Steddie Week

Join us from July 1 - 7 to celebrate all things Steddie (Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson) PROMPTS / FAQ (MOBILE) / PLAYLIST Icon by @sharpbutsoft

[steddie-week]

Steddie Week 2024 is officially over!

We're still monitoring for late works, but thank you so much to everyone who participated and shared their beautiful creations with us for the second annual Steddie Week! If you made something and we have not yet reblogged it, please send us an ask or tag us.

We had over 200 submissions for this year's celebration which is absolutely incredible. You're all amazing! Make sure to check out the fics, art, and works in the AO3 collection and to please reblog, kudos, and comment on those that you enjoy! 💕

A huge thank you to @pizzaqueen for creating the super inspiring prompts this year (and in 2023- check out those works too while you're at it!) and to @sharpbutsoft for making the wonderful promo graphics!

See you all next year for Steddie Week 2025!

-Steddie Week Mods 🦇⚓️

[steddie-week]

Hi! Just wondering whether you were still planning on going ahead with steddie week this year? <3

hi! thanks for asking! one of the co-mods is super swamped and the other is co-modding the steddie bang, so we haven't come up with prompts and whatnot just yet. i'd anticipate a fall steddie week this year, before st5 debuts!

[steddie-week]

Will you he hosting steddie week again this year?

that's the plan! we'll have more details coming soon!

[steddie-week]

Why are you running another steddie week so close to this one? There are so many events going on already

hi there!

the steddie week event being discussed for september is not connected to us or to our annual event. that's an entirely different steddie event run by different mods and we have no connection to them.

our next steddie week will not run until next year!

[steddie-week]

Steddie Week 2024 is officially over!

We're still monitoring for late works, but thank you so much to everyone who participated and shared their beautiful creations with us for the second annual Steddie Week! If you made something and we have not yet reblogged it, please send us an ask or tag us.

We had over 200 submissions for this year's celebration which is absolutely incredible. You're all amazing! Make sure to check out the fics, art, and works in the AO3 collection and to please reblog, kudos, and comment on those that you enjoy! 💕

A huge thank you to @pizzaqueen for creating the super inspiring prompts this year (and in 2023- check out those works too while you're at it!) and to @sharpbutsoft for making the wonderful promo graphics!

See you all next year for Steddie Week 2025!

-Steddie Week Mods 🦇⚓️

[soaringornithopter]

One Is the Loneliest Number

I tried to hit the trifecta of three different prompt events in one fic, and I think I succeeded! This was written for @steddiemicrofic (1,111 words for 'one'), @steddiesongfics (lyrics from "One" originally by Harry Nilsson then covered by Three Dog Night and "One Night Alone" by Vixen), and @steddie-week (also the Vixen song plus a bit of mystery/secret relationship, though really it's just a misunderstanding).

'one' | 1,111 words | T | cw: mild language | Read on AO3

Eddie’d had enough.

He may still, despite his newer friends’ arguments to the contrary, think that he’ll usually take the coward’s way out of confrontations by ignoring them or running away entirely, but in this case, he valued this relationship too much to just let it die. He was going to breach Steve’s walls, both literal and metaphorical, and figure out exactly why he’d suddenly become persona non grata.

After the world had not ended, Eddie recovered and found himself drawn inexorably into the circle of people “in the know”. He still had his old circle of friends, but their families still distrusted Eddie, so socializing with them was much more complicated than sticking with the ones who’d fought Vecna. Even so, he and his uncle made the choice to leave Hawkins after one too many vandals damaged their new home.

They didn’t go that far—just a few towns over—so, on weekends, the others would often come visit. Then, some of them started to also move away (going to college or their parents finding a “safer” place to settle), but Steve had stayed.

And, in some ways, Steve became his touchstone.

Sure, Eddie made new friends and acquaintances. He’d even introduced them, and they seemed to get along well enough. Of all of them though, Eddie knew that Steve had become his best friend, his comrade, his confidant, his bosom companion if he were in a more poetic mood… which, at the moment, he was not.

All because, a few weeks ago, Steve had become distant and started giving excuses for why he couldn’t chat on the phone or come over to visit.

Well, something had to give and it wasn’t going to be Eddie this time. Instead, it was going to have to be the lock on the sliding door to the Harrington’s sun room in the back.

He’d confirmed that Steve wasn’t working today (by, in his opinion, very cleverly calling Family Video earlier) and his knowledge of Steve’s usual habits made him fairly certain that he’d be home if we wasn’t at the store. Granted, breaking and entering—or, would it just be “entering” if he didn’t damage the lock while picking it? Irrelevant. Focus on the lock, Eddie—and then ambushing Steve in his home might make whatever was wrong between them worse, but he had to know what he’d done. Surely, if they could just talk, he could try to fix things.

As soon as Eddie slipped inside, he could hear a series of staccato chords coming from the living room where the Harrington’s kept their baby grand. He knew that Steve could play. He’d apparently been forced to take lessons as a kid, but Steve always claimed that it had been so long since he practiced that he probably couldn’t anymore. This song was simple enough though that Eddie immediately dismissed the thought that maybe Steve actually had guests. The sound of Steve’s voice as he began to sing, “One is the loneliest number…,” as well as the sight of him sitting hunched at the keys with a small collection of empty beer cans growing on a nearby end table, confirmed it.

Steve’s back was to the doorway, so Eddie stood and listened as he made his way through possibly the saddest rendition of the Three Dog Night song he’d ever heard.

Of course.

Steve must have started seeing someone and it ended before he even had a chance to bring it up.

That hurt. Eddie thought Steve felt close enough to tell him these things, but he could suck up his own feelings and be there to support his friend. He just wished he could understand why Steve would have kept it a secret. More importantly, why would he isolate himself further after the split?

“Hey, big boy. Would two really be as bad as one if they come bearing—” Eddie trailed off as he realized that he had’d brought nothing with him “—a sparkling personality and wit?”

A discordant bang emanated from the piano as Steve, startled, turned and hit the keyboard with an elbow.

“Shit! Goddammit!” Steve had curled in on himself in pain while Eddie rushed over.

“Whoa, hey, I’m sorry! What can I do?”

Steve sat up with a wince and waved him back. “I’m fine. Just hit my funny bone.”

Eddie started to open his mouth—likely to make a dumb joke—but Steve’s surprisingly sober glare stopped him. “What are you doing here?”

That’s right. How could he have forgotten?

Eddie took a deep breath as he considered how to start. “I’ve missed you.” Did his throat always sound so loud when he swallowed? Would Steve notice if he wiped his hands on his pants? Just put them in your pockets, dumbass. “I wanted to know why you were, I don’t know, ignoring me?” Eddie’s speech increased in speed and pitch. “But, I get it, you just needed time to recover after a break up, and hey, I don’t have as much experience, so you probably just didn’t want to unload on me, but seriously, you can tell me anything, anything at all. I’ll always be here for you, man. Need someone to commiserate, call someone names, or just a shoulder to cry on? I have it on good authority that my shoulders are ‘bitchin’.”

“Your shoulders are average at best and you wear multiple layers to make them look bigger.” There was the slightly bitchy Steve that Eddie knew. At least he no longer looked about two seconds away from bawling. “You really should consider buying jackets with shoulder pads if you really want to accentuate them. It is in style now.”

“Asshole.” Eddie slid onto the bench next to Steve, making room by knocking him to the side with the aforementioned average shoulders.

As though the proximity broke the illusion of normalcy, their smiles fell as they gazed at each other. This close, Eddie could see dozens of microexpressions cross Steve’s face before it settled on something that looked like resignation.

“I’m not upset because someone broke up with me. I’m—” Steve paused to lower the cover of the keys. “I did figure out that I had feelings for someone, but I know they’re seeing someone else, so I’m wallowing. That OK with you?” The last part was defiant.

“Yeah.” Eddie’s voice cracked. “Still here for you though.”

Steve scoffed, “Not the way I wish you were.”

The world shifted. Planes of existence realigned.

“Gina’s my new band’s drummer. She’s not my girlfriend,” Eddie rushed out, daring to hope.

“Wait… really?”

“‘I’ll tell ya that I love you if it makes everything alright’.”

Of Steve, Eddie would never get enough.

[steddie-week]

I just saw the wrap up post. First, thanks for making the event. I loved seeing all the works inspired by your prompts!

I did want to check if my day 1 post was missed though. It did get reblogged by the other microfic events that I think it qualified for, so it's OK if that dq's it from this one, but if it was simply overlooked would you still be able to reblog it? Here's a link:

(Also, let me know if that link doesn't work. The Tumblr draft window is showing some weird errors when I paste it in. If I can't send links this way, the fic is One Is the Lonliest Number and it's on my writing masterlist page if you go to soaringornithopter.tumblr.com)

Thanks!

thank you so much! we’re so glad that you had a good time; it’s not lost on us just how lucky we are to have such an active, creative, talented fandom! 🥰

it does look like your day one post was missed. we had that issue back on day one where we weren’t receiving mentions due to an error on tumblr’s end, so it’s possible it just slipped through the cracks while we were getting that fixed! crossposting is definitely allowed, so we’ll go reblog that now.

if anyone else notices that their day one entries (or any others) were missed, please let us know!

[rogue-alien]

Day 7: free space

@steddie-week

[matchingbatbites]

i thee wed

Teen | 2.9k | Female Steve Harrington

A very late submission for @steddie-week Day 5: Reunion/Getting back together, as well as @stevieweek Day 4: Special Outfit.

This fic is too short to be as late as it is, but alas. It was originally supposed to be just runaway bride Stevie showing up to Eddie's home in a huge wedding gown, but somehow Carol wheedled her way into the story, so.

Read on Ao3

Stevie’s mom is doing up the last of the buttons on her dress, each one tiny and pearlescent and perfect against the white lace fabric, when Robin walks up, clearly worried about something.

“Carol's here, and she's asking to talk to you,” she says quietly before Stevie can even ask what's wrong, and oh. She's been expecting this for a while - ever since Tommy proposed, really - but she didn't think Carol would wait until the day of the wedding to actually seek her out. “What do you want me to tell her?”

Stevie hums and thinks for a moment as they smooth out the skirt, as she steps into her heels which are as white and pristine as the rest of her outfit. “I'll talk to her. She deserves that much.”

Robin continues to frown but nods. “She’s in the back hall. I'll keep an eye on everyone here, but scream if you need anything.”

“I will. Thanks, Birdie.”

It's not hard to find Carol, leaning against one of the back walls in an outfit that's too casual to be appropriate for a wedding guest. Stevie still smiles as she approaches, and receives a small one in return. 

“Hi, Carol.”

“Hi, Steph. You look beautiful.”

Stevie huffs and fluffs the a-line skirt again. “Thanks. I'm kind of dying a little, if I'm being honest. I didn't realize how hot this thing would be.”

That earns her a chuckle, and Stevie feels a bit lighter- feels like this might be okay as she asks “So what can I do for you?”

Carol's expression drops, her entire being taking on an air of sadness that almost leaves Stevie breathless. She and Carol haven't really spoken in years, but it's still upsetting to see her so down.

“I'm here because- We were friends once, and I miss that. I miss you.”

Stevie can't stop herself from muttering an “I miss you too,” and Carol pushes herself off the wall. She takes Stevie’s hand in her own and starts to lead them down the hall, slow and meandering.

“You know, after everything went down, I thought I hated you. It felt like I'd been betrayed by two people I thought cared about me, two people I thought I could trust."

That hurts, even though Stevie knows it's true. Tommy and Carol had been together for years before- before. When they broke up it had been a big deal in their social circle. Stevie had honestly never planned on dating Tommy, but then the letter came, and Tommy asked her out, and- and she'd been so lonely.

"It took me a long time to realize that I had nothing against you at all; it was that Tommy dropped me the second he saw a chance to be with you. Just left me like our relationship meant absolutely nothing to him. After that it was pretty easy to come to terms with the fact that I was just a placeholder for Tommy while he waited for you."

She pauses and Stevie glances up to find Carol's sharp gaze locked on her, calculating but not quite cold. "Just like you're using him as a placeholder right now.”

“Tommy's not a placeholder-”

“Eddie's out of jail.”

Stevie freezes on the spot. Carol might as well have stabbed her with the pain that shoots through her chest, the ache that had dimmed in the last four years coming back with a fucking vengeance.

“What?”

“I ran into him last week. He got out a couple months ago. Tried to get in contact with you a few times.”

Steve swallows around nothing and reaches up to grab her necklace, something that only intensifies her pain as her brain screams that it's the wrong shape, that it's not right. 

“I don't know why. He already said everything he had to say to me, right in black and white.”

Carol tugs on her hand, guiding her down the hall once more. “See, I asked him about the letter, and he had no idea what I was talking about. He told me that he sent you dozens of letters, but none of them talked about him being done with you.”

Dozens? Stevie only ever got one letter from Eddie, a single page that ripped her heart to shreds, that crushed every dream she’d had about their life together. “What else did he say?” she can't help but ask, and Carol looks uncharacteristically disturbed.

“He said that Tommy and your parents have been working to keep him away from you. Steph, he said that your dad threatened him. Said that if Eddie did anything to ‘get in the way of your happiness’ that he'd make sure Eddie went back to prison and never came out again.”

Stevie stares at Carol, searching for any hint, any possibility that the woman is lying to her. Even after years apart, she can tell that Carol is telling the truth.

“Why are you telling me this?”

Carol's smile is a small, sad thing. “Like I said: we were friends, once. I want you to be happy, but more than that, you deserve to know the truth. Tommy being fucked over is just a bonus.”

