stevieweek

[stevieweek]

public broadcast morticia, platinum record gomez

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson wc: 3.9k | T | @stevieweek day 3: horror/princess; transfem!stevie; post-canon; getting back together AO3

Stevie shuts the prop book in her lap slowly, allowing the scene to transition out of the story animation and back to real life. For the seconds it is in frame, the red cloth-bound cover of the prop stands out in stark contrast against the gold and black of her skirt. The camera pans slowly back up to her face.

“That would be scary, wouldn’t it?” she asks her future viewing audience. “To wake up one morning and not recognize who you are.”

Wings beat, and a grey tentacle wraps around her shoulder. Robin clicks and coos, moving the demobat puppet in time with the noises. She's probably asking a real question, but Sevie hasn’t picked up much of the language she’s invented for her puppet.

It’s all scripted anyway.

“I agree, Demi. Not having an adult to go to makes it scarier. But wasn’t it brave to keep going even though he was scared?”

Robin chirps and squeaks again. Flapping the puppet’s wings with the special pull cord, she maneuvers the bat around the stage to make it look like Demi is flying.

“Of course, Demi, I’ll always be someone safe for you to go to. I love you.”

Her eyes sting as she says it. God, she cries so much more easily these days. Fucking hormones.

The puppet shivers and shakes in a full-bodied chirp. I love you too.

A howl sounds from just outside the room. Signaling the end of this segment and the start of the next one. 

“Dart must hear someone at the door! Let’s see who’s come to visit.”

The pace is her favorite part of the show. Slow, easy. All done as much as possible in one smooth take. Stevie pushes herself up from the dark-patterned wingback chair, smoothing down her skirt, she walks from one room of the set to the other. The camera trails her, giving Robin a chance to move throughout the specially designed paths that keep her out of frame while she’s holding the Demi puppet.

Unlike Demi, Dart doesn’t that closely resemble his namesake. That was for the feds more than the children. Demi had some aesthetic changes to make her look more friendly, rounded body and visible eyes. Dart was changed fundamentally. Instead of the puckered fleshy face, Stevie can run a hand through sparse fur between two pointed ears. The animatronics Dustin helped their puppet master build let them move, giving the whole face more subtle movement than the other puppet is capable of. Good for the larger, German Shepherd-sized build. Even if the focus of the camera is usually on the face, the top jaw dog, wire-haired and angular, and beneath its pink nose, a split bottom jaw that opens in two wide, distinct joints. More cute than dangerous when a long forked tongue lolls out from it.

As Stevie’s thick rubber heels thunk against the floor of the set, Dart’s pit bull stump tail wags in its excitement at her approach. Back from college, Dustin is operating it today. He maneuvers the body so it faces her now that she’s come to get the door. The charmingly dumb look on its face gets her every time — a grin she has to school back to a more appropriately sized smirk. 

From off stage, someone cues Dart’s reminding bark.

“Has our guest arrived, Dart?”

Dart can nod when Dustin operates it. Always more sure than the rest of them about the intelligence that lurked beneath those demo creatures. Still, someone once again makes the appropriate answering cue.

Robin is standing outside the set, positioning Demi in a window. She chirps and flaps, Stevie’s cue to begin introducing who is behind the door.

“Today’s scary job will have us confronting our glossophobia, that’s our fear of public performance. If your palms get sweaty when you answer a question at school or you think about throwing up when you have a piano recital, we picked this job to give you a special scare.”

Never a theater kid, Robin teases her at how quickly she’s picked this up. Her cues, like this one to open the door, are always hit. She knows exactly what her face is doing, the way her dark lips hint at a smile, and the way the dark of her makeup makes something dangerous and anticipatory flash in her eyes. She’s yet to have a guest not spook just a little when the door swings open. The danger that she used to be humming under her skin was obvious to them when the sound and light cues hit, making the stage flash and sound with lightning and thunder.

It’s one of the joys of the job.

The outside of the “house” is dark, a dual-purpose choice to hide the sound lot that pairs with how nice it looks in post to have the first glimpse of their guest be in that horror movie strobe.

“Welcome home,” she says as always to the blackness outside her door. Thunder booms first, then lightning streaks, and she’s looking at someone who shouldn’t be here. “Eddie Munson, front man of the band Corroded Coffin.”

She steps numbly out of the way, letting Eddie through her door. 

Six years.

Dart rubs its head against her skirt, a move that would be accompanied by a whimper if it were able to make its own sound effects. As it is, she takes the comfort she can get from Dustin. Robin makes a trill; she's not a good enough actor to disguise the nerves in it.

It’s too much to deal with, so as with all things, she decides it’s better not to. There’s a procedure here, a routine. Stevie turns on her heel and starts walking to the set they’re supposed to be on. Eddie can fall into step behind her or, hell, maybe she’ll get lucky and he’ll run away. He’s always been good at that.

Stalking is what she’s doing; it might be what Eddie did too, to find his way over here. Hers means she’s moving too fast through the set for the pace they’re setting, the emotions she’s feeling moving her body like a rocket through the familiar frame of her pretend house. Eddie’s means he’s ruined her fragile peace.

It’s a real multifaceted word. Maybe they should use it for a show. Maybe they could get a zookeeper to bring a big cat on, too.

Eddie finds the guest’s seat at the table, sitting down across from her at the kitchen island, ruining the slight lift of her mood at the plans for a new episode with his continued presence.

He’s already got his hands in the spread on the table. Fingers smudged with the dyed red frosting, pinching a brownie carved into a coffin shape. It looks garish in the bright light of this set. The kitchen, the only set she refused to bow to the other aesthetics of the house. It unnerves instead in its rich, pastel, Stepford glory. Eddie looks just as out of place here -- even with the spiderweb detailing on the cabinets -- as he did in her kitchen in Hawkins.

“Good evening, Eddie,” she says what she’s supposed to say.

His mouth is full, his answer muffled in rich chocolate she baked herself before shooting.

“Why don’t you tell us about your band? I’m a big fan of your guitarist, Jeff Best.”

Jeff, the person who was supposed to be on the sound stage when she opened the door. The band member she had approved of, after being told by producers how enthusiastically the band had been supporting the show. How they wanted on, desperately.

She asks, “What’s the scariest part of your job?”

And asks, “Isn’t it frightening performing in front of thousands and thousands of people?”

And asks, “Are you ever afraid the stage will collapse?”

And asks, “Pyrotechnics are fires and fireworks that can be done inside, but aren’t you worried that something might go wrong?”

This segment has always been less of an interview and more of an exploration of worst-case scenarios. The things that frighten, the accidents that end up on the news, but rarely ever happen. A way to show the kids who tune in that the world can be scary, but it’s usually not. That fear of the coulds shouldn’t be the thing that keeps them from trying.

But she flings these worst cases at Eddie like knives, like saying they might manifest into coming true.

But each interview always ends the same way.

“What’s the scariest thing you’ve ever overcome?”

Eddie spins a chocolate eyeball around on the white china plate. It blurs with the movement until it’s just a white sphere moving around and around the border of fine, red blood splatter. Is he trying to figure out how to skirt his NDA? Is he inventing some stage diving accident or bar fight? Some story that will make him sound like the worldly rockstar the world knows him as?

Sure, he’s softened his aesthetic for this appearance. The only leather is his jacket. His wide-legged black pants, with the red and black brocade vest, straddle the line between professional and showman.

But he’s still Eddie, dungeon master drama queen to the last.

“The scariest thing I’ve ever done?” he repeats. Incorrectly to that point, done implies it’s scary because of his fuck up, overcome implies it’s the world. They’d workshopped the wording of that final question for days before her first interview.

Eddie continues, because if there’s one thing he’s going to do it’s continue whether she wants it or not. “The scariest thing I’ve ever done is go attempt to make amends with someone that I hurt very badly and hope that she’s good enough to forgive me.”

She’s supposed to ask a follow-up here, but she really doesn’t want to.

“Some of those were in the present tense, Mr. Munson.” She’s borrowing words from Robin now, stealing them from somewhere in her soulmate's brain because all Stevie knows is a blank rage that she hopes isn’t in her eyes.

That’s bad television.

“You’re right. The going has happened, the attempt is ongoing, and the fear is in both.”

A clock’s chime fills the room. Loud, sourceless, she’s taken to thinking of it like a school bell, and that’s better than remembering a grandfather clock and Max’s broken legs. Eddie flinches back, not that big a fan of the show apparently. Midnight ends every episode.

“Time sure flies, doesn’t it, Eddie?” A thump comes from behind them, a spot on the third wall out of the sight of the framing of their primary camera. Robin in position for her favorite job.

Stevie gives her her cue, “Gordon?” Robin, on her mark and her applebox, brings down the thick, fleshy, grey hand with the too-long fingers and the blackened nails onto Eddie’s shoulder. It’s weighted at the front, dislodges Eddie from his seat, and jostles him backward. “Introduce Eddie to the others? I know he’s just dying to stay for a while.”

Hand in place on Eddie’s shoulder, all Robin has to do is pull and he’s stumbling off stage like he’s on a vaudeville hook.

She blinks slowly, wills her blood pressure down. Her heart has been thumping in her ears since she laid eyes on Eddie, and even now that he’s technically off camera, she still can’t let go of her rage.

But there’s a show to finish, and she’s going to do her job. She can ignore Eddie’s big, brown eyes that somehow manage to haunt her even in the dark beyond the camera. She can turn down the camera, face it head-on.

She can. She does. “And don't forget: you're smarter than you think, braver than you feel, and you always have a friend right here. Until next time.”

She’s moving even before she can hear the director call, “Cut.”

“Whose fucking idea was this?”

“Not me,” Robin answers, gleeful at Stevie’s rage. She’s got Eddie still pinned in place with her long arm.

“Listen, Stevie, baby.”

“Nope,” Robin says, popping that P and giving Eddie a shake.

Not that anyone but Stevie would have heard that over the way she yells, “You don’t get to call me that.”

“Eddie, dude, not that it’s not good to see you, but I talked to Jeff,” Dustin comes out from the set with his hands already raised.

“And I saw that, Henderson, but don't fret, I wasn't offended. I figured you wouldn't mind if I remedied the situation myself.”

“Never let it be said you've ever learned a single lesson the easy way, Munson,” Robin says.

“Yes, and I'll be glad to catch up with you about that, Buckley. And with you, Henderson. But right now, I would love a moment with the talent. Stevie?”

