#what does eddie make for steve??

[imfinereallyy]

“Steve, it’s an emergency. I need to kiss you. Actually, I need you to kiss me. But I can’t just do it without asking because what if you don’t want me to, and I practically attack you? So yes or no? I swear it’s for a good cause.” Eddie comes running up to Steve in the bar, panting so hard Steve can see the chest movements.

They have taken Robin to a bar out in Indy to get her laid finally. Or at least a tongue in her mouth. The girl is pent up. And it’s Steve’s job as best friend to make that happen (Robin has told him to stop saying that, ‘it is gross’). Eddie is the only other queer person they know and, luckily, has made quite a few trips to Indy to know which bars were the good ones. He tells Steve that, like Robin, he is desperate to get laid, so this is the perfect opportunity.

Steve does his best to try and ignore the burning jealousy he feels at that. Eddie doesn’t know about his feelings (hell about his sexuality), and Steve is pretty sure Eddie doesn’t see him that way.

“Huh?” Asks confused, his brain struggling to process.

“Okay, I see you’re stuck on how to answer, but Steve—“ Eddie grips Steve’s shoulder, and Steve tries not to swoon. “—my ex, the extra shitty one, is here, and if he sees me alone I’ll either a) go home with him tonight and—“

Steve cuts Eddie off with a searing kiss. The thought of Eddie going home with someone else was enough for Steve’s brain to catch up to speed. Steve presses Eddie against the bar. The loud bass of the music suddenly becomes a light thrum in the background. All that he feels is the delightful pressure of their lips together. Eddie’s hands slide up into Steve’s hair as he gets pressed harder into the bar. Steve’s hands' grip Eddie’s waist and give them a tight squeeze. The idea of bruises being left behind, a mark of what they are doing here, makes Steve deepen the kiss. His tongue used to massage Eddie’s, tasting the menthol and rum on his breath. Eddie moans loud and heavy, vibrating Steve’s entire body.

“Eddie?” A voice interrupts them. Steve feels his anger spark back slightly but wills it down because the interruption is probably needed. They are very close to getting kicked out for public indecency.

“Oh hey, Ryan.” Eddie looks the blonde man up and down. He’s cute, Steve notes, but he lacked personality in his appearance. He isn’t what Steve expects from an ex of Eddie’s. He isn’t naive enough to think Eddie dates exclusively metal heads, but he expects someone to match Eddie’s energy. This guy—Ryan apparently—looks like every other guy you’d find on a Sunday in Supermart. Boring and lacking imagination.

“Who’s this?” Ryan looks at Steve pissed.

“Steve?” Eddie wraps an arm around his waist, bringing Steve close up against him. “This is my boyfriend.”

“This dude’s your boyfriend?” Ryan snorts. “C'mon baby, I know you can do better.”

Steve feels his anger finally pop. “He is not your baby. Yea, he can do better than both of us combine, but I’m lucky enough to get him. Now, you interrupted our time together, and we both know you saw what we’re up to, so don’t act like it wasn’t on purpose.”

Ryan startles backwards, “I—“

“Sorry, maybe I wasn’t clear. I meant leave the fuck right now.” Steve grits out, some of his Upside Down protection mode popping out. Ryan scatters quickly.

“Jesus, Steve, that was amazing. I’m sorry I had to make you uncomfortable with that.” Eddie’s eyes find his and cuts Steve off before he can protest and explain no, he really did like that “—and you never even let me explain reason b, by the way! Reason b is b) he would probably humiliate me in the middle of the club.”

Steve nods at Eddie but has one track mind at this point. He grabs Eddie by the face this time before crashing their lips together once again. This time Steve moans into Eddie’s mouth as they both get lost in the kiss.

Steve pulls back ever so slightly and talks directly into Eddie’s mouth, “Sorry. I think he’s still staring. Needed to do more.”

Eddie, with swollen lips and a kissed-out face, looks around the bar to find nothing. “I don’t see him anywhere.”

Steve smirks and pulls Eddie by his belt loops so they are flushed together. Steve leans into Eddie’s ear and nibbles at his lobe. “Hmmm, you’re right. I think he’s actually in the bathroom. Maybe we should kiss in front of him there.” Steve whispers hotly.

