#verse: stranger things.

[coastercrushed]

@resplendentdare sent in: you’re fucking adorable and adorably fuckable.

he can't help but grin, reaching up to push her hair behind her ear from where he was laying. "can't say i've heard adorable and fuck used twice in the same sentence before," he can't help but let out a lighthearted laugh. "especially about me," a pause. "unless you count cheeky fuck,"

[strawberryyyenthusiast]

Eddie, who becomes so in tune with Steve it’s actually crazy. Steve lovingly dubbed it as his “Stevie-Senses,” which Eddie loves and robin hates. Robin calls him a glorified service dog.

Steve’s blood sugar is low? Eddie brings over a juice box or a blue airhead.

Steve’s blood sugar is skyrocketing? Eddie nudges him and asks is he needs a correction.

Eddie even has the app on his phone that is connected to Steve’s pod so he can see where Steve’s levels are at even when they’re apart.

Eddie keeps the packet that Steve made for him on his person at all times, even though he doesn’t need it anymore. He keeps the needles, strips, alcohol wipes, and the monitor in a little pouch.

When Eddie is performing, he makes sure that there are a shit ton of snacks for him, as well as water and a place for him to relax if he needs to.

Steve has never felt so loved and so seen before, which helps solidify Robin’s endearment and approval for the couple.

[charlesoberonn]

I'm all for gay stuff too but you don't gotta be misogynistic about it.

[spicycinnabun]

“Steve, something is wrong with Christofern!” Eddie entered Steve’s room, cradling the potted plant in his arms.

He’d come home after work, ready to greet his bud-dy, but one look at him had made Eddie gasp. His leaves were shriveled up like sad little green raisins. Usually, they were puffed up like oversized Rice Krispies.

Christofern had been Robin’s, originally. It had been in a very sorry state on her windowsill before she’d left for college—a lot worse than it looked now, under Eddie’s care, thank you—and she’d told him, “I honestly can’t stand the thing. You keep it. It sheds worse than my aunt’s Great Pyrenees, and I’m tired of vacuuming. Just don’t throw it out, or Steve might murder you.”

And that had been that.

Christofern didn’t look like a typical house plant. He wasn’t a fern, which Steve kept reminding him. Steve was more practical. He didn’t give his plants names but called them by their designated labels.

Christofern was a Donkey’s Tail, or sedum morganianum, part of the succulent family. That term meant absolutely nothing to Eddie unless it was referring to a big bowl of pasta—he had no idea there was a whole plant category called delicious.

“But maybe he wants to be a fern, Steven,” he’d argued. “Ever thought of that? He doesn’t have to be a succulent just because he was assigned so at birth.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” had been Steve’s reply.

At first, Eddie had enlisted Steve’s help purely because he’d wanted his attention, and talking about plants was an easy as hell way to get Steve’s attention. Steve was a very passionate plant dad. But later, Eddie grew to love Christofern, and the trials and tribulations of learning how to care for him were almost like raising his own child.

Christofern had not just one but seven long, thickly spiked green tails. Seven tails. He reminded Eddie of a mutated dragon. He was adorable but occasionally grumpy and high-maintenance, like a certain someone Eddie knew. (Perhaps Christofern was more of a prince than a dragon—a dragon prince?)

If he didn’t get enough sunlight, his leaves shed, and he wilted. If he wasn’t rotated daily, he got yellow and sunburnt. And if he didn’t get enough water…

“I swear I watered him... uh, recently.” When had Eddie last watered him? Not the day before, but maybe Wednesday? Or had it been Tuesday? Shit. Eddie pouted. “I just gave him a drink now, anyway. It’s not too late, is it, Doctor Steve?”

He clasped his hands and watched Steve’s attentive eyes rove over his plant, waiting for the diagnosis.

“Eddie, how could you neglect Christofern like this? I should call Plant Protective Services.” Steve grabbed his hand, startling Eddie and his overactive heartbeat.

He took Eddie’s index finger and pushed it into Christofern’s soil right down to his second knuckle. It felt inappropriate. Eddie made a noise, appalled. “Steven, why are you making me violate Christofern?”

Steve ignored him. “What do you feel? The soil is soaked down there, isn’t it?”

Eddie wiggled his finger. It felt goopy. “Yes,” he admitted.

“You’ve overwatered it,” Steve chastised. “Now, the leaves might rot instead of rehydrating themselves. You’ve got to make sure you don’t drown it. Christofern only needs a moderate amount of water every two weeks, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie said meekly. “I’m sorry, Christofern.”

Steve pulled his finger out of the soil and gave him a look bordering on amusement. “Leave him with me for a few days, and I’ll get him back to where he should be.”

“Thank you, Doctor Steve. How can I ever repay you?” Eddie imagined repaying Steve with his mouth, his tongue, his hands (after he washed the soil off)…

“You can clean the bathroom,” Steve said.

Eddie’s fantasy shattered. He whined. “Does it have to be that?”

“Yup.”

“Damn it, Steve, just make me suck your dick next time,” Eddie grumbled on his way out.

He missed the way Steve’s jaw dropped.

[hippielittlemetalhead]

Part 3 (One of Us) of 'Never Took The Time (To Forget)' previously known as 'Hopper Adopts Steve But Make It Sad'

Part 1 (Hop fucks up), Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce Edition), part 3, Part 4.1 (With a Capital 'P'), Part 4.2 (Robin's Boy), Part 5 (Man Of The Hour)

Here's a bit more for you filthy animals 😘

Much like he's come to expect from the small soldiers these children have fashioned themselves into he's not surprised when they come pouring out of whichever of the twins' rooms they shoved themselves in like codependent sardines. He's not surprised by the looks of anger and disappointment and confusion. Claudia Henderson's kid -Dustin- looks on the edge of tears with a grim set to his mouth that reminds him of when the kid's mom is beyond words in her slow-burning fury. El and Will have matching looks of disappointed confusion.

What he's not expecting is the way Mike and the younger (usually more volatile) Sinclair are holding onto an incensed looking Lucas. Lucas who has always been the polite one when it came to addressing adults and the one to preach caution and thinking plans through. Lucas who has been quiet and withdrawn since Hop came back, spending his days at the edge of Party affairs when not helping in the rebuilding efforts around town or sitting at Max's bedside.

"What the fuck, Hopper?" The kid spits out and that seems to snap the rest of The Party into action. Will goes to join the two holding Sinclair back but Dustin starts near incoherently yelling in that screechy pitch only that kid seemed to be able to hit about bullshit cops and useless adults and to let Lucas go. "He idolized you, man! Would tell us all the time that you were 'one of the good ones' that if we ever needed anyone and he wasn't there, to find you. That you would take care of us because that's just what you did for people. Because you were good!"

"Lucas, chill out man." Mike pants though he's also glaring daggers at Hop.

This is where Joyce (god bless her) decides to step in. "Lucas, honey-" She says with her soft voice and big wet eyes and that warmth she seems to infuse into everything she touched. "It's complicated. There's some things you just don't understand and-"

"No! You two don't understand! Steve is GOOD. He's good and he cares and he takes care of everyone else and he always kept us safe." The kid seems to be losing some of his steam, pulling at his friends less and resigned to shaking in barely contained fury. "He gets hurt and he gets back up and he apologizes for taking a fall in the first place! He's just Good."

"I know he's been good to you kids and I appreciate that, I really do Lucas." Joyce says, her voice a little stronger, that steadiness returning. "Sometimes people in our lives can do bad things to others and we don't see it because we care about them and that's not always a bad thing. But we have to remember that the people who were wronged are allowed to be upset and that's normal to feel and-"

"You mean like Jonathan?" The room goes quiet. Will looks resigned but not surprised by Lucas' question but the rest of the kids look just as confused as him and Joyce. "Did you really think Steve broke his camera -in the school parking lot of all places- for the hell of it? Did you seriously never question it?"

Hop feels something twist in his gut. He had been so caught up in the search for Will and wrangling a frantic Joyce that he hadn't paid any attention to small-town squabbles like two teenagers having it out in the school parking lot, the destruction of personal property or what might have triggered it. He looks over the kids' heads to see Jonathan and his stoner buddy standing just outside his door. The friend looks confused but Jon is looking at his mom who hasn't noticed him yet like a man preparing himself for the gallows.

"Mom." Joyce's eyes snap from where they were locked on Lucas up to her oldest son. "Mom, I-"

"What are they talking about Jon?" It's quiet. Quiet and scared because everyone in the room knows that whatever secret reason Lucas (and maybe Will?) seems to be the only one to know Steve had for picking a fight isn't going to be good. Jonathan's mouth opens like he's going to say something but no words come out. "Honey, what did you do?"

"He took pictures of Steve and his friends the night Barbara Holland disappeared."

"Will?" all eyes except Lucas' (who is still glaring daggers at Hop) are on the two brothers. One scared and almost pleading the other disappointed and resolved.

"He hid in the bushes and took pictures of Steve and his friends with Nancy and Barbara. There were pictures of Barbara at the Harrington place before she died and he never told anyone. But there were also-" He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes like he can't look at his older brother who has hung his shaggy head under everyone's heavy gaze. "There were pictures of just Steve and Nancy. Alone together. In Steve's room."

There's a sharp gasp that he thinks came from Joyce but he's too busy watching the young man he's come to consider a son. His head is still lowered and his shoulders are curving in on themselves as he shakes off the hand his long-haired friend tries to place on his shoulder.

"Oh baby," Joyce's voice is wet again. A tone of horrified disappointment to it that Hop has only heard her use when talking to or about one other person. "Tell me you didn't."

"Then he-" Will clears his throat like this one is what gives him pause. "He was caught developing the pictures in the school's darkroom. All of the pictures. And he had zoomed in on Steve's window. Nancy was the center of the shot." The kid's eyes flit over to Mike (who is now turning an interesting shade of red as he glares at Jonathan) before he blushes and looks at the ground, "She uh-"

Lucas does not seem to share Will's newfound hesitance in the face of an enraged Mike Wheeler. "Most of the upperclassmen argue if she had a bra or not but they all seem to agree she didn't have a top."

"Oh my god." Everyone was frozen as Joyce began to crumble. "Oh my god." He reached out to catch her, her nails digging into his arm through his shirt sleeve as she stared unseeing at her oldest son.

Jonathan started forward. "Mom, I-" a hand in the middle of his chest stopped him. "Will, please, I need to-"

"Just stop, man." Lucas sighs. "You started this shit, you gotta deal with it before you hurt someone else besides Steve."

"I didn't mean to hurt Steve."

Hops feels himself frozen to the spot in a way he's not used to anymore these days. His mind is working overtime picking out all of the charges that could have been pressed even against a boy of 15/16 if any of the kids in Harrington's inner circle had told an actual adult about the situation. The veritable legal hell that would have been brought down on Joyce while searching for a son legally assumed dead.

"Is that what you told yourself when you helped Nancy cheat?" And it just kept getting worse.

Joyce gives off a whimper and the kids gathered make varied sounds of shock and disgust.

"They were broken up."

"Were they? Cause everybody at school and half the town seems to all know about you and Nancy disappearing together when Steve was still calling her his girlfriend and then you all showed back up to school, Steve beat to hell again and Nancy hanging all over you. The basketball team STILL talk about it."

He's heard enough. "Alright, that's it!" He yells out over the children yelling and Joyce demanding answers and Jonathan's friend trying to say something about there being some sort of explanation. "This doesn't help us help Steve."

Lucas shakes off the loose hold Erica and Mike still had on him and crosses his arms as he rolls back his shoulders and tilts his jaw up to fix him with a glare. The kid's stance is almost arrogant but Hop can't help but notice the way he rests his weight on his off side, his shoulders back and his posture straight without his chest puffing out ridiculously like Hop is used to from teenage boys gearing for a fight.

"I think you've helped enough, Hopper." It's quiet and biting and he lets himself have a moment of grief for the childhood these kids lost, and the fact that he's almost positive Lucas didn't pick up this easy confidence from anyone else in their monster fighting club but Steve. "You and Mrs. Byers want to play nice now cause you feel guilty and that's all well and good but what happens when Steve does something else you don't agree with without explanation? Or he and Jonathan or Nancy get in another fight? When we finally get rid of Vecna and the Upside Down for good? What happens when you don't feel guilty anymore?"

"I can't make any sort of promise you lot will believe. And lord knows I'm pretty shit at keeping them anyways. I just want to be able to try."

"He mourned you, you know. When we were told you didn't make it." That weight is back in his chest. "He held himself together around us but there were- there were moments we could tell. He and El really bonded over that. Over you. Over losing you."

"I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't. You didn't want to know."

"There's no way I can make you believe me. That I want to fix this."

"We want to, Hopper." Dustin butts in, placing a hand on Lucas' shoulder and limping up next to the other boy. "But from what you and Mrs. Byers were talking about... There's just a lot that makes a lot more sense and it doesn't inspire a lot of faith in either of you."

"We need to discuss this as a Party."

"Okay."

"That means letting us take care of it. Steve's one of us and you hurt him."

"I understand."

"So you and Mrs. Byers have got to wait till we say you can talk to Steve. That he's ready for it."

"Now, kids-"

"No they're right, Joyce. We fucked it up on our own and- and he trusts these little shits more than he trusts us right now. We've gotta do the same."

Joyce sighs, "Fine."

She's not happy about it and honestly neither is he. But if the last few years and his stint in a Russian gulag and the subsequent escape taught him anything it's maybe he needs to trust his people to do what they need to do.

The kids scurry back to whichever of the Twins' room they came from, led by a newly determined and involved Lucas and a furiously muttering Dustin. Jonathan and Joyce make their way to the kitchen and Hopper decides he's going to let them have that conversation in as much privacy as they can with a house as full as theirs.

Hopper sits in the living room, runs his hands through his hair that's finally growing out and pulls them down his face before resting his chin on steepled fingers. He hates sitting and waiting and relying on someone else for the next steps. But all he can think about is the sound Steve made. The look in his eyes. The pride in his voice the last time he heard him say, "My Hop."

That's it!

He stands up so fast his bad ankle protests and his knees pop. He limps to the front door, yelling out to the house that he has to go, has something to do. Calls out he has his walkie and that El needs to be ready on time. Then he's out the door.

Part 4.1

More coming soon! Hopefully! Work went from an active team of about 12 to 5, not including the managers we lost ssssooo... Yeah fun times. 🙃

So here's a tag-list, hope I didn't miss anyone. Feel free to yell at/with me in the comments or ask box. If you see your old tag in my list tell me your new one so I can fix it.

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth @dead-cherry-bitch @irethsune @ink777 @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner @ledleaf @pansexuality-activated @paintsplatteredandimperfect @kinryuuki @katdeerly @yikes-a-bee @altocumulustranslucidus @ohimamarigold @child-of-cthulhu @samsoble @sensationalsunburst @xxbottlecapx @y4r3luv @rocochen20 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @flustratedcas @rootbeerandmusic @vinteraltus

[fruitybowl]

🚨🚨🚨IMPORTANT NEW IMFORMATION ABOUT KOSA🚨🚨🚨

Pls pls pls share this and tell as many people as you can. The more people openly opposed to this bill the better.

Ignore the tags I’m trying to spread this as far as I can

[retrosabers]

𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐒.

steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: just some good old fashioned riding with big dick steve

warnings: SMUT 18+. MINORS DNI. swearing, unprotected p in v, mentions of the female anatomy, riding, male & female orgasm

word count: 1k

based on the song “pyramids” by frank ocean.

a/n: this is the first complete smut blurb i’ve ever written, so please bare with! any feedback is greatly appreciated, hope y’all enjoy <3

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐁𝐈𝐆, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓. 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋.

the sight below you is ethereal. steve harrington, under the glow of moonlight, soft brown locks askew on the pillow, plump pink lips parted, and pupils blown wide with lust. he looks like a fucking god, and you’re more than willing to worship. his large hands find solace on your hips, rubbing soft circles with his thumb. the weeping tip of his cock presses against your clit, causing a small whine to escape your lips.

“come on baby” he encourages, voice dripping with desire. “you can take it.”

his length is unlike anything you’ve ever had before. you could barely fit him in your mouth when you sucked him off, and you were sure it was going to be a challenge for him to fit inside your cunt.

his name comes out in another whine, pleading and desperate. steve can’t stop the smirk that forms on his face. he loves knowing that he’s gotten you watered down to this, the strong, confident girl gone cockdrunk before he’s even slipped it in.

“baby” his voice is a little gentler now, one of his hands moving to stroke up and down your back. “i gotcha, okay?”

you trusted steve enough in every other part of your life to know that those two words were true as could be.

nervously, you plant your hands on his chest, wiggling your hips to get a better position, and his cock teased your folds. it’s a touch that makes up your mind. you need him, all of him, right now.

steve hisses out a raspy “atta girl” as you sink down the first few inches. the stretch burns deliciously, bordering on the line between pain and pleasure. you’ve never felt this full before, and just this bit of him has you whimpering and squirming like crazy.

“good girl”, he coos, tongue poking out to lick him bottom lip. “such a good girl for me.”

“jesus you’re big steve.” you manage between shaky breaths. his cocky smirk intensifies and it manages to make you even wetter, granting you access to slide even further down his cock. a moan escapes both of your lips, and steve’s grip on you tightens. he’s fighting the urge to buck up into you, but he knows you have to do this at your own pace.

“that’s it honey. take it. take it all.”

steve’s praise only spurs you on, sending him further into you bit by bit. the sting was slowly giving way to something warmer, and by the time he’s fully seated inside you, you’re convinced if he barely moves an inch, you’re going to cum.

“god you feel so fucking good” steve groans, squeezing the flesh of your ass with one hand. “s’like you were made for me.”

you moan unabashedly, still adjusting to his size.

“steve.”

he shudders. god you were insatiable and you didn’t even have the slightest clue. his hands go back to resting on your hips, an encouraging and gentle touch that gives you confidence.

“honey” he breathes, sounding just as desperate as you. “i want you to ride me, okay?”

you take a deep breath, before rising off him slowly, whining as you went, before taking his length in you once more. slowly, you rise up and down his cock, familiarizing yourself with the feeling before you pick up the pace.

as you begin to move faster, steve is embarrassed over the thought that he’s not gonna last long. between the way your pussy feels wrapped around him, the way your tits were bouncing with every roll of your hips, he was a goner. you’ve built up a steady rhythm now, the burning stretch long gone and replaced by the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt. the only sounds in the room are both of your lust drunk moans and the sound of your soaked heat.

“that’s it baby” steve purs, his grip on your hips sure to leave bruises. “just like that, just like that.”

when steve starts lightly thrusting back up into you, an electric shock of pleasure courses up your spine. the way you moan his name in return is so pornographic it’s making his head spin.

you’re panting and whining, so lost in the feeling of him, and that ever familiar coil begins to form in your stomach.

“m’ close baby” you breathe out, sinking your palms further into the planes of his chest.

he meets your eyes. “yeah? you gonna cum for me pretty girl?”

steve cants his hips up at just the right angle, and you throw your head back in ecstasy.

“right there stevie, please don’t stop.”

and who would steve be if he was to deny your simple request?

your bodies move synchronously, vibrating with need and your orgasm begins to creep up the back of your neck. when you moan out his name this time, steve knows it’s coming. his pointer and index fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles as he works to bring you over the edge.

“fuck! steve i’m gonna-”

before you can finish your sentence, your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. the feeling coursing through your veins is white hot, burning your every nerve . your mouth opens in a silent scream, body twitching as steve works himself up to his own orgasm. steve chases his high with your name falling from his lips like a prayer, hips stuttering into one final thrust before he cums inside you. aftershocks run through your body as he stills, body falling limp onto his chest.

you lay there for a few minutes like that, just bathing in the afterglow before steve eventually decides to pull out. you whimper at the loss of contact and steve holds back a groan at the sight of his cum still dripping a little bit out of your pussy.

“christ, you’re gonna be the death of me” he mutters under his breath, head shaking side to side as he wanders off to the bathroom. steve hears the sound of your laugh echo throughout the room and he can’t help but smile. when he returns with a damp rag, your heart inevitably warms up.

“you okay?” he asks, gently rubbing the warm cloth against the inside of your thighs.

“never been better” you breath out, a lazy smile spreading across your face.

“good.” steve grins, and leans over to plant the most feather-light kiss on the top of your nose. when it scrunches and you giggle, his heart skips a beat.

“always gotta make sure i’m taking care of my girl.”

[toubledrouble]

You know what we should bring back?

Older christianity. I mean the anti government, anti military, community based christianity. The one that cared the most about peace, equality, mercy, kindness, and radical love. The one with shared property. The one that didn't conform to society but instead existed mostly outside of it. The one where noone considered one sin worse than another because in the end, we are all sinners trying our best to be better.

[ladykailitha]

If I were to do a A/B/O story with Steddie this is how I would do it (I've never done omega-verse for any of my fandoms, but damn there is something about Steddie that just screams it, you know?)

Steve was sold to a place that uses infertile omegas as sex toys. Rut servicing, gang bangs, orgies, or even just pretty arm candy for special events. The point is that the Harringtons sold him when they found out he couldn't be sold to the wealthiest, most influential alphas as a broodmare.

They are pretty much indentured and have to pay off the debt of how much the company paid for them. Steve pays off his debt and stays. Most omegas leave, but he loves what he does. He really loves rut servicing. It's his favorite because he has all the control during the three to four days the alpha is sex crazed. He also loves that he can take care of them without them thinking he's in for the bond bite.

Steve's at some gala or event or whatever on the arm of an older alpha, probably a senator or someone important like that when he meets Eddie Munson, frontman for Corroded Coffin.

They're introduced and they hit off, until Steve mentions offhand that he's infertile. Because that angers Eddie for some reason.

Eddie sets up Steve to be his rut servicer and demands that Steve be placed on some kind of birth control. It's a strange request, but it's granted.

When Steve arrives, Eddie tells him under no uncertain terms that either of them are going to be barebacking. Condoms are required.

This pisses Steve off. He's infertile and these demands are just ridiculous. He can't get pregnant.

Eddie scoffs. If he was infertile it would reflect in his scent. It would be sickly sweet, like overripe fruit. Cloying almost. But Steve doesn't smell like that. He smells darker, woodier, more like spices then fruity.

Steve frowns, he hadn't heard that about omegas, but it made sense, his other co-workers did have that sweet smell, but never really thought about it being different than his own.

But before they could talk it out, Eddie goes into his rut hard. Harder then it's ever been and Steve is pretty much scrambling to keep up with the sex.

At the end of the five days, Steve is worn out and ready to pass out for the next week, but he needs to know what Eddie was talking about.

Eddie tells him that he's not infertile, he's an ultra-fertile omega. So rare that they present in only 1% of the human population as a whole. Red-heads are more common they are.

Basically they are only fertile during their heats, but instead of having only a 1 in 5 chance of getting pregnant like omegas do in heat (1 in 8 out of heat), they can get pregnant 4 in 5 chance of getting pregnant. In fact, they are so revered that they can have their pick of the best alphas in their country. Some of them even go so far as casting their net over the whole fucking world.

Steve isn't sure he believes him, but his parents never tested for it because it was too rare. So it's possible that he could be, it's not like he can test it now. The test needs to be done at the time he presented. The only way to know for sure is if he shared a heat with an alpha (he's not allowed to as service omega to spend it with anything but toys) and he doesn't know of any alpha willing to take the chance that he might be some golden omega.

Only Eddie is totally willing. Willing to even bond Steve, with or without the ultra-fertility.

Steve is shocked. He's even more shocked when he goes into heat just from being so close to Eddie. Because he's on blockers, that's not supposed to happen.

While Steve is still cognizant he consents to Eddie helping him through the heat, suddenly grateful for the condom and birth control stipulation is suddenly very welcome.

It's only a light one that lasts a couple of days, but it's the best he's ever had. The first he's ever shared with an alpha. And he loved it.

He found out that in order to share Steve's heat, Eddie had to pay a lot of money for the privilege so he just bought Steve's contract as a whole. The one he made because he brought in so much money to the company.

They talk about bonding and sharing Steve real heat. The reason Eddie was so insistent on the contraception measures is that his scent had been known to break blockers in the past.

Which makes sense, some alphas just have that strong a scent. It's not a thing like an ultra-omega, but just something that could happen. The company tended to screen those types of alphas and made sure that the omega would be safely whisked away. It just never happened to Steve before.

Eddie courts Steve properly and they bond. And sure enough Eddie was right Steve gets pregnant, and suddenly Steve's parents are banging on the door demanding they be compensated for the fact that he's an ultra-omega and could have been sold for lots, lots more money then the company gave them.

But Steve tells them to fuck off and slams the door in their faces. And Steve and Eddie live happily ever after with their growing family.

First chapter of the full story here.

[coastercrushed]

@strange-sapphic sent in: “ okay, so you’re a monster. so am i. lets be monsters together. ”

what a strange thing to say to someone. though, once a look of confusion is replaced by a widening grin. whilst it was strange, mapplethorpe loved the sound of it. ever since he came to the states to restart finish his senior year, he had a hard time making friends. at first, people seemed interested because of his australian accent but quickly he had become an outcast. he wasn't necessarily the most pleasant to be around and he always spoke his mind.

apparently, small towns in america aren't too far off from australia.

"i always thought of myself as a dragon, yanno?"

[strawberryyyenthusiast]

“Wait, so you’re telling me that I have fans? I’m not even famous— I’m so confused, baby.” Steve looks up at Eddie with scrunched eyebrows. He is currently making a demo project to show his kindergarteners for their art activity on the first day of school and multitasking is not something that Steve can handle at the moment. “I mean, I’m your boyfriend who was in the back of one tik-tak—”

“It’s TikTok, babe—”

“Whatever. Can you make them stop?”

Eddie sits down across from Steve. “Stop what, baby?”

“Stop them from making edits of me!” Steve is exasperated in a silly way, slamming his paintbrush into the cup of murky water next to him. “Robin keeps sending them to me and it’s just the same clips of me setting up my pump. Apparently my ‘arms are sexy??’”

“Your arms are very sexy, my love.” Eddie pauses. He moves to sit next to Steve and turns Steve’s chair to face him, cradling his face in his palms. “I’m not sure I can stop a bunch of people from making those videos, but maybe we can make a video together where you explain what diabetes is?”

Steve seems to question it at first, but then he starts to smile and nods his head. “That sounds like a really good idea, babe! You’re so smart. I love you.” Steve leans forward and kisses him.

“I love you, too.”

They sit in comfortable silence before Eddie’s phone beeps with the dexcom notification saying that Steve is either too low or too high. He quickly checks it while Steve ignores it and his eyes almost bulge out of his head.

Eddie stands quickly and grabs an apple juice from the fridge. “Drink this, Steve. You’re at 72.” He uncaps the drink and slides it over to Steve.

“You’re the best, you know that, right?” Steve says after a sip of his juice.

Eddie just smiles, the fondness seeping from the crinkles by his eyes and the dimples in his cheeks.

[greenlikethesea]

@sparklyslug and I commissioned the incredible @mardyart to draw a pivotal scene from our fic, Three Weddings and a Funeral, a part in our currently sprawling universe Let us Dwell in Fair Ithilien and There Make a Garden. For those who have read, you might recognize this as a scene from the third chapter, post [redacted] funeral, where Steve and Eddie have a conversation in the Byers-Hopper kitchen about what is deserved.

Thank you so much for this beautiful art, Mardy. We’re so unbelievably thrilled with the finished product, and we couldn’t be happier. You’re the best!

Referenced fic excerpt under the cut, for context!

 “Oh Joyce, love of my life,” Eddie says to himself, removing several pints of Ben and Jerry’s from the freezer and lining them up on the kitchen counter. Without even asking Steve for his preference, he wordlessly hands Steve the almost full pint of Cherry Garcia. He just knows which one is his favorite, apparently, which shouldn’t surprise Steve as much as it does. “Do you think it’s too soon to propose to her?”

 “I see your stance on asking people out at funerals has changed,” Steve remarks, ignoring the swoop in his stomach at Eddie’s (playful, completely not serious, Joyce is their mom) suggestion.

 “First of all, post-funeral is fair game,” Eddie says as he gets out two bowls and two spoons; he, like Steve, knows this kitchen like the back of his hand. Even knows where to find a jar of apparently unopened maraschino cherries, theatrically blowing the dust off the lid into Steve’s face, who in return theatrically coughs and gags. After a slight pause, he takes the pint of Cherry Garcia out of Steve’s hand and sets to making a little sundae for him. Steve can only dumbly watch as Eddie gives him two scoops and presses down on them so they’re a little softer, just how Steve likes it, adding a brusquely effective swirl of whipped cream, cherries on top, before handing it back to him. In Steve’s professional opinion, it’s a Scoops Ahoy-worthy performance. Makes him kind of wish the outfit was involved, mmm.

 “Secondly,” Eddie says, Steve doing a quick mental scramble away from the vision of Eddie in blue striped shorts and back towards whatever the hell they had been talking about, “I’m pretty sure a sexless marriage is out of the question for her, so it would be a swift no.” He’s less formal with his own ice cream prep, simply jamming a spoon into his own tub (Phish Food, which is just so typically him), whipped cream and cherries apparently forgotten.

 “She deserves better than that,” Steve says now, years later, chasing a stray cherry around the side of his bowl with his spoon. “And so do you.”

 Eddie gives Steve a look, a little bit of humor and a little bit of apprehension and a bit of evaluation. And something so unsurprised, too, a kind of fond      Jesus H Christ, of course smile manifesting just through the shadow of a dimple, not quite making itself entirely seen.

 “I know,” Eddie says simply. The quiet confidence of a man who does know what he deserves, does know that he can and should be desired. Treasured. And get what he wants. And who is, maybe, a little surprised that Steve knows that too.

 Steve pops the maraschino cherry between his teeth, flavor exploding at the back of his tongue, just this shy of too syrupy-sweet, as he looks at Eddie’s face. He can feel it coming in, then. The way he’s heard that the water pulls all the way back far as the eye can see, before a tsunami comes rushing back in. Has a sense of what’s heading his way, in the time that it takes for Eddie to shake his head ruefully and continue, taking his eyes off Steve’s face in an uncharacteristically indirect move. One of only a handful of times Steve can think of, when Eddie hasn’t looked frank and fearless into Steve’s eyes.

 “You do too,” Eddie says to his bowl with quiet ferocity, and follows it with a spoonful of ice cream so quickly that it’s like he’s trying to stuff the words back in. Cover up the evidence with Ben&Jerry’s finest.

I love him, Steve thinks, the hundred-foot high wave coming in. Less devastating of a natural disaster, but sure as shit knocking him off his feet and sending him spinning. Hey, Eddie. I love you.  

[iwasbored777]

I don't understand people who say that Gwen and Miles don't have to end up together just because they're a girl and a boy and how a girl and a boy can be just friends but at the same time those people claim that Gwen and Hobie most likely slept together when she stayed over just because they're...you know...a girl and boy, and that a girl and a boy can't be just friends...

[spicycinnabun]

another ficlet from the same verse as i’m sorry, christofern 🪴

~

Eddie unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt. He couldn’t breathe. The waiter was sneering down at him—at his piercings, tattoos, fingernails blackened with polish and chipping. He didn’t belong at this fine establishment, and it was noticeable to everyone.

The piano man was going to town playing a Beethoven Sonata near their table, and Eddie was this close to shoving him off the bench and showing him how to play some real fucking music.

But Steve was also sitting across from him, looking suave with his hair combed back like an old Hollywood movie star. He was beaming at Eddie, and Eddie was helpless to it.

Even if the menu was giving him a goddamn heart attack, and he was trying not to keel over behind it as Steve ordered the lobster bisque—to start.

Eddie ordered the garden salad.

Steve gave him a weird look. “You sure that's what you want? I thought you didn't like salad.”

“I’m sure,” Eddie said. The salad wouldn't demolish his wallet like any of the things that actually sounded good. “I’m turning over a new leaf. Eating healthier.”

“Uh-huh. You’re already as skinny as a string bean. I don't think you need to eat healthier. You probably need to eat more."

“No can do. I’ve become a slut for vegetables.” Eddie grinned. It was maniacal. “Can't resist a big, juicy cucumber in my mouth.”

The waiter left, looking deeply disturbed, and Steve kicked him under the table, blushing. “Eddie! Jesus.”

“What? Can't a man freely express his joy for deepthroating gourds?”

Steve choked on his water, putting the glass down hastily as he coughed. “You’re such a…” He didn't finish that sentence, but Eddie could fill in the blank.

💚🌱🌿💚

Their first course came, and Eddie pretended to like his salad.

“Yeah, you really look like you're into that,” Steve said, stirring his soup.

Eddie swallowed hard. “It’s absolutely succulent, Steven, thank you.”

He absolutely hated it. The slimy vinaigrette, too.

“Oh, man. Look at that string of pearls,” Steve said, letting it go as he pointed over Eddie’s shoulder. “I’d like one of those.”

Usually, Eddie was the one lacking manners. “Kinda rude to point at people, baby.”

Also, pearls? Eddie was going to be in the red right after this dinner. He hoped Steve wasn’t expecting those any time soon.

Steve laughed, dropping his hand on the table. “No, I’m not. Look.”

Eddie turned in his chair, then groaned in realization when he saw what was hanging from the ceiling.

Steve wasn’t pointing at some woman wearing a pearl necklace. He was geeking out over a fucking plant. Even in public, he was a devoted plant daddy.

“We can get you one of those,” Eddie told him. Steve wanted a pearl plant? Done.

Steve leaned back in his seat, assessing him with his warm brown gaze. Eddie tried not to squirm. “What?”

“You don't like it here.”

Eddie balked. “I like it fine—” he started, then deflated a little under Steve’s skeptical eyebrow quirk. “Okay, I don't like it here. But you do, right?”

“It actually kinda reminds me of my parents.” Steve’s nose wrinkled. “I just wanted to have a good time with you and treat you to something special, but it backfired on me.”

Oh. Hell.

“Hey, it didn't backfire, sweetheart,” Eddie told him, voice low. His hand twitched. He wanted to reach across the table for Steve’s but knew he couldn’t—especially not here. Here, they were no more than friends.

“You wanna ditch and go get a pizza?” Steve asked, nails scratching along the crisp white tablecloth like he was thinking the same thing. “We can catch the next creature feature at the drive-in. Eat on the hood of my car?”

Eddie sighed, feeling his entire self relax. “Oh fuck yes, please. Let’s go.”

They grinned at each other and got up, slinging on their coats. They paid for their half-eaten meals. Neither of them tipped the snooty waiter.

Steve caught his hand in the parking lot as they walked to his car. It was risky, but the walk was less than a minute. They linked fingers.

[hippielittlemetalhead]

So... I lied about getting a full fix-it to This → Part 1. Y'all get parts focusing on different characters for now as Hop traverses his guilt trip. I won't say it gets worse before it gets better but... kinda in places? I promise it's a happy ending though!!

What do you want from me I'm stressed and depressed and I like making my blorbos suffer (a.k.a projecting my trauma instead of doing the healthy shit my shrink tells me to)

You've been warned... But I do hope you like it.

So here we have Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce Edition)

He goes to Joyce about it first. Thinks about her gentle herding of the trio that has become the Hopper-Byers brood. Thinks about how she put everything he was feeling about Mike and El and their giggling and the fucking door into words that kept him from looking like an imbecile (if he'd have ever used them instead of fucking it up 'winging it'). Thinks about the way her voice stays soft and kind of quiet even when she's spitting in his face about listening to her (and every time she's been right) and how that's translated to talking down government goons and wrangling the army of children that seems to get bigger each time they have to fight interdimensional terrors. So he goes to Joyce about what Murray said, the noise Steve made with That Look in his eyes and his bandages peeking out from under a shirt that looks like one of the Henleys he's been missing since coming 'back from the dead' and they dug out his clothes from storage. (El wouldn't let her throw anything out, not until she was ready to say goodbye. Thank whatever god[s] there may be she never needed to)

He doesn't expect Joyce to make a face like he suggested inviting Owens to family dinner. He doesn't expect the scoff and eye roll as her shoulders tense and her hands flex at her sides like she's about to let loose her (honestly really attractive) righteous fury. About the Harrington kid.

Maybe he should have asked when the kids weren't home. Before El quietly told them the bullying wasn't as bad as it was in California but some people still made fun of how she spoke and how all of her friends were boys (and just as quietly asked they not do anything. Asked that they let her and The Party handle it until they couldn't). Before Will came home sulking about something idiotic Mike said or did or something the kid missed (though lately the latest Wheeler mistake is followed by bashful mention of the Emerson kid doing something specifically to make Will feel better in the moment). Before Jonathan came home from 'job hunting' or 'volunteering at the school's relief center' reeking of weed and his long-haired friend in tow (less than usual but still enough to make Joyce feel guilty for missing it for so long, for making the boy grow up so fast that he spends his days out of his mind instead of the weekend bender like when they were kids). Before The Party had come by with what homework the school was still giving out and talking over each other about all the latest small-town gossip a teenager can get their hands on (Eddie's name has been cleared but he's still laid up at the hospital. Susan Mayfield has been noticeably absent according to every nosy housewife in Hawkins considering her daughter is in a coma. The Hagans, Carvers, Perkins and a handful of other 'well to do' families have skipped town taking most of the sports population with them. Steve has been letting people displaced by the damage crash at the Harrington mansion. Steve has kept up hours at Family Video somehow and is a regular volunteer at the various relief centers in town. Steve has been giving all of them rides and may have told Dustin he's thinking of trading in the Beemer for a bigger vehicle for all the kids and people he chauffeurs about. Steve keeps a room empty and waiting for when Max wakes up before her mother makes an appearance. Steve. Steve. Steve.)

He doesn't expect the way she spits his name like she's talking about Dick and Margaret under the bleachers over a smoke before the yard teacher catches them. The rant about bullies and broken cameras and trashed kitchens and dead monsters in her fridge. The crack in her voice when she crosses her arms to stop their shaking as she lays sin upon sin at this boy's feet.

And maybe before that would have been enough.

He doesn't expect the stone in his stomach or the burning in his chest as he looks the woman he loves in the eye and says "So I guess we should tell Nancy to break up with Jonathan before he pulls a Lonnie, huh?" It's a low blow. He knows from the hurt anger on her face and on the purse of her lips. He knows that's why he said it. "That kid is lucky to be alive let alone walking and have we ever even thanked him for keeping the fucking kids alive each time they pull their dumb shit when the world goes to hell? Does that sound like anything his folks would have ever done for us? Hell for their own fucking kid they practically signed over to ME of all people?"

He's shaking now too and Joyce has her hands fluttering between them like she wants to reach out. To touch, comfort. Pull him close and tell him to take a breath.

"He called me 'His Hop', Joyce" He barely has enough breath on him to squeeze the words past his tight throat. "Called me His Hop and watched Ellie and the kids when I just couldn't and you were at work. I don't think I've seen his folks in town since the mall was opened and all the donors had that big party. Don't think I've spoken to them since '83 and they made me the kid's guardian when they aren't around cause they didn't want to fly down for a government sized concussion."

By now he knows El and Will are peeking around the corner, their eyes wide and worried. Jonathan has his door cracked and Angus (is that the hippie's name? He can't remember) is whispering something about heavy auras. Joyce is staring somewhere off in the distance, wringing her hands and biting her lips like she's facing an interdimensional portal shaped problem.

"The kids are planning to have one of their games in a few days." Her voice is brittle in a way he's not used to anymore. Not since she pulled her youngest out of hell and faced down a demon clawing through her walls. "He always drives them over and- and disappears until they need to head home. I can make sure he stays for dinner. Like the rest of the kids. I know Claudia has been having him over so I- I can get some recipes from her that he likes."

Something in his shoulders shakes loose and he reaches out to pull her practically shaking from into his chest.

"I don't know what to say to him Hop. He's not Mike and he's not like either of my boys. In my head he's just always been..."

"Dick and Margaret's brat." He sighs out and rests his cheek on the top of her head as she nods and presses herself in closer.

He's aware of eyes on them. Confused and worried and judgemental and he'll pay that piper next. These kids taught him how to be a dad again once, they can do it again, right?

Part 3

Part 4.1

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth

Part 4.2

Part 5

If I missed you in the tag list I'm sorry I tried 🙃🫡 Tell me what you think? 🫣🥲

[dreamofbecoming]

ok fuck it context now on ao3

—

“I’m freaking out, man!”

“You’re what? Why? This is like, what you’ve been waiting for, isn’t it?”

“I mean, yeah, dude, but now it’s here, it’s happening, and tomorrow it’ll be done and I can’t take it back!”

“Do you want to take it back? Because I think that’s a terrible idea, but if it’s really what you want, I’ll sneak you out the back right now.”

Dustin deflates a little, slumping into the plush chair this weird little church greenroom was nice enough to provide. “No, I don’t want to leave. Of course I don’t.”

Steve puts his hands on Dustin’s shoulders, not massaging, just resting. He doesn’t want to smear too much of his scent onto him before the ceremony, but old habits die hard. Steve suspects he’s always going to want to scent the kids for comfort, even though they’re literally all grown and starting families of their own and don’t need their old omega babysitter anymore.

Case in point, Dustin’s wedding is meant to start in, oh, looks like about 25 minutes, so Steve has to smooth this crisis over double time.

“What’s really bothering you, Dust? You were over the moon yesterday, and the day before that, and every day since you and Susie proposed to each other. Hell, every day since you met! What’s going on now?”

There’s a pause, which is always unsettling coming from Dustin, who hasn’t shut up for more than twelve consecutive minutes in the decade plus Steve has known him, but then he sighs.

“She wants kids.”

Steve’s brow furrows. “And you…don’t?”

Dustin huffs, frustration rising in his scent. “It’s not that I don’t, it’s that I don’t know if it’s a good idea, you know?”

“And you guys haven’t talked about this before now? You’ve been together for like eleven years, dude!”

“We have, of course we have! I’m just thinking about the risks, Steve! I’m a beta, I can’t carry her pups, and pregnancies are dicey for alpha females! What if something happens?”

“First of all don’t call women females, it’s weird. Erica or Nance will definitely smack you for that, and you don’t need a black eye in your wedding photos.” Dustin nods, cringing a little.

“Second, pregnancy isn’t the only option, man, and also it’s her decision. If she wants to carry them, that’s a discussion you need to have with her, but you can’t just shut her down about it. She knew you were a beta when she decided to marry you. She picked you because she loves you, don’t go deciding for her she’s better off with someone else. And besides, if you decide it doesn’t feel right for both of you, you can talk about adoption, or surrogacy, or…I don’t know what all the options are, but I bet there’s tons! Hell, I’d carry for you guys, if you wanted.”

“You would?” Dustin’s eyes get big and shiny almost immediately, and shit, Steve’s gotta shut this down now. The groom can’t be going out there with red eyes and tear stains, Susie will murder Steve on principle.

But he can’t lie to Dustin. Swore he never would, not when it mattered. “Course I would, man, what’s family for? Aw hell, kid, don’t cry, your mate will run me over with her car if your photos are fucked up because of me.”

“I just- I can’t believe you’d do that for me! You don’t even know if I’ll be any good at it!”

Ah, so that’s what this is really about.

“Of course you’ll be good at it, Henderson. You’d be an incredible dad, any kid would be lucky to have you. I mean, your kids are gonna turn out to be nerd city, but that was always a given.”

Dustin gives him a bitchy little eye roll, which was of course Steve’s aim. He still smells anxious, though.

“How can you be sure, though? It’s not like I have any idea what a dad is supposed to be like, you know? It’s why I kept latching onto older male figures, no offense to you and Eddie.”

Little shit. “You should be so lucky, you little twerp.”

Dustin shoves him away, but he’s grinning now, and his scent is slowly returning to the lemon-bright joy that colors it so often Steve just associates it with Dustin’s base scent at this point, so he’ll take the win.

“You really wanna know how I know you’ll make a great dad, Dustybun?”

“Don’t fucking call me that, today’s supposed to be my day!”

“I’m your best man, I’ll call you whatever I want. Seriously though, I have a story for you.”

“A story, huh? I don’t know, Eddie’s more the storyteller in your relationship…”

“I’m gonna go out there and tell your bride to delay the ceremony because you shat your slacks and need new ones, you menace.”

“Okay, okay!” Dustin laughs. “Tell your story.”

“I was gonna put this in my speech later, but I think you need to hear it now, and honestly it might be more about me than you, and I don’t want to steal the spotlight or anything.”

“Not worried about that, but I’m intrigued.”

“You know how when you’re a kid, you learn how to pick out emotion scents by context clues, from like your family and stuff?”

Dustin lifts an unimpressed eyebrow. “Yes, Steve, I’m aware of one of the foundational tenets of our society, which we all personally experienced.”

“Almost fifteen years I’ve known you, and your attitude hasn’t improved one bit, you know that?”

Dustin waves imperiously for him to continue. Steve glares at him, but they really are running short on time.

“You ever know a kid who had like, a gap? Some feeling they had never run into before, so they didn’t know what the smell meant?” Dustin shakes his head, looking curious.

“There was this girl in my class when we were like, seven? Eight? Something like that. Anyway, she borrowed Tommy’s favorite eraser, one of those animal-shaped ones with the faces printed on? He loved that thing. The girl, Cassie, she broke it, by accident. Tommy lost his shit. I’d never seen him so angry. And like, you know how little kids emotions don’t really come through that strong? He smelled like, grown-up angry. Filled the whole room. Freaked the teacher out, too. Everyone’s backing the hell up out of Tommy’s way, even me. But Cassie was just confused. Because no adult in her life had ever been truly angry around her, so she hadn’t learned what it smelled like yet.”

Dustin is listening avidly, looking gratifyingly similar to how he does when Eddie DMs.

“Anyway, Tommy slapped her so hard it left a bruise, got his dumb ass suspended. But I just remember being so jealous, you know? Can you imagine? Eight years old and never knew what anger smelled like. Hell, at that point anger was just what home smelled like to me.”

Aw shit, now Dustin just smells sad.

“Do you remember when I drove you to the Snow Ball?”

Dustin’s got his thinking face on now, trying to figure out why Steve keeps jumping all over the place. Sue him, he’s no Eddie.

He nods anyway.

“Before you got out of the car, when I told you I’d come back to pick you up, you gave me this huge smile, and the car filled up with something I’d never smelled before. Not really, anyway. Maybe like, in passing, you know? Like in the hallway at school, but always faint and never towards me, so I never focused on it.”

Dustin’s eyebrows are totally scrunched up now, little genius brain whirring away. Goddamn brat never had any patience.

“I didn’t ask about it, because I wasn’t sure it was important, and also a little because I felt like enough of a caveman around you little rocket scientist dweebs I didn’t need you explaining feelings to me too, but I kept smelling it from you after that. And from El, and a little from Lucas and Max and even once from your mom, but it was just confusing, you know? I couldn’t figure out what was causing it, so I had no context clues to figure out what it meant.

“And then at Starcourt, after Robin and I went to go puke up those Russian drugs—”

“Ditched me and Erica who were very responsibly trying to wrangle you, you mean.”

“Tomato, tomahto, kid. Anyway, I told her I had a crush on her and she panicked and came out to me, so I switched to making fun of her crush so she would know I was okay with it, and suddenly there was that smell again. First time I ever smelled it coming from her. So after everything was done, I asked her.”

“Oh, so you’ll ask her, but not me? Hurtful, Steve.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, shithead, because Robbie already knew I was a moron, and she was never gonna want to go out with me, so I didn’t need to impress her. I could look stupid to Rob back then, but I still wanted you guys to think I was cool.”

“Steve, buddy, my brother, my best friend, my favorite jock please don’t tell Lucas I said that, we literally never thought you were cool.”

“Now who’s being hurtful?”

“Just the truth, Munson. I tell it like it is.”

“Ugh, whatever. The point is, I asked Bobbie what she felt for me in that bathroom, and she told me that’s when she realized she would love me forever. That we were going to be best friends.”

Dustin looks stricken.

“That’s what I was smelling all that time. Honey. That’s what I smelled in the car in the Hawkins Middle parking lot. You loved me. You were literally the first person in my whole life who ever did.”

“Steve—”

“This isn’t—look, I know it’s kind of sad and pathetic for kid Steve, but this isn’t about that. It’s not about me, okay? It’s about how my whole life turned around the day Dustin Henderson decided he loved me, because he never stopped. Not for a single second of the last thirteen years, and because you loved me then, I have a platonic soulmate and a horde of little siblings and a mate I adore and more friends than I can count on all my fingers and toes! You’re the one who encouraged me to go to cosmetology school, you’re the one who introduced me to Eddie, you’re the one who stood by me and let me crash on your mom’s couch when my parents kicked me out. My life is full of love, and joy, and purpose, and it all started with you, Dustin. I’m here because you loved me, and because once you started loving me you never stopped. I have smelled honey on you every single day since the 1984 Snow Ball, and that’s how I know you’ll be an incredible father. Because if you have all that love for a washed up ex-jock omega nobody had ever loved before? You’ll have all that and more times a million for any kid lucky enough to call you Dad.”

They’re both crying by now. Susie is gonna kill them for sure, but as Dustin buries himself in Steve’s arms like he’s still six inches shorter, Steve decides it doesn’t matter. This is worth it.

There’s a knock at the door, just in time it seems.

“Dingus, baby Dingus, you in there? T minus 5 minutes, boys, stick those feet in the oven if you gotta!”

“Yeah, Bobs, I hear you! We’ll be out in a sec, no cold feet in sight.”

“Roger that, bubba! I’ll inform the bride!” He can hear her racing off, probably dancing with pre-wedding excitement. For a cynical lesbian who has a new girlfriend every month and swears marriage is an archaic institution built on misogyny and omegaphobia, she sure does love weddings.

“You ready, kid?”

Dustin has taken the brief interlude as an opportunity to splash his face with water from the sink in the corner, so he doesn’t look like he’s been crying to into Steve’s shoulder, but Steve makes sure to straighten his tie and finger comb his curls back into place.

“Yeah, I think I’m ready.” He looks at Steve for a long moment, then throws his arms around him one last time. “I’m really glad you’re my brother, Steve.”

Steve squeezes him tighter for a moment, breathing in the familiar scent of lemon and cut grass and honey. Of family. Of love.

“Yeah, kid. Me too.”