It's on her tongue to say no again. To send him packing, the quest failed. Let him turn it into some ballad of spurned love and wretched harpies; she doesn't care.

But she doesn’t. She doesn’t. She says, “Five minutes.” And stalks off toward her dressing room.

He doesn't jingle anymore. That strikes her somewhere in the chest. The sound of his trailing behind her, the same melody as hers, told in a round: thick rubber heels on a concrete floor.

She sits down at her vanity and starts stripping off the thick paint of her on-camera makeup. As she slathers on cold cream, she can see Eddie find a seat on the coffee table. It throws her back to that last summer together, getting caught in her mother’s bathroom by a boy she liked in ways she didn’t know how to say yet.

The more things change.

“Listen, Stevie.” It’s funny how she can still tell when he’s started a sentence, not knowing how he plans to end it.

“You came all this way and you didn’t think about how you wanted to actually apologize? Did you get so lost in the drama of crashing my set that you didn’t think of what would happen when it was over?” She keeps her eyes on him in the mirror as she says it, moving through her routine like usual. With each condemnation, she takes her hand towel and wipes a little bit more of Stevie, Princess of the Dark, away until she’s bare-faced, annoyed, and just Stevie Henderson again.

“No,” he lies. “I mean, maybe. Look, Steph, for what it’s worth.”

She grabs her normal makeup, the lightweight stuff that doesn’t have to look good to the limited eye of the camera or sell a character that she’s only sometimes.

“It’s not worth a lot, Eddie. Let me try to save you some time. We finally gave in and gave the band the time of day, you leapt in ass first without a plan, because I’m Princess of the Dark, Princess Stevie, Lady Stevie of the Night, whatever the fucking branding has decided this week so I’ve got the image now. I’m not some baby freak borrowing wardrobe pieces from her socialite mom and her dyke best friend, I’m the right kind of metal that perpetual bachelor, frontman Eddie Munson can be seen with now. Does that about cover it?”

“No, no, Stevie, I swear.”

She can’t even slam down what’s in her hands. The stupid spongy applicator from her eyeshadow would get lost, and if she breaks another one of the eyeshadow colors, she’ll lose her mind. Setting it down gently does nothing to temper the absolute, white out emotion she’s feeling.

“You swear? You swear. The way you swore nothing would change. The way you swore you’d leave on tour and come back with nothing but stories and homesickness. That was the tour that you called me from Wichita to tell me you weren’t coming home, and you didn’t think it would work out if we tried to stay together. In case you forgot.”

“It’s not-”

“This was after you told me you didn’t want me to come when I offered. That it would be stupid of me to leave my -- easily abandoned -- job at the record store. But why would you want the idiot you’re about to leave playing merch girl as you wandered through the Midwest.”

“Are you finished?”

She’s got brown eyeshadow on one eye, her cheeks are pinked, and it’s not from blush. She’s pretty far from done. “That foot-in-mouth condition ended up being terminal, I guess.”

“Stevie.”

She can’t storm out if her eyes aren’t done. A half-done face is one thing, but it’s at least got to be even.

“Stevie, you’re getting mentioned in the same sentences as Elvira, R.L. Stine. You’re Sesame Street if the face was the Count and not Elmo. That’s you, that’s all you. It’s something you created from the ground up with nothing but your charm and vision, and yeah, stunning good looks and a little bit of black mailing the United States government.

“If you had come with us back then, you know what you’d be? My muse, sure. You’d be the merch girl that people whisper about, and wonder how many of the band members she’s sleeping with to get to play groupie. They’d find out things about you, and if you were lucky, they’d just make your life miserable.”

She can’t believe this. “Are you really trying to pull some ‘I left you to keep you safe,’ that is the biggest crock of shit I’ve ever heard in my life.”

Her face is done, she could leave. She’s given him more than the five minutes she promised. 

But then Eddie’s standing. No, he’s collapsing, off the table to her feet. Hands clutched in her skirt, looking up at her from the floor. “You’re right, it wasn’t about you. It was about me being the same coward I‘ve always been. You know what I’m most afraid of, Steph? That one day you would wake up in our rank ass tour bus and you would resent me for trapping you and all of your potential.”

The vanity counter bites into the meat of her hands. “It took you six years to come here and say that.” 

“Yeah, yeah, it did. And it was too long and it wasn't long enough. I would wait forever, Steph. It’s about who you are, not what you’ve become.”

“You’re contradicting yourself, Teddy.” He’s trapped her here, kneeling on her skirt the way he is. “Either you left so I could fill my full potential, which is pretty fucking bold to assume that everyone had that itch to leave Hawkins the way you did and that I wouldn’t have been just fine waiting tables or rewinding video tapes for the rest of my life. But it’s that or you love me no matter what, and it wouldn’t matter if I hung up the witch's broom.”

She’s feeling generous, and she likes how big and wide his cow eyes get when he’s desperate. It reminds her of different times. Eddie’s hand pulls hers off the vanity, and she lets him keep it. Let him pull it close to his chest. He’s probably imagining he’s some knight pledging some oath, and fuck even imaginging what he’s thinking endears her just a little bit more to him.

Letting him in was always going to be a mistake.

She’s never held a grudge as well as Robin.

“There isn’t anything you could do that would make me want you less.”

Still, in the last six years, she’s learned that even though she loves too hard and too long, sometimes it’s more important that she protect her heart. Like her head, it can’t take too many more beatings.

“You want a burger. You want a new record. You want a quick fuck with someone who knows what they’re doing. Wants are quick and fleeting, and sometimes they aren’t even that good. I can’t be a want, Eddie.”

He clutches her hand tighter. He drops his hold on her skirt so his other hand can grab her at the elbow instead. “Stevie, I need you. And if you send me packing, I’m still gonna need you. You’re it. You’re just- you’re it.”

“And if I didn’t follow you on tour, like some love-sick groupie? If I stayed here with the show, you couldn’t see me for weeks and months. You’d still need me?”

“Like air. I’ll call, I’ll write, I’ll come in and compose. I can be your first recurring guest or handle a puppet. Anything at your order.”

She can feel herself caving. Like a sink hole in her chest, the ground giving way to nothing but a yawning starvation. It’s been years, and she’s sunk all of her love and her care and the desperate need she has always had to be seen into this show. It was good, but there has always been so much of her to give.

So she spits back the worst thing he ever said to her.

“And I’m not just some stand-in for Chrissy Cunningham.”

She expects him to drop her arm. To scurry away like some frightened mouse now that the claws of the cat have dropped in front of it. To remember that before the tits and the smirky face she patterned off of Elvira, she was still always a mean girl.

The quiet collapse of Eddie’s face is less satisfying than the rage, the sadness in his eyes more like a kicked dog than an international rockstar.

“I shouldn’t have said that.” He says.

She could echo it, but hers needed to be said.

“If I thought you hated me, it was easier to leave. I could make you just one more thing I fucked up. I don’t see her when I look at you.”

She scoffs, and he pulls her closer.

“I don’t, Steph, I don’t. You’re not some damsel I couldn’t save. You’re the knight who rescued me. Let me make my oath, let me prove myself.”

“I want a new theme song. Something catchy, not metal. And you’re going to come on and do a special segment on the show about dealing with scary things, in terrible corpse makeup. Stop smiling, it’s not going to be fun.”

“I’m sure you’ll make it wretched.”

“I’m going to make you confront all the stupid shit you’re scared of and if you don’t act scared enough I’m going to bring in the rest of the band and tell them you’re the reason this is happening to them.”

“Gareth hates spiders, and Freak is scared of clowns.”

“And I want Jeff on the show. I had to cut out half of our interview questions about the things he’s had to face being black in the scene because you think you’re charming.”

He has the nerve to stand up, stepping on her skirt before he’s shoving his way into her space on the bench seat of her vanity. His hands are warm, fingers long and familiar as they curl around the curves she’s developed since they last saw each other.

“Whatever you want forever, Steph.” He whispers it into the side of her neck like he thinks he’s Gomez Addams, and she’s too weak to not be delighted.

“In that case, you can also explain all of this to Robin.”

“And when she kills me for wronging you?”

She grabs his chin between her fingers, lets her coffin-shaped nails dig into the stubbly skin until she can see the bite of pink crescent moons. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring you back. Everyone knows Miss Stevie is a witch.”

[stevieweek]

"Oh, officer, I think my husband is dead!"

@genderthings bingo prompt: dress | @stevieweek day 3 prompt: horror | background from Ibis Paint tho i made it pinkier and added the curtains. might come back to this but let's consider it finished for the sake of being on time

The Addams Family inspired horror comedy where scam artists Stephanie Harrington-Munson and her undead husband Eddie collect insurance one state at a time. (Sometimes they swap roles, and sometimes they even go as lesbians.)

[stevieweek]

Rating: Explicit Category: F/M Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Chrissy Cunningham, The Party (Stranger Things) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Trans Steve Harrington, MtF Steve Harrington, Gender Identity, Eddie Munson Lives, Light Dom/sub, Dom Eddie Munson, Sub Steve Harrington Summary: For @stevieweek, witness Stevie’s journey to who she really is and finding love with one Eddie Munson

Chapter 2 is Hospital :)

[stevieweek]

something green

inspired by @stevieweek day 2 prompt: cryptid | hospital, but this might not be enough stevie to qualify wc: 1.4k | T | cw: minor character death | tags: stobin hivemind

Their Robin part answers the phone when it rings.

They’re home, have been all week scouring the classifieds for a job that they think won’t be completely miserable. It’s been boring, but boring is a lot better than monsters and as the late-July humidity persists outside it’s at least a little bit better than anything else too.

“This is a call for Steve Harrington.”

They’ve not been that for a while.

“Speaking,” their Robin answers.

The voice on the other end of the line pauses, like it’s not sure it believes their Robin, but continues, “Your mother has asked we inform you that she’s currently receiving care at St. Vincent’s Hospital in Indianapolis. She’s been in an accident, I’m sorry to say I’m not sure how much time she has left.”

“Is my father there?”

“He has been informed.”

“But he wasn’t with my mother,” their Robin finishes.

“I have a note that says he told the staff member who called, ‘he would be down from Chicago when he was finished with work.’”

“Thank you,” they say, and their Stevie means it. “We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

If the employee on the phone finds that strange they don’t have time to say it. Their Robin hangs up the phone with a finality that smacks of disagreement.