Eddie’s brain, which has short-circuited much like Steve only minutes ago, finally catches up. Eddie groans, his face collapsing into Steve’s neck. He licks a stripe up Steve’s neck all the way to his mouth. “Fuck. Yea, baby, I think I saw him too. Think kissing, though, won’t be enough. We might need to up our game.”

Steve nips at Eddie’s lips, “I was hoping you would say that. Guess I just know how much you love your games, Eds.”

They meet each other for one last searing kiss before rushing to the bathrooms to share a very tight, very heated stall.

[pizzaqueen]

Steve being indignant over the girls in Hawkins not being interested in Eddie and Eddie's like I mean, it's fine, I'm gay, I'm not interested in them, and Steve's like that's not the point! You're hot! What's wrong with them?

[hawkinsbnbg]

Stepbrother Eddie who just wanted to protect his innocent little brother and thought that no one would ever deserve his baby.

He’d chase off Steve’s new boyfriends and return home with bloody knuckles—a result of his wrath—because how dare they lay their dirty hands on Steve?

Every day, when Steve came back from school, he’d check Steve’s pretty cunt to make sure the omega hadn't let some random alphas take his virginity.

If it required him to use his tongue and fingers for a thorough inspection, then no one would be the wiser. And if he knotted Steve’s cute ass once or twice every time before he fell asleep with a purring omega in his arms, then it was a little secret between him and his baby.

In the end, Eddie was the one who took Steve’s virginity because no one could protect his omega better than him.

[afewproblems]

Season 2 Halloween AU Part Three

Part One, Part Two

Eddie waits till the end of the day to strike.

It's after four, and almost everyone has left for the day with the exception of the teachers and the janitor --who has already given Eddie the stink eye for remaining after hours for 'no reason'.

But Eddie does have a reason, a pretty decent one too.

He's waiting for King-Steve to get out of detention.

Turns out it didn't take until lunch for the whole school to hear about Harrington and Wheeler. In fact, the way Eddie heard, Steve had been ambushed not two minutes after his conversation with Nancy by Hagan and Hargrove.

Now here was where the story differed depending on who you heard it from.

Tammy Thompson told her lunch table that Steve freaked out when Hargrove started talking shit about Nancy.

Mark Holmes told Jim Cutter that Hagan got punched in the face and Hargrove was simply defending his friend from Steve.

Sarah March told Jeff in their homeroom that Steve wound up with a black eye after gym class that morning and was almost suspended for the week.

Eddie knows there must be a thread of truth linking all of these stories together. And at this point, he'd much rather hear it straight from the source.

Plus with a black eye Harrington would be needing those glasses back.

Eddie snaps the gum in his mouth and stuffs his hands in his pockets as he leans against locker 109, certain that Steve will have to stop by before he leaves.

"Munson?"

Speak of the devil.

Eddie tilts slightly in the direction of the voice and blows out a low whistle at the sight of the shiner on Steve's face.

It's already a deep purple, though it isn't as swollen as Eddie would have thought. It matches the colour of the bags under Steve's good eye and is accentuated by how strangely pale he looks today. Steve's lip is also split down the middle, blood staining his polo collar.

Huh, so it didn't happen in gym.

"Looks like someone had an interesting day," Eddie smiles as he crosses one leg over the other and taps the tip of his chuck on the linoleum, Steve winces at the harsh squeak it makes.

"Look Munson, whatever you want, just get it over with," Steve manages to say through gritted teeth, his hands have clenched into loose fists but the same tremor from the night before has returned in full force.

Eddie pushes himself off of Steve's locker and watches as the other man tenses. Eddie rolls his eyes and reaches behind himself, grabbing the shades from where they are hanging off his back pocket. Steve's gaze follows Eddie's movements and barely halts a flinch as the sunglasses are tossed into his chest.

Steve only seems to catch them with his latent jock ability but still nearly drops them in surprise.

"You left these in my van last night," Eddie shrugs at the way Steve's head tilts slightly, he looks from the glasses in his hand to Eddie and back again with a frown.

"Oh," he breathes out, and the tension drops from Steve's frame like the strings holding him up are all at once severed.

"First a taxi service, now a courier," Eddie smirks, dropping his left hand to his hip, "how ever will you make it up to me Harrington?"

Steve grimaces, rubbing a hand down his face, he winces as it brushes the deepening bruise under his eye, "I'm sure you're about to tell me".

Eddie grins, pretending to consider his options as he lifts a ringed hand to his chin to hold it thoughtfully for a beat while Steve stands before him, looking more and more frustrated with every passing second.