She gestures to the side and Stevie looks over, out the glass door she hadn't noticed before, and sees a taxi waiting on the curb.

“That's the cab that brought me here. It's ready to take you anywhere you want to go.”

Stevie's heart lurches. She's supposed to be getting married in twenty minutes. Supposed to wear this dress she can't stand and walk down the aisle of a church she didn't choose and go to a reception that's going to be full of her parents' friends so they can show off their daughter's accomplishment.

If she was marrying the man she truly wanted, she might have been able to shove down her frustrations and just deal with it, but Tommy just isn't that man. She knows it in her heart, and when she looks at Carol, Stevie can tell that she knows it too.

And suddenly, none of it matters.

“They're gonna come looking for me.”

Carol smiles. “I'll tell them you stepped out for some air.”

Stevie is overcome by a sudden rush of affection, and she can't resist pulling her old friend into a hug. “I owe you one,” she says, and feels Carol shake her head.

“Consider it my apology for being such a bitch to you after Tommy dumped me.”

“Apology more than accepted.”

They pull apart and Stevie gives her one last smile before heading for the door.

She doesn't really remember the ride to the trailer park; it's all a blur up until the taxi slows to a stop in front of a place that Stevie used to think of as home. She thanks the driver who told her that Carol prepaid for her ride, and then climbs out.

Wayne's truck is out front, so at the very least she'll be able to apologize for not visiting anymore. She knows the man was hurting just as bad as she was when Eddie was put away, but after the letter, she hadn't even been able to look him in the face.

She knocks on the door and shifts in her heels as she waits. What if she’s too late to make things right? What if Carol really was lying and it was all just a means to get her away from the wedding, to ruin her life?

There's barely any time for her thoughts to spiral before the door swings open and she's suddenly face to face with Wayne, the man that she considered to be a better father to her than her own. He certainly seems surprised to see her, but before she can even begin to explain, he turns and calls out “Ed! You got a visitor!” 

Stevie reaches for the older man and tries an “I'm so sorry-” but he shakes his head and takes her hand in his own work-worn ones. 

“There'll be time for that later. I'll give you two some space for now.” He gives her hand a gentle pat before releasing it, grabs his truck keys, and heads out the door and down the steps.

Stevie hears a door open further in the trailer and steps inside just in time to see Eddie stepping into the hall, his sweatpants and tank top an extreme contrast to her lacy, fluffy wedding gown.

She's surprised to see that he's filled out a little, the lankiness he used to have now replaced with a sturdier, stronger frame, and his hair is the shortest she's ever seen it - a bit longer than buzzed now that he's been home for a little while. His eyes are the only thing that haven't changed, still the same deep pools of chocolate she remembers, although they're currently wide in surprise as he registers just who is before him.

“Stevie?”

Stevie gives a single broken “Eddie,” and then they're both moving. They meet in the middle of the tiny kitchen and cling to each other, hands and arms clutching tight like they're both worried the other will disappear if they let go. Stevie can hardly breathe through her sobs, can barely even take a breath with how her face is pressed into the skin of Eddie's neck. 

The man isn't much better- she can feel the way his fingers dig into the fabric of her dress, trying to haul her closer, like the millimeters of clothing between them is still too much distance. Stevie thinks her legs must give out because they sink to the floor, her skirt pooling around them as Eddie just holds her and mutters reassurances- “I've got you baby, I'm here. Never gonna let you go again, princess.”

She doesn't know how long it takes her to stop crying. It’s only when she can actually breathe again that she pulls back enough to cup Eddie's face, to run a hand over his short curls. “Your hair,” she says, smiling through the few tears that still escape her. The man gives her a watery smile and brushes a stray lock of hair away from her face.

“I can’t believe you’re talking about me while you’re over here looking like a Bridal Barbie or something.”

That makes her laugh, and she confesses “You don’t know how much I hate this dress. It’s so awful, Teddy.”

“Let me guess, your mom vetoed the slinky, sexy dress?”

“I thought she was going to have a heart attack right there at the bridal store when I walked out wearing it.”

Eddie shakes his head and rubs his thumb over her cheek. "That's too bad. I bet you looked like a fuckin' dream, sweetheart. Honestly, you still look like a dream, even in this cake topper gown."

Stevie laughs again, and it hits her all at once how much she still loves this man, how undeniably happy he makes her. In the last four years, no one has made her feel the way Eddie did, has even looked at her the way the way he is right now. Tommy only ever looked at her with desire, like a prize to be claimed and flaunted, and her parents never really looked at her at all unless she was doing something to make them look good.

Eddie though. He's always looked at her with wonder, like he can't even believe that he's allowed to be around her, much less have her for his own. She grabs his hands, holds them tight between them.

"I left Tommy at the altar," she says and Eddie's eyes go wide in shock.

"Oh, shit. What, uh. What made you change your mind?"

"Carol came to see me. Told me what you said about him and my parents, about the letter." She pauses and takes a deep breath as tears well up in her eyes again. "Eddie, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have trusted it blindly, I should have believed in you. I promise I was gonna wait for you, and if I'm too late-"

Eddie frowns and rubs a thumb over her knuckles "I told you a long time ago, sweetheart, I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me to. Honestly, when I found out you were engaged to Tommy, I thought that I was too late. Thought I'd fucked up too bad and you finally realized you could do better."

Stevie can't help but scoff at that. "Tommy is not better than you. He just- he was there, and he wanted me, and I- I didn't want to be alone anymore. I wanted someone to love me."

A soft, broken noise escapes Eddie and he tugs her into another hug. She goes willingly, clings to him as he shifts and pulls her into his lap.

"You won't be, baby. Now that I've got you, you won't ever be lonely again, not if I can help it."

"So you still love me?" Stevie asks, her voice wavering on the question that's been plaguing her for years, the question that she needs to know the answer to.

"Oh, sweetheart, of course I still love you. You're the girl of my fuckin' dreams, you know? I think I'm always gonna love you."

He loves her.

Eddie still loves her, and it's like something at the center of her being settles into place.

She pulls back just enough to kiss him, deep and desperate and everything she's wanted in the years that he's been gone. She pours every ounce of her feelings into it, her desire, her regret, and she feels like crying all over again as he returns it tenfold.

It feels like coming home, like she can finally relax because she knows Eddie has her, will always have her. He won't brush her off the way Tommy does, won't disregard her opinions or criticize her clothes or-

God, Tommy really was a piece of shit, wasn't he?

Stevie breaks the kiss but doesn't move, lets her lips brush against Eddie's as she says “Do me a favor, baby?”

“Anything, sweetheart.”

“Take me to the courthouse. Make me your wife, please."

Eddie frowns and moves back enough so he can look her in the eye. "Stevie, maybe we should take some time to think about this. I mean- I'm not the same guy you knew when I went away-"

"And I'm not the same girl. Hell, neither of us are those dumbass high schoolers that fell in love over a fucking history project. We've both grown, both changed. But Eddie, our years together were the happiest of my life, and I've gone through all of this wedding planning bullshit wishing I was marrying you instead."

Stevie moves a hand to the back of Eddie's neck and tugs until their foreheads are pressed together, and she can stare into endless pools of Eddie's eyes. "I wanna be your wife, Eddie. We can figure out everything else after.”

Eddie lets out a shuddering breath and nods, mutters a soft "Yeah, okay. I mean, can't say I haven't literally dreamed about it."

"Well, I think we should make some dreams come true, yeah?" She presses a quick kiss to his mouth, not letting it linger before she says "You gotta change though. As hot as you look right now, we can't get married while you're in sweatpants."

They're stopped outside the church by a red light on the way to the courthouse.

Stevie can't help but grin at the sight of people scattering from the building as Tommy stands on the front steps, his face tomato red as he throws what seems to be the mother of all tantrums. Stevie's father is yelling back at him, and her mother is off to the side looking absolutely distressed as Tommy's parents try to calm the two men down.

The van is in the far right lane, giving Stevie a perfect view of the chaos, and a thought crosses her mind. She rolls down the window and shifts until her torso is nearly hanging out of it, and she brings a hand up to her mouth. The whistle is loud enough to cut through the noise, and Tommy and her parents all turn to see her.

He barely gets out a "Steph?" before she chucks the ring he proposed with in his direction. It hits the sidewalk and bounces a couple of times, and she can see when the realization of what it is hits Tommy.

"What the fuck-" he starts, but doesn't finish. Stevie yells a "Fuck you, Hagan!" and flips him off as the light changes and Eddie starts to pull away. She lurches a bit as the van moves and she feels a steadying hand settle on her waist as Eddie cackles behind her.

Stevie settles back in her seat and rolls the window up, and looks over to see Eddie beaming like he just won the lottery. "I fuckin' love you, Stephanie Harrington," he says, and she smiles as their hands lace together.

"I love you too," she replies, wanting nothing more than to cross over the center console and plant herself in Eddie's lap. "And that'll be Stephanie Munson soon, if you can hurry the fuck up."

Eddie laughs again at that and brings their hands up so he can press a kiss to the heirloom ring he'd given her earlier. "Hang on, baby."

Stevie grins as she clings to him, and as the van speeds toward the center of town, she knows she'll hang on to him as long as she possibly can.

Divider Credit

[tedewitt]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Steddie Week Day 7! @steddie-week

I did it. Finally. 15,000 words later, I've completed my second Steddie Week. I hope you guys enjoyed it!

[lingeringmirth]

Written horribly late for @steddie-week day 4. body swap. I'm so peeved that work swamped me and I couldn't finish the week when it was on-going, but better late than never?

Rated: M | Words: 600 | tags: body swap, pre-steddie, banter, post- S4

Also on AO3!

”Fucking hell!” Eddie stared into the mirror, Steve Harrington’s dumb-struck reflection looking back at him.

He’d fallen asleep in his own bed, but it wasn’t where he woke up. No. He woke up in Steve Harrington’s horrible plaid bedroom in the Harrington house, confused and a little bit scared… and apparently having swapped minds with Steve.

If he hadn’t lived through the horror of the spring break from hell he would have been panicking a hell of a lot more, which didn’t mean he wasn’t panicking quite a bit right now. But… when taken in the context of horrible and great things actually existing, a little bit of body swap wasn’t the worst thing. Maybe?

Still, what the actual fuck?

Despite his shock, or maybe emboldened by it, he really wanted to take a peek under the boxers Steve had worn to bed. Sue him, he was but a man and Steve Harrington was a specimen. His eyes caught on the scars over Steve’s sides, which he had seen before, and travelled up to focus on his glorious hairy chest, where some scars also shone through the thicket.

Of course.

Some of the scars matched Eddie’s own, althoughhe’d been injured worse and had been in the hospital for a month and in PT for six times that long. Point was, the bites must have connected the them somehow, strange as it was. He had been having an X-rated dream about Steve last night, too.

The shrill ringing of the phone interrupted him just as he was sliding his fingers under the waistband of Steve’s plaid boxers, as if the walls weren’t enough.

”Eddie?”

Having his own name frantically said to him in his own voice was a bit dizzying, more surreal than seeing someone else’s face looking back at him from a mirror.

A choked noise came from the other end of the line, like someone had swallowed a lemon.

”Hell! What is this?”

”What’s what?” Eddie had to be a little bit teasing, maybe even petty, as he regretfully drew his hand away, lamenting that he wouldn’t, at least for the moment, get to see, or feel, what Steve Harrington had in his boxers.

”Munson! You know what! I woke up in your bed, in your body, and not like I’d ---”

Oh-ho. Interesting. The grin felt a bit different on Steve’s face, but Eddie knew he was grinning wide enough to split his face. Had Steve been dreaming about him, too?

”Not like…” he wheedled, voice sing-songy.

There was a groan. ”Fuck it. Not like I’d imaged being inside your body.”

Eddie short-circuited despite having been pretty sure what Steve would say. But imagining it wasn’t quite the same as hearing it.

”You’re gay?!”

That could have come out a bit better.

”Bisexual.” He could just see the smirk he heard in his own voice, which was weird as fuck.

”I’m gay,” he blurted, brain still scrambling to catch up with the situation, all his inhibitions, scarce as they were, fleeing the scene.

A huff. ”I know. You’re not subtle.”

”Wanna try seeing if fucking will fix this?”

What was his mouth even saying at this point? Bad brain, bad!

”Fuck yes.” Was that a whimper? Eddie hadn’t known he sounded like that. ”I’ll be right over.”

Eddie was left with the dial tone and a raging hard-on in the horrible plaid boxers, letting himself have permission to peek. Steve was coming over with the intention to fuck him, just couldn’t get too carried away with it.  

Maybe a body swap wasn’t that bad, after all?

[steddie-island]

Risky Business

Written for @steddie-week day 2 | Prompt: Hands Rating: M | WC: 2,027 | Tags: Pre-Steddie, season 2, shotgunning, dry humping, coming in pants, cheating (if you squint) Find full list of tags on ao3 | Divider credit

“Watch it, Harrington!”

Steve didn't even turn around to see who was yelling at him. He needed to get the fuck out of there.

Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit.

The words reverberated in his head, echoed in the empty hollow of his chest where his heart used to be.

"Like we're in love?"

It was too fucking much. There were monsters, and Barb was dead, and Nancy wasn't in love with him, and—

“Harrington!”

“What!” Steve spun around and came face to face with one Eddie Munson. He definitely didn't need this shit right now, either, whatever Eddie was trying to do.

“Jesus, who pissed in your cheerios?” Eddie held his hand out, where Steve's keyring dangled from one finger. “I was giving these back, but if that's how it's gonna be.”

Steve swiped for them, but Eddie already had them folded back into the palm of his hand and was walking towards the house again.

“Just— hand them over.” Steve tried to make another grab for them, but Eddie was too fast, the shithead. “Munson, I'm in a really bad goddamn mood, okay?”

Eddie lifted his free hand to his head, rubbed at the back of his neck. “How much have you had to drink?”

Steve blinked at him. “I'm fine to drive.”

“That's not an answer, big boy, and I'm afraid it would be against the Munson code to let you do something stupid like that.” Steve swiped for his keys again, but then Eddie was turning, rearing his arm back— and Steve watched as his keys went flying.

“What the fuck !” Steve wanted to shove him, wanted to wipe the stupid smile right off of his stupid fucking face.

“I'll help you find them later,” Eddie said. “C'mon, man. You're clearly not in any shape to drive. Let me take you home.”

Steve wanted to say no. He wanted to kick and scream and argue but how the fuck else was he supposed to get home now? Just the thought of sticking around long enough to see Jonathan pour Nancy into his car made his stomach twist.

He could walk, but he was so tired . It washed over him all at once, and Steve's entire body sort of slumped. “Fine. You're paying if we don't find them, though.”

Eddie looked surprised, like he hadn't expected Steve to give in so fast. Still he bowed, gestured ahead of them. “Right this way, sir.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Steve shook his head, bringing his cheek to rest against the window. “Not really.”

”Okay.” Eddie reached over and turned the radio on. The music was heavier than what Steve usually listened to, but that actually helped get him out of his head. There was going to be a breakdown, and a big one, but he needed it to not happen here, in Eddie Munson's van.

Eddie fidgeted. Steve could tell he wanted to talk, to say somthing, anything , to get rid of the silence between them.

“Does... Wheeler have a way to get home?”

Steve wished Eddie would've kept his big mouth shut.

“She's fine,” he said flatly. Emotionless. He couldn't think about Nancy, about bullshit, bullshit, bullshit .

“Shit— hey, I'm sorry, man.” Eddie was really fidgeting now, and— fuck.

Steve wiped away traitorous tears and cleared the lump out of his throat. “I'm fine,” he said, snappier than he meant to. It wasn't Eddie's fault he was losing his cool.

“Clearly. Totally fine,” Eddie said, nodding. He seemed to think about it, fingers drumming against his steering wheel again— did he ever sit still? Then they were turning away from Steve's house, towards the edge of town.

“C'mon, man, I'm fine, just—”

“Trust me,” Eddie said. His eyes flicked over to Steve again. “This is better than going home.“

Steve had been to Lover's Lake before, but never in the back of Eddie Munson's van. They'd parked, and Eddie had lit up a preroll. Whatever was in it, Steve wasn't feeling any pain anymore.

They were floating together, weightless in the back of the van on the pile of blankets Eddie had spread out for them. Steve's hair hung away from his face as he watched the way the night sky reflected in the water.

There were no dead girls here, no alternate universes with monsters ready to rip them to shreds.

There wasn't a bat driven through with nails that looked rusty with old monster blood rotting away in his trunk.

There were just stars, and the music pouring softly through the speakers now. And Eddie, warm and sturdy by his side, with their pinkies barely touching.

"Fuckin' love this song," Eddie said. Steve didn't recognize it, though the thrum of the guitar made his already fuzzy brain vibrate pleasantly.

"Think you've said that about every song we've listened to," Steve murmured. His tongue was heavy and thick in his mouth. He reached for the joint, giggled when his fingers didn't want to work and he nearly dropped it.

"Lemme help you." Eddie rolled over, pressed the butt of if it to Steve's lips. His fingers were dry and warm. Steve's eyes nearly crossed as he tried to watch those fingertips. He was so distracted he almost forgot to actually inhale.

"Never woulda taken King Steve for a lightweight," Eddie teased. His voice was giggly, too, as he leaned back, brought the joint to his own mouth and took a long pull.

Steve couldn't stop watching his fingers, the glint of the light on his rings as he lifted a hand to tuck his hair behind his ear.

"You still with me?" Eddie asked. He lightly bumped his foot against Steve's and gave him a teasing smile.

"Yeah, 'm with you," Steve said. He reached up to touch one of Eddie's rings without really thinking about it. "You have nice hands." His fingers were long, slender. Musician's hands, complete with callouses that Steve had the odd desire to get his lips on.

Maybe the bitten nails weren't a musician thing, just an Eddie thing, but that didn't change the fact that Steve kind of wanted to kiss those fingertips.

"Yeah? You like, big boy?" Normally Eddie wouldn't have risked flirting with the straight jock high off his ass in the back of the van but Harrington didn't feel like a threat. He waved his hand lazily and watched Steve's gaze follow along like there was a slight delay between what Eddie was doing and Steve brain processing it.

"Yeah." Steve reached up to catch Eddie's wrist, to stop him from moving his hand around. "I do." He trailed his fingertips over Eddie's palm then outlined one finger at a time.

If anyone had told Eddie that morning that he would end the day holding hands with a stoned Steve Harrington at Lover's Lake he would've laughed in their face and asked if they needed a ride to the hospital. Here he was, though, with the ex king threading their fingers together, pressing palm flush against palm.

A shaky breath slipped out of Steve's chest. He pulled their hands closer so he could run his fingers over Eddie's rings, then up along his knuckles.

Eddie watched Steve with heavy lidded eyes. They were just holding hands— at least, he thought this weird thing Steve was doing where he followed the lines where their hands touched counted as holding hands— but there was something about it that felt intimate.

Maybe it was the way Steve's lips were parted, and the peek of pink as his tongue wet his lower lip. Maybe it was the way Steve was eyeing their clasped hands like he wanted to fucking bite them.

Or like he was holding Eddie's hand to keep from doing just that.

"Harrington." Eddie nudged Steve with his foot again. "Sure you're with me?"

Those warm eyes met Eddie's again. Steve didn't answer, he just watched Eddie's face in a way that made the other boy feel cut open and exposed. It was a feeling Eddie didn't get often, a feeling he really didn't know how to be comfortable with.

So Eddie did the first thing that came to mind that wasn't just staring right back. He took a hit off of the joint, never taking his eyes off of Steve's. He didn't let the smoke out and instead leaned in to almost press their lips together, and once Steve opened his mouth, he let the smoke pass between them.

Steve made an injured sound. Before Eddie could pull back to check on him a hand was in his hair, and then they were kissing. It was desperate, tongues and teeth meeting and clashing.

"Eddie," Steve panted before tipping his head back so Eddie's mouth could be on his throat instead.

Eddie wanted to mark him. He wanted to bite and suck and leave traces of himself all over this ridiculous jock. He had just enough mind left to not let himself do that, and instead he dragged his tongue over Steve's pulsepoint before giving his earlobe a gentle tug.

"Oh fuck —" Steve pulled him in, licked into Eddie's mouth again and ground against the thigh now settled between his own legs.

There was an urgency in the way Steve's hips moved, in the way he kissed at Eddie's neck before biting down, unafraid to mark the way Eddie had been.

Eddie cursed and rocked down, meeting those hungry little movements. They were going to come together, ruin their clothes together. He should stop it, should remind Steve that he was drunk and there was maybe a girlfriend waiting for him when the sun came up.

Then Steve tugged down the collar of his shirt and those perfect fucking teeth were digging into his collar bone. Eddie cried out at the flash of pain and pleasure as he spilled into his boxers.

Steve anchored a hand into Eddie's hair and pulled him in to kiss him again. His movements picked up, became something more firm against Eddie's thigh.

Eddie was going to remember the sound Steve made as he was coming for the rest of his life.

They settled together on their nest of blankets, with the come drying into the fabric of their clothes and in their pubic hair. Eddie barely dared to breathe, in case Steve decided to kick his ass once he'd come back to himself more. Steve didn't do that, though. Instead he took Eddie's wrist and brought his hand to his mouth, to kiss the underside of each of his three chunky rings before resting Eddie's hand on his chest.

"I should get home."

They cleaned up as much as they could with the napkins fished out of the glovebox. The blankets were left in a pile in the back to be dealt with later.

Steve seemed more calm on the drive back to the Harrington house. Some of the edge Eddie had noticed when they'd first ran into each other seemed to have been smoothed out, whether by the weed or the orgasm or a mix of the two he wasn't sure.

Only once they were parked did Steve remember— "Fuck." He looked up at his house, with all the dark windows staring down at him. "I don't have my keys."

"Actually…" Eddie reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and came up holding Steve's keys.

"You sneaky bastard." Steve took the keys and turned them over as if inspecting that they really were his.

"I really didn't feel like sneaking around Tina's house and having her call the cops on me. Just had to make you think I'd thrown them."

Steve watched Eddie's face in the dashboard light. Tomorrow he would have to talk to Nancy, he knew. It was going to hurt— already his chest ached with what they had to do, what he'd been refusing to accept had been coming for a while now.

But maybe it didn't have to hurt forever. Maybe he didn't have to hurt forever.

"Good night, sneaky bastard." Steve reached over and squeezed Eddie's knee before slipping out of the van.

"Night, Steve," Eddie said. He sat there watching until Steve was safely inside.

[steddie-island]

Cuffing Season

Written for @steddie-week day 3, prompt 'long', and written for @stevieweek prompt 'sapphic' Rating: E | WC: 1,424 | Tags: Sapphic Steddie, handcuffs, squirting, PWP See ao3 for full list of tags | Divider credit

Eddie fucking hated Stevie Harrington. Hated her from the soles of her expensive running shoes to the top of that head of chestnut hair. Eddie couldn't fucking stand her.

She hated herself even more for falling into bed with Stevie again and again, for letting those perfectly manicured hands grab onto her wrists and her waist. Hated that she loved the way those hands felt against her bare skin.

"That all you got, Munson?"

Eddie hated the way Stevie worked the two fingers inside of her pussy like she had a map of Eddie's body telling her where and how to touch to make her feel good.

To make her beg .

"Jesus Christ—" Eddie gasped as Stevie's head lowered back down, as the other girl dragged her tongue from her opening up to her clit. There was a hint of teeth that had Eddie's back bowing up off of the mattress.

"One more, and then I'll fuck you." Stevie crooked her fingers again before speeding up the movement of her hand. That smart mouth was on her clit again and Eddie practically wailed.

"Stevie— oh my fucking god don't stop—" Her fingers flexed like she wanted to tangle her hands in Stevie's hair, to mess her up the same way she'd been messed up already, but the bitch had found the cuffs and had her hands attached to the headboard.

Stevie groaned, adding to the wet sound of her fingers fucking into Eddie's pussy again and again.

Eddie's thighs trembled on either side of Stevie's head. Her mouth dropped open, and with another flick of that skilled tongue and another stroke over her g-spot she was coming with a rush of liquid. " Fuck— fuck— "

When Stevie lifted her head her chin was wet. She slipped her fingers out of Eddie's body. For a moment it looked like she was going to pull her fingers into her own mouth, but at the last second she decided to reach up, to press them against Eddie's lower lip instead.

Eddie parted her lips and took them in easily, tasting the brininess of herself. She didn't let them go until her tongue had ran over the edge of Stevie's nails, over her knuckles, between her fingers, until she could only taste Stevie's skin again.

Stevie pulled her fingers back only to catch Eddie's lips in a hard kiss. It was all teeth and tongue, meant to bruise as much as to soothe.

It didn't last long. Stevie was off of the bed and digging into her duffel. She stripped out of her stupid skimpy shorts. They pooled around her feet along with her panties, which were joined by the sports bra she hadn't taken off yet.

For a long few moments Eddie could only watch as Stevie got the harness ready. She slipped it on over muscular thighs, had to adjust and thread the cock on the inside of the harness into her own body before she could tighten the straps the rest of the way. Eddie wanted to sink her teeth into the soft flesh where the straps dug in around her hips and her thighs both.

"Enjoying the show?" Stevie teased. The other cock bobbed in front of her as she came back to the bed and climbed between Eddie's thighs.

"Shut up," Eddie said even as she parted her legs to make room for Stevie again. "You know you're fucking hot."

"Yeah, but I like that you think so, too."

Eddie ignored the flush of warmth that sent through her chest. This was just sex. It couldn't be more than that. Girls like Stevie didn't get with girls like her for more than just sex. She pushed the thought down and focused instead on the golden goddess pushing her knees up towards her chest.

Stevie pressed the cock against Eddie's pussy but didn't slide inside yet. She just let it rest lightly between Eddie's folds as she rolled her hips.

Eddie writhed as it bumped over her clit before the tip was just barely pressed inside. "Thought you were going to fuck me."

"And you accuse me of being an impatient brat."

"You are! Always running your mo— fuck !"

Stevie drove into her with one fluid motion. She braced her hands on the bed, her arms holding Eddie's legs.

There was nothing gentle about it. Stevie fucked into Eddie hard and fast, which in turn worked the cock inside of her own body.

Back and forth they moved together— at least, as much as Eddie could with her hands still locked to the headboard and Stevie pinning her legs. Every deep thrust had them crying out. They shared breaths, drank down each other's moans. Eddie's teeth caught Stevie's lower lip, Stevie's nails scraped over Eddie's ass.

"Fuck— fuck— right there!" Eddie urged. She tugged at the handcuffs not to get away but because she needed to do something, to grab on to something if she couldn't grab on to Stevie's hair or her back.

"Yeah? Gonna come for me?" Stevie panted. "Gonna come on my cock?"

" Fuck— " Eddie stared up at Stevie's flushed face, her spit slick lips, those big brown eyes. She wanted to bite into the moles just under Stevie's jaw, too. "Almost—"

Stevie moved one hand, letting Eddie's leg fall to the bed. She worked Eddie's clit hard and fast as she kept driving in deep. "C'mon. Do it, Eddie. Come all over me again."

Eddie clenched down hard around the cock and came with a choked moan. If not for the way Stevie held on to her, keeping their bodies together, she was sure the cock would've been pushed out of her body as she came with another rush of fluid.

Stevie barely waited for her to stop twitching before she was moving again. Her thrusts weren't as deep, and it was clear she was trying to grind down on her own cock.

Her forehead came to rest against Eddie's shoulder as she worked her hips with movements that sped up and became more desperate. Eddie tried to kiss her, tried to rock up towards her, tried to listen as Stevie's sounds became breathier.

Eddie loved those sounds, loved the way Stevie's cheeks turned pink and her lashes painted shadows against her cheeks.

She loved the way Stevie bit down on her collar bone again, leaving more evidence of herself pressed into Eddie's skin as she finally came, too.

As soon as she was steady enough Stevie sat up to uncuff Eddie. She dropped the cuffs on the nightstand, then brought one and then the other of Eddie's wrists to her mouth to kiss over the pink marks left behind.

"Are you okay?"

Eddie snorted and rolled her eyes, ignored the way her traitor heart flipped in her chest. "I'm fine, Harrington."

"Harrington now, is it?" Stevie grinned as she rolled over to lay beside Eddie on the bed, out of the wet spot they had made.

Eddie didn't even try to hide the fact that she was ogling Stevie's tits until she went still again.

"It's always Harrington." Eddie shrugged one shoulder.

"Not true. It's 'Stevie' when I'm fucking you. Sometimes you just call me 'more' when I've got my tongue on your—"

"That is not a nickname!" Eddie laughed. "And it is not always!"

"Almost always!" Stevie cracked up and dodged another shove before Eddie straddled her legs.

"Sometimes I call you 'good girl." Eddie watched the way Stevie flushed all the way down her neck, between her breasts. "When you're the one tied down. I think I've heard you call me 'baby'…"

"Shut up, Munson," Stevie said. There was no heat behind her words. Her eyes were fixed on Eddie's lips as she leaned in to sink down around the dildo still proudly standing at attention between Stevie's thighs.

Those perfectly manicured hands threaded into Eddie's hair. Eddie melted into the fingernails scratching over her scalp and running down to rest against the back of her neck. Stevie just held on to her, not pulling and not pushing, just touching her to touch while Eddie took her time cleaning the toy off with her tongue.

The truth was, Eddie knew that maybe she should hate Steve Harrington just on principle.

But she didn't.

As her body sank down around Stevie's cock, and as Stevie pulled her in for a deep kiss, Eddie let herself think about the fact that something that might have started out as hate fucking had become something else for her a long time ago.

[rogue-alien]

Day 6: drunken confessions

@steddie-week

[wynnyfryd]

let’s get experimental, baby

1.9k | E | gratuitous f/f steddie smut | ao3

(written for @steddie-week and cross-posting here for @mrsjellymunson pspsps)

“Are you insane? I can’t just—!” “Yes, you can!” Robin runs her hand down her face, tugging at the skin, clearly done with the conversation. “For the last time, she literally winked and gave me her number and said, and I quote, ‘pass that along to your little lost sheepie.’” “Oh, gross.” “I know. This whole thing is gross for me, honestly, so just— ugh. Just shut up and call her. God, I’m such a good friend.”

“Just shut up and call her,” Stevie mocks under her breath, goosebumps pebbling her skin as she wraps her arms around herself and waits for someone to answer the door. The tank top and running shorts made sense when she left the dorm earlier to play frisbee, but now, with the stars peeking out behind thick clouds and a humid breeze rolling in, she feels a little exposed. Underdressed. Inappropriate, the echo of her mom’s voice chastises in her head. Just a sunburned, silly straight girl, shivering on a stranger’s doorstep with her tits spilling out of her sports bra. Oh, god, she should uncross her arms. She should leave, actually, because this whole thing is stupid, and she’s—

“Hey, there.” 

Eddie swings the door wide open, leaning her shoulder on the frame with an easy, inviting grin. If Stevie’s outfit is inappropriate, then Eddie’s is a downright scandal. She’s not wearing a shirt, for starters, just a tight sports bra that cuts off some tattoos and accentuates others, a riot of black ink on pale skin, soft and stark contrast sprawling over her shoulders and curling around her ribcage, snaking down her sides to slither over sharp hip bones, just visible over a pair of low-slung black sweats. 

Stevie’s mouth is so dry. “Hi,” she squeaks.

Eddie’s eyes glitter in the low light. “Oh, you’re cute.” She sounds pleased. Almost predatory. “Come on in.” 

She steps to the side, bowing a little in a sweeping gesture of welcome, and behind her, a guy with black hair down to his waist leans over the coffee table and rips an insane hit off a three-foot-tall green plastic bong and starts coughing like he might die while another guy pats his back in sympathy. 

“Oh.” Holy shit. “Um.”

Eddie follows Stevie’s gaze; barks a loud laugh and a Jesus Christ at the opaque cloud hanging in her living room. “My roommate, Argyle, and my roommate’s roommate, Jon,” she smirks. “If you can see them through the smoke.”

“You want some?” Argyle offers when he finishes coughing, already working to load another bowl. 

“I’m good.” She scrunches her nose. “Wait, your roommate’s roommate?” she asks Eddie. “But wouldn’t that make him…?” 

The guy, Jon, looks up at her and laughs, holding up air quotes as he turns his attention to Eddie, clearly repeating something he’s heard a dozen times. “Nah, ‘cause I’m ‘not on the lease, I just never leave their house.’” 

“Would you prefer I call you what you really are, huh?” Eddie narrows her eyes, playfully mean. “Snack thief? Squatter? Good for nothin’—”

“My sad boy musical stylings enrich your life, and you know it.” 

Another laugh — full volume, all teeth, her chest bouncing with it. Stevie likes how expressive she is. How free. 

“Don’t worry,” Eddie tells her, “they were just heading out.” 

—

“So, how do you want to do this?” Eddie asks after they leave; sitting side by side on the sofa, close but not quite touching, one arm draped casually over the back of the couch.

Steve tries to calm her breathing. Can’t quite manage it. “I— I was hoping you’d tell me?” 

“You were hoping I’d tell you how you want it?” Eddie teases, big, dark eyes running all over Stevie’s face. Stevie flushes bright red — stupid, stupid, oh my god. Why is she so bad at talking? Why did she even agree to this at all? “Hey,” Eddie pulls her back to the moment, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Her fingers are warm, the nails bitten short. “I’m good with that.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure.” She stretches her arms back out over the couch. “Got a lot of experience DMing, so. I don’t mind playing the narrator if that’s what you’re asking for.” 

“I don’t know what I’m asking for,” Stevie mumbles, embarrassed. She doesn’t even know what half that sentence meant, but something about Eddie’s casual confidence makes her want to learn. 

“Listen,” Eddie chews her lip. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I’m not gonna, like, pressure you or whatever, so uh, if you just want to sit here and talk, then we can—”

“No! No, it’s—” A nervous giggle bubbles up. Oh, my god. She cuts herself off with a sharp exhale, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling and her shoulders down her back and willing herself toget it the fuck together. She’s Stevie Harrington, damn it. She knows how to get laid. “I want to do this,” she says, steady and sure. And she should end it at that, but then: “You’re super hot and I want to let you do whatever you want with me, which honestly? I, like, was not expecting that reaction from myself when I agreed to this, y’know? So that’s kinda crazy — and also I don’t really know what my options are here, like I understand the anatomy, obviously, because I have the same stuff, but I don’t, um— and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or say the wrong thing or—”

God, is she Stevie Harrington? Because she’s pretty sure Robin Elizabeth Buckley just took over control of her mouth. 

Eddie’s eyes are doing the glittery thing again. “You think I’m hot?” 

Wow. “Of course that’s the only part you heard.”

“Well, sure.” She licks her teeth, smile going cocky. “You don’t highlight the whole paragraph when you’re studying for a test, do you?” You don’t?? “Do you have a safeword in mind, by the way?” 

“A what?”

Eddie makes a muted noise that sounds a lot like Robin when she sees a service dog she’s not allowed to pet. “Nevermind. You can just say stop or tell me no if you don’t like something I’m doing, mmkay?”

“Well, duh.”

“Mm.” Stevie wishes she understood what the smirk was for this time. “I’ll check in first, too, of course,” Eddie assures, tucking her chin, ringed hand splayed over her heart. “Not gonna just spring shit on you without asking.” 

Stevie’s eyes drift down to Eddie’s chest, to the black painted thumbnail nearly dipping into her cleavage. “What if I’m into that?” 

Eddie throws her head back when she laughs, curls springing free from a messy top bun. “God, you’re cute, you know that?” Her voice dips low, raspy with want as she tips Stevie’s chin up to look at her, her tongue dipping out to wet her lips. “Fuck,” she hums, “Yeah.” 

Stevie’s breath hitches. She sways closer. “Yeah?”

“Mmhm.” Ringed fingers slide into her hair, tugging just a little, sending tingles down her spine. “Real pretty, baby. You gonna let me kiss you?”

“Yeah.” 

Their noses brush. “Say please.”

“Eddie, please.”

—

Stevie’s gonna die. Like Argyle coughing up a lung in the living room earlier, only Stevie’s halfway off Eddie’s mattress with Eddie’s tongue between her legs and she’s pretty sure she’s about to snap in half like a glow stick and fucking orgasm to death. “Stop, stop-stop-stop, oh, my god!” she gasps, wriggling up the bed as another wave threatens to crash over her, her thighs shaking around Eddie’s ears, pulse throbbingagainst the two fingers buried deep inside her. 

Eddie pulls her fingers out and looks up with a feral grin. Red-faced, mouth shining, bangs frizzy with sweat and friction, she crawls her way up Stevie’s body, dragging a trail of wet, happy kisses up her heaving belly as she goes; ducking to kiss one breast and then the other before landing a featherlight kiss on the tip of Stevie’s nose. “All good, sweetheart?” 

Stevie giggles like a schoolgirl. God. She’s never felt like this before, didn’t know sex could be this bubbly. She feels like she’s high. “Yeah. Just need a second, I’m… Wow.”

“Hi Wow, I’m dad.” 

“Oh, my fucking god.” 

Eddie chuckles and bends to nip at Stevie’s jawline, hands squeezing at her waist, sliding down to her hips and back up, thumbs skimming the swell of her breasts. “Jesus Christ, the curves on you,” she mutters, breath hot and fast on Stevie’s throat. “So fucking beautiful, you know that?” Her tongue draws a wet line up to the skin just below Stevie’s ear, and she pauses to suck a bruising kiss there; makes Stevie squirm and whine, high-pitched, nasal noises that should be embarrassing. “Want to eat you out all night,” Eddie confesses in her ear. “Make you come over and over again on my tongue, on my cock—”

“Oh, my god.” 

“Yeah, baby?” She rocks her hips, shifts her weight to wedge a thigh between Stevie’s legs and grind down, firm, steady pressure that isn’t nearly enough. “You want to wrap your pretty legs around me and come all over my strap?” 

“Oh, fuck!” Her eyes fly open, something like panic as she realizes she’s about to come and not yet not without you inside me Eddie please, “I’m— holy shit, Eddie, please, I’m—”

She scrambles to clasp Eddie’s hand and drag it down her trembling body, squeezing the two sticky fingers and hoping Eddie speaks the language of “desperate cum bomb about to blow” — she’s fluent, apparently, because her eyes light up when she gets the message, and she wedges her arm between their bodies and slips her fingers through the slick mess Stevie’s making for her, rubbing over her swollen clit with her thumb as she hooks two fingers inside and says, “Fuck, yeah, baby, that’s it. Show me how badly you want to come, honey; come on, I know you want to, be good for me and come.”

Stevie’s whole body clenches, a star collapsing under its own gravity before it explodes across the cosmos, wave after wave of pleasure as she sobs out Eddie’s name. Eddie kisses her through it, tongue slipping into her mouth in rhythm with her fingers, fucking her slow and sweet and good, no one’s ever been this good before, and Stevie imagines this moment from Eddie’s point of view — how it must feel to make a pretty girl shiver and shake apart, how God must feel when he makes stardust. 

“Holy shit,” Stevie stutters on a winded laugh when she can speak, chest heaving under Eddie’s comforting weight. She kinda likes the way their boobs squish together. “That was…”

“Wow?” Eddie supplies, rolling off to lie on her back. 

“So wow,” Stevie nods. 

They catch their breath in comfortable silence for a second, and then Eddie hops up; comes back with a warm washcloth and a bottle of water. “So,” she says, dragging the damp rag over Stevie’s inner thighs, “I take it the experiment went well?” 

“Who’s experimenting?” Stevie jokes, sitting up to take a sip of her drink. “I think I’m ready to propose after that.” 

“Ha!” Eddie smacks a playful kiss to a mole just above Stevie’s knee. “Maybe dinner first.” 

“I’d like that.” 

It’s too sincere, maybe — too honest, laying all her cards face up on the table, which… historically hasn’t worked out so well for her. But she’s pretty sure the deck is in good hands this time around. Gentle hands with pretty rings and blunt black nails, and when Eddie answers her eyes shine like the night sky. “I think I’d like that, too.”

[rogue-alien]

Day five: reunion

@steddie-week

[tedewitt]

Steddie Week Day 6! @steddie-week

So I’m a little late, but it took 2 rewrites to get here where she needed to be.

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