“Do we really need to go up to see Mother? Mom is making lasagna tonight and she never got drunk and told us that she thought about going to a special doctor when she learned she was pregnant with Richard’s baby.”

Mom’s lasagna is their favorite, but they’re more prone to regret now. “Call her and tell her we’ll be late. I’m sure she’ll save it for us.”

Mom always said that special occasions meant a dress, father said you don’t go to a business deal unless you’ve shined your shoes.

A hospital visit to see their dying mother, it’s hard to decide if any of those rules apply. But both parts of them are still in the boxers and the white undershirts they’d gone to bed in, so they make due with what they know and the pieces they’ve scrounged from the thrift store since the government check cleared.

They’re used to getting dirty looks when they go places. The perk of their Stevie part still looking beaten half-to-death is most people don’t bother with trying to finish the job. Their Robin finds a nurse who points to the private room Mother is being kept in.

It would be funny that even when she’s dying, Mother still demanded luxury, but then they’d have to admit their sense of humor has gotten a little fucked.

Their Stevie enters the room first, goes to the bed while their Robin stays closer to the door. They don’t need privacy from each other, but they know to others they’re something strange and off putting.

The hospital is one of the worst places they can imagine spending their final moments. The smell of antiseptic and bleach unable to bury the scent of death and bile, even in this room that only privilege can buy. Mother looks smaller than they can ever remember seeing her. Her face and chest a mottle of bruising, a strip of her blonde hair shaved away to make way for a wound the doctors have bandaged. Blood and something tinged yellow are already seeping through it. The machine beside her bed beeps, each one weaker than the last like even it is giving up.

One of their Steve hands brushes hers, gentle. Mindful of the IV going into the back of it. One of her french tips is missing, another broken in a jagged line. The hand reaching for hers is missing a nail too. She’d hate that.

“Mother,” they start. Her eyes are shut, not swollen shut like one of theirs, just closed. The spiderweb of veins is visible through the thin skin, and that’s worse. “Mother, I-”

Mother not Mom or Ma or Momma or Mommy.

It’s always been Mother for as long as they can remember. Mother and Father. It’s hard for them to wrap their mouth around now that they’ve got Mom at home with her lasagna. They’re crying, just a little. The salty sting of tears prick at their Robin eyes.

She’s not going to get better and she’s always going to be Mother. She won’t get to become something different to them, like them.

“Mother,” they try again. Maybe this time the right words will come out. In English or one of the others.

Her spiderweb eyes flutter. They open just a crack. Bloodshot and hazy. “Is that my baby?” Her words are slowed, slurred together.

“Mo-”

Even open all the way her eyes are glassy and unfocused. Her hand tilts up to catch theirs. “My baby.” 

“Morphine,” they remind themself from the other side of the room.

Mother’s eyes track to where the sound came from, and back to the part of them that’s holding her hand. “I always thought there would be two of you,” she says. “The way you’d kick.”

The machine beeps tick higher. Intracranial bleeding, traumatic internal injuries, thrown from the car, intoxicated. Those were the things the nurse had told one half while the other was headed into the room.

She probably isn’t even lucid.

“When they said it was just one, I was sure you’d be a girl.”

“I’m sorry,” they say. They look over at their other half, not for answers but for the comforting reminder that they’re there.

Mother’s hand shakes as she lifts it off the bed, even with theirs beneath it, supporting the weight. The beeps get faster, louder, crying at the effort she’s putting forward. Her fingers are even colder than normal as they brush their face.

“Don’t be sorry, both of you, just as beautiful as I knew you’d be. My twins, my babies.” Her breathing is too fast, too shallow, too much of everything.

But the smile on her face is peaceful.

“I wish I’d been more for you,” she says.

“No,” they choke out from beside the door, tears running faster.

“I couldn’t see it at first, you looked so much like your father; and I missed it. I missed it.” Each word sounds more like an exhale. Each one is harder to hear.

They surround her now, a half on either side of the bed. Their mother is dying.

“Green was always my favorite, you look so nice in it.” Green dress, green button down, emerald and forest.

“I love you.” They manage to say it, gasp it out through the hurt lodged in their throat. She needs to hear it.

The beeps are fast, then slow, she says. “Love you two.”

The beeps stop, the machine whines. A long, loud sound that demands all of the attention in the room. The commotion starts, nurses and doctors flooding in.

But they know death by this point. They slip from the room, walking until there’s a seating area just to the side of a desk of busy nurses. They sit side by side, trying to find the state of whole they only ever feel when sleeping. Thigh to thigh, hand in hand, it’s close enough.

Their mother is dead.

They sit. Mom is at home, lasagna in the warmer; but Mother is cooling on a bed down the hall.

An elevator chimes, a clipped conversation at the nurses stand too quiet to hear, then. “Steven, what in god’s name are you wearing?”

Their shoes are shined, they twitch left and then right on their Robin feet. The white Chuck Taylors had looked better with the dress, they had decided while getting ready.

“What are you hoping to accomplish,” Father continues, his question after all had never really been a question. Much like this one.

“You were too late, I’m sorry,” they say, hoping they manage to sound consoling.

“The only thing to be sorry about is that whoever hit you didn’t do as well as the fucking car did. Christ, I just hope no one important has seen you looking like this.”

Dad said their attempts at makeup were avant garde.

Two separate instincts war within them. The one that’s snarky and snappish and fights demodogs and soldiers versus the one that knows the danger of the wrong idea being shared by the wrong person.

Love you two. Her last words.

They stand, hand in hand, united physically as they are in every other way. They walk past him, sputtering and spitting with a rage no father should have for their child. It will take all four of their hands but they can move their things out of their room to the other in the house where Mom and Dad love everything they have become.

And they’ll grab something green from Mother.

[stevieweek]

Lady in Black

🖤Rating: M 🖤 Words: 1,700 🖤 Tags: Genderqueer Steve, Modern AU, Pining Steve, Eddie loves Steve, Bratty Steve 🖤 For @genderthings Pride Things Bingo Prompt: Dress 🖤 For @stevieweek 🖤 Ao3

Steve parked his car in the round driveway, taking a fortifying breath before sliding out. He handed his keys off to one of the valets and stepped toward the large double doors. He paused, taking one last deep breath, brushed his hands down the soft black fabric wrapped around him, nodded to himself, and walked through the doors. He handed off his invitation to a man dressed like a butler from a Jane Austin movie.

The natural flow of the crowd led him into a huge ballroom. It was probably normally set up for work events and banquets, but for the night it’d been so amazingly transformed that Steve wondered if he’d stepped backwards in time when he walked through the doors.

Steve craned his head around, taking in all the gold accents and overflowing flowers. Huge chandeliers glittered above, shining warm light down upon the party goers, pairing perfectly with all the shiny dresses and smooth tuxes.

He wondered how he was supposed to find anyone, let alone a single person in the crowd. Steve had texted Eddie when it was taking longer than planned to get ready that he’d just meet up with him when he arrived.

It’s just...he just really wanted to look perfect. He’d taken a curling wand to his hair, there were gems eyelash glued to his face, and he’d wrapped his arms and shoulders in swirling gold paint. Robin had finally pushed him out the door when his last touches were messing up his make up.

He knew Eddie had been pretty surprised when Steve easily agreed to be his...platonic...date when he’d bought two tickets for a full on regency ball with no date lined up, but Steve hoped to use the evening to finally get Eddie to see him in a different light. Years earlier, Steve had thought they were heading towards being something, but then they fell into being just friends, bros, and Steve just wanted to...check. See if they could finally be more.

His phone vibrated in his pocket with an incoming text.

[text] Eddie: You close?

Steve aimed his phone up at the chandeliers, snapping a photo.

[text] Steve: *photo of two huge, gold chandeliers*

[text] Eddie: *photo of a mirrored wall of liquor*

Steve stood on tiptoe, looking over the sea of high hair, feathers, and towering hats to locate the bar. He spotted it in the far back corner of the room and started picking his way around all the wide, elegant ballgowns, making sure not to step on any trains or ribbons.

He almost felt under-dressed by comparison; some of the outfits were just so detailed and extravagant, layered with so many different fabrics and patterns and floofs and ruffles! He walked past someone with a giant white wig with an actual, fake bird in it, while Steve had just curled his normal coif and pinned it up around a fake gold tiara.

He was so nervous to show Eddie his look, he’d imagined so many different reactions, some hot and steamy, some sweet and loving, but the closer he got, the more nauseous he felt. The bar came into view and he tipped his chin up, pushed back his shoulders, and swished around one particularly wide skirt.

[text] Steve: *photo of Eddie’s back. His tamed curls tied back at his neck by a ribbon.*

Steve watched Eddie pull out his phone and check his text. His head popped up and he spun around. The bright smile on his face slid off, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Steve brushed his hand down the black velvet bodice as a crimson flush crept up Eddie’s neck and cheeks.

Steve was frozen, waiting for Eddie to say something, anything. Eddie’s eyes were flitting over him, taking in the image he made.

Instead of lacy flounces and layers of brocade, Steve had found a simple black ballgown, the sleeveless bodice was velvet and looked kind of like a corset, the full skirt was a shiny black material with a black velvet flower design that he loved to just pet.

Robin had helped him with the delicately thin gold lines swirling around his arms and shoulders. And at the last second, she’d added a long gold chain necklace with a gold locket that hung just below his chest, giving him the illusion of cleavage.

He’d forgone finding a mask that wouldn’t mess up his hair and asked Robin’s artist girlfriend to glue gold body glitter and gems around his eyes. She’d gone above and beyond anything Steve could’ve imagined, creating an intricate design of interlocking swirls and flourishes. It almost made Steve want to cry when he thought about how he’d have to destroy it once the evening was over.

Robin’s girlfriend had waved a hand and said it was all about the femoral nature of art? Steve didn’t think she meant it in a blood, sweat, and tears kind of way, but didn’t ask for clarification.

Eddie still hadn’t said anything, but his hand kept raising up as if he wanted to touch. Steve wanted him to touch, but then the hand would just drop away.

Steve glanced down, gripping a handful of skirt, and looked back up at Eddie through his thickly mascara-ed eyelashes. “Well? How do I look?”

Eddie physically shook himself out, taking a stumbling step toward Steve. Eddie’s hand came up again, as if to touch Steve’s shoulder, his neck, his cheek, before he tucked his hand behind his back.

Steve’s knees trembled slightly, his heel tipped to the side. Eddie was so close and yet so far. Steve just wanted-

Eddie’s eyes darkened, dipping down Steve’s body, his hands ghosted up Steve’s arms, settling to not quite cup his waist.

Eddie swallowed hard as his eyes met Steve’s, boring into his soul. “Did you come here to tempt me? Like a beautiful and seductive sorceress, you show me my true heart’s desire, yet you cover yourself in a golden spell so I can’t touch you without marring you, without destroying you. Is this a trap, Stevie?”

Steve’s eyes widened, oh, he really liked that. He realized he wanted to be Eddie’s Stevie, beautiful, dark, and mysterious, at least for the night. He licked his lips, he didn’t know how to play along.

“I just- I wanted you to see me. Do you...think you could-” He didn’t know how to say what he wanted without laying his heart bare, without allowing Eddie the chance to stomp his heart into a thousand pieces. He blinked wide eyes at Eddie, hoping he knew what he meant.

Eddie’s hands finally touched him, holding his waist firmly in his big hands. He stepped in closer, his boots inching under the edge of the skirt. Steve’s hands gripped his skirt, not knowing if he was allowed to touch.

Eddie’s eyes dipped, looking at his pink painted lips, before taking in the curls around the tiara and landing back on his eyes. “Stevie- Steve, I-”

“No.” Steve interrupted, “Stevie. Please, Eddie, I want,” - he shook his head, eyes lowering - “I don’t know what, but I like when you call me Stevie.”

Eddie’s hands brushed up and down his velvety sides and back. He suddenly pulled Stevie in close. Stevie gasped, wide eyes meeting Eddie’s, his hands clutched at Eddie’s arms. Eddie’s nose brushed Stevie’s. His lips ghosted close, not quite touching, not giving Stevie what he so desperately wanted. Stevie’s eyes closed, waiting. Eddie wet his lips, tongue licking across Stevie’s for a mere breath of a moment, before moving back.

Stevie’s eyes fluttered open, tears pricking at the corners. Eddie was still holding him close, one hand pressed hard against his back, one much lower. He just wasn’t almost-kissing him anymore. He was looking at him.

“Eddie?” he said, voice tinged with a sad whine.

“Stevie,” Eddie said, his voice different. It was no longer theatrically deepened, but sounded like they were hanging out at home on the couch and he had a question about the show they were watching, “did you come here to seduce me? Because, if you did, you didn’t have to. I was already yours, honey.”

Oh, Steve blinked at him. All that time thinking Eddie didn’t see him, didn’t want him like he wanted Eddie...and yet. Well, the evening just got a little lighter, Stevie smiled, his shoulders loosening.

He slid his hands up Eddie’s shoulders, clasping his hands behind his neck and looked at him through his lashes, pouting out his bottom lip. “So. How do I look? You like it? Because it was all for you.”

Eddie smirked, humming a low growl, and pulled him flush against his body by the low hand on his ass. “Yeah? You got yourself dressed up all pretty and painted just for me?”

Stevie nodded, smiling sweetly.

“Baby,” Eddie breathed out, “you gonna let me ruin you tonight, Stevie? Smudge all this pretty gold all over your body? Splay your pretty curls across my pillow?”

Steve shuddered, eyes drooping heavy. “Please.”

“Fuck. Let’s get out of here.” Eddie stepped back, sliding his hands along the velvet, griped Stevie’s hand and started walking away. Stevie planted his heels and tugged Eddie’s hand so he had to twirl back around to him. Eddie stepped back in. “Baby, what’s up?”

Steve stepped back, planting his hands on his hips, pouting a frown at Eddie. “Eddie, I drove all the way here for your nerdy, olden time fancy ball. I bought this dress, it took two other people to get me all made up, I have eyelash glue on my face. So, we’re staying and doing all the weird ball stuff. The dancing. The people watching. The five course meal. And then you can take me home and ravish me.”

Eddie blinked at him a few times, glanced around the enormous, crowded ballroom, and nodded. “Yes, to the dancing and people watching, but we’re leaving before the meal. We’ll swing through somewhere for drive through. But then I’m ravishing you for the whole weekend. Deal?”

Stevie grinned at him. “Deal.”

Eddie tucked one hand behind his back and held his other out for Steve to take. Stevie smiled at him, sliding his hand into the crook of his elbow. They turned to walk out to the dance floor, the crowd parting before them.

[stevieweek]

Summerween in Hawkins

💚Rating: M💚 Words: 4.6k 💚 Tags: TransFem!Steve, Trickster!Eddie, Buffy Halloween Episode Vibes, Everyone's turned into their costume, Stevie's pretty happy about it, coming out to the party 💚For @steddie-spooktober Summerween: Trickster 💚For @genderthings Pride Things Bingo: Make up 💚For @stevieweek Day 2: Cryptid 💚Ao3

Eddie loved Summerween. It was the one time of the year when he could truly let himself be free in public. He could finally release his tightly held glamour, dropping his human boy form, and take on his true visage.

The damp heat of late June in Indiana didn’t touch his skin. He walked unseen, unnoticed through the trees surrounding the Summerween Craft Fair and Festival. The whole town was out, everyone in costume, playing fair games, buying homemade art, eating candy, and carving watermelons. It was all so fun and silly and innocent. Eddie grinned, he was about to shake that up.

Someone needed to remind them that Summerween was not just any other summer holiday, it wasn’t 4th of July with dress up. Summerween was about celebrating the dark and spooky elements of summer; it was that feeling of standing at the edge of the deep, dark woods and knowing something older than the woods, something bigger, more powerful, more dangerous than you watched back and with one step into the cool shade, it’d snatch you right up. Summerween wasn’t about candy and silliness. It was about him.

Power flowed along his body, snapping outwards, tasting each and every person’s energy. So much joy and excitement, no one was spooked or uneasy. Well then, wouldn’t this be more fun for him. He closed his eyes, still seeing the crowds of happy families wandering around. With little effort, he pushed his power outwards, it flowed quick and easy, happy to finally be released, covering the entire festival. He leaned against a large, old tree and waited for the screams.

-

Stevie loved Summerween. It was one of two times a year when she could truly let herself be free in public. She could pull out the dresses hidden in the back of her closet, the make-up tucked below a floorboard, and walk out amongst the crowds of her town with a Hello My Name is STEVIE sticker stuck to her handbag. She finally got to relax and be happy for a whole entire day.

For the town’s festival, Robin dressed in Stevie’s normal jeans and polo shirt, her hair pinned close to her head, and a sticker telling people to call her ROB. They’d gotten dressed at Stevie’s house, giggling away in her room as Stevie showed Robin some of her subtler makeup tricks. However, just for the day, just for Summerween, Robin had convinced her to go a little more dramatic; darker lashes, a red lipstick she normally kept just for herself when her parents were out of town, hair curled down around her face. She caught herself looking in every reflection of the surrounding crafts, she looked so beautiful and happy.

They wandered around the open field of booths, only slightly sweating and fanning themselves, as the tall trees surrounding the area insulated them from the heatwave that had enveloped the town in the last week. A craft booth caught Robin’s eye and she pulled Stevie over to check out a table of small clay dragons.

Stevie thought they were cute, not something she’d normally be interested in, but maybe she’d grab one for Dustin. He and the other kids were probably over at the games, playing for candy and bragging rights, but she hadn’t run into them yet.

She kind of wanted to see their reaction to her “costume”. She knew it wouldn’t be the same as when she’d actually eventually tell them, one day in the far future, but it’d be good to at least see where they’re starting from.

She picked out a couple of the cooler looking dragons while Robin waffled between two. The vendor had just handed her a bag with her dragons and her change when she heard a distant scream.

Years of dealing with monsters, human and supernatural alike, had left her a tad jumpy, but when Robin didn’t seem to notice she let it go. Most likely kids just having fun. Annoyingly, it was often difficult to tell excited kid screams from scared kid screams.

Robin handed one of the clay dragons to the vendor and Stevie wandered out of the booth. She could see all the way down the line of booths to the fair end of the field.

A pack of blue smurf looking kids ran up the aisle screeching. Her belly clenched. A woman cried out, a man in a hockey mask ran between the booths with a huge knife, and someone started belting out Like a Virgin in a very convincing Madonna impression.

A cold breeze flowed around her, making shivers dance along her skin and twisting her hair around her face. She shoved her hair back out of her face, yanking her fingers out of the knotted strands, and pulling them out of her scalp with a sharp flash of pain.

“Ow,” she scritched her fingers against her scalp, relieving the shock of pain. She paused. “Wait, ow? Wait, is that my voice? Is that my voice? Robin! Come here!”

Robin, finally finished paying, joined her out front.

“Robin, do I sound different to you?” she turned to Robin and stepped back startled. “Uh, I think something’s going on. You look- Well, you look like if you had a brother and then turned into him.”

Robin stared at Stevie, blinking. “Yeah well, you look like a- well, I mean, you look like you. Like, you still look like you, but also girly? Okay, that sounded wrong. What I mean is, you look like the you that you want to be- Ugh, sorry, I don’t know how to- A mirror! We need a mirror. Come on. And wow, my voice sounds so deep in my head. Does it sound that deep to you? So so weird.”

Robin grabbed Stevie’s wrist, pulling her toward the booth with mirrors and crystals. Stevie looked down at where Robin held her, amazed. Her wrist was still strong looking, but also tapered where Robin’s thicker fingers wrapped around. Her belly felt wobbly and tears clogged her throat.

Stevie didn’t know how it happened, though she was getting vague idea of what happened, but she hoped it was permanent. For her at least. Maybe not for Robin. Or that guy who got turned into Jason Voorhees.

Either way, Stevie hoped whatever or whoever decided to mess with Hawkins this time would let them decide if they wanted to go back. Because she really, really didn’t want to.

Plus, this would be so much easier to explain. Ope! Just another mysterious Hawkins thing! Nothing I can do about it, Mom and Dad! Guess you’ll just have to call me Stevie forever! Stevie nodded, yeah, that’d work.

Robin shoved her in front of a hanging mirror with mushrooms painted around the edges. And she did still look like herself, except...sharper somehow. She tilted her face back and forth trying to catalog the differences. She really couldn’t put it in exact words, except that she did look different...but still like her.

She looked down, finally noticing that the padding in the bra was actually her boobs. She smoothed her hand down her dress, over her breasts and soft belly, noting a lack of penis. Okay, never really thought about not having that, so that part might actually take some getting used to.

Giddiness bubbled up and she twirled to Robin, grinning. “How long do think this will last? Wait. Do you think we’re supposed to do something about it? I mean, every other time something’s happened around here the kids are right there in it, which meant I was right there in it. But I don’t wanna do anything to stop it! But, what do you think?”

She looked at Robin imploringly, waiting for her to decide how they’d handle this.

“Wow, okay, gonna need to get used to your new puppy dog eyes,” Robin held a hand up, blocking Stevie’s eyes. “They were dangerous before, but now they’re lethal. Bet you’ll be able to get anyone to do anything with those things now!”

Stevie smiled and swished her hips side to side, making her skirt flutter. “Good to know,” she laughed.

Robin groaned, rolling her eyes. “So happy for you. I’m a guy and you’re gorgeous, yep that makes sense.”

Stevie smiled, she couldn’t stop smiling, and threw an arm around Robin’s shoulders, turning them to walk down the grassy aisle through the mass chaos that had been picking up around them. “Okay, I think the little punks were coming, so let’s go see if they’re here. And what they turned into.”

“I think Max, Erica, and El bullied them into dressing up like Care Bears,” Robin said, stepping around a flower power hippie lady just sitting cross legged in the path. “They came by the store to ask me what Care Bear I think of when they said Dustin or Mike or whatever other child’s name. Pretty sure they wanted to ask you, but you were home sick, so I got to answer your children’s questions.”

“Okay, well that’s gonna be adorable. Guess I’ll keep an eye out for Grumpy Bear, I mean, Mike,” she snickered.

-

In the soft, cool shade of the dark trees, Eddie reveled in the chaos.

His powers slid along the grounds, picking up their emotions, feasting on the prickly energy of everyone’s confusion, their compulsions to give into their roles, to act out who they’d decided they wanted to be that morning. He was just giving them what they wanted after all, he smirked.

Of course, he’d made sure no one would get hurt, trapping them all within the clearing. He wasn’t the type of trickster who fed on the swirling energy of anger or desperation. Eddie would just let everyone have an afternoon of bewilderment, where they come out of it asking themselves if that really happened, no harm, no foul. Except.

He kept picking up a different emotional energy. Something sparkling and zesty, like the blinding spots of sunlight reflecting off bouncing waves: giddy happiness. How unusual.

Even the children didn’t feel like that, in their clueless excitement at suddenly being their favorite characters.

He chased the echoes of the feeling across the field, searching for an adult so deeply thrilled with being turned into their costume that they left a trail of pure, undistilled happiness in their wake.

Got them.

In his mind, he could see one person lit up like a beacon, so bright he couldn’t even see through the burst of light to the person within. Very odd. He’d never experienced this before. Perhaps if Wayne were with him, he’d know. However, one thing he did know, he was going to be watching this beacon of light til he uncovered their identity and solved this mystery.

-

Stevie and Robin reached the end of the craft booths and stared out at the field of child sized translucent ghosts, pirates, ninja turtles, and thundercats. Stevie saw the earlier pack of smurfs setting up a little town meeting near the trees.

Oddly, everyone seem contained to the field, so no children were running off into the woods never to be seen again, which was good she supposed. But, it also seemed like none of the adults were really trying to wrangle their children or fix the problem.

There was a group of hippies holding hands in a circle off to the side, a fight breaking out between a couple of singing Madonnas, and several serial killers stalked around the perimeter hiding in whatever shadows they could find.

Stevie sighed. “Why do we always have to fix things? Can’t we just sit in the grass like those Muppet Babies?” she said, waving her arm at a pile of toddler sized muppets crawling around together.

Robin looked over at her, understanding written clear across her face, even with newly masculine features she was still easy to read.

Stevie pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed deeply, “No, you’re right. Guess I really am always the goddamn babysitter. This time for the whole town, it seems. Alright, where would a pack of real life Care Bears be?”

“Duck!” Robin pulled Stevie down to the grass as a beam of rainbow light shot over them toward the fighting Madonnas. The light swirled around them in a blaze of rainbow colors before dissipating into golden sparkles, leaving two hugging Madonnas gushing about the other’s perfect voices.

Stevie blinked over at Robin. “Found them.” She stood up, brushing off her dress, and held a hand out to pull up Robin.

“Steve! We found you!” A fluffy pink bear the size of a teenager, and sounding suspiciously like El, ran toward them. “Did you notice everyone is changed? You’re so pretty now! Hi, Robin.”

Stevie reached up, ruffling the fur between El’s bear ears, and chuckled. “Now that you mention it, something weird does seem to be going on.”

It was kind of surreal, having a group of human-sized brightly colored bears trotting towards her, but if there’s one thing Stevie was good at, it was rolling with whatever Hawkins and these children threw at her.

“Okay, no one say anything! I want to see if I can guess right” Stevie took in the bears looking at her with oddly human expressions written all over their fluffy bear faces. She started pointing, “The blue Grump in clearly Mike, Heart Bear is Will, Shooting Star is Max, Sunshine is Lucas, Flower Bear is Dustin, aaaand that leaves Erica as Pink Heart Bear! Come on, tell me I wasn’t spot on.”

The bears looked at each other, looked back at Stevie, and immediately started shouting over each other.

“None of those are their names! Did you even see the cartoon?”

“Why would I clearly be Grumpy Bear! I’m not a grump! You don’t even know!”

“I’ve been turned into a girl bear! I don’t know how I know, but I do!”

“I keep having urges to be nice and cheerful and it’s making me sick!”

“I don’t know guys, this is a really good bonding opportunity to bring our friendship closer!”

Stevie knew there was no stopping them until they just naturally ran out of steam or actually remembered there was something bigger going on. She stepped back, crossing her arms under her chest, and shifted her weight to one side, cocking a hip. She sighed, waiting.

Robin, however, was clearly done waiting. “Okaaaay! Children! Can we focus!? There’s literally a guy with a giant knife stalking us from behind that tent leg and you’re standing here arguing about Care Bears! Maybe we should put your powers of friendship to good use and think up a plan, hm?”

Dustin Bear stepped forward. “Yeah, that’s not really how our powers work. And perhaps you’d like to be a little nicer? I have to keep fighting the urge to blast a beam of kindness at you. I’m really not sure what that’d do to you. Though, maybe if I ask nicely you’ll let me blast you and we can see?”

Stevie blinked as Dustin held out his fluffy paws, nicely asking Robin if he could blast her. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh at how ridiculous it all was or preserve to memory Dustin actually speaking with a nice and sweet tone...even as he asked to experiment on her friend. Still. Maybe, when it was all undone, this whole day would be worth it just for taking Dustin down a snarky notch.

-

Eddie felt the beacon of joy and happiness dim a single iota. What had happened?

This was getting ridiculous. He should be focusing on the rest of the town members, on the chaos he’d reaped, in the lesson he’d taught them about the true meaning of Summerween. But all he could focus on was one person. One glowing, rapturous, brilliant person. He had to know.

Eddie stepped out from the tree line and followed the bread crumbs of sweet joy through the field, sidestepping the town of characters acting out their stories. A child size ghoul ran head first into his shin, fell back, bounced up, and darted toward a small witch standing at a tiny cauldron. He shook his head, blinking away the sight of the witch pushing the ghoul into the cauldron. They were fine.

His journey led him to the back of a group of giant arguing Care Bears, their paws waving at each other making hilariously adorable points, he was sure. None of them however were his beacon. He walked a wide path around them and saw her.

-

Stevie was still waiting for the kids to remember they had an actual goal to achieve with all their squabling. Robin had finally realized what Stevie had already known and was crowded beside her muttering under her breath about never wanting children if this is what it’s like. Stevie understood the annoyance, but still thought it’d be nice to one day have her own Muppet Baby. She shrugged to herself.

A dark figure to their side caught her eye. Worried it was one of the many serial killers getting too close, she shifted her weight to send a dark look over at them, hoping to intimidate them into finding another group of victims. But oh! It was just Eddie from school.

She smiled at him, waving for him to join them. “Hey, Eddie! You got caught up in this Summerween day spell too, huh? What were you dressed as, an elf or fairy or something? Your hair looks awesome.”

Eddie seemed a little out of it as he came closer. Maybe he’s still stuck in his character?

“It’s me, Stevie Harrington, we went to school together? This is Robin, obviously. And these Care Bears are our kids- uh, the kids. From Hellfire. You know, Dustin and them.”

She felt a flush crawl up her neck to her cheeks. Apparently, she blushed a lot easier now, which was unfortunate. She hadn’t meant to imply the pipsqueaks were their kids, no matter how much Dustin acts like they’re his second set of divorced parents.

But now that the thought entered her mind, she looked at Eddie again. He was pretty tall like this. And his hair was long and shiny and so very curly. And his eyes-

Were staring right into her. The hot flush rushed downwards. He gazed at her as if seeing within, seeing the truth of her, knowing her. She gulped.

He stepped forward, his eyes never leaving hers. He held out a hand. Blinking down at it and back up to him, she slid her hand in his, her heart thudding and her breath speeding up. Somehow, she knew this was an important moment in her life, one that could change it forever.

-

Eddie lifted Stevie’s hand, pressing his lips to her knuckles. He had no idea how they’d gone to school together for so many years and he’d never seen really her. She was glowing, lit up from within with a happiness that one so very infrequently gets to experience, a happiness that suffuses every little cell in their body and shines so even those without magic can see. He wanted to give that to her forever. He could.

He closed his eyes, bowing his head over her hand, pushing his power through their joined hands, down her arm, and into her. Stevie gasped. He glanced up, meeting her eyes. She looked...hopeful, her eyes wide and chest heaving. He pressed, pushing more magic within her. Her body trembled and she took a tentative step toward him, her hand coming up to grab his hip.

“Eddie,” she breathed out. She looked up at him like she couldn’t believe he was real and standing in front of her, like he’d disappear if she looked away. “Please tell me this is real and not one of your little make believe games.”

He smiled, already so enamored, “Honey, this is as real as it can get. Don’t worry, the rest of them will go back to their normal selves soon enough. But you- I just want you to stay this happy forever. Is that- Will that make you happy?”