"Where's the fun in that?" Eddie says with a sly smile as he steps closer, nearly into Steve's space, and leans in.

"Maybe you'll owe me one," Eddie winks as he says it before dropping his voice into a wheezing Italian affectation, "perhaps one day soon I'll call upon you for a favor--"

"What?" Steve sputters out in a strangled laugh, leaning away from Eddie's sudden proximity.

From this angle Eddie can see the slightest flush creeping down Steve's neck.

"The Godfather? You know?" Eddie raises an eyebrow at the blank expression on Steve's face, "I'm gonna make him an offer he can't refuse?"

Steve's brow pinches in confusion as he shakes his head.

"I mean," Eddie huffs, moving out of Steve's space again, "you'd probably like it, you have plenty of practice rejecting offers don't ya big boy?"

It takes a second for the words to register for both of them.

Steve's eyebrows cut creases across his forehead as they rise into his hair and Eddie immediately wants to fling himself off the gymnasium roof.

Of all the stupid, stupid things--

"Is this about the weed?" Steve asks slowly with a frown wrinkling his nose, it would be cute if Eddie wasn't beside himself with relief.

Focus.

"Yup," Eddie manages to say with a straight face despite the way his heart is racing. He clears his throat and leans backwards to drape himself against the lockers again, miscalculating how far he's moved away from them after Steve showed up.

Eddie loses his footing and slams into the metal with a loud bang, sliding down onto the floor in a leather clad heap.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie hears from above him, opening his eyes to find a pair of wide hazel ones staring into his own.

"Did you hit your head?"

Eddie ignores the question and the heat that rises in his face and ears. He wants nothing more at this moment than to tell Steve to fuck off, to leave him to crawl into a hole now and finally live the rest of his days as a Hobbit.

But King-Steve is persistent.

"Come on Munson, we should go before someone comes to see what happened, I'm not getting another detention for you," Steve huffs as he holds a hand out in front of Eddie.

Eddie looks from the outstretched hand in front of him, to Steve's face. His stupid, earnest, beautiful face, and takes his hand, grunting as he rises back to his feet.

A door opens down the hall, near the admin office and both men freeze as a pair of heels begin to click and clack their way down the hall.

"Shit," Eddie hisses at the same time Steve barks out a frantic, "Go, go, go!"

They scramble to get away from the lockers and make a beeline for the side exit, a mixture of laughter and curses echoing after them.

Eddie doesn't stop running until he reaches the driver's side door of his van.

He pants out a wild laugh and shakes his head as Steve bends at the waist with his hands braced on his knees. When Steve rights himself, there's a flush of exertion and a bright smile that is only slightly marred by the black eye and split lip.

"You're a trip Harrington," Eddie breathes out before clutching his throat, "I think I swallowed my gum back there".

Steve laughs loud and bright and Eddie can't help but watch the way his head tips back, exposing the long column of his neck. He looks up again, his eyes seem to search Eddie's face briefly before he shakes his head with an expression Eddie's never seen before.

"Yeah well," Steve huffs, his good eye crinkles at the corner from his smile, "you're not what I thought you'd be like either Munson".

And Eddie just doesn't know what to do with that.

Instead, he clears his throat and kicks at a piece of gravel that careens across the empty student parking lot.

"Where's your noble steed?" Eddie asks, his head on swivel. Harrington's car was fairly iconic around here, no way it would have been missed among the sea of beat up Ford's and Gremlins.

Steve tilts his head and frowns slightly, "I left it at Tina's remember?"

And yeah, shit, that makes sense, he must have caught the bus that morning and completely missed it with detention.

"...do you need a ride?"

"Okay".

Part four up!

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and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @strangersteddierthings @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @outpastthebrakers @henderdads @stevesbipanic

[corrodedcoughin]

Eddie making Steve laugh to the point of Steve revealing that he’s actually a snort laugher and Eddie lighting up like all his christmases have come at once

[artiststarme]

Pain's An Old Friend

Based on a prompt from @nburkhardt! I hope it met your expectations. Let me know what you guys think in the comments!

Now with a second and third part!

~*~*~*~

Steve was no stranger to hiding his own injuries. Growing up in the home that he did, it was practically second nature to hide unsavory things from people in order to protect the Harrington image. From a young age, he would go to school with his mom’s concealer painted high on his cheekbone to cover the evidence of his father’s anger. He’d hide his pain during practice when he sprained a ligament so his coach wouldn’t pull him from the Friday night game. He was well used to hiding his pain in front of people that could weaponize it. 

After joining the Party though, Steve started to lower his guards. He’d speak freely about past injuries and slightly more loosely about his current ailments. He was still the babysitter though, the guy that the kids looked toward to protect them. He couldn’t be fully transparent about his migraines or the constant blurriness in his left eye. 

One day though when the kids needed a ride to the arcade on Steve’s day off, he had to be honest with them. His brain felt like it was trying to escape the confines of his skull and his vision pulsated with every heartbeat. 

“Hey, I’m sorry guys but I can’t today. My head is killing me so I need to just relax and wait for it to blow over. How about you guys ask Eddie? He got off at 4 today so I’m sure he could give you a ride.”

Dustin, Lucas, and Will were satisfied with his explanation. They wished him well, volunteered their moms to come drop off soup to him later, and got back on their bikes. Mike though was visibly annoyed. He hung back after the others and turned to face Steve with a glare. 

“Seriously, Steve. You can’t do one thing to help us? It’s not even that far out of your way!”

“Dude, I already told you I have a headache. I’m not driving anywhere,” Steve tried to explain. He didn't know why Mike was so mad. Yeah, they’d wasted time biking to Steve’s house instead of directly to the arcade but it only added an additional five minutes to their commute. It would only take them about ten minutes to get there on their bikes, a completely reasonable distance. 

“A headache? You know how pathetic that is? There’s people that are dying, Steve. And you’re complaining that your head hurts a little bit. You’re just useless!” Mike hissed at him. 

And wasn’t that a surprise. He and Mike still weren’t on great terms, obviously, but he liked to think that they were making progress. To find out that they were still in the same position as they had been all those years ago when Steve was Nancy’s asshole boyfriend and Mike was her bratty little brother, was gut wrenching. 

“Fine, I’ll give you assholes a ride. Let’s go guys. Leave the bikes, you can pick them up tomorrow. Come on, before I change my mind.”

The drive to the arcade was uneventful. They all made it to the arcade in one piece and no one said thank you aside from Will, as per usual. 

The ride home however was a different story. The sun had started to set and Steve’s headache had devolved into a migraine. His vision was tunneling and he could hardly keep his eyes open against the pain in his head. He was taking one of the back roads home and was almost there when a shadow passed in front of his car. Steve’s left fender hit the being before he could turn the wheel and when he did, he steered the Beemer directly into a tree on the side of the road. 

Steve’s head slammed into the steering wheel, hard enough to lacerate his temple and spill blood all over the driver’s side dash. Thankfully, he didn’t lose consciousness and his migraine wasn’t significantly worse than before so he was reasonably sure that he didn’t have another concussion, at least not a severe one. 

Now, a normal person might walk to the nearest house and call the police or an ambulance. Steve though, was not normal. He picked up his keys, wallet, and sunglasses, and walked all the way home. It wasn’t too far, a mile at most but with his head hurting the way it did, it felt like forever. He would call Thatcher Tire tomorrow morning and get the Beemer towed then he would call his dad to beg him to cover the damages and everything would be fine. But the second Steve got back to his house, he laid on the couch and took a nap. He’d worry about everything else the next day. 

~*~*~*~

Steve had forgotten that he made plans with Robin for today. He woke up to manic rambling that he was too tired to follow and his best friend pulling at his arms. 

“Go ‘way,” he mumbled when she once again jostled him. 

“Steve, wake up! What the hell did you do? You have blood all over your head and you weren’t responsive. You were supposed to come over to my house to pick me up so we could make cupcakes and watch movies! I walked over when you didn’t show and I had to walk in to find you dying on your sofa! What the fuck, Steve?!”

“Not dying and please stop yelling, my head hurts.”

“I’m sure it does, Steve! Your entire forehead is black and blue and there’s blood everywhere. Oh my god, I might actually throw up. Stay alert, I’m going to go throw up then I’m going to call Eddie for a ride since neither one of us has the cash to pay for an ambulance. Stay conscious or I will hurl all over you,” she promised.  

True to her word, she went and threw up in the kitchen, grabbed some ice for his head, and then used the living room phone to call Eddie.

“Hey Mr. Munson, is Eddie there? It’s Robin Buckley… I know but I don’t have a license yet, I’m poor… Touché, Mr. Munson… Okay, great! I’ll see him soon then!”

She hung up the phone and returned to Steve's side. “Okay, he’s on his way so we just have to wait. We’re both going to give you a long talk about taking better care of yourself and not damaging any more brain cells, got it?”

He tried to nod at her but the miniscule movement only caused his vision to white-out and his eyes slammed shut. The last thing he heard was Robin screeching at him to wake up before everything went black. 

~*~*~*~

When his eyes opened next, Steve was in a bare hospital room with both of his hands restrained. No, people were holding them. Upon further investigation, he noticed that Eddie was sleeping at his right side with his hands wrapped around Steve’s wrist and Robin was at his left with her fingertips pressed over his pulse point. 

With both of his friends there, the feeling of security almost willed him back to sleep once again. But then he heard loud yelling coming from outside of his hospital room. 

“Where is Steve Harrington?! I got a call about another head injury, is he alright? I will not calm down, that’s my kid and none of you goddamn idiots will tell me anything about him! Where is he?”

The door flung open to reveal Chief Jim Hopper in all of his furious glory. All of his anger melted into worry when his eyes met Steve’s. 

“Hey Hop,” Steve told him with a small smile. 

“Do not ‘hey Hop’ me. What the hell, kid? First I get a panicked call from Robin that you’re in the hospital again, then I get a call from Callahan that he found your car bent around a tree, and then I find out that I’m your emergency contact.” His eyes still held a hint of panic but now they looked tired too as if the events of today had aged him several years. 

“Okay, it’s not bent around the tree. Callahan’s a fucking liar and I keep telling you so! I lightly bumped the tree. Lightly! Everything worked out fine! It’s all good, Hop.”

“Are you not hearing me? Do we have to get your hearing checked too?” Hopper laughed sardonically and threw his hands up exasperatedly. “Steve, you gave all of us heart attacks because you didn’t tell us that you had been in a car accident! And you could’ve died going to sleep like that with a concussion! You know better.”

“Look, in my defense, I didn’t know it was a concussion. And what else was I supposed to do? I couldn’t drive myself to the hospital,” It made sense to Steve but apparently not to Hopper or the now-awake Eddie. 

“Steve-” Eddie whispered in confusion but Hopper’s screaming cut him off.

“You should’ve called someone! Me, Munson, Wayne, hell even Joyce! Wha-the-fu-goddam-ahh!” He stammered with feeling. “Why were you even driving in the first place? You were at home!”

“The kids wanted to go to the arcade and when I told them I couldn’t, Mike said that people had bigger problems than headaches. And he was right. I just wanted to do something useful and then it hit me all at once when I was driving home,” Steve shook his head. He should’ve taken a nap or something instead of giving them a ride then they wouldn’t be in this position right now. 

“Of course it was Mike. It’s always Mike fucking Wheeler,” Hopper scoffed under his breath. His profound annoyance towards the kid continued. “Steve, you can’t listen to that bitch-ass kid! He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Next time, call me and I’ll handle it.”

“Okay, well I will remember that for next time. Next time I have a migraine, I won’t give the kids a ride and I won’t crash my car lightly into a tree. Alright, when are they releasing me? I just want to go home and go back to normal,” Steve said. 

Hopper and Eddie shared a look before Eddie woke Robin and lugged her from the room. Watching that display, he knew he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear and he didn’t.

Hopper chuckled humorlessly, “I’m detaining you. You’re coming home with me when they release you.”

“‘Detaining me’? For what? I didn’t do anything,” Steve asked him in confusion. 

“For acting like a dumbass. You’re going to recover back at my place, Harrington. El and I are going to keep an eye on you.”

“I’m not going to-” Hopper cut him off with a yell that made him jump. 

“You’re detained, Harrington! No more arguments!” 

“Hop, that’s kidnapping!” He proclaimed in outrage. 

“You’re not a kid, it’s fine,” Hopper brushed him off. 

“What- that’s not even, you can’t just force me to accept your help!” 

“Watch me!” Hopper said indignantly. This was ridiculous, despite the evidence, Steve was more than capable of taking care of himself. He was an adult, dammit!

“Hopper, you can’t just hold me against my will. I-I have rights!”

“Yeah? File a complaint. I’m the chief of police and I’m basically your dad so I’m going to take care of you whether you like it or not. Now, are you going to accept this so I can let your friends in and we can all eat Jello or are you going to keep arguing with me?”

Steve looked at him blankly for a moment before he yielded. “Jesus Christ, fine. You win.”

“I know kid, I always do.” He patted Steve’s foot and opened the door for Eddie and Robin to slink back in. “Alright, you better have gotten orange or I’ll kick you both back out.”

Steve had a lot to learn about accepting help and being forthcoming about his injuries. But with his dad, his boyfriend, and his best friend by his side, he had no doubt that he'd get there eventually. He didn't have any other choice.

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[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 112

Part 1 Part 111

Eddie feels anything but serene as he follows Steve up to the front door of the Harrington house. There’s no expensive car in the driveway aside from Steve’s own, but that doesn’t account for all the neighbors. He still remembers the curtains shifting that night, all the rich folks ready to watch the spectacle Billy, Eddie, and Carol were making of themselves.

“What if someone calls the cops?” Eddie whispers, looking behind them at the seemingly abandoned street. When he turns back around, Steve’s frowning down at his keyring. There’s an empty spot where his house key should be. Right. “Wait, let me–”

Eddie bends down to grab the key from the pot where he’d hidden it. He hands it to Steve with a sheepish smile. Steve doesn’t ask. He turns, fits it into the lock, and twists. The metallic clang of the tumbler turning portends their doom.

“Steve!” Eddie hisses, looking back at all the houses hemming them in.

Steve just scoffs. “Why would they call the cops on a kid going into his own house?” He opens the door wide, ushering Eddie inside until he has no choice but to follow. As if there was ever a world in which he wouldn’t follow Steve anywhere. “There’s no way they told anyone they kicked me out.”

Steve closes the door behind Eddie, clicking the lock and deadbolt home like a bad habit. “Besides, you think Chief Hopper’s going to arrest us?”

Steve doesn’t take off his shoes, so Eddie doesn’t either. Steve skips, light-footed up the stairs, but Eddie clumps, muddy boots leaving clods of dirt with every step. When they reach the top of the stairs, Eddie makes sure to ground his heel extra hard into the new white carpet.

When Eddie takes a little too long to follow, Steve clasps his wrist and pulls him into his old bedroom and shuts the door. He’s not surprised when Steve leads him over to his closet.

He’d known right when Steve’d pulled onto the street.

Steve drops his wrist. He puts his back to the closet wall, slides down it, and sort of crouches there, feet planted on the ground, eyes looking up at Eddie. When he doesn’t move, Steve pats the spot next to him.

Eddie slides down the wall beside him. He ends up sitting criss-cross on the carpet, thigh overlapping Steve’s own. As if waiting for Eddie to take his place, Steve drops his own alert position, falling onto his ass and crossing his own legs so his thigh stays pressed tightly into Eddie’s.

Steve didn’t turn on the bedroom light, but the curtains are open, and there’s still plenty of daylight to burn.

“So…” Eddie trails off leadingly, gaze trained on the atrocious plaid wallpaper that covers the room. “What are we doing here?”

Steve sighs. Eddie feels him shift. He looks over, and Steve’s picking at his fingernails. “I just wanted, I mean, you’re just,” Steve stumbles. He groans, burying his head into his hands before peaking up at Eddie through his fingers. “You know?”

Eddie smiles down at him, equal parts endeared and utterly lost. “Not in the slightest.”

Steve laughs, turning his face fully back into his hands. “Yeah, fair,” he replies, voice muffled into his palms. He groans again, long and loud. “Carol and I practiced this.”

Eddie reaches out to pull one of Steve’s hands free. He resists for a second before dropping them both and pouting up at Eddie. He links their fingers together, and Steve latches on like a drowning man. Eddie runs his thumb across his knuckles.

“Fuck what you practiced.” Eddie’s looking down at their hands. “Just tell me.”

Steve breathes in deep, lets it out slow. He squeezes Eddie’s hand once and speaks, all in one go, like he needs to rush it all together to get the thought out. “This is the first place I ever wanted to kiss you.” Steve laughs. “This was supposed to be romantic, but I forgot all my lines.” He laughs again, but Eddie barely hears it. He’s staring down at their hands, eyes so wide they feel like they’re about ready to pop free from his skull. “Should’ve written it down, I guess.”

Eddie thinks he’s smiling, but he can’t quite feel his face anymore. He can’t imagine Steve sitting next to him, reading off notecards as he stumbles through whatever the hell this is.

Steve doesn’t immediately continue, but he’s already given Eddie so much to pour over, that he hardly notices. Steve Harrington wants to kiss him, has thought about it enough to have a first time, is stumbling over his words trying to talk about it.

“Wait the first time?” Eddie asks, shocked enough to look away from their hands and up at Steve’s eyes. “That first night?”

All Eddie remembers of that first night is fear and Steve Harrington’s body pressed close to his.

“No!” Steve says forcefully, almost glaring over at him. But then he winces, eye twitching half closed as he rocks his head to the side. “Well, yeah probably. I’m always sort of thinking about kissing people.”

“What?”

“But I meant that night on Halloween!” Steve raises his hands in defense, bringing Eddie’s up right along with them to hang in the air awkwardly. “You saved me, you know? And you were wearing my clothes.”

“That does it for you?” Eddie asks, something shaking through his lungs, and making him choke on his words. It emerges as a laugh, unhinged and uncontrolled as he pulls his knees up to his chest, bending down to compress his ribs into them as he shakes with the power of his laughter.

Steve’ still holding his hand up, arm bent awkwardly to the side as he leans forward. “Don’t crack on me now, Munson.”

Eddie leans back, waving his free hand in front of his face as tears stream from his eyes. “Hang on, hang on.” He uses his elbow to wipe the tears away, uncurling as the laughter peters out slowly and dies an awkward death at his feet. “Sorry, sorry.”

He peers at Steve out of the corner of his eyes, afraid of what he’ll see. Steve’s biting his lip against his own amusement, eyes crinkled at the corners the way Eddie loves.

“Can I continue?” he asks, mirth audible in every word.

Eddie rolls his eyes, wiping them dry one last time. He turns away from the ugly plaid wallpaper to face Steve, pulling at their joined hands until Steve turns right along with him, the knees of their crossed legs knocking together.

He’s starting to get an inkling of what this is, and he wants to be able to see Steve’s face as it happens.

“Go on,” he says, squeezing Steve’s hand.

It’s Steve’s turn to look down at their hands as Eddie watches a blush bloom on his face. Eddie keeps holding onto him, and waits. He’s waited a week, a year, a lifetime, for this. He can wait a few minutes more.

“Tommy was my first kiss.” Steve says. Eddie’s shoulder’s hunch then freeze that way. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t that. “And Carol was my second.”

The words hang in the air for a second, an arrow to Eddie’s heart. Tommy fucking Hagan who trampled all over Steve’s heart, and Carol fucking Perkins who’d followed right along in his wake.

Eddie doesn’t know what the fuck this is. “What does that…” he starts to ask, voice croaking against whatever feeling is bubbling up in him, but he can’t finish it. What does that have to do with us? He bites his tongue against the words, both hoping and dreading that Steve will pick them out of his brain and answer them anyway.

Steve tugs at his sternum. Eddie shudders and tugs back.

“Carol and Tommy were the ones that were dating,” Steve says, eyebrows furrowed. “That’s what everyone always said, but I was there too, you know?��� He looks up at Eddie like he’s expecting something, so Eddie nods, even as his mind spins and spins, never quite clicking back into place.

“I was at most of their dates, and we were each other’s first everythings.” He’s still frowning, but it’s up at Eddie now, and it’s starting to look less like sadness and more like confusion. “They were my everything” He’s squeezing Eddie’s hand hard enough to sting. “So, what was the difference?”

Eddie doesn’t answer. He barely understands the question, even as things start clicking into place. Steve’s heartbreak had always been obvious. In the teddy bear on his bed, and the way he clutched back onto Carol and clung.

There’d always been an empty spot by Steve’s side. The gossip around school was that Steve was too much of a player to ever fill it. It’d continued like that until the trio had imploded upon itself, fracturing into thirds. Even Nancy Wheeler hadn’t made the cut.

Now Eddie’s wondering if there was ever a spot open at all.

Steve still looks like he wants an answer, so Eddie says, “I don’t know.”

Steve shudders, closing his eyes like Eddie had struck him. He pulls Eddie’s hand up to press it to his forehead for a second,

“I don’t know what the difference is,” Steve reiterates, eyes still closed. “But then you kissed me.” Steve pulls Eddie’s hand down his face, pressing a kiss to the back of it as he finally opens his eyes. “And I didn’t know what it meant.”

There’s something burning through Eddie, scorching his veins, cauterizing his words in his throat as he tries desperately to grasp at them. Steve’s looking at him practically begging for answers, and Eddie’s floundering.

Steve throws him a life preserver.

“I heard you talking to Uncle Wayne,” Steve says, and it doesn’t connect until he tacks on, “and Jeff.”

His breath catches. Not a life preserver, an anchor, and he’s at the bottom of the sea drowning.

Steve’s peeking up at him under his lashes. The thing is, he can’t even remember exactly what was said. But he remembers the embarrassment, the pleas for them both to lower their voices.

Was the L word used? He can’t fucking remember.

“But you didn’t…” What? Say anything? What was he supposed to say?

Steve started acting weird that next morning, hadn’t he?

“You said you loved me,” Steve says, a bandaid ripped off a festering wound. “What did that mean?”

Oh. Here’s Steve asking again, what’s the difference. You kissed me, and I didn’t know what it meant.

What does it mean?

Steve’s ears are so red they’re almost bioluminescent. Eddie wants to reach out and see if he can feel the warmth pooling beneath the thin skin. He turns the hand Steve has clasped in his own and held against his face to do just that. The angle’s awkward, and it ends up with Steve’s own wrist bent awkwardly and smooshed against his cheek.

Steve shudders as Eddie trails his pointer finger against the delicate skin. He pulls Eddie’s hand back and for a heartstopping moment he thinks Steve’s going to let go, but all he does is turn Eddie’s hand to press a kiss to the back of it and then drop their still-joined hands into his own lap.

“It meant I wanted more,” Eddie says, scooting closer in the space they don’t have between them. “Means I want more.”

Steve’s laugh is more like a quiet breath, puffing against Eddie’s face, they’re so close. “More like dating?” Eddie’s heartbeat is all the way up in his throat as he nods. “That’s so stupid, Eddie.”

Eddie sucks in a breath, pulling at his hand, but Steve doesn’t loosen his hold. “No wait!” He drops Eddie’s hand, but before Eddie can get any distance, Steve’s clambering into his lap, patting at his chest like he’s looking for a wound. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Eddie’s breath shudders out of him. He sinks into the carpet more firmly, closing his eyes as he focuses on Steve’s grounding weight atop him. This is Steve. Steve, who would never hurt him. Who let him into his home. Who bleed for him, who tried to die for him, who lives with him.

Steve’s so close, when Eddie opens his eyes. His cheeks are still pink, eyes shining. In the dim light, they look like flat pits of brown. Eddie wants to be this close in the light of day, sunlight shining bright enough to reflect the gold in them.

“I know,” Eddie says, reaching out to clutch Steve’s sides. Whatever prey drive had been thrumming through him thoroughly squashed out under Steve’s bulk. He breathes again while Steve waits, in, out, in, out, in. “What did you mean?”

Steve’s smiling a little as he meets his eyes. The angle’s funky, this close. He can barely see his lips, has to crane his head down a bit just to catch them quirking. “I just meant–” He starts before biting his lip and looking away. His brows furrowed again, like he’s thinking hard about what he wants to say.

Maybe notecards wouldn’t have been such a bad idea.

Steve nods, apparently having reached an accord with his own mind. Eddie loves him so much.

“I just meant, that there is no ‘more,’ Eddie.” He lets go of Eddie long enough to make air quotes around the word “more,” because even in emotional situations, he’s fundamentally a bitch. “You can’t get more than we already are.”

Steve doesn’t settle his hands back on Eddie’s chest; he reaches up to cup his face. “We’re the most we ever could be. Dating doesn’t change that. Kissing doesn’t change that.” Steve’s thumb trails along Eddie’s bottom lip emphasizing the point. “You’re already everything.”

Something untenable is running through Eddie. It’s too big, too untamed. Eddie has to do something with it, or he’s going to immolate on all these feelings.

He leans forward and kisses Steve.

It’s not like last time. Last time was soft, sleepy comfort. It was the warmth of a late night and shared bed.

This time, it’s an inferno. Eddie wants to burn up in it.

Eddie wants to consume Steve; he wants to devour. He wants to die in this perfect, infinite moment.

And Steve’s kissing back, just as ferociously. