#platonic stobin fic rec
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sapphirecobalt-1 · 2 years ago
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https://archiveofourown.org/works/46804651/chapters/117889981
Title: I’ve said too much, I haven’t said enough
Chapters: 1/?
Word count: ~7,222
Fandom: Stranger Things
Ships: Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley, Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington
Tags:  adhd Eddie, autistic Robin, adhd Robin, deaf Steve, queer platonic steve & Robin, lavender married Steve & Robin, disabled Steve Harrington, disabled Max Mayfield, disabled Chrissy Cunningham, character study, AU - Canon Divergent, AU - Summer Camp, oh my god they were camp counselors, angst, angst with a happy ending, not beta read we die like Billy, tags will be updated as the story progresses
Summary:
It's 1987, and Vecna's been six feet under for over a year.
But even as our heroes try to move on, the havoc Vecna wreaked still haunts them.
Some things just refuse to be buried.
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mojowitchcraft · 2 months ago
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Stobin Girls Night
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Comissioned Emily @/kasphacked on twitter to draw this stobin moment from my fic Acta, Non Verba they're so cute I'm obsessed with them!!
See below the cut for a snippet of the fic and an alternate version of the art ⤵️
"Pshhh, he’s not even that cute,” Eddie lies. Steve is that cute, Eddie was helplessly drawn to him from the moment he saw that swoop of hair three years ago at an Alpha Sig kegger.
Apparently, Eddie walked right into the trap that Chrissy set, because she turns around her phone with a flourish, satisfied smirk on her face. “You sure about that?”
It’s a selfie of Steve and his friend Robin, wearing face masks and cuddly-looking pajamas, both of them have fuzzy pink headbands holding their hair back. Steve looks disgustingly cute, so cute that Eddie lets out an embarrassing little keening noise that he tries to cover with a grunt. 
“I hate you.”
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“Five more minutes,” Robin reminds him with a nudge. 
Steve drops his hand down into his lap, pretending like he wasn’t about to scratch his nose and mess up his hydrating face mask like he always does. When he got to her dorm room earlier she’d brightly announced that he looked tired and started pulling out different options to fix him up. Robin’s all about self-care lately, and frankly, Steve’s skin has never been better, so he trusts her guidance. 
10 Things I Hate About You is playing on Robin’s laptop, and she keeps teasing him for going googly-eyed over Heath Ledger. “Seriously, how did you not realize you were into dudes sooner?” she asks, thwacking him with a pillow as he watches Patrick serenade Kat.
“I’m sure I knew, I just didn’t… know? If that makes sense?” He picks at the mask on his chin where it’s gone all tacky. “I just always liked girls too so I didn’t really notice? I dunno, it’s hard to explain.”
Robin softens immediately. “Don’t worry, I get it. I mean, I always knew I liked girls, but it’s easy to just…” She wiggles her hand like it’s a fish swimming upstream. “Go with the flow.”
They watch the movie for a few minutes before Robin speaks up again. “He looks a lot like Eddie, y’know… I think you have a type.”
“Sure… I guess I do,” Steve snorts.
Read the rest of the fic on Ao3 🧢 🤘
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travelingtwentysomething · 5 months ago
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yearningagain · 6 months ago
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it's enough (to make a girl blush)
HIIII EVERYONE so you know that fic i was asking for a beta reader for?? well i found one!! and i'd like to present the first chapter of it's enough (to make a girl blush), my first SERIOUS fic that i 100% intend on finishing!!
i'd like to thank the amazing @kayleeofcamelot for being my lovely beta reader <3
also on AO3!
wc: 1.1k | rating: e (18+) | pairing: steddie | cw: none | tags: a/b/o, alpha eddie munson, omega steve harrington, modern au, baker steve, famous eddie, getting together, gay eddie, bi steve, soulmates/true mates/scent mates, side buckingham
part two | part three
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"God, fuck- alpha, please ..." Steve begs, sat upon a man's toned, yet lean thigh, grinding and rutting against it as he chased his high. The man chuckled darkly, his hands coming to grip Steve's hips, tight enough that Steve knows there will be bruises, guiding him along roughly.
With barely open eyes, he managed to peek at the hands that would surely leave marks come morning. Dark tendrils of tattoos that stretched from the man’s second knuckle and up his arms. Fingertips calloused and dexterous, nails bitten and paint chipped, and almost every finger has more than two silver rings adorning it, save for his right hands ring finger. No, that finger holds only one ring. An aged, loved, golden band with three small red crystals set in a line.
Small gasps left Steve's lips, every roll of the omega’s hips pressed his cocklette deliciously against the fabric of the omega's thin shorts. Both pants had surely been ruined by the amount of slick that poured out of him, but he couldn't make himself feel bad about it, even if he tried. Something inside him, his omega , told him that the alpha was having just as much fun as he was.
"Ah- ‘M close, alpha..." Steve pants, head feeling pleasantly fuzzy. He could smell how his own scent had changed, the spiced apple scent turning into something heady and thick. Suddenly, he got hit with the most divine scent in the world. Campfire smoke and pine, a hint of petrichor and old books. Home- a whispered thought. It almost sent him over the edge.
Almost.
Then, all of a sudden, everything felt wrong . It was as if he was floating away from his body, his mind a balloon escaping a child's loose clutch. He couldn't smell the alpha, just his own scent turning sour and rotten. The cool sensation of the man's rings where they pressed into bare skin suddenly spread all over, no longer comforting, but as if ice water had engulfed him. Something nagged at him, though, in the back of his mind. Something like a spark, settling into the omega and igniting coals to keep him warm and happy.
And Steve opened his eyes.
Steve glared at himself in the mirror, bare in preparation for a shower. There were no marks, no evidence of anything happening. One more glance over his entire body confirmed that there was nothing left of the alpha. It was a simple wet dream. The only thing that kept him from dismissing the dream entirely was his strong disappointment when he woke up alone, and the low thrum of energy he could feel stemming from his inner omega. (And the slick-soaked sheets he'd have to deal with later.) If he focused hard enough, he could almost hear the whispering rumble of "Mate. Alpha. Mate. Alpha."
He shook himself from his stupor and hopped in the shower. What did it mean, this newfound warmth over someone he'd apparently made up in his mind? Was he really that lonely? No, of course not. 
(Yes. He was.)
After turning over question after question in his mind only to come up blank, he sighed. He'd have to talk to Robin about this. 
Reluctantly set in his decision, he got out of the shower and patted himself dry, threw his hair up in a towel, and put on a fresh pair of sweats. Throwing a glance at his alarm clock, it read 9:57 AM . Robin should be awake by now, hunched over their dinky coffee machine with her eyes still closed and dried drool on her chin. 
It was Sunday, so Robin didn't have class and the bakery Steve worked at, Claudia's Cakes , was closed for the day. He figured he could take her out to lunch. Maybe the deli two doors down from the bakery? He had been having a craving for their Cubano recently. 
Stepping out of his room and shuffling to the kitchen, Steve found Robin exactly like he thought, arms braced on the counter to pillow her resting head. The coffee machine gurgled away, the strong scent mingling with Robin’s earthy strawberry aroma.
"Morning, Robs."
A small groan is all he got in response. He chuckled softly and fetched the sugar and creamer, setting it on the counter next to his best friend's birds nest of bed head. Taking his place at their table, he opened up his phone to check his messages (mostly from Dustin talking about some band he found online).  Soon, Robin slumped into the chair across from him, a mug of coffee placed in front of him as she sipped on her own. Now that she was actually awake, she looked at him with a curious expression.
"What? Do I have something on my face?" Steve asked her.
She hummed, taking a calculating look. "No, nothing on your face. You just... you smell different. Not bad different! Just different, like instead of cinnamon apple cake, you smell like roasted apples. And honey? What's up with that?" 
Steve is surprised she doesn't spill her coffee all over the place with how she flings her arms around, emphasizing her question with a pointed finger and finally slamming her mug down.
"I don't know, dude.” Another glare from her. "I really don't! Anyways, did you want to grab lunch at the deli today? My treat."
Sighing and giving him one last glare, she shrugged. "Yeah, sure. I’ve been meaning to stop by the record store, could we swing by on the way back?”
Steve threw a pointed glance to their overflowing record crate below their old record player, a housewarming gift from Robin’s mom. She huffed in response, crossing her arms and mumbled “I just want to look.”
Crimson painted her cheeks and she avoided his gaze, which was all Steve needed to know. He knew Robin had made a friend (or crush rather) in her music theory class at UIC, and she and Steve were basically some sort of cosmic twins, and he knew all of her tells. So when he asked if he’s finally going to meet her, she really shouldn’t be that surprised. She still looked up at him with wide eyes, dropping her arms to the table. Another pointed look from Steve and she relented, “She told me to stop in when I could because she wants to show me this really cool limited edition vinyl the store got in recently and she looked so pretty when she asked, Steve. She had these pigtails and she was wearing this eyeshadow that made her eyes pop and she was wearing the skirt I told you about, the one with the hearts? Yeah, that one! And her sweater was, like, four sizes too big and she looked tiny! Anyways, how could I possibly say no when she looks like that?! She batted her eyelashes at me, Steve. Don’t give me that look.”
The omega simply sighed, shook his head fondly, and stood up. 
“Be ready in an hour, Buckley.”
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little-annie · 6 months ago
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Thanks to the @strangerthingswritersguild for the prompt and @eyesofshinigami for the brain worm 🪱 our conversation created.
Did you know in fan fic writing the term Rubber Ducking refers to bouncing ideas off of each other/ brainstorming with friends? Well I didn't. I thought it was a sex thing.
From that, this idea was born.
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Rubber Ducking | M | 873 WC | Steddie | Buckingham
It was a cold February night when the first sighting occurred. The air in the apartment had felt different. Charged with an electricity Robin couldn't explain.
Something was happening. And at first she had thought it was an anomaly, then maybe a coincidence. 
But then it kept happening. 
Those black empty eyes met hers and mere hours later the sound of the city was lost to the wails of the night.
It sounded like torture.
Like the stripping of flesh and bones.
But even more horrifically, Robin learned it was anything but.
Sure, there was flesh and bone, but how Steve apparently getting absolutely railed by Eddie in the next room over had any connection to the rubber ducky that ended up on the living room coffee table every so often, Robin hadn't the slightest clue.
She just knew that unfortunately there had to be one.
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A few weeks later, sitting at the breakfast bar and trying to ignore the low hanging neckline of Chrissy's already frankly obscene tank top, Robin notices the presence of yet another rubber ducky.
This one donning a Sailor's hat and suit. Similar to the one she remembers her and Steve wearing in their days at Scoops Ahoy. 
Not twenty minutes later she's met with Eddie asking if she knows where Steve hid his old uniform. Regrettably she tells him, and that night goes to bed taking precautionary measures with foam plugs in her ears.
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The following week there's a light blue ducky on the coffee table instead, then a grey ducky the week after. Then after a few more weeks there's what appears to be a leather daddy ducky. 
Sometimes in between there's a plain normal rubber ducky.
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“You figure it out yet?” Chrissy asks one evening, plopping down onto the couch next to Robin and setting her feet in her lap.
God what she wouldn't do for this girl and her polka dot pink fuzzy socks.
Looking over at the boys who are now apparently disgustingly in love, and currently trading lazy kisses and giggles back and forth in the loveseat, Robin sighs, “Unfortunately.”
She nearly had the code cracked before a drunken Steve had told her what it all meant.
Original Ducky = Someone is horny.
Sailor Ducky (Sir Butterscotch) = Someone wears the Scoops uniform. 
Light Blue (Richard) = Someone wants to give / receive head.
Grey (Bari) = Someone wants to be tied up/do the tying up.
Leather Daddy = "You really don't want to know Robin.”
So essentially flagging, she figures, but with various types of rubber duckys, which is horrific in its own way.
Now when one of them is feeling it, they pick a rubber ducky of their choosing and leave it out on the coffee table as a subtle way of asking for the represented attention.
“Sex Duck,” Robin sighs, leaning her head against the back of the couch, turning to look at Chrissy, “They have a fucking sex duck.”
“Like that show with the sex mug?”
“Like the show with the sex mug.” She answers flatly 
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Sure seeing the ducks at home was bad enough, but when they started appearing in the wild it was so much worse.
First in Steve's car on the dash, then Eddie's van, then one day at work when Eddie came sauntering in and pulled a light blue ducky from his pocket, tossing it in Steve's direction before walking off towards the employees only bathroom.
They think they're subtle, but really they're not.
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It's just another Tuesday evening when a new ducky makes its way onto the coffee table in the living room. Traditional like the first, but donning a pink bow and black painted on lashes. Feminine. Cute.
Like a game, Robin's began trying to decipher the meaning behind every duck before Steve inevitably tells her. It helps her cope with the trauma. 
This one though, makes her wonder. 
Sitting on the couch staring probably a little too intensely at the newest addition to the boys collection, Robin hardly notices when Steve plops down beside her.
She startles when she notices him, his voice catching her off guard. “Whatcha doing?”
“Trying to figure out what kink of yours this little lady represents.”
Steve hums and Eddie joins them shortly after, settling in the rocking chair across from them, giving the ducky the same odd look Robin had been moments ago.
“Whatcha doing, Buck?”
She gestures to the duck, “Figuring out her deal.”
Feminization maybe?
“Chrissy?” Eddie asks
“What?” Robin looks up from those cute long lashed eyes, “No. Your duck.”
Next to her Steve huffs a laugh, crossing his arms and leaning back against the couch. “Not our ducky, Rob.”
What?
“Course it is.”
“Not our ducky, Babe.” Eddie repeats Steve's words.
It has to be. “Well it's not mine.” Robin grumbles.
“No, no Rob it's not.” Steve nudges Robin's knee with his, “Maybe it's meant for you though.”
No.
No?
Looking far too excited, Eddie smirks, “Chris is in her room isn't she?”
Well… it… it wouldn't hurt to check would it? Maybe the boys are just teasing her, playing a game. But on the off chance they're not…
“You gonna go get your girl, Rob?”
Jesus Christ, she's going to, isn't she?
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littlelostbirdy · 7 months ago
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Is my blog becoming a "does anyone have any fic recs" space? Yes. Yes it is.
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queenie-ofthe-void · 4 days ago
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Tainted
Steddie || wc: 6k || rating: E || cws: DEAD DOVE DNE, steve harrington whump, Vampire!Eddie, post break up second chance, sexually explicit, blood (like a lot of blood), chronic pain and illness, recreational and prescription drug use/abuse, heavy angst, EVENTUAL HAPPY ENDING THE COMFORT IS COMING!! || ao3
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Steve pulls the needle from his arm, long since used to the sensation. He expertly applies a cotton ball and bandage over the puncture wound he'll remove as soon as Robin leaves.
She's giving him that look again. The one she always gives him when he's draining. Her lip is swollen from biting, and she won't meet his eyes as he wraps the tubing up and seals the heavy, red medical bag.
He knows she won't say anything. She's done arguing with him about it, mostly because she knows he's done caring what she has to say. So he heads to the garage, where the lone, tall, white freezer stands with a sharpie taped to the side and a log sheet hanging next to it. 
It's only logged a few months back to January. The rest of the monthly sheets are meticulously filed away in his office, going back nine years now. 
Robin's good at bookkeeping, took it upon herself so he could drain at home without having to go into The Lab. She's even better at scheduling his monthly check-ups at the clinic, coordinating his medications, and all-around keeping him upright and arguably functional.
All Steve has to do is bleed, log, and ship.
He doesn't even have to pay for shipping. Eddie takes care of all of those little details– well, Paige does.
Which is nice, since apparently shipping bodily fluids like blood requires a shit ton of caveats for a civilian. But it was pretty easy to heap the exorbitant costs his way, since Eddie's got enough rockstar money and guilt to spare.
Not that Steve blames him. How was Eddie supposed to know that every time he sunk his fangs into Steve's neck, it boiled his blood with a cocktail of toxins? There's no way they could've predicted that their first feeding would doom them both. A love ruined before it even started.
It wasn't a problem for Steve. He tries not to dwell after so many years, but when the nights are long and the pain thrums in his limbs, Steve thinks they could've made it work.
Everyone told him it was the venom, like Eddie was pumping some kind of stupid fucking love poison into his veins, that Steve didn't have real control over his emotions. Eddie was bad for Steve, and everyone agreed– even Eddie.
Steve didn’t, but that didn’t seem to matter in the end. He fell in line, like he always did. Still does.
Steve grabs a styrofoam box from the stack and fills it with dry ice Robin bought at the grocery earlier today. He adds the fresh bag to the "new" shelf, and puts the two bags on top of the "old" shelf into the box, sealing it shut with packing tape and sticking a prepaid shipping label on the top.
According to Robin, it's all monitored by the government and Owens’ team. Steve’s not sure the man's very involved in the whole Hawkins used to be actual hell bullshit anymore, since there's not much left. Beyond his and El's– and presumably Eddie's– annual appointments, there's not much left for him to do.
The world fell apart. Monsters decimated the town. They won, eventually. So Owens and the government fucks off like everything’s back to normal. Except El murdered a man she had once considered a brother, and then unraveled with grief. Max lived, but refused to use her wheelchair, refused to admit she’s blind, refused to get out of bed. And Eddie...
Eddie was the one good thing to happen in the aftermath– once they purged him of Kas. Steve thought he saved Eddie when he captured Kas stalking around in the woods at night. He locked him in the basement, tossing down raw meat and boxes of live rats until Kas became little flashes of Eddie.
Until Steve could figure out what he really needed to become Eddie again. What's a little blood when he's risked so much more in such worse circumstances?
Apparently a lot. Because it fucking ruined his life.
“Wait–” Eddie interrupted Owens’ speech about unknown variables and additional testing– “you’re telling me that his weird bruises and the aches and the awful fucking migraines are because I poisoned him?”
Owens sighed, looking between the floor, Steve tucked into the hospital bed, and Eddie perched next to him, like he could come up with a better answer other than a simple ‘yes’. He couldn’t.
Eddie tried and failed not to cry as Owens explained how the venom in Eddie’s bite wasn’t an aphrodisiac, like they had childishly chalked it up to be. It permanently altered Steve’s kidneys, fucking up some shit in his bones to make him produce too much blood. “Most likely evolved as a permanent, reliable source of feeding–” Owens rambled, until Eddie vomited right onto the floor.
On the plus side, it turned out it was a condition pretty similar to one that already exists, which meant other than his annual appointment with the lab, Steve could do his normal check-ups at the hospital. “You’ll have to take a rigorous schedule of medications, along with at least one blood draw a week– unless Mr. Munson is around to, ah… assist.”
The blood disorder, according to Owens’ results, was a lost cause after the first bite. The bone-deep pain, however, “could’ve been mitigated had Mr. Munson not continued his feedings,” with an unsaid ‘like I suggested’ hanging off the end of his accusation. 
When they’d first brought Eddie in to be checked out, they’d been warned about continuing to feed, something about unknown prognosis, and possible long-term side effects. Steve had fought Eddie hard, and eventually convinced him that it didn’t matter. As long as it meant they kept feeding.
“How could something that feels so right be bad for us, Eds?” Steve whispered into the quiet dark of their room, Eddie curled up naked next to him. He didn’t respond.
Steve should’ve known it was the beginning of the end. Almost two beautiful years together, until the guilt ate Eddie alive. He saved Steve by leaving him and ran as far away as he could.
They haven’t spoken since.
Steve sets the box down on the coffee table only for Robin to scoop it up, with boots on and keys in hand. "It's only two bags this time," Steve says, "Owens took–"
“– the rest for testing. Yes, they already know." He knows she's not irritated, but the pity in her eyes grates on his nerves even though she’s still not looking at him. He knows it's there. The smell of pity is as ripe as the metallic tang in the air.
He walks her to the door. She spins back around to face him, lips pursed with a finger in the air. "I forgot to mention," she lightly taps him on the nose, and she giggles when he shakes her off like an annoyed dog, "I put the new bottle of serum Paige sent yesterday in the fridge for you. I saw you were low and figured it'd save time on thawing a new one."
She turns back towards the foyer, on her way out the door when Steve calls out "The fresh one? What about the one from last week, won't that expire?"
His concern is waved off with a shrug and not even a glance over her shoulder. "Christmas is only three days away, you deserve the good stuff." Steve's thin laugh barely has time to sour when she shouts, "I'll be back with Vickie in a few hours for dinner," as she closes the door behind her. 
Steve considers holding off on his next dose until Robin and Vickie leave for the night. Instead, he heads into the kitchen, pulling the small, brown, glass vial out to warm in his hand. Steve hasn't dosed venom– serum, as Robin calls it, like a name means all the difference– cold since the first time, and he'll never do it again.
The chronic pain of withdrawal from Eddie's toxin isn't nearly as bad as the permanent blood disorder because of it, but it's not easy. On the best days, it's an annoying ache in his limbs. The worst days leave him immobile in bed, burning from the inside out.
Steve misses the heavy blossom of euphoria coursing through him with each bite, almost two bottles worth of doses equal to one feeding. He misses the sudden relief of tension, leaving his body molten, unfiltered lust filling out his cock so fast he almost passes out.
Except nine years ago today, Eddie curled up next to him in the back of Steve's new pick up. The sky was dark but clear, the air frigid with a light snowfall. Hot little puffs of weed smoke poured from between their lips. It was one moment of a thousand between them where the electricity was so palpable it left him buzzing. The only difference, however, was that Eddie finally closed the distance with a kiss. 
His lips felt like coming home. The slide of his soft, warm tongue against Steve's was a claim of not just hunger or desire. It was love, companionship. Life. 
They lasted five minutes before they fed and fucked. But then later Eddie crawled into his bed, moved all his stuff in the next day, and never left.
Until he did, of course.
Steve calls Robin to tell her he's tired. She must know he's lying, but Steve argues and she caves, agreeing to see him tomorrow instead. Robin knows what today means to him. Normally, he’d be thankful for how much she cares, how much she worries about him. It’s still nice to finally spend today, of all days, alone.
Steve props the small bottle, now warmed to room temp, on the coffee table in front of him as he settles into the couch. He did as much as he could to change out everything in his apartment when Eddie left. Not that it was contaminated, just tainted– like everything they once shared is now. 
The couch is Steve's favorite by far. Nothing fancy, only a simple blue sofa with fluffy armrest for him to lay his head on. He sleeps better here than his own bed most nights. It's a love seat, but he's always slept curled up anyway.
There are two little drawers in the old, wooden coffee table—the one on the right holds just enough storage for remotes and other small trinkets. Steve opens the one on the left. He sets a black box next to the large rubber tie next to the syringe next to the unwrapped needle next to the little brown vial.
But Robin's right. It's almost Christmas. It's his ex-anniversary. He's doing so well at the firm that his dad clapped him on the shoulder and offered him a glass of his personal whiskey. And he hates all of it.
Steve doses half the vial. It's not lethal, not even dangerous. The venom can't do more damage than it already has. It only layers more and more blankets of relief over him until he’s lulled back into the euphoria-filled lust he's craved for years.
The buzz hits him instantly. Steve knows what's coming, so he strips off his clothes and moves to the floor. His skin glistens with sweat before he pulls his last sock off, tossing it on the couch. Desperate heat rolls through his chest, settles in his gut. 
Steve’s cock twitches, untouched, as he fumbles to open the black box. A pathetic whine escapes him looking at the set of homemade toys inside, nothing like the basic dildo and cockrings upstairs in his nightstand.
You always were a sad little slut for me, sweetheart.
He moans in the quiet of his living room. Fingers trembling, he sets the box down and pulls out his first indulgence. An oversized dildo, almost an exact replica. Pale, matching skin-tone at the balls and base, fading up into a dark black at the swollen tip. It even includes the silver, metal ball pierced just under the head.
A gift. Steve tries not to cry just looking at it.
One of the first things Eddie spent his big-time rockstar money, having his giant fucking monster dick molded just for Steve. It was one of the last gifts he ever gave him. Except the weekly shipments of venom, which Steve doesn't count. 
It's a toy he rarely uses but fails to forget about. 
He mounts it on the side of the coffee table before he preps himself. It taunts him, mocking his desperation as he hastily shoves two fingers into where he’s hollow. The angle’s all wrong, lube spilling over his wrist, dripping down his forearm and onto the carpet beneath him. 
He should get comfortable, lay down on his back instead of staying on all fours, but Steve’s skin is too tight for his bones. He’s shaking, sweating with lust and he just needs some fucking relief. Just needs something for once in his fucking life to feel good again, to go right again, after everything went so fucking wrong.
A tear slips free as he lines up and spears himself on a toy that isn’t Eddie, but feels so painfully close. Rocking himself back until he feels the balls pressed against him, he rides the toy hard enough to jostle the table with each thrust. 
It’s not the easiest position. He should’ve pushed the table up against the couch next to him, or laid a soft blanket on the floor to protect his now burning hands and knees from the carpet. Steve knows he should slow down. He's not relaxed enough, hasn’t prepped well enough if the pain means anything. 
It doesn't. Pain means nothing when drops of Eddie course through his veins.
You're so tight, baby. Feel so fucking good on my cock. Look at you Stevie, crying, you're so desperate for me.
Steve swipes the back of his hand across his damp cheeks. It leaves a streak of lube he hadn't seen through his blurred vision, but he doesn't care. Better than tears, anyway.
Frustrated, Steve rummages the box again and pulls out a similarly colored fleshlight. Fingers shaking, he barely manages to keep hold of the bottle as he coats the inside with an excessive amount of lube. He closes his eyes, slows his fingers into a firm roll.
Fuck Stevie, love your fingers deep inside me.
Steve tries to remind himself this isn't real. It's all plastic and silicone and a ghost of a voice in his head.
The sentiment is lost as he slips the swollen, red tip of his cock inside. He curls forward, bracing his weight on his head and shoulder. Steve screams as the dildo finally punches his prostate. Lightning sparks down his spine, sending him into a frenzy.
It's everything he denies himself because no one feels like this. How can anyone ever wonder why Steve's relationships always fail when this pathetic display is better than any fuck he can find? Because there is no moving on from Eddie, not really.
So Steve revels in Eddie's name on his tongue and the metal ball driving into his prostate and the wet, slick sound of fucking into what he pretends is Eddie's tight little hole until he's sobbing. He's close. Tension coils deep in his gut. Snot drips from Steve’s nose as his sobs echo in an empty home, but it's no use. It’s not enough. He needs more, knows exactly what he needs, and he hates himself for it.
Relief still sits in the box. A small metal contraption Steve managed to create all on his own, lost in the worst of his depression. It looks back at him with the same disappointment it does every year.
Two old mouth guards he wore for football, wired together at the back and molded just big enough for Steve to slip his fingers into the teeth-shaped grooves. He rubs the pads of his fingers over the smooth, metal nail heads, sharp tips pierced through the other side. 
He keeps trying to remind himself it's not real. They're not his fangs. There's no swipe of a tongue across his skin or lips suckling at his neck. It's not Eddie. But he can pretend it is, just for tonight. 
Writhing with anticipation, he pours a bit of the venom in the bottom of the box. Steve opens the fanged-jaws wide and coats the two nails fused into the top and the two on the bottom. He jostles the box as he fucks Edd– the dildo– faster, drops of venom splashing the carpet. Tension coils low in his gut and it takes all of Steve’s willpower to wait. Wait until the nails are completely covered, dripping fat, clear drops into the box. 
Tongue lolling out of his mouth, Steve holds the fangs above him, head tipped back as the venom drips down into his mouth. Another sob morphs into a guttural moan and he knows he’s out of time.
It’s been almost a decade but Steve still knows where his favorite place to feed was, so he lines up the bite. Except just the tips of the nails against his skin sends Steve careening over the edge.
The empty house is filled with Steve's screams as he comes . With his last remaining brain cells and a firm grip, he closes the metal contraption into his throat, plunging the nails inside.
Mine to bite, to drink, to love. Only mine, forever.
"Fuck, Eddie, yes. Only yours. Fuck–"
The injected venom rips out another orgasm, almost painful in its intensity. Come spills out of the warm, hollow toy that isn't Eddie and onto the floor, adding to the mess of lube that drips from his throbbing hole as he pulls out the other toy that also isn't Eddie. 
Exhausted, Steve has just enough of mind to grab the blanket draped across the couch behind him before he passes out.
~~~
Part 2 coming soon! ao3
Header graphic kudos!
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forestmossling · 1 month ago
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oh my god. oh my F U C K I N G GOD?????
this is amazing. this is STUNNING.
you know you’re about to have your shit blown when a stranger things fic has a reference list several paragraphs long after every chapter.
after reading the premise i wasn’t sure this was going to be my cup of tea but i’m SO glad i ended up staying, because boy, was i very very wrong.
the plot is plotting, the narration is narrating, the characterization is characterizationing and characterizationing HARD, relationships are relationshipping like nobody’s business. this is absolutely beautiful and mesmerizing and captivating and just endlessly cool and neat in every conceivable way.
i’ve been going through something shitty recently, interpersonal relationship-vise, and all the little tidbits of these characters’ relationships with each other resonated so deeply with me, even if my situation was in no way even close to anything going on in the fic. there was everything i always wanted for myself but never got, all the worst shit i’ve ever felt, and so so much more and the entire thing kinda healed me but also probably fucked me up a little bit. but, like, in a good way.
and steddie’s love is so profound and tangible, in all the little details and all the big dramatic things and i just want to weep and smile and scream and like. whatever. good for them.
i truly feel blessed by the fact that such skilled and cool people are obsessed with the same characters and shows as me and i get to experience beautiful stories like these thanks to them. i guess there are still good things in this world worth living for, huh.
@alivingfire, my sincerest gratitude to you for this masterpiece, this shit SLAPPED. 938364625141628400472624629010173564902010986364437910100171554881010909099/10, am recommending.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/51725794
(if the link isn’t linking it’s he’ll see i’m not so tough by alivingfire on ao3)
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qprstobin · 2 years ago
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Stobin Different First Meeting AU where they go to prom together. This was meant to be an au post and turned into a mini fic oops (written completely within a tumblr post so sorry for the poor quality)
(edit: realized I should link the fic I was inspired by for those who don't follow me and so didn't see me reblog it earlier)
Steve doesn't necessarily want to go to prom, right? Like yeah, he'd been imagining it for a while, but now that he was very, very single it just didn't have the same shine that it used to. And he really wasn't ready to start dating yet. However, he didn't want to just, not go to prom, and also knew it would seem really weird (and pretty fucking sad) if he didn't go.
Which leaves him in a conundrum.
He thought for a while that maybe he would go with one of the junior cheerleaders. While he didn't have any close friends anymore, he was still friendly with plenty of people. There were girls that wouldn't be going to prom unless they had a senior boyfriend - some he had even gone on dates with in the past who wouldn't think a single prom date meant that he wanted a new girlfriend.
However, he is pretty sure most of those girls would have... other expectations for the night. And honestly? He isn't quite sure that he was ready to get back on that horse either.
... Not that he thought women were horses.
He's pretty sure men are normally the ones called horses in riding metaphors.
Anyway.
That left him stuck. He couldn't just not go to prom, but also didn't want to wind up trapped on an actual date with someone. So who could he ask?
His solution ended up coming from an odd place.
Robin Buckley was... quite honestly, kind of a weirdo.
She was cute, in an alternative sort of way. She never took any of his shit (he wasn't completely sure she even liked him) but also reluctantly laughed at the snarky shit he said under his breath during their Film History class. And not in the fake giggly way girls did when they were flirting, but didn't actually care about what he was saying, just the way he said it. She actually seemed to think he was funny. Even if that revelation seemed to piss her off.
The only reason he was even in Film History that semester - and therefore, knew who she was - was for the easy A. He got to watch movies in class, and watch movies for homework. He was willing to plow through a couple of shitty essays in exchange for a class that he didn't feel like a complete idiot in.
(Well, he was pretty sure Robin thought he was an idiot about movies, but just because he had trouble remembering the names and shit of characters, didn't mean he couldn't analyze the themes, fuck you very much, Buckley.)
They had gotten assigned a project together early on, and it hadn't been completely terrible. She had quickly taken over doing most of the writing portions, but hadn't thought all of his ideas were terrible. By the end of the project he thought they were even sort of having fun together.
He'd always been one to try his luck, take a little more than he was given. So, after that assignment was over, he started sitting next to her in class, not wanting that easy, if sharp, camaraderie to end. Robin rolled her eyes at him and asked him what he thought he was doing the first time he did it, but she never sent him away.
They ended up chatting more and more during down times, passing notes to each other and sharing sly comments under their breaths during the movies. Steve often had trouble paying attention at school, his mind easily wandering away, and it was almost as bad during most movies, but Robin helped keep him on track.
The class turned into one that was done for the easy grade, a last ditch effort to improve his already hopeless GPA, and became one he actually enjoyed.
The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of going to prom with Robin. It made the night seem a little less unbearable.
He thought about making a big deal out of asking her, because he knows that's what girls (and even Nancy) had enjoyed for past dances. He quickly scrapped that idea, however, because not only did he not want to put pressure on her like that, but also she seemed to hate public spectacles like that.
Or at least when aimed at her, they both enjoyed watching drama unfold in the halls a bit too much to say she hated it completely.
So Steve waits until the end of the day, their film class being their last, to pull her into an empty classroom. She follows him without question in a show of trust he didn't realize she had in him. The notion warms him, and for some reason makes it more difficult to get the question out.
"Why do I feel like you're about to try to sell me drugs or something?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He squints at her in offense.
"Why is that your first assumption?!"
"I don't know! Why else are you pulling me out of the hallway all secretive like, making sure no one followed us, into an abandoned classroom," she asks, throwing her arms into the air.
"The classroom isn't abandoned, it's the end of the day! Also, who does drug deals on campus, that's just stupid?" He asks rhetorically, before waving one hand through the air, as if trying to erase the current thread of conversation. "That doesn't matter, you're distracting me."
"Well then, get on with it! Some of us have practice we need to get to."
"It's like talking to the kids," he mutters to himself, "Whatever. I wanted to ask - will you go to prom with me?"
That stops Robin up short. There's panic in her eyes now, though Steve isn't sure what exactly put it there. Was his reputation that bad that even band geeks are terrified of getting asked out by him?
"You want to go on a date? With me?" she asks slowly, disbelief coloring her voice, though it doesn't hide her unease.
"No, I want to go to prom with you," he scoffs, "Not go on a date with you."
"That is a date, dingus! The person you go to prom with is literally called your date!"
"Okay, sure, maybe, but I don't actually want to date you," he said, rolling his eyes at her.
Like, okay, he understood his reputation for being... what did she call him last week? A 'huge effing rake'? But that didn't mean that he was trying to date any girl that looked in his direction. A lot of girls looked in his direction. That was too many women, even for him.
Robin relaxes a little at that.
"Then why are you asking me to prom instead of someone you actually want to date?"
"Because!" he says, resisting the urge to flail his hands back at her. "I don't want to date anyone right now. Most people I ask are going to expect all these things from me - they're going to want dinner, and at the very least a kiss at the end of the night if not more, or another date the very next day. Because Steve Harrington is supposed to want those things!" He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair to calm himself. "But right now? I really don't."
"Well then, what does Steve the Hair Harrington actually want?" She had relaxed fully at this point, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.
"I want to go to prom with someone I consider a friend, someone who makes me laugh," he says after a moment of silence. "I want to dance badly to really corny pop music and drink just enough spiked punch that I don't remember how much I hate wearing any sort of tie. Then I want to go get milkshakes or go see a really trashy midnight horror flick, just because I'm having so much fun I don't want the night to end."
That small smile has grown into a reluctant grin on Robin's face. It makes her eyes shine and her freckles pop. Steve thought that if he was in a better place, if they had met at a different time, he could have fallen in love with her.
But they had met now instead, in some shitty public school elective course, and she was the closest thing he had to a friend that wasn't a snotty middle schooler.
"That sounds... like a lot of fun, actually," she says, mischief sparking on her face. "Who would've known the hidden depths hidden behind all that hair."
"Hey!" he protests half-heartedly, unable to keep a grin of his own off his face. "So what do you say? Wanna go to prom with me?"
"I guess," she sighs, acting like it was such a trial to go to prom with him. Him! But her next words make up for it. "Since we're friends, and all. However, I still expect you to buy me dinner, though you can keep the kiss goodnight to yourself."
Steve can't help the giddy laugh from spilling out of him. For the first time in weeks, he is actually looking forward to prom.
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steddieunderdogfics · 25 days ago
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The One Where Robin Finds Out by oakenorcrist is a very cute F.R.I.E.N.D.S inspired fic.
the one where robin finds out by oakenorcrist
@oakenorcrist
Rating: G
3,423 words, 1/1 chapters
Archive Warning: No Warnings
Tags: Platonic Stobin, outsider pov, POV Robin Buckley, Secret Relationship, Fluff, Inspired by an episode of Friends, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Post-Season/Series 04, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson
Summary:
Steve coughs, “hm, yeah, Eddie, what a coincidence, I can’t believe you’re also going to Lake Michigan,” he adds, weirdly. They’ve now said Lake Michigan so many times the words have started to lose meaning. She thinks there’s a word for that, for when you say something so many times it starts to sound super weird, but she can’t for– semantic satiation! That’s what it is, she thinks, with a sigh of relief. That was going to bug her all day for sure. “It sure is, but I can’t control where the fish are, Steve,” Eddie says all innocent-like. So weird, they’re both being so weird! or, Robin is annoyed that both Steve and Eddie are going on trips during the weekend, leaving her to her own devices back in Hawkins. She's shocked to find that those trips are not what they appeared to be.
Thanks for the rec!
Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks!
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lavenderstobins · 3 months ago
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Hellooo, since you’re the prophet on all things stobin lololol I thought I’d ask if you had any fic recs for stobin meeting pre s3/alternate meeting??? Sorry if this is random I just love these kinds of fics and there seems to be a lack of them in the fandom !! Love your writing btw <3 <3
Hello! You have certainly come to the right place <3 sorry for the delay and ty!!
Stobin Alternate Meeting Fic Recs
Twin Souls by Gotllphi (unfinished but so good)
Rumour Has It by Mia_writes (AU)
here and wherever you are by thelanguageoflovers (not stobin centric but they're they're a big focus)
part time soulmate, full time problem by sargeantwoof
revenant by maalaaviikaa (fair warning this one is soul-crushing)
Here's some from the prompt 'alternate meeting' for Stobin Month:
The Adventures at Hawkins Park by Beachfckerblake
we had each other (that was all) by sam_writes_fics (first chapter)
Don't I Know You...? by ImpulsiveWeaver
Just To See A 1980s Horror Film by Beetective_Holmes
I Belong With You (You Belong With Me) by Beetective_Holmes
It Was A Bad Idea by Beetective_Holmes
He Sets the Tone by merry_magpie
Also here are two of mine:
leave the speaker on and stay (robin and steve meet a little while after barb's funeral in 1984)
tonight i'll dream while i’m in bed (robin and steve meet as kids in a park)
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steddilyfallingdeeper · 1 year ago
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I thought about writing this myself, but don’t think I could do it justice.
Steddie fic. Based on ‘All The Pretty Girls’ by Fun. I just feel like there’s so much potential for the usual Eddie fare of “but Steve could date all these beautiful women” and Steve being fully “fuck off, I want you” ALL THE PRETTY GIRLS CANT MEASURE TO YOU dumbass
Or
Steve’s realisation that he keeps striking out, because he talks about Eddie so fucking much, and none of the women he tries it on with are good enough, maybe even a “if only Eddie were a woman, I’d jump his bones, it’s not like he’s even unattractive as a guy, he’s fucking gorgeous, and I just want to spend every minute with him, I really wish I wasn’t straight… oh” Robin just nodding slowly as he works it out.
Anyway, if anyone’s looking for something to write. Please.
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bipunkharrington · 2 years ago
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I need stories where Steve accidentally outs himself because he's unable to resist the opportunity to make a terrible bi joke please
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goodolefashionedloverboi · 11 months ago
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Do you like Corpse Bride? Do you like Steddie? Well I've got just the thing for you!
I just finished reading With This Ring by Undreaming, (@undreaming-fanfiction) it was amazing. It's got pianist Steve, it's got background Ronance, and its got a talking cat!! You'll enjoy yourself :). It's T and up, so pretty much anyone can enjoy this, too!
It's the first time I do something like this, and I don't know if anyone will see this, but I do know that sharing is caring! Buh-Bye <3
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yearningagain · 6 months ago
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it's enough (to make a girl blush): chapter two
HELLO!!! welcome to chapter two! i'm amazed at the traction that this has gained with just the first chapter, and it's giving me so much motivation to continue this!
i've also decided to open up my ask box for suggestions for rambles and ficlets, so please shoot me a message if you feel so inclined!
and of course a huge thank you to @kayleeofcamelot for betaing and helping me so much!! without further ado!
also on ao3!
total wc: 2.6k | wc: 1.4k | rating: e (18+) | pairing: steddie | cw: none | tags: a/b/o, alpha eddie munson, omega steve harrington, modern au, baker steve, famous eddie, getting together, gay eddie, bi steve, soulmates/true mates/scent mates, side buckingham
part one | part three
--------------
Steve loved Robin more than he thought he could love anyone. She was the peanut butter to his jelly, the rock to his roll, the yin to his yang. He doesn't know how he managed as long as he did before meeting her, and he frankly doesn't know what he would do without her now. 
That being said, sometimes she does make Steve want to give himself another concussion. 
Lunch at the deli had been uneventful. They had eaten their sandwiches while nestled in the window booth in the back corner, turned to look out onto the streets of Chicago. Most of their conversation was driven by judgmental comments about passerby’s, ranging from jabs about interesting color choices on someone's tracksuit to monologues about wearing a faux fur coat with cheetah print leggings (“It’s the principle, Rob! You wouldn’t get it”).
After finishing their meals, the pair made their way across the street to the record store. Upon entry, Steve was surrounded by deep earthy scents, old vinyl and incense mingled with the fresh flowers growing in pots littered about. And that brought them to their current situation.
Robin was making a complete and utter fool out of herself. She was bright red in the face, and Steve couldn’t tell if it was from pure mortification or her complete lack of breathing for the past five minutes. As soon as a little blonde omega, introduced as Chrissy, emerged from the shelves to greet them and show them around, the alpha had not been able to stop her mouth from running and running. Now, normally in these situations, Steve would insert himself into Robin's one sided conversation and slow her down, purely to rescue the other person from being roped into a woven tale of at least six subjects at once. But after one look at Chrissy, and the adoration and attentiveness in her expression, he decided to leave it be. 
At the back corner of the shop was a small gathering of armchairs, a loveseat, and a small wooden coffee table. Plopping down into the comfiest looking chair, leaving the girls to their own devices, Steve pulled out his phone to start tackling the sea of messages he had received during the night. 
Dusty
12:58 AM: STEVE
STEVEN
12:59 AM: STEVEN HARRINGTON
STEVEN LOUISE HARRINGTON
1:01 AM: do you even love me anymore
1:08 AM: if i were dying i'd be dead by now
1:14 AM: ☠️☠️🩸🩸
1:27 AM: okay whatever goodnight steven text me when you’re  alive again ig 🙄
11:39 AM: Jesus Christ kid
That’s not even my name
11:40 AM: Did you die?
11:41 AM: no
11:41 AM: So what was so important?
11:43 AM: before i say anything i want to remind you that  i know all of your secrets and also you love me sooo much  and you’re the best babysitter ever and you owe me for  letting my mom hire you at the shop
11:44 AM: Dustin. What did you do.
11:44 AM: nothing!
i didn’t do anything i swear on my mother
11:45 AM: Okay…
So…?
11:46 AM: my favorite band is playing here next month but its an 18+ show
mom would never come with me, she’d have a heart attack i think
so i need you to take me
11:48 AM: i can pay for your ticket if you want!
11:50 AM: steve?
A loud crash echoed from within the shop, followed by an extremely disheveled Robin popping her head into the nook. "I need your help."
Leaving the girls was both the best and worst decision Steve could have made. 
In the ten minutes of inattentiveness, the alpha had managed to talk for seven of them consecutively. After realizing she had been talking herself in circles, she tried to reign it in, which ultimately ended in her accidental confession of attraction towards Chrissy. That then led to a kiss-turned-make-out, in which Robin had tried to push the shorter girl against a wall for more leverage. However, blinded by her circumstances, she pushed the omega into one of the shelves, effectively knocking it and its contents to the ground. They were old antique shelves that had been modified with basket-drawers to store records and other miscellaneous objects, they were heavy . 
Steve would be upset, but the dark blush and lovesick smile never quite left Robin's face. 
With that mess dealt with, he was finally able to respond to Dustin. He shot a quick 'Sure. Just LMK the deets ' text and slid his phone back into his pocket. Chrissy led them both back to the nook, bustling about and making sure they were comfortable.
"Steve, I am so incredibly sorry about that! Please sit here, let me go grab something and I'll be right back!" She dashed off down a small hallway towards the back of the building.
Steve shook his head at Robin, sighing loudly. "Couldn't keep it in your pants?"
The alpha huffed and looked away. She huffed again, this time more of a sniff. And then again. 
"Steve, are you fucking with me or something?"
Furrowing his eyebrows, he followed suit in her actions by taking his own sniff of the air. "What? What's going on?"
She continues sniffing, seemingly following the scent. Standing from her spot on the loveseat, laser focused on tracking, she walks right over to Steve.
"Your scent, it's changing. I knew it was different this morning! I know what you smell like, dingus. And you don't smell like you anymore. Well, okay, you still smell like you! But it's like you're roasting apples in the woods on a camping trip. And you've always smelled like apples, so I'm glad that's the same, but now it's different. Has anything weird happened lately? Have you felt different at all? Do you have a fever?" Her curiosity morphs into concern and she starts placing her hands over the omegas face, seeing if she can tell the temperature. "I've never been good at this. Should we go to the doctor? Do we need an ambulance? Shit, did you get poisoned?"
Steve grabbed her hands firmly, guiding them to his chest and taking a deep breath. "Breathe. I'm not dying, Robs. I think I'd know if I was." He takes a few more measured breaths, pulling her down into his lap for a hug. 
After he was sure she was calm, he relaxed his grip, but didn't let go. "I was actually meaning to ask you about something. Nothing bad, I promise! I just... I had this really weird dream last night and I woke up convinced it had actually happened. I was so convinced there would be physical proof, but there wasn't any. But I could smell the alpha in my dream. Have you ever had a dream where you could smell the other people?"
Robin looked at him calculatingly, a crease forming in her brow at the thought. "No, never. I didn't think it was a thing that happened."
"Exactly. I could smell him, birdie. I could feel him. It was real . Until it wasn't. I woke up heartbroken. For no real reason." He sighed once more, lowering his gaze to his fingers rested in his lap.
"Okay, I am so sorry once again, and I had no intention to eavesdrop whatsoever, but I want to help." Chrissy emerged from the hallway with a plate of mini cupcakes, a sheepish expression. 
Steve waved her off. "It's all good. If you don't think I'm crazy, I don't mind suggestions."
She set the plate of cupcakes onto the coffee table and sat down on the loveseat. Robin quickly scrambled off of Steve to sit next to the other omega, shooting him an apologetic glance. 
"So, basically, I read this book once, out of pure curiosity, that was about fate and the universe and all that. It had a whole section about how, years and years ago, alphas and omegas were randomly going through what seemed to be second presentations. It started with scent changes, and apparently a lot of people experienced some sort of initial mental connection. These changes were way less severe, and oftentimes not noticeable until a random heat or rut was triggered. When that would happen, it was always a pair at a time, one alpha and one omega. The moment they would smell the other for the first time is the moment their respective presentations would complete. They'd come out the other side bonded and, most often, pupped. Their bodies were preparing."
Steve stared at Chrissy, mouth agape. "Preparing for what, exactly?"
"Their soulmate!"
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art-emisz · 2 years ago
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steve and robin in their cowboy candy corral uniforms from @lesbianrobin's like a cowgirl's dream because the image just would NOT leave my brain
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