She trembled, the hand on his waist twitched, bunching his tunic tight. She nodded. “And you? Is this...you?”

“This form?”

She nodded.

“It is, though my human form is just as real. Do you like this one, baby?”

Her cheeks flushed red and he grinned. Her face dropped into a glare.

She tsk-ed. “Don’t get too cocky, Eddie. Let’s see what you’ve got when you’re not all tall and hot.”

Eddie smirked, “So, you think I’m hot stuff, huh?”

Stevie rolled her eyes, huffing out a breath, but he could see a happy smile playing at the edges of her lips, so he’d take it. Movement from behind her caught his eye. “Incoming.”

-

Stevie was staring up at Eddie, wondering what he meant, when a wall of yellow fur shoved its way between them. She stumbled back and waved an angry hand out at Dustin’s back. “Dude!”

Robin stepped in close to her. “I couldn’t hold them off any longer. They seemed to think he was ‘working dark magics’ on you and didn’t believe me when I said their mommy and daddy were just making up for lost time.”

“Wait.” Stevie glanced over at Robin. “Am I the mommy or the daddy?”

Robin flicked a flat look at her. “Does it matter? I couldn’t hear everything, but did he do this to us? I don’t like being taller than you. It’s weird and I can see the top of your head.”

“Yeah,” Stevie smiled, watching Eddie getting surrounded and accosted by teenaged mutant Care Bears, “he said it’d wear off soon and everyone will go back to normal. Except me.”

Knowing she’d be like this forever made her pause. She was so happy, it was exactly what she wanted. But, also...she almost felt like she was cheating, skipping a thousand little steps others must take if they were like her. She thought she had time to face this future, time to tell the kids, time to tell or not tell her parents.

It was suddenly real in a way it hadn’t been before when she had to keep this to herself and could only bring it out in the open two days a year. She’d been afraid, she realized, and not just of the reaction of people around her.

She’d been afraid of doing anything that would lead her to this conclusion. If it hadn’t been for this chaotic Summerween day, she doesn’t know if she ever would’ve had the courage to walk down the hard path toward being herself. Would she have lived forever as Steve Harrington? Married a woman. Had kids with her. All while waiting every year for the two days she could bring out her hidden dress and make-up?

Welp. She may now have a different difficult path to walk, but at least she’ll do it as Stevie Harrington. And she knows she’ll have Robin by her side, the children too, once they stop haranguing Eddie. She’s also pretty positive she’s going to have Eddie by her side as well. Just a feeling.

“Stevie!” Eddie shouted, throwing a panicked look over the tops of fuzzy ears.

Stevie rolled her eyes and clapped her hands loudly. “Alright guys! Take a step back. He might actually be able to explain himself if you stopped jumping all over him.”

Four bears rolled their eyes at her and grumbled while pointedly taking one step back away from Eddie. “Eddie? Why don’t you start with how it’s not permanent?”

Robin shuffled closer and Eddie started his explanation from the beginning. Stevie looked around for the other three bears and found them sitting nearby in a little circle in some shade. She nodded, content at knowing where all her charges were. It may be a surprise babysitting situation, but she wasn’t going to let them get into trouble now that they were under her watch.

She turned back as the boys started chatting, Eddie clearly done with his explanation. Dustin turned to Stevie, “Eddie said he’s keeping everyone safe, so we’re gonna go experiment with our beams of power. We’ll start reversing in about an hour, so you guys don’t have long til you’re Steve and Robin again!”

“Dustin,” Stevie took a deep breath, Robin slipped her hand in hers, “I’m gonna stay like this. Robin will go back to being a girl and you guys will go back to kids, but I don’t want to go back to being a boy. So, yeah. This is how I’ll be forever. Except, I’ll keep getting older. Wait-”

“Yeah, babe, you’ll keep aging. I didn’t make you immortal or anything. Just changed your form.”

“Okay, then yeah. Dustin, I’m gonna be Stevie for the rest of my life. Is that- I mean, are you- That’s just how it’s gonna be.” she nodded firmly.

Dustin blinked at her not saying anything. It was probably the longest Stevie had ever seen him not speak. She glanced over at Robin, who squeezed her hand. She was suddenly surrounded by warm, yellow fur. She snaked an arm around, hugging Dustin back.

“You okay, bud?” she said automatically, the same thing she’s ever said when he hugged her out of the blue.

“I’m good,” he muttered into her shoulder. “It’s weird that you’re so pretty, but I’ll get used to it since you’re like my sister now.”

She breathed out a laugh, surprised and happy with how easy that went. She looked up over his head, noticing the rest of the kids waiting. Will gave her a thumbs up. She smiled and waved them over for a group hug, the girls crowded in from behind, pushing Robin out of the hug circle.

“Why are you so pretty as a girl, though? That doesn’t seem fair.” Stevie heard Mr. Grumpy Bear Mike mutter. She shook her head, rubbing against several fluffy ears.

“Just special, I guess.” She smiled, closing her eyes, soaking it all in. She’d probably never get them all like this again once they were back to being human teenagers, so she was going to savor it, remember it.

-

Eddie would remember this as the best Summerween. Not because he taught the town a lesson in the true meaning of the holiday, but because of that moment, right there. Seeing Stevie glow so brightly surrounded by all her favorite people and knowing he played such an enormous part.

Perhaps, Summerween wasn’t only about the spooky elements of summer, the dark shade created by the harsh sun. Perhaps, it could also be about cloudless blue skies, the hot sun high above, its light glinting off windows and lakes. Eddie sighed, knowing he would get Wayne’s “I told you so” look the moment he told him about this little revelation he had today.

Eddie had been so sure their family’s old ways were better, that the town needed to be brought down a peg for him to feast and for them to understand they were nothing compared to his and Wayne’s Trickster lineage. After years of them treating them like crap, they’d learn just how powerful they could be. That they live in the shadow of his power.

But no. His first Summerween as a full Trickster had to be the one where he met Stevie, the brightest star in his night sky. Wayne had warned him, telling him stories since he was little that Tricksters had a choice, that whichever way they chose could warp their powers.

Of course, Eddie hadn’t understood, thought he was just playing an innocent little trick on the town, that he couldn’t ever become a Trickster who feasts on anger and vengeance. But looking at Stevie shine? He realized how close he had come.

He was going to hold onto her for the rest of his life, if she let him. His beacon of happiness.

[stevieweek]

Rating: Explicit Category: F/M Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Chrissy Cunningham, The Party (Stranger Things) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Trans Steve Harrington, MtF Steve Harrington, Gender Identity, Eddie Munson Lives, Light Dom/sub, Dom Eddie Munson, Sub Steve Harrington Summary: For @stevieweek, witness Stevie's journey to who she really is and finding love with one Eddie Munson

Chapter 1 is Prom <3

[stevieweek]

🩵Rating: T 🩷 Words: 700 🤍 CW: Chrissy unknowingly dead names Stevie 🩷 Tags: Trans!Steve Harrington, Established Steddie, Pre-Buckingham, Spicy Six go to a Pride Parade, Chrissy's first time at Pride, Community building Fluff 🩵 For @genderthings Pride Things Bingo Prompt: Chrissy Cunningham 🩷 For @stevieweek day 4 Prompt: Pride Parade 🤍 Ao3

🩵🩷🤍🩷🩵🩷🤍🩷🩵🩷🤍🩷🩵🩷🤍🩷🩵🩷🤍🩷🩵

The sounds of the parade and craft vendors wafted over to where Stevie lay, her head on Eddie’s chest, his hand petting through her short locks. She shifted her hips, hooking a leg over Eddie’s. Her skirt shifted around her hips and she rubbed their legs together like crickets. Crickets with hairy legs, she giggled to herself. Wonder if they can make a sound. Snuffling closer to Eddie's chest, a pink and blonde figure wandering around uncertainly caught her eye.

“Hey guys, do I see who I think I see over there? Those are definitely the wide, panicked eyes of a first timer.” Stevie pointed, elbow resting on Eddie’s belly.

Robin looked over, though too briefly to actually see where Stevie was pointing, shrugged and continued to point out shapes in the clouds. Argyle, Jonathon, and Nancy didn’t even look up from their cuddle pile. Eddie just hummed, eyes closed, his head pillowed by his arm. Stevie huffed. Sure, it’d been a long day and sure, they’d partaken of Argyle’s fancy Californian weed, but still!

“I’m gonna go save her.” Stevie rolled up from the ground in one motion. Standing, she pushed her tank and spaghetti straps back into place and checked to see if the tight legs of her boxers were visible from beneath her skirt. Eh, whatever. If people see, people see.

She picked her way across the lawn, side stepping couples and groups splayed across blankets on the grass. She’d thought about wearing heels that morning, but thankfully decided on tennis shoes, even if her pinks ones didn’t match the exact shade of her pleated tennis skirt; she sighed, oh, the things one sacrifices for comfort.

She approached the lost girl from behind and tapped her on the shoulder. Chrissy Cunningham spun around, eyes still wide.

“Sorry, am I in the way? Oh! Oh my god, Steve Harrington? Hi! It’s me, Chrissy! From Hawkins High?”

Stevie chuckled. “I know, hi Chrissy. And actually, it’s Stevie now,” she casually pointed to the blue, pink, and white flag painted on her cheek.

Chrissy’s faced morphed into a horrified moue. “I am so sorry. Stevie. Sorry.”

Stevie smiled and gave her a gentle shrug, “Eh, you didn’t know. Plus, it seems like you’re a little overwhelmed? First time to Pride?”

“Oh no, is it that obvious?” Her eyes went wide and embarrassed. She pushed her fingers into her long blond hair and pulled it in front of her, reminding Stevie so viscerally of Eddie she glanced back over to see him still lounging on their blanket. Chrissy blinked repeatedly at her. “I just- I figured out some stuff recently and I wanted- well, I’m not sure what I was expecting coming here, so maybe I shouldn’t’ve-”

“Nah, it’s just more fun with people!” Stevie cut in, hoping to cut off that line of thinking. Chrissy just needed to connect with others, not wander around feeling left out. “Come on, I think you know most everyone in our group already. Plus, you’re not the only first timer we’ve got, so you guys can compare notes!”

Stevie led Chrissy back to their blankets, introducing her to the group. Will wasn’t back from his walk about, but the cuddle pile trio waved their welcome. Eddie sat up, “So, Stevie got you to join our little ragtag group, huh? Come on, pull up a blanket.”

Robin squeaked, “Hello! Hi! Welcome to us! -to our grass. Our spot!” Groaning, she dropped her head in her hands and hid behind Eddie’s back.

Stevie shook her head lovingly as they sat down. “You remember Robin, right?”

Chrissy leaned around Eddie trying catch Robin’s eyes. “Robin, hi! You were in Click’s class, right? I always thought you looked really cool.” Robin looked at her stunned, blush flushing up her neck.

Stevie looked over at Eddie, who had a matching excited grin crossing his face. Eddie laid back down, stretching along Stevie’s side, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I have a good feeling about those two.”

Stevie watched Robin and Chrissy giggle, ducking their heads, matching blushes gracing their cheeks. “Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

🩵🩷🤍🩷🩵🩷🤍🩷🩵🩷🤍🩷🩵🩷🤍🩷🩵🩷🤍🩷🩵

[stevieweek]

IT'S STEVIE WEEK!

Stevie Week 2025

Hello! This year we're doing Stevie Week during pride month! (Check out Pride Things at @genderthings too!)

Guide:

Posting period is 22-28th June.

No min or max wordcount.

Tag #stevieweek2025

All forms of fanworks are welcome, just don't use AI.

All characters and ships are welcome.

Tag the rating, ships, and Stevie's identity (It can be vague!).

Tag NSFW and disturbing content and put it under the cut.

The prompts are optional! As long as your work has Stevie in it, it's all that matters!

In the meantime, feel free to tag me in your Stevie Week wips. Happy creating!

Prompt list:

cottagecore, prom

cryptid, hospital

horror, princess

jock, pride parade

mall, after party

convention, punk

fantasy, crop top

[stevieweek]

Stevie Week starts today!

Stevie Week 2025

Hello! This year we're doing Stevie Week during pride month! (Check out Pride Things at @genderthings too!)

Guide:

Posting period is 22-28th June.

No min or max wordcount.

Tag #stevieweek2025

All forms of fanworks are welcome, just don't use AI.

All characters and ships are welcome.

Tag the rating, ships, and Stevie's identity (It can be vague!).

Tag NSFW and disturbing content and put it under the cut.

The prompts are optional! As long as your work has Stevie in it, it's all that matters!

In the meantime, feel free to tag me in your Stevie Week wips. Happy creating!

Prompt list:

cottagecore, prom

cryptid, hospital

horror, princess

jock, pride parade

mall, after party

convention, punk

fantasy, crop top

[stevieweek]

— trans pride dividers (request)

[Free] Masterlist Headers & Dividers!

Please consider liking or reblogging if you use 💕

[stevieweek]

NEXT SUNDAY!

Stevie Week 2025

Hello! This year we're doing Stevie Week during pride month! (Check out Pride Things at @genderthings too!)

Guide:

Posting period is 22-28th June.

No min or max wordcount.

Tag #stevieweek2025

All forms of fanworks are welcome, just don't use AI.

All characters and ships are welcome.

Tag the rating, ships, and Stevie's identity (It can be vague!).

Tag NSFW and disturbing content and put it under the cut.

The prompts are optional! As long as your work has Stevie in it, it's all that matters!

In the meantime, feel free to tag me in your Stevie Week wips. Happy creating!

Prompt list:

cottagecore, prom

cryptid, hospital

horror, princess

jock, pride parade

mall, after party

convention, punk

fantasy, crop top

[stevieweek]

do i wanna know (if this feeling goes both ways)

Explicit | 3.5k | Female Steve Harrington, Creep Eddie Munson, Hate sex | Full tags on Ao3 Inspired by this art and this art, both by the incredible @2jihiir0.

Eddie Munson is the bane of Stephanie Harrington’s existence. 

The man is a menace. He's constantly making a scene, always stomping around on tables, hurling insults at jocks and shouting about something. Not to mention he's a fucking creep. Stevie has caught him hanging around during the girl's swim practice more than once, and he seems completely shameless when someone calls him out for leering at the cheerleaders.

What pisses Stevie off more than anything is that she's been hooking up with him on a semi-regular basis for the last four months, ever since she traded him a blowjob for a couple of joints at Beth Johnson’s birthday party. Not her best moment, she knows, but she was desperate for something to take her mind off the fact that she walked in on her boyfriend at the time fucking the birthday girl herself.

It devolved from there, with Eddie practically seducing her after swim practice a few days later, which ended with Stevie in the back of his van, better fucked than she had been in a while. It pained her to admit that Eddie the Freak is actually a good fucking lay, but their different social standing hadn't stopped her from seeking him out, or from accepting whenever he offered.

It's another normal Monday morning, and Stevie is swapping books in her locker when the smell of cigarettes and leather hits her just before a body presses up against her back. She knows who it is without even turning around and bites back an annoyed groan.

“What do you want, Munson?” she asks as she pulls out another book.

An arm drapes over her shoulder and Eddie leans in close as he says “Heard you went out with Jackson Greene on Friday. How’d that go for you, princess?”

Stevie rolls her eyes and makes a half-hearted attempt to shrug Eddie off that he ignores. “Why do you care?” 

Eddie hums and slips a finger under her sweater to snap her bra strap. A shudder runs down Stevie's spine and she hates how the simple action makes her stomach clench with desire. She jerks her arm back and digs her elbow into Eddie’s ribs in retaliation, but the man just chuckles. 

“Just curious. I wanted to hear your side of the story, since he was going around in gym earlier telling all the guys that he had you crying and begging for his dick.” He leans in, flooding the little space with his scent. “And that doesn’t really sound like the Ice Queen I know.”

That asshole. Stevie scoffs and reaches into her locker again. “Maybe he’s just better than you.” 

He wasn’t. Jackson was a clumsy fuck who couldn't even be bothered to warm Stevie up before he put his dick in her, and she definitely was neither crying nor begging for the few minutes he managed to last. But Eddie doesn’t need to know that.

Eddie hums and slides his hand down, slipping his fingers into the top of her shirt, resting against the swell of her breast. She doesn’t move a muscle, knowing that the slightest shift would mean anyone having a view of Eddie practically groping her.

“That’s what you said last time, too, about Andrew. But remind me whose dick you came running back to less than a week later, hm?”

Stevie’s face floods with heat and she knows he’s right, knows that four days after her date with Andrew Fisher found her in the back of Eddie’s van again, the man’s cock drilling into her in a way that no one else seems to be able to replicate.  She hates how much she craves it, and she’s gained a bit of a reputation with how much she’s been sleeping around, trying to find someone that can make her feel better than Eddie Munson does. No one’s been able to even compare, though, and she always finds her way back to his smug fucking face.

“Stevie, are you coming?”

The call from Carol snaps the tension that had been stretched so tight between them, and Eddie gives a parting “Maybe later, sweetheart,” before stepping away and heading down the hall.

He's so goddamn annoying.

Stevie slams her locker shut and ignores the wet spot she can already feel growing on her panties. She walks with Carol to their next class but barely takes anything in because she's too busy seething over Munson's audacity. She goes through the rest of the day thinking about him; watches another one of Eddie's tabletop sermons and hates him. Hates his voice, hates his clothes, hates his ostentatious attitude.

Most importantly, she hates that she can't stop coming back to him.

Sometimes in the moments after, when Stevie is coming down from her orgasmic high and Eddie's touch has shifted from a rough grab to a tender caress, she wishes things were different. She wishes that they were actually something other than fuck buddies, wishes that Eddie actually cared about her and not just about getting his dick wet. Stevie sees the way he cares for the people that are his, and sometimes she wishes she were one of them.

(When she's feeling particularly lonely, she tries not to think about all of the other girls who probably get Eddie's discount price, and usually fails.)

It's all dumb, wishful thinking from a girl who can't keep any boy around for more than a handful of dates. All thing's considered, Eddie is probably the longest "relationship" Stevie's had so far, even though they've never done anything that could be considered romantic. No, Eddie clearly only sees Stevie as a no strings attached way to get his rocks off, an easy lay whenever he needs to scratch the itch.

It's that thought that makes Stevie's bubbling frustration settle into a low simmer. Because if all Eddie sees her as is a cheap slut, then what's stopping her from treating him the same way? If she wants a good fuck without having to jump through hoops, then what's stopping her from using Eddie to get just that?

Hellfire usually meets on Fridays, but for the last few weeks they've had to switch to Mondays because of the upcoming school play. Today, Stevie is thankful for it because that means she knows exactly where to find Eddie. She makes her way through the emptying halls until she's at the door to the drama room.

Stevie doesn't bother knocking, just walks in like she owns the place and multiple sets of eyes instantly snap over to her. Eddie leans back in his chair, seemingly amused as he says “Well, if it isn't Hawkins’ beloved Ice Queen, here to grace us with her frigid presence. What can we do for you, highness?”

Stevie glances over the few other people in the room before her gaze locks back on Eddie. She straightens up a bit and puts on her most bitchy expression before replying with a curt “Club's canceled. We have business to take care of, Munson.”

Stevie knows how much this club means to Eddie. She's seen the passion and care he has for his so-called little sheepies, and she fully expects him to turn her away, to tell her to wait until after, or even until tomorrow. Stevie braces herself, ready to argue against any rebuff, so color her surprised when Eddie grins, all teeth and victory.

“You heard the queen, boys. Pack it up.”

There's a bit of protest that Eddie quickly shuts down - something that Stevie should not find as hot as she does, watching him command the room with ease - and shortly after her entrance, the members of the club are filing out of the room. "You caved pretty quick this time, princess. Jackson must have been a pretty shitty fuck for you to be claiming defeat so soon," he says as he leans forward in his seat, smug as fucking anything. It makes her so angry.

Stevie locks the door and goes over to Eddie, fists her hand in that dumb fucking t-shirt and pushes until the man is forced back into the chair behind him. Eddie's grin doesn't even twitch as he slouches back against the throne, and Stevie wants to slap him.

“Open your pants,” she snaps as she rucks up her skirt, and is pleased when Eddie scrambles to open his belt and shove his jeans and underwear down. She slips off her panties and climbs onto the chair, straddling Eddie’s lap as she takes his dick in hand. He’s already half-hard, and she gives it a few strokes to help him along as she says “Jesus, it’s always so easy to get you worked up. Fucking pathetic.”

Eddie barks a laugh that grates on Stevie's nerves. “You say that like your pussy’s not dripping onto my leg right now.”

"It's fucking not," Stevie objects, because it isn't. Her panties might have been damp for most of the day, but she's not worked up enough to be leaking like that.

"You sure?" Eddie snarks as he reaches down, surely intending to shove a finger or two into her wet cunt. Usually Stevie doesn't mind, welcomes it even - Eddie is too fucking clever with his hands, has made her go boneless with just his fingers more than once - but this time she slaps the hand away.

"Shut up, Munson," Stevie snaps. Eddie just grins and grabs her waist as she lines up and sinks down onto Eddie's cock. She bites back a whimper because, god, it really does just fill her so fucking perfectly. Not that she'd ever admit that to his face - it would only inflate his already massive ego, and that's the last thing she wants.

Eddie makes a punched out noise as Stevie drops the rest of the way. She gasps at the sudden stretch and doesn't move, taking a second to adjust. Eddie’s hands slide up into her top, pushing both it and her bra out of the way as he grabs at her tits.

“Hello girls,” he says, and Stevie barely has a chance to roll her eyes at the antics before Eddie is leaning in and sinking his teeth into her right nipple. She yelps a "Fuck!" and her hips jerk, causing them both to moan at the stimulation.

"Don't- Don't talk to my boobs," Stevie gets out after a second, and Eddie just grins.

"But they're so pretty," he says as he leans in and licks a wide stripe over the aching nub. He grabs at her other breast, sucking and groping until Stevie is squirming from the stimulation.

"Okay, okay, stop it," she snaps as she pushes Eddie back, wanting to get this show on the road already. She braces her hands on Eddie's shoulders as she starts to ride him properly, lifting up and dropping back down onto his dick with a soft groan. Eddie moans low and moves his hands down to her hips, holding but not controlling as he lets her figure out her pace.

"Such a fucking dream, baby, bouncing in my lap like a needy little slut."

"God, do you evenknow how to be quiet?" Stevie asks as her nails sink into Eddie's shoulders. The man just laughs and digs his thumbs into the dip of her hips, causing her pace to falter slightly.

"What, princess? You don't like it when I tell you how pretty you look on my dick?"

She does. Stevie loves the praise, will take it in any form Eddie gives it to her. Will take the slut as long as she gets the pretty along with it.

Eddie doesn't need to know that though.

"Stop fucking talking and fuck me already,"

Eddie gives her another shit-eating grin. "Your wish is my command, highness."

He tightens his grip on Stevie's hips, holding her in place as he fucks up into her fast and hard, making Stevie squeal in a way that she'll absolutely deny later. The sound seems to encourage Eddie, spurring him on as he pulls her down to meet every snap of his hips.

It only takes a minute of that before the hair-trigger she's been on for hours snaps, and Stevie gasps and shakes as she comes, hands slipping and dropping her forward as Eddie fucks her through it. She's trembling as he finally slows to a stop, but she doesn't get a chance to catch her breath before he's biting into her tit again, hard.

Stevie snaps up with a "Fucking ow!" and slaps him across the face, the first time she's ever laid a hand on him like that. Eddie doesn't even seem mad about it. He just gives her a wicked grin and a "My turn," as he hooks his hands under her thighs and stands suddenly, bringing Stevie up with him.

She yelps as Eddie drops her back onto the table, knocking the stuff he hadn't bothered to clean onto the floor, and pulls until her ass is hanging off the edge. Stevie barely has a chance to brace herself before he’s fucking into her properly, hitting deeper than before.

"Oh, fuck! Eddie!"

Eddie grabs her waist to hold her in place, thumbs digging into the soft give of her stomach as he fucks her just the way she loves. It’s so goddamn good, every snap forcing a noise from Stevie’s mouth even as she tries to bite them back, and Eddie grins.

“Yeah, this is what you really wanted, isn't it princess? Just needed a good dick to make you happy, huh?”

Stevie keens in response and reaches out, trying to find something that she can grab on to, needing to ground herself. She sends more stuff scattering to the floor, but if Eddie doesn't care, she certainly doesn't. Her hand catches the edge of the table and it's all she can do at this point to hang on, to just take what Eddie is giving her.

It's so much so soon, but Eddie doesn't seem to give a fuck as he drills into her, chasing his own orgasm. His eyes are dark as he stares down at her, nearly black in the low light of the room. Stevie feels caught in his gaze, held in place like a butterfly laid out and pinned down for display.

No one ever looks at her the way Eddie does, like he wants to put her up on a shelf and keep her. Like he wants to dissect her, cut her open and feel the warmth of her insides. Stevie thinks she would let him, at this point. Would do anything to keep his attention for longer than five fucking minutes.

"Fuuuck, I'm gonna come," Eddie groans as his hips snap into her. "Gonna fill your pretty cunt, baby, mark you from the inside out. Leave you fucking dripping with it." Stevie nods dumbly and begs a "Yes, please, fuck!" far past worrying about her image at this point.

Eddie brings a hand down to rub at her clit in small, quick movements that send electric shocks up the length of her spine. Stevie jerks against the touch and gasps a "Fuckfuckfuck!" as she comes again, her back arching off the table with the force of it. Her ears start ringing almost immediately, but underneath it she can hear the way Eddie growls as he slams into her a few more times before he comes, fucking them both through it.

Stevie twitches with overstimulation as Eddie's hips slow, then stop. He drops down, forearms braced on the table as they both catch their breath, as Stevie enjoys the aftershocks that zip through to her fingers and toes.

And then, Eddie does something unexpected.

He kisses her.

In their four months of hooking up, they've never once kissed. It's been a near thing a few times, with their faces pressed close and breath mingling, but neither has crossed that final line. For Stevie, she didn't think it would be welcome. For Eddie, Stevie just assumed that he didn't want to kiss her.

It's a welcome surprise, honestly.

Stevie kisses back, opening her mouth when his tongue presses to the seam of her lips. Eddie tastes like cigarettes and cinnamon gum, but it's not off-putting, and she sucks on his tongue as he pushes deeper. He's good at this, Stevie has to admit, persistent and messy in a way that makes her toes curl.

Eddie breaks it after a moment and moves down, pressing kisses to Stevie's chin and the underside of her jaw. "You don't know how mad it makes me, baby, seeing you go off with all those other guys when you know I'm better than all of them."

Stevie shivers and tips her head back, offering more of her neck to the man. "I want a boyfriend, Eddie. I want someone who actually cares about me, not someone who just cares about getting laid."

That makes Eddie pause before he sits up, taking his warmth with him as he looks down at Stevie. "Is that what's been happening, sweetheart? You've been playing hard to get because you think I don't wanna be your boyfriend?"

Stevie bites back a pout and turns her head to the side, avoiding eye contact. "You've never asked me out, so why would I think otherwise?"

There's a beat of silence before Eddie steps back, his soft dick slipping free, and Stevie winces as her pussy clenches around nothing. She's not empty for long, Eddie filling her again with two fingers as he pushes his cum back inside her.

"Do you remember the first time we fucked?" Eddie asks, his eyes trained on where his fingers are held in the warmth of her body. "It was in my van, after your swim practice. You didn't get the chance to shower so you still smelled like chlorine, but I didn't mind it because it was on your skin. After, I asked if you wanted to go to Benny's and you turned me down, said you just wanted to get home."

Stevie frowns and looks down at him, because— "You never asked that."

"I did, though," he says, gaze dark as he slowly begins to finger fuck her, a lazy pace that makes her shiver. "I thought I just lucked out, convinced you to sleep with me once and that was all I was gonna get. So color me surprised when you found me a few days later, practically begging for my dick again."

"I didn't beg— Oh!" Stevie gasps as he thrusts into her hard, just the one time before he resumes that careful pace.

"You can deny it all you want, angel, but I've never seen a girl beg as pretty as you do. So I figured if this is all I was gonna get from you, then so be it. I'd be your fuck buddy if that's what you wanted."

Eddie twists his fingers and Stevie squirms at the stimulation, can feel the steady build of pleasure once again as he speeds up. "Then you started going out with other boys, and I thought you were done with me, except you just kept coming back. And now you're telling me that this whole time you've been pissy because you wanted me to ask you out, when you're the one that turned me down first."

Stevie shakes her head as she arches into his touch. "I don't remember— I didn't—"

Eddie tuts and starts to fuck her properly, his fingers driving into her sweet-spot with every thrust. "Maybe it's my fault, though. Maybe you were too cum-drunk to realize I was asking you out. Is that what it was, princess? You just couldn't think straight after getting fucked so good?"

Stevie can't take any more. Her body is overstimulated, overwhelmed by the pleasure Eddie is practically forcing on her. It should be painful, but it only adds to the experience as Stevie shakes apart on her third orgasm, her entire body twitching as Eddie fucks her through it. He stops after a moment and pulls his fingers out, and Stevie is embarrassed to see that his hand is drenched down to his wrist.

Stevie feels like she's in a daze as she watches Eddie suck his fingers clean before wiping the rest of his hand on his jeans. She feels sated, loose in a way she can't ever find with anyone else.

"Ask me again," Stevie says, her voice soft, still breathless after all of that. Eddie looks at her and his face softens with a smile she's never seen before, something small and kind that makes her heart clench.

"Stevie Harrington, can I take you to Benny's?"

Stevie sits up and winces when she feels a mix if Eddie's cum and her own slick leaking from her pussy. "Only if you clean me up, first. I'm not gonna walk into Benny's place with your jizz running down my leg."

Eddie laughs, bright and loud. "Of course. Your wish is my command, princess."

[stevieweek]

I love her, i wish she was real

[stevieweek]

Ah, what a coincidence!

Here is a list of prompts for each day. You don't have to stick to the day or the prompts, feel free to mix & match or use your own ideas!

The first prompt for each day is kink related, and the second is not.

Sunday: Latex & Sunset/Sunrise

Monday: Humiliation & Elbow Grease

Tuesday: Spit/Fluid & Perfume

Wednesday: Aftermath & Art

Thursday: Non-verbal Negotiation & Dancing

Friday: Exposure & Glass

Saturday: Roleplay & Forest

These run from June 22nd to June 28th!

Have fun!

[stevieweek]

For this Wip Wednesday I'm sharing a page with hot Stevies in dresses and other cute clothing 👉👈🌸

[stevieweek]

she did it right there, out on the deck -

put her canine teeth in the side of my neck! 🦷