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emchant3d · 5 months

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modern au, exes to lovers, transfem stevie harrington

Stevie Harrington is not having a good day.

By all accounts, she should be. Robin woke her right on time by pressing a perfectly made brown sugar shaken espresso into her hand. Nancy and Chrissy got to the venue earlier than expected. The hair and makeup people were on schedule. Their boozy charcuterie brunch during their prep time was perfectly served, the mimosas delicious and the food fresh and light enough to put on her nervous stomach.

Everything’s gone off without a hitch. She looks gorgeous. She’s got her something old, her something new, her something borrowed, and even her something blue. Her hair’s done in a soft blowout, framing her face but out of the way, ready for the combs of her veil to slip into. Her makeup is elegant, not too showy and not too dramatic, neutral and warm and sweet. And her dress. It’s what she always dreamed of, clingy and silky with a dramatic leg slit and a long train, off the shoulders, perfectly white. She’s staring at herself in the mirror knowing that in forty-five minutes, she’s going to hold the world’s most beautiful wedding bouquet and walk down the most perfectly decorated aisle in the quaintest, sweetest church she could find, and she’ll stand across from her fiancé and take his hands and say “I do” and all of her dreams will come true.

So she should be having a good day.

Because it’s her wedding day, and Stevie Harrington is about to become Stefania Hagan.

Maybe that brunch wasn’t so perfect after all, because she thinks she’s about to puke.

“I can’t do this,” she says, but her voice is so soft it’s barely a whisper and the girls don’t even glance at her. “I can’t do this,” she repeats, and Robin - bless her, her favorite person in the world, her soulmate, her other half, her maid of honor - glances up.

“What’s that, Evie?” she asks, and the others look over at her, and Stevie stands there beneath their gazes and knows if she just says it again, says I can’t do this, don’t make me marry him, get me out of here, all three of them would drag her to an exit and get her the fuck out.

They don’t even like Tommy. Robin actively hates him, actually, and that should have been enough for Stevie to never look at him twice.

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t enough.

She thinks back to a few days ago, drunk in a bar with a white sash wrapped around her torso, a tiara on her head, and mascara running down her face as she desperately sobbed on Robin’s shoulder during her bachelorette party. That little meltdown wasn’t enough. And she thinks back further, to when Tommy proposed - in public, at a fucking baseball game, on the goddamn jumbotron. Dread had settled in her chest at the sight of the ring (huge, gaudy, she hated it on sight) even as she pasted on a smile and said yes. That hadn’t been enough.

But somehow standing here done up head to toe, about to walk down the aisle in her absolute dream wedding - that’s enough. Because everything about today is right. Everything’s in place. Everything’s gorgeous and going to plan and she should be so, so happy - but it’s the wrong man waiting for her at the end of all of it.

She can’t do this.

She looks up and meets Robin’s eyes and forces a smile. “I said I need to get my veil,” she lies, and she slips into her shoes (red bottoms, a gift from Tommy’s mother, perfectly white and pointed and it’s her dream day, how can she be throwing this away?) and walks into the other room where her garment bag is hanging, and her veil is there with its delicate detail and it’s scalloped edges and it’s all so fucking perfect she’s going to scream, she wants to rip it to pieces and she wants to tear this dress off and she wants to sob, she doesn’t want to do this, she doesn’t want to get married - not to him. Not to Tommy.

She could ask for help. Robin would have her out of here in five minutes flat, Nancy would craft an excuse to tell everyone, and Chrissy would cause a distraction. But even that’s too long of a wait. Even that’s too much attention, too much suspicion. She needs to move faster than that. She needs out now.

She quickens her pace as she crosses the room, dress dragging along the carpet, and she snags her phone where it’s sitting on the end table next to an overstuffed love seat, and in three long strides she’s out the door and in the hall and the church has been busy and packed all day but somehow, miraculously, there’s no one here.

No one sees Stevie as she gathers up the fabric of her dress in her hands and starts to walk towards the exit. No one sees as her walk speeds to a jog, and then a run, and then she slams out of a side door and she’s on the sidewalk and she’s sprinting, her heels are going to get scuffed by the pavement but she can’t care, she’s running as fast as she can and dodging people on the sidewalk as they turn and gawk at her and she cannot give them a thought, cannot focus on them even a little bit because she has to get away, escape is the only thought on her mind as she gasps for air, her dress is so heavy and it’s not made for running that’s for goddamn sure, and the last few years with Tommy flash through her mind - every time he’s undermined her or given her a backhanded compliment or policed her, told her she wasn’t feminine enough, told her she wasn’t trying hard enough to pass, told her to just keep it all to herself so no one would know she wasn’t cis, wouldn’t embarrass him by making a scene, all the times that come together to a glaringly obvious conclusion that he doesn’t really love her and she kind of hates him a little actually, and obviously she can’t fucking marry him and–

There.

A beat-up four-door with an Uber sticker in the window.

That’ll do, she thinks, and she changes course, shoulder-checking a man and not apologizing for it as she makes a beeline for the car. She pops off an acrylic wrenching the door open and tossing herself into the backseat, and she yells “DRIVE!” at the top of her lungs and somehow, through some miracle, they listen, swerving into traffic with a loud curse and a myriad of honking horns and a quaint, sweet little church growing smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.

She’s gasping for breath, chest heaving, staring out the back window like she’s waiting for someone to follow her - and maybe she is, maybe Tommy is hot on her trail, or maybe Robin is coming to kill her for not including her in her mad dash to freedom and instead jumping in a stranger’s car going God knows where.

“So uh,” a voice says, and she whips around, staring wide-eyed at the brown eyes fixed on her in the mirror, and no, no fucking way– “where to, ma’am?”

“Um,” she says, and her voice is shaky, cracking a little, she brushes her hair out of her face and stares and– wait.

There’s a beat. The driver’s eyes widen. Recognition flashes over his face at the same time it registers for Stevie.

“Stevie?” Eddie Munson, her ex-boyfriend of several years, the man she hasn’t spoken to since that fateful night they went their separate ways, is staring at her in shock, not even looking at the road, and the only thing she can think is how he’s just as averse to road safety now as he’d been way back when.

“Eddie,” she croaks out.

Too many emotions are overwhelming her at once and it feels like the biggest cliché in the world, but honestly, Stevie feels like she’s entitled to some dramatics. It’s her goddamn wedding day, after all.

Her failed wedding day.

Where she just left her fiancé at the altar.

“Oh god,” she manages. Her lower lip wobbles. Her vision blurs.

“Stevie,” Eddie says again, like a warning, and that’s enough to push her over.

She bursts into tears in his backseat.

“Hey hey hey!” he says like she’s a fucking spooked horse or something, which only makes her cry more, ugly sobs that shake her shoulders and drip tear drops onto her dress. “Stevie, honey–”

“Do NOT call me honey right now!” she manages, and he raises a hand in surrender before flipping on a turn signal and finding a parking lot to pull over in.

“Okay, okay! No comforting pet names, you got it,” he agrees, and he shuts the car off, turning in his seat to look at her, concern painted all over his face and that’s just really not fair, she thinks, that he still looks so earnest and sweet and fucking worried about her.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, urgent and serious, and she shakes her head quickly.

“No! No, I’m - I’m fine, really,” she insists and he proves that he is a gentleman after all, because he doesn’t call her out on the blatant lie.

“Okay,” he says, level, his hand hovering in the space between them like he wants to touch her. “What do you need?” he asks, and she wipes at her face with her hands, swallowing down yet another sob.

“Get me out of here,” she pleads, and he searches her face for - something, she doesn’t know what, because she’s sure all she’s showing him is how much of a fucking mess she is, but he must find whatever he’s looking for.

He gives her a sharp nod. “Anywhere in particular, sweetheart?” he asks, turning to start the car again. She doesn’t call him out on the pet name this time.

“Anywhere but here,” she says, and he puts the car in reverse, pulling back onto the road.

“You got it,” he says, and some of that old charm must kick in - he winks at her in the rearview. She resolutely ignores the spike of emotion it gives her.

Then she takes a deep, shuddery breath, and opens the group chat to break the news to her wedding party.

part 2

#steddie #steddie fic #trans steve harrington #transfeminine steve harrington #stevie harrington #runaway bride stevie #my fic #apologies in advance but i don't do tag lists <3

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solarmorrigan · 2 months

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The boundaries of Steve and Robin's friendship quickly become all but nonexistent. They can talk to each other about anything, ask each other about anything

And Robin has questions

She's never seen a dick before, has no real intention of seeing one in the future, and finds the concept of them both mysterious and weird. But she can admit to a certain amount of academic curiosity about how they work. And then she remembers that her best friend, Steve, is A Guy™ and could surely answer at least some of her questions

Meanwhile, Steve, due to the aforementioned lack of boundaries, has all but forgotten that he never actually came out to Robin as trans. He's been merrily carrying on just assuming she already knows

These two facts collide one day at Family Video when they're both idly watching some mindless teen movie they've put on for the day while waiting for customers to show up. They reach what seems to be a very contrived skinny dipping scene, which makes Robin think, and she turns to ask Steve, "Hey, do dicks float in water?"

And Steve, without even looking away from the screen, shrugs and asks her, "How the fuck should I know?"

It takes half a minute of silence for him to realize that Robin is staring at him with no small amount of bewilderment and concern

(They later come to the agreement that they'll just have to wait and see if Steve ever gets a boyfriend, and then ask him all their dick-related queries)

#which means poor Eddie is going to have to deal with the both of them throwing weird dick hypotheticals at him #like they're spitballing ideas for a middle school science fair project #platonic stobin #robin buckley #steve harrington #trans steve harrington #ftm steve harrington #stranger things #solar wrote

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lapinelantern · 5 months

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They moved in together in 1990

#I wanted to give Steve a similar body type to me bc he’s literally just like me!!!#transmasc #eddie stranger things #steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #lapine lantern #my art #trans steve harrington #body positive #body image #let my boy be happy #we love him a little bit more tummy #big hips Harrington #as a trans man with big hips i-

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warren-keplers-funk-band · 2 years

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the internet has plagued my brain with transfem steve i blame fanfic writers

#i'm not complaining #like at all #*slaps steddie* these bad boys can fit so much gender #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fanart #steddie fanart #trans steve harrington #dan's art

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wheatnoodle · 10 months

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modern steddie where everyone moves off and unless they live near each other, they don’t really talk as much as they used to. robin and steve of course live together in the city on one of the coasts.

robin, like the others, will reach out every now and then and chat with some people from the old group, get coffee when they’re in town. steve, however, has apparently dropped off the face of the earth.

he doesn’t text, doesn’t call, he’s not on social media, nothing. they’re hurt, yeah, but if that’s what he needs to heal, so be it.

but robin IS on social media. and she’s been posting these pictures for the past year and a bit of her and her “best friend” as her captions label them. it’s not steve. it’s a girl. a really pretty girl with these big brown eyes and long, wavy brown hair that she likes to throw blonde highlights in to. she’s got all these freckles and moles and wears the cutest dresses and sandals seemingly everywhere they go.

her name is evie, according to the tagged account evieinthesky. sometimes robin will throw a full “evangeline” in comments and captions.

the rest of the party have seen the photos of evangeline, they even ask robin if she wants to invite her out when they visit but she always has an excuse ready why she can’t.

but then robin gets a comment on a pic of her and evie.

eddieisdead: yo is your friend uhhh,,,🔓???

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #steddie #stobin #platonic stobin #trans!steve harrington #trans steve harrington #transfem steve harrington #evie harrington #fem steve harrington #stranger things season 4 #stranger things fic #do i continue this is the question #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie wip #fic wip

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tink27 · 4 months

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Steddie ficlet (might do a follow up to show Eddie's reaction)

"He likes a boy"

after years of friendship, and being joined at the proverbial hip, Robin liked to think she could read Steve pretty well, however, his love of being just vague enough to confuse her made this difficult.

"who likes a what now?" still trying to get a read on Steve's feelings, but as of right now he just seemed, disconnected. Since showing up unexpectedly at her house, he had maintained that far-away sort of look that showed that even Steve didn't know what he was feeling.

"Eddie... he... we were hanging out and he" finally he fully met Robin's gaze, and the heartbroken edge to his vacant stare became evident "he was implying, heavily, that he likes me"

"... likes likes you?"

Steve's expression briefly switched to mocking disbelief at her childish choice of words, but he didn't have the energy for any kind of clever retort

"Yes Robin! like likes me!" throwing up his hands before allowing them to smack down against their Jeans ("their" because they fit them both and had been making the rotation between both Steve and Robin's wardrobe for months, she wasn't entirely sure who they belonged to to begin with, not that it mattered)

"And you're... upset?" This was baffling because in the months since Eddie returned for the upside-down, the two had never been closer. Far too many shifts consisted of Steve waxing poetic about Eddie while Robin vaguely tried to relate and be supportive. Although why Steve seemed so utterly smitten as he talked about Eddie's hair or musical elitism would never really make sense to Robin. But still, she saw how they were together.

Steve had a bad track record for love, pouring every part of himself into another person in a way that was truly heartbreaking to watch. However, it became significantly less heartbreaking when it was accompanied by Eddie's eyes following Steve around every room, and always looking to him in conversations no matter who was there because it was Steve's opinion and thoughts that mattered to him most. They truly were obsessed with each other, and honestly, Robin had been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

So Steve's stricken expression made no sense, nor did his frustration that Robin - despite being his platonic soulmate - didn't magically understand the issue he was having.

"I dont know Robs, its just he likes... Steve Harrington" his voice was defeated as he said it, but it still explained nothing

"....you're Steve Harrington" The confusion in her voice was evident "Am I missing something here, this isn't a 'King Steve' thing is it, because Eddie has made it pretty clear that he thought you were a jerk back then"

the noise of frustration from Steve showed she clearly had missed the point and never had she wished so badly to read her best friend's mind as when the tears began to well up in his eyes. She wanted to hug him, but knew from experience that Steve needed to get the thoughts out first.

There was a minute of silence that Robin had to try desperately to not break, every instinct wanting to spit out an awkward and unhelpful comment to lighten the mood, but she knew she just had to wait.

"I'm not..." the words seemed to get lodged in his throat, even those two words came out scratchy and uncomfortable

He squeezed his eyes shut "I'm not a boy"

Steve opened their eyes, with a desperate expression "I'm not a boy"

It was a statement but also a plea. Begging for Robin to know exactly what to say. She didnt.

"you're not a boy." Robin made sure to sound confident, at least she could pretend to know what she was doing. It seemed okay because they gave an awkward nod, head moving slightly too much for it to seem natural

"you're.... a girl?"

the tears seemed to spill the second she said it, and a choked noise lodged itself in their (her?) throat, but after a moment of panicked pause their eyes screwed shut and they nodded but also shrugged. Clearly just as confused by their discomfort as Robin is.

"Okay, thats okay Ste-" shit, stupid "that's okay babe, you're still you, and hey I might be... severely romantically challenged but even I know Eddie is obsessed with you"

there's a brief watery smile before the corners of her lips are pulled down "He likes Steve, he wouldn't like me"

"Horse shit" Robin wasn't as confident as she was trying to sound, but she knew that her best friend was still her best friend and that anyone who didn't adore her was an idiot (as all best friends know)

she moved to sit next to her friend who had ended up on the floor with her knees pulled to her chest, and once again the silence was allowed to stretch out before them, only broken up by heartbroken sniffles and shakey breaths

"so..." Robin wished more than any other moment that she wasn't so awkward "Not Steve?"

"I-" the thought gets broken off " It doesn't feel right, doesn't feel like it's me"

"whats you?" two words encapsulating a question that was near impossible to answer, but it still felt right to ask, to show that Robin wanted to know the answer.

the expression on her face showed that her friend also thought the question unanswerable, and a frustrated shrug fell from her

Robin hated that defeated expression, so she tried "Michelle?"

Clearly, the scrunched-up expression implied it wasn't a fit

"Hannah?" no not that

"Sarah?" seemed less disgusted but still no

"Becky?" okay back to disgust, moving on

"OH! Punch me if this sucks, but... Stevie?" Robin felt the need to justify her choice, showing that she wasn't just trying to make her keep her old name "Like Stevie Nicks! I could see that, dye your hair blonde, get some bangs"

the comment about changing her hair was obviously met with a scowl, but after a soft smile found its way onto her face "Stevie feels better"

Robin had never felt so smart, she was a fucking genius "Stevie is it babe"

Stevie spent moments looking at her, seemingly deep in thought before softly speaking "Thank you Robin"

it seemed too formal for them, to say it so directly with her name like that, but she could tell that Stevie was really grateful so Robin held back the tears (one of them had to be the butch one in this relationship)

"no problem babe" it was spoken just as softly as the thanks, and for now it seemed enough

"Now, tell me what happened with Eddie"

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steventhusiast · 5 months

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STWG daily prompt 9/12/23

prompt: barbie

pairing/character(s): steddie, stobin

transfemme!stevie has my heart ngl

Stevie's been out to Eddie for a few months when her birthday comes around. And she's anticipating a... Depressing day, if she's honest.

The only people that know are Eddie and Robin. To everyone else, she's still a guy. So she anticipates all the masculine gifts; cologne, clothes she won't wear, gag gifts from the kids about her being their dad.

And that part of her birthday is depressing. She sits through a lunch-time barbecue with the party and Eddie holds her hand out of view of everyone else so she can squeeze it every time something is said that makes her want to bawl her eyes out. Like how Mike keeps making jokes about how her hair's starting to be too long to look good, and Dustin keeps asking why she's wearing so many layers in July, and everyone keeps calling her the birthday boy, and son, and Steve-

She's happy to go home, is the point. Expects to spend the rest of the night curled up on the couch with Eddie who will no doubt spend the rest of his night feeding her words of affirmation about how she's his girl and other ooey gooey feminine phrases he knows quell the knot in her stomach some.

What she doesn't expect is for Robin to be sat on the couch she wants to curl up on, a comically huge blanket in her hands and an equally comically large pile of gifts towered in front of the couch.

"Rob, what-" Stevie starts, eyebrows raising involuntarily. She looks to Eddie, who has a small, proud smile on his face.

"Happy birthday, dingus!" Robin cheers. A party popper seems to have materialised in her hand out of nowhere, and Stevie can't help the laugh that's shocked out of her when it pops loudly.

"Go get changed into something more Stevie, okay, my love? It's time for your real birthday." Eddie says into her ear.

A sudden well of emotion builds up inside her at the words, at how lovely her boyfriend and best friend are, at the thought of how much they must have spent to buy her these gifts. She sniffs harshly to keep tears from falling, nods, and goes to her and Eddie's room without a word.

She considers getting straight into sweats in case she falls asleep in the living room, but knows she needs to feel feminine right now. Needs to see who she is reflected on the outside as well as the inside so she doesn't feel so... Wrong for the rest of the night. She slips into a comfortable pink day dress with a wrap front (an incredibly willing donation from Robin's closet) and doesn't give herself any time to scrutinise her figure in the mirror. Just brushes her hair out of its more masculine style of being pushed back, and into something softer that frames her face.

When she reenters the living room, Robin is still sat on the couch with the blanket, and Eddie is crouched down by the pile of gifts, murmuring to himself as he picks through them. Robin's laughing at him, and Stevie's chest feels warm in their presence.

"Hey! There's the birthday girl." Eddie grins when he sees her, and then looks back down at the gift pile to select a box-shaped one that's wrapped in purple polka-dot paper.

Stevie sits next to Robin, and tilts her head to rest on her shoulder as she watches her boyfriend make a sound of celebration when he holds up the gift.

"I was gonna save this gift for last, but after that shitshow I just- here, babygirl." He holds it out to Stevie with a softer smile on his face (Robin calls it his Stevie Smile), and Stevie takes it with gentle hands.

"It's from him and me, by the way. Don't let dingus 2 take all the credit." Robin adds on. Eddie just rolls his eyes and nods, and then starts to talk as Stevie carefully tears the wrapping paper. She's trying to preserve it as much as she can. Wants to keep as much evidence of her first birthday as herself as she can.

"I hope we got the right one. It was kinda hard to find, but I went to a bunch of flea markets and I remember you talking about how when you were younger you wanted it but your mom wouldn't let you and-"

Eddie cuts himself off when Stevie finally tears enough wrapping paper away to see the beginnings of the Barbie logo and gasps. Tears are already brewing in her eyes, and maybe one or two drip onto the precious wrapping paper as she manages to slide it off to reveal-

"Ballerina Barbie." She whispers, staring down at the doll. Her hands are shaking a little, and she feels so incredibly wobbly and warm.

She can't believe Eddie remembers what she said about the moment she knew she wasn't a boy the way she was supposed to be. How her mom had snatched the toy out of her hands in the toystore and replaced it with a car set.

"Is it the right one?" Eddie asks after a moment, and Stevie lifts her head to see him chewing nervously on his lip.

Instead of speaking, she wordlessly gestures for him to join her and Robin on the couch and promptly throws an arm around each of them for a much needed cuddle.

"It's perfect." She says to both of them, and gets twin squeezes to each side. A couple more tears slip out as she looks at the pile of gifts she still has to go through, "I can't believe you guys did all this for me."

"We love you, Stevie-bee." Robin says simply. Like that explains everything. Like it makes perfect sense.

"Yeah, we gotta treat our girl the way she deserves." Eddie adds on.

And Stevie thinks that maybe it does make perfect sense. After all, she'd go the same length for either of them.

#steddie #stobin #stevie harrington #trans steve harrington #steddie ficlet #steddie drabble #the party aren't transphobes to be clear they just literally do not know #stwgdailyprompt #dailydrabble #mywriting #steve harrington #eddie munson

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scoops-stevie-archive · 11 months

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ftm steve, established steddie. contains detailed descriptions of periods.

Steve spends the first day of his period absolutely miserable. His emotions are all over the place. One minute he's this close to lashing out at the first minor inconvenience and the next he's ready to bawl his eyes out.

He knows Robin can tell that something's up. She keeps asking if he's alright and Steve tries to brush it off, tell her he's fine, it's just a little headache, he couldn't sleep last night. But then that sends her into another spiral that makes Steve want to scream and throw something just to get her to be quiet.

Those are mean thoughts, Steve knows, but his body's all out of whack, and his knees and lower back are killing him and he swears he can feel his fucking hips shifting. Add in the cramps that are steadily rolling through his uterus and he's so fucking close to committing homicide.

He's in the stacks, dead-eyed as he stocks the new animated releases, and shifting from foot to foot because now those also hurt and he can feel the beginnings of a migraine that'll have him calling off the next day, and he just wants to go home and lay on the couch with his heating pad and his boyfriend while some shitty TV show plays in the background.

"Steve?" Speak of the devil.

Steve makes a noise of acknowledgement and continues to shelve the tapes. He ignores the pang in his chest that makes him want to reach out and pull Eddie closer and burrow into him.

As if he can read his mind (or tell by the look on his face), Eddie steps closer. "You got Robbie real worried, sweetheart," he says gently, hands in his pockets. Steve can tell he wants to reach out for him the same way he does.

"I'm fine, Eds," Steve says. More like he tries not to snap at the only person who knows about his "condition." He can feel his agitation rising, though, with another wave of cramps that are accompanied by nausea and a sick feeling of something gushing from down there.

"Is that why you look like you wanna blow chunks all over the place right now?"

Steve maybe puts a tape on the shelf a little too hard. "It's been a shit day, Eddie, I really don't need sarcasm right now."

Eddie puts his hands up. "Sorry, sorry." He comes a little closer and lowers his voice. "Talk to me, baby. What's the matter?"

Steve sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's the first day," he mutters behind his hand.

"Hm? I couldn't hear you, Stevie."

"I said–" Steve sighs again, harsher this time, and his hand falls to his side, his gaze firmly locked on the tapes in front of him. "It's the first day, and the first day is always shit. It feels like a rock's sitting in my stomach or something and I can't take more than two steps without feeling like I'm gonna puke."

He doesn't mean to unload it all onto his boyfriend, but he asked for it. His perfect, wonderful boyfriend who takes it all in stride without a single hint of judgement or disgust.

"I'm hormonal as fuck, man, and it’s like customers chose today specifically to be even more annoying than they usually are, like they made it their personal mission or some shit."

Steve looks to the front of the store where Robin is still at the counter and then back at Eddie. "Robin keeps asking me if I'm alright, and I love her, Eds, I really do, but if she keeps it up, I'm gonna end up snapping at her and then she'll cry and that'll make me feel even worse."

Steve takes a deep breath, holds in it for ten seconds, and exhales. "I just need a break," he says, sounding defeated, and so so tired. "I just need to be alone for five minutes, and–"

Eddie, who has been quiet this whole time, like a saint, letting Steve rant until he runs out of steam, tilts his head and looks at him with those big Bambi eyes Steve loves so much.

"And what, Stevie?" he asks gently.

Something in Steve's chest snaps and his bottom lip wobbles before he can stop it. The back of his throat burns like it always does when he's about to cry, and– yep, here come the tears.

He takes a shaky breath and his voice breaks when he says, "I need you."

Eddie's expression falls into something Steve absolutely hates. "Baby–"

Steve clears his throat and the tears are gone as quick as they came, though his eyes are a little red rimmed and shiny.

He shakes his head and waves Eddie off, putting more tapes on the shelves like he didn't just have a mini breakdown in the middle of his shift. "It's fine, Eddie, really. I'll just, I don't know, take a painkiller and tough the next couple hours out."

The tape he's holding is gently taken from him and set on the shelf for him. Eddie levels him with a raised eyebrow.

"Is that really what you want to do?"

Steve bites his lip. He doesn't. Work is the last place he wants to be at today, or this whole week for that matter.

He shakes his head with a soft, "No."

"Okay, then."

Eddie tells him to go grab his things from the break room. Steve is too exhausted to argue. He comes back to the front counter but before Robin can launch into a lengthy apology, Eddie interrupts her with a minute shake of his head.

Steve holds his arms out and pulls her in for a hug anyway.

"I'm sorry for being an ass all day," he says and plants a kiss on the top of her head.

Robin hugs him back and kisses his cheek. "I'm sorry for being pushy." She pulls back and takes Steve's hands in hers, lacing their fingers together. "Hope you feel better soon, dingus."

Steve can't leave his car at work overnight so he follows Eddie's van to the trailer. He grabs one of Eddie's pullover hoodies out of his closet once they're inside and a pair of baggy sweatpants before making a beeline for the bathroom to pee and change his pad.

Soon enough, Steve comfortable and cozy on the couch, covered with at least two blankets and even more pillows, his hood pulled over his head and mussing his hair up even more. Eddie's got My Friend Is a Vampire playing on the TV, but Steve's saving grace is the heating pad that's covering his waist under the blankets.

Steve groans softly as he's hit with more cramps and shifts his hips against them.

"Here, sweetheart." Eddie comes back from the kitchen and hands him a cup of hot chocolate. He reclaims his spot next to Steve, boxing him between his body and the back of the couch. "How you feeling?"

"Like shit," Steve grumps, taking a sip and reaching back to set the mug on the side table. "I'd rather take being gnawed on by demobats than have to deal with these cramps. At least I can see the bats and try to stop them." He winds his arms around Eddie's waist and rests his head on his shoulder.

Eddie crinkles his nose in distaste. "Frankly, babe, I'd rather you not go through either." He rubs his thumb over the skin of Steve's hip. "What's stopping you from using all that government money to pay for your surgery?"

Steve hums and turns his nose into Eddie's neck, smiling against the skin. "I wanna get at least one kid out of you before I do that."

They've talked about this. In length. Eddie was there for the Winnebago conversation. Steve wasn't lying back then, but he's since realized he was wanting all those things with the wrong person.

"Yeah?" Eddie's voice is amused. "You want a couple Harrington spawn running around the trailer park?"

"Nah, was thinking more along the lines of a Munson brat."

Eddie stills against him.

Steve comes out from his hiding spot and grins at the look on his boyfriend's face. He leans up and kisses his cheek. "Did I break your brain on that one, honey?"

Eddie shakes himself out of his stupor and cups Steve's face, pressing him into the couch so he can kiss him silly.

"I'm gonna give you so many Munson brats, baby," he promises between leaving kisses all over Steve's face and Steve's giggles. "You won't even know what hit ya by the time I'm through with you."

Steve guffaws and lets Eddie cover him with kisses and love.

"I'll hold you to that, baby, don't worry."

#cj writes #steddie #steddie ficlet #ftm steve #ftm steve harrington #trans steve harrington #wrote this on tuesday when i started my period and was feeling like shit #now it's saturday and my period is over #cj talks

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targetf0rce · 7 months

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some more dad steve and his son dustin

#steve harrington #dustin henderson #steve harrington fanart #dustin henderson fanart #stranger things #stranger things fanart #trans steve harrington #dad steve harrington #parent steve harrington #my art #targetf0rcedraws #artwork #queer artist #digital art #illustration

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fuctacles · 13 days

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Trans is fine, but you better not be a Swiftie!

For @subeddieweek Day 5 | T | 1502 | cw: hinted transphobia | transfem Steve, PDA, rockstar Eddie, jealousy, possesive Stevie, bitchy Stevie | Ao3

It took the whole of Corroded Coffin to convince her to go to the concert. It may make her sound like an unsupportive girlfriend, but she hasn't been to any of their gigs in months. Eddie never complained about it, aware that metal concerts aren't for everyone, even if they do like the music. She's also hit a weird stage in her transition when she didn't feel like going to public events.

But here she was, at their first solo concert, no festival to crutch on. In the newest band t-shirt, one she saw through every stage of designing, her tits barely making a dent (Eddie had a different opinion on that topic), while two skanks next to her had her cleavages on full display in their tiny cut-up t-shirts.

They were in the VIP lounge, waiting for the band to emerge from backstage. Stevie could have been there with them, but the rush and heat behind a concert like this gave her a worse headache than the actual music. So instead, she had to sit there with two textbook examples of a groupie. And one of them looked meaner than Carol, back from high school, when she didn't get her chocolate pudding.

"You sure you're in the right place?" one of them finally speaks up.

Stevie looks pointedly at her band t-shirt.

"Is this not a Taylor Swift concert?" she asks, eyes going wide. The second girl presses her lips, holding back a laugh. The first one narrows her eyes, though.

"Don't sass me, girlie, you know what I mean," she hisses. "Wearing plain jeans and a hoodie to meet Eddie Munson? That's so disrespectful."

Stevie wouldn't call her jeans plain. They were expensive mom-cut and made her ass look good. The girl didn't need to know she treated them like a premium version of sweatpants. And the hoodie was Eddie's. He gave it to her before going on stage tonight.

She shrugs off her words.

"I don't think he'll mind."

The girl scoffs.

"Oh, he's too nice to say anything, but he'll know you're a poser. Who goes to a metal concert dressed like that? He'd never go for you."

Stevie raises her eyebrows, taken aback.

"Excuse me?"

"Excuse you," the girl barks back, nonsensically. Her friend touches her arm as if giving her a sign to back dial it down, but she either doesn't notice or chooses to ignore her. "You don't look like you're here for the music, hell, you probably can't name a single song!"

(Stevie named some of them herself.)

"So you must be here for Eddie," she concludes with a sneer.

"Well, I am here for him," Stevie deadpans truthfully. This seems to further fuel her VIP lounge companion.

"Keep dreaming. He's into real metalheads," she says haughtily, popping the collar of her battle vest. It's so cartoonish it takes everything from Stevie not to burst out laughing. "What do you even listen to? Country?"

"Taylor Swift, I already told you."

"See, Eddie hates normies like you. Swifties are so fucking mainstream, you'll just embarrass yourself. Maybe you should go," she suggests with a pointed look.

Stevie gives her a pitying smile back. Clearly, she wasn't as big of a fan as she claimed to be if she hadn't seen the photos of Eddie in official Taylor Swift merch that were trending just a couple of months ago.

"Eddie's looking for someone real, not a fake bitch like you."

She was going to play nice, but that was taking it too far. She felt her hackles rise and her face turned into a frown.

But before she could say anything, the second girl slapped her friend on the chest.

"What the fuck, dude?! You can't just say shit like that!"

"Like what?!" She slaps her back. "Do you think she actually cares about their music? She screams fake pop shit!" She throws her hand back, motioning at Stevie.

Who was too taken aback to react at this point.

"Fuck, I thought you were being transphobic." The girl lets out a nervous laugh. "Sorry."

"What?" The first girl takes a glance back at Stevie like she hasn't noticed before. It was kind of flattering, considering she wasn't that far in her transition, but she wouldn't take an idiot's oversight as a compliment. "I don't care about that! Mainstream music is a bigger sin than being transgender!"

"I'll drink to that."

The band chose this moment to appear at the steps to the lounge, Eddie raising the water bottle in his hand in a mock cheer.

"Eddie!" The two girls stand up in unison, and it takes all of Stephanie's willpower not to roll her eyes. Instead, she gives a wry smile to Jeff, who seems to be in a similar state of mind.

"We're here too, you know," he murmurs under his breath.

Gareth nudges his arm.

"Well, I'm glad they're not here for me," he whispers back.

Stevie snorts after hearing that, but the girls are none the wiser, too preoccupied with their beloved frontman.

"Hello ladies, hope you didn't wait too long," he greets them, accepting their enthusiastic hugs and letting them kiss his cheek.

Stevie keeps her face carefully neutral.

"It's okay, we know you're exhausted after the concert." The first girl smiles sweetly at him, and it's becoming increasingly difficult for Stevie not to gag at the shift in attitude. "I'd wait the whole night to meet you." She might need a bucket right now.

Eddie laughs nervously, taking a step back to put some distance between them.

"Ashley and Xena, right?" he asks.

"I'm Xena!" The girl exclaims, clearly proud of her unusual name. Stevie does roll her eyes this time.

Gareth appears in front of her, snickering, and she punches him softly in the thigh before raising the same fist to fist bump him. He offers her the tray of cookies he picked up from the table.

"Hi. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine." She shrugs and picks up one of the cookies. "Thanks."

He nods and retreats to one of the couches. There are three of them, set up in a triangle around a table with snacks and drinks. Which is very convenient, making Stevie think Chrissy has planned it out.

"You already know them, but it's rude not to introduce my friend." Eddie grins, making room for the rest of the band to properly greet the fans. "This is Jeff, Gareth, and Grizzly the Teddy-bear. He gives the best hugs," he says with a grin. Ted rolls his eyes.

"Just Ted is fine. But I do give the best hugs." He grins.

Eddie leaves them to it and finally goes to sit next to his girlfriend, throwing his arms over the back of the sofa and sinking into the cushions.

"I'm so tired," he groans.

"Too tired to greet me properly?" she asks with a raised eyebrow. She can feel the eyes of the other girls on them.

"Never." Eddie raises his head immediately. "Sorry, baby." He leans in to kiss her on the cheek, but she moves her head away.

"I said properly," she repeats, but her tone shifts into her more authoritative one. He hesitates for a millisecond, but his eyes don't even shift away to look at their surroundings. Stevie enjoys the power trip, seeing him uncaring of who's looking and where they are.

"Of course, sorry," he amends, straightening up to go in for a proper kiss.

He lets out a surprised whimper when she dominates it immediately, grasping his chin and claiming his mouth like she's been starving for it throughout the whole concert. Eddie goes limp in her grasp, but she wants to make it clear who he belongs to. She grabs his knee possessively, angling him even more towards her, and her other hand moves from his chin to his hair. His locks are damp with sweat after the concert, but she doesn't mind, because it's exactly how she likes him. Dirty, unkempt, falling apart under her hands.

She tugs at his hair, messing further the haphazard bun he's tied it into. He sighs, melting further into her, and it makes it easier to grasp his thighs and pull him into her lap. They finally part with a wet smack, and she can look into her boyfriend's glossy eyes.

"There's my good boy," she praises. "Hi."

"Hi," he croaks back with a dazed smile.

"Booo, get a room!" one of their friends speaks up.

Eddie groans and hides in the crook of her neck, too weak from the kiss to face the teasing yet. So Stevie takes over the social interaction for him, lacing her hands together at the small of his back while he collects himself. She sticks out her tongue to Gareth.

"Shut up, we'll behave now," she says, before turning to the two girls, her jaws shattered on the floor and there to stay for her to stomp on. She smiles charmingly at them. "You guys were saying?"

Shameless plug: @stevieweek

#cj x subeddieweek #subeddieweek #sub eddie week #sub eddie munson #steddie #stevierything #transfem stevie harrington #transfem stevie #stevie harrington #transfem steve harrington #transfeminine steve harrington #trans steve harrington

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noahsarkh · 17 days

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You know what- *transes your favourite ship*

#steddie #steve harrington #mtf steve harrington #trans steve harrington #eddie munson #ftm eddie munson #trans eddie munson #Stephanie Harrington #st4 #stranger things 4 #stranger things #digital illustration #digital drawing #digital art #procreate #fanart #t4t #t4t steddie

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emchant3d · 4 days

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part 2 of runaway bride stevie! modern au, exes to lovers, transfem stevie harrington pt 1

Eddie Munson is not having a good day.

His phone died last night so his alarm didn’t go off, his bassist is sick so their gig tonight has to be canceled, and his last three Uber rides have stiffed him on a tip.

He accepts a request from some dude named Scott with a terrible comb-over in his profile picture and gives himself two seconds to bang his forehead into his steering wheel in frustration with a closed-mouth scream. Then he dials it back so he doesn’t seem absolutely fucking insane. He can see the suit he’s about to escort to some fucking meeting even though he’d rather be doing any-fucking-thing else, and he pastes a fake smile on to greet him. He’s gearing up to fall into the usual routine of this godforsaken job, but then it all goes a little sideways.

There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and then a blur of a body is slamming into poor Scott from behind, shoulder checking him and almost sending him careening onto the sidewalk. The dude pinwheels his arms like a cartoon character, suit jacket puffing up around his shoulders awkwardly, expression so baffled it makes Eddie snort despite himself.

“Oh, shit,” he mumbles, and he’s reaching for his seatbelt to see if the guy needs any help - he looks like he might break a hip if he hits the ground - but then a whirlwind of white fabric swoops into his backseat and a loud, desperate voice yells "DRIVE!" in his ear, and he sort of just thinks 'sure, why the fuck not,' and slams his foot on the gas.

The car fishtails a bit and the tires squeal as he swerves into traffic, horns honking after him, and he picks a direction at random, going way too fast for this area of town.

His heart is pounding in his chest, worst case scenarios running through his head. He’s going to get car jacked. He’s going to go to jail for being an unwitting getaway driver. But there isn’t any more yelling from the back seat, just heavy, panicked breathing, and he settles into traffic and slows down to a more normal speed before he cuts his eyes up to the rearview mirror.

Time stops.

It’s Stevie.

He can’t believe he didn’t recognize her the second he saw her, but in his defense, it's not like he was expecting to see his ex-girlfriend in a goddamn wedding dress running like she stole something today.

Pure panic wraps tight around his throat as he takes her in - is she hurt? In danger? Nothing good could have had her sprinting away from her own wedding, but it seems like she’s just shaken up.

His heart calms a bit once her tears dry and they get properly on the road.

And shit, it’s so unfair, because she's just as breathtaking as she was the day they split. She looks just as sad, too, which is certainly not how a woman like Stevie Harrington should look on her wedding day. But seeing her in a gown like that - Jesus Christ. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest. It’s like something out of a fantasy, seeing her in the exact kind of dress she used to whisper to him about wanting, the kind of dress he’d once promised to marry her in. Of course, they fell apart before he could even get a ring on her finger, but it still sends his stomach swooping to see the future they’d spoken about come to life.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he can’t help but ask, glancing over his shoulder at her.

“Yeah,” she says, voice high and a little squeaky. “Yeah, I’m totally fine. Just in my ex-boyfriend's car after I left my fiance at the altar, it’s all fine, it’s chill.”

“Okay,” he says haltingly, delicately, because Stevie Harrington is not the kind of person who says it’s chill, “it’s just that, you know, all of that sounds decidedly not chill.”

“This is so chill. It’s the chillest I’ve ever been, actually - hold on–” she says, and next thing he knows a swirl of silk is blocking his view and he sputters a bit as the train of her dress smacks him in the face, but she’s clambering gracelessly from the back seat and over the console to plop down on the passenger side with a loud huff and a cloud of perfume.

It’s different from what she used to wear. She used to smell spicy and warm, with notes of amber and cinnamon. He’d kiss the little spots in her wrists where she’d spritz it on, trace the veins beneath the tan skin with his nose to keep the scent of her with him.

Now she smells like vanilla and something floral, airy and light. Like he stepped into a bakery. It’s not bad, of course it’s not bad, but it’s…different. Not her.

Or not his version of her, anyway.

This is someone else’s Stevie now, and she smells like fucking cookies instead of home.

Instead of commenting on it, he just tells her to put on her seat belt, and she looks at him like he’s an idiot.

“And wrinkle this dress?” she says, her nose curling a little, and God she’s such a bitch and he’s missed it so much.

“I hate to break it to you,” he tells her, “but some wrinkles are not the worst damage that thing has seen today.” There are small grey splotches on the bodice where her makeup dripped as she cried earlier, and the hemline has some muddy staining from her mad dash on the sidewalk. It’s not ruined, but it’ll have to be cleaned, and a couple of wrinkles will be the easiest thing to get out of the formerly pristine fabric.

He glances over at her in time to see her run her hands over the skirt of the dress, smoothing it out over her thighs. It shifts, the leg slit parting to show her skin, teasing at the hint of a crease where her thigh and stomach meet, and Eddie rips his gaze away to stare at the road instead.

“Probably for the best, anyway,” he says, and he feels her eyes latch onto his profile.

“And why’s that?” she asks, and he smirks.

“Well, pure white? C’mon, Stevie, we both know that’s a lie.” He flashes her a wicked grin and she makes an outraged sound, but a small smile is teasing at her mouth even as her cheeks flush.

She kicks off her heels - red bottoms, because of fucking course they are - and slouches in the seat. She pushes herself up, adjusting in the pile of silk and corsetry she’s been strapped into, and he sees the absolute mountain of a rock on her hand, and manages to bite his tongue about it being the gaudiest thing he’s ever seen.

"So who was the lucky guy?" Eddie asks before he can stop himself, and the glare Stevie gives him could cut glass. “Or lucky woman. Person? Far be it from me to deny you your bisexual rights.”

He probably sounds like a jealous asshole, but he can't help it. He's the getaway driver for his one that got away on her fucking wedding day, and he feels like he deserves to ask a few questions.

His hands tighten on the steering wheel as the silence lingers, but eventually, Stevie just groans, letting her head fall back against the headrest dramatically.

"Don't laugh," she demands, and Eddie shakes his head.

"Scout's honor," he promises, and he swears a wry little grin teases at her lips.

“You were never a scout. You would have been kicked out for inciting a riot.”

“Hey, I just ensured we all earned our arson badges, okay? I did every one of those kids a favor.” Stevie scoffs, and it almost sounds fond.

Then she says, “Tommy,” and he almost swerves into oncoming traffic.

"HAGAN?" he says, louder than he means to, and her hand flies up to grab the oh-shit bar.

“Eddie, Jesus!” she says, glaring at him, and he shakes his head, focusing back on the road.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, but fucking - really? “Really?” He can’t help himself. “Tommy Hagan?”

“Yes, really, Tommy Hagan,” she says hotly, like she’s defensive, like she didn’t just leave the schmuck at the fucking altar.

“Well that explains the ring, at least.” She reaches over, smacking at his arm, which, thanks to the aforementioned ring, is probably going to bruise. “Hey, ow!” He glares at her, taking a hand off the wheel to rub his bicep. “Watch it, that thing’s a weapon.”

“Then stop sassing me about it,” she snaps, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms and her face falls into that adorable bitchy little pout he’s always fucking loved, and he looks away again.

He can’t help but glance back over at her left hand. The ring is…certainly something. Giant, square, one big diamond surrounded by other, smaller diamonds, with even more diamonds on the band. It looks heavy and cumbersome and like she’s going to smack it into every wall and door and get it caught in her hair and seriously, he’s pretty sure he’s already got a knot forming on his arm where the thing hit him.

It looks like Tommy walked into the priciest jewelry store he could find and asked for the most expensive ring they had.

It looks like a status symbol.

It doesn’t look like her.

“Apologies, highness,” he says, shaking himself free of his thoughts. It’s not fair to hold her to those standards. He hasn’t spoken to her in years. He can’t know what kind of person she is now.

But there’s still a bone-deep knowing that overtakes him at the feeling of the woman next to him. A sense of deja vu so strong it threatens to knock him over.

A different car, a different time, a different circumstance, but the same person. The same love.

He’d picked a direction at random, but as the streets become more familiar, he realizes he’s heading towards his place. It’s as good as any, he figures, and he shifts lanes, reaching to tap on his phone and shutting down his Uber account.

“You know, I almost expected you’d still be driving that beat up old van,” Stevie says suddenly, and he crows a laugh.

“Ah, Van Halen, you served me well until you almost blew up on the highway,” he says fondly. “Lost her about a year ago. It was tragic. I held a funeral.” She laughs again, shaking her head.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” she says, turning that pretty smile his way, and his heart does a somersault.

“That was a very impressive move back there, by the way,” he tells her, “that shoulder check of that old defenseless businessman?” He whistles. “Haven’t seen anybody move that quick to steal an old man’s ride before, really, it should have been documented.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” she says, but there’s a laugh in her voice, and she brings up her hands to press to her pink cheeks. He can’t help but keep digging.

“No, seriously! And sprinting like that in heels? And in that dress? What’s that thing weigh, like twenty pounds?”

“It’s a dress, not a suit of armor,” she tells him, but her smile is growing, making her eyes crinkle.

“Just saying, it was pretty metal,” he shrugs, and she snorts.

“Well, you would know,” she says, and he ignores the way his face flushes in response. She gives a little sigh, wiping below her eye and frowning at the smear of black on her fingers.

“Here,” he says, reaching across her. His arm brushes her leg as he opens the glove box and he’s so fucking normal about it. He pulls out a few fast food napkins, holding them out to her. “No makeup wipes in here, but that’ll help with the worst of it.”

“Thanks,” she says, and she flips the visor down, tapping a napkin to her tongue to wet it before wiping at the mascara tracks running down her face. “God,” she groans, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn smear, “I look like a raccoon.”

“A very cute raccoon,” he says before he can stop himself. Jesus, Munson, dial it back. “Like the raccoon that’s about to get the best trash in the bin, she doesn’t even have to ask for it.” Stop talking. “The other raccoons are just gonna give it to her, on account of how cute she is.” He’s gonna throw himself into traffic.

“Did you just call me a raccoon on my wedding day,” she asks. Fine, commit to the bit.

“You called yourself a raccoon on your wedding day. I was just agreeing with you,” he replies, keeping his eyes fixed to the road.

Her eyes are on him - he can feel her stare burning into the side of his face, and his cheeks are going pink and blotchy and God, he’s an idiot–

And then she laughs. Not her polite little contained laugh, either, no, this is that loud, wide mouthed laugh that she hates, that makes her shoulders shake and her head fall back. It’s squeaky and hearty and a little obnoxious and he’s always been so obsessed with getting her to let it out, and he can’t help the smug beaming little smile he gives at the sound.

“You’re such an ass,” she says through her laugh, and Eddie can’t help but laugh with her even if it’s at his own expense, because at least she doesn’t look so goddamn sad anymore.

When they finally reach his apartment complex she’s a little more subdued, but the look on her face isn’t totally heartbreaking, and he’ll take what he can get. He comes around to the passenger side to open her door for her and helps her gather the dramatic skirt of her dress to keep it off the pavement as they head towards the stairs, and he knows he looks like an insane person as he carts a bride down the hall, but he just smiles at his nosy neighbors and lets this cement his reputation as the weird as fuck off-putting metalhead he knows they all think of him as.

He feels a little self conscious as he opens the apartment door for her, sweeping an arm dramatically to allow her to enter first. For the first time since she swept into his car, he wonders if this is a good idea. But it’s too late now – Stevie’s giving him a little smile and stepping into his home, and part of him knows this was inevitable. She may not have called him, but he was always going to come if she needed him.

He follows her inside and tries to calm the pounding of his heart, watching her take in his space, struck all over again by her beauty and the impossibility of her standing here, and silently prays he isn’t going to fuck it up all over again.

this was almost even longer, but I figure 2.5k is enough for a part 2! no tag lists, sorry, but part 3 will be here at some point. thank you to everyone who's had a kind word to say about this au these two are very near and dear to me 💕

#steddie #trans steve harrington #transfeminine steve harrington #stevie harrington #runaway bride stevie #my fic #steddie fic

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steveshairychest · 1 year

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Let's pretend that the upside down doesn't exist for a second.

Eddie still befriends Mike, Dustin and Lucas at school, but he doesn't meet anyone else. He knows of Steve Harrington, knows that he used to rule the halls of Hawkins High but, despite Dustin's constant begging for Eddie to meet him, he never really does.

Sure, Steve waved at Eddie whenever he dropped the kids off at hellfire and he offered to change Eddie's flat tire once, but that's it. After Eddie graduated, their paths never really crossed again.

Not until years later when they're both older and wiser and a little bit drunk in a bar far from the prying eyes of Hawkins.

Eddie bumps into a tall woman at the bar and the countless apologies he had ready instantly died on his tongue when she turned around and gave Eddie a dazzling smile. "Hi, Eddie. Didn't think I'd run into you here." She says with a light laugh. She has a really pretty laugh, and smile, and eyes and her hair looks so soft.

It takes Eddie's brain three business days to reconnect and realise that this gorgeous woman knows his name. He hadn't introduced himself, and yet she is smiling down at him like they're old friends.

"I'm sorry, have we met?" He waves over the bartender and orders himself and the mystery girl a drink.

She thanks Eddie for the drink and leans in closer to be heard over the music. "We went to high school together but I've, uh, definitely changed since then." She laughs and it's clear there's some joke he's not getting but he laughs anyways. He doesn't want her to walk away. He needs to know everything about her and he's trying so hard to remember everyone he went to high school with.

"Did we really go to school together? I think I would remember someone as gorgeous as you." He reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear so that he can see her face properly. Her cheeks flush a brilliant shade of red, and she steps closer to him. "What's your name?"

"Stevie." She says softly, her voice a little shaky. "Harrington. My name is Stevie Harrington."

Eddie furrows his brows and takes a step back to really take her in. "I didn't know Steve had a sister."

Stevie throws her head back and laughs, it's a gorgeous sound. Eddie's scared he's fucked up by not remembering that Steve had a sister but then she meets his eyes and there's something there that feels oddly familiar.

"I don't have a sister, Eddie." She says and takes a sip of her drink, her eyes watching over the rim of the glass for Eddie's reaction.

"What -" And then everything finally clicks in his alcohol clouded mind. "Oh. Oh."

He can see it now, he can see that the ghost of someone he hardly knew clings to parts of her; the moles, the pouty lips, the kind hazel eyes. They are all features he used to find himself staring at during school, features he can’t stop staring at now.

"Is that a good oh?" She asks quietly, her hand fiddling with her bracelet nervously.

Eddie motions the bartender for another round of drinks and moves closer to Stevie, a gentle smile pulling at his lips as he says, "Definitely a good oh. I was actually, uh, Edwina before I was Eddie." He pulls his leather jacket aside to point at his bare chest underneath, at his top surgery scars. Stevie's mouth forms a soft 'oh', and the tension in her body leaves as she realises that she's safe, she's with someone like her, someone who understands.

He's never told anyone his dead name before, but he could see the fear in Stevie's eyes, fear that she'd said too much to the wrong person.

All that fear is gone now as she smiles, really smiles, down at him.

There's an excited energy radiating off her as she takes another sip from her drink and bumps her shoulder with Eddie's. "I'm glad you bumped into me tonight." She admits.

"Me, too." Eddie beams up at her, her heels making her tower over him, and he's honestly never been happier.

He hopes that this time, they can maybe be more than just acquaintances.

Maybe even more than friends.

#bi4bi t4t STEDDIE ANYONE ?!#tall girl x short boy my love #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #st4 vol2 #steveddie #t4t steddie #trans eddie munson #trans steve harrington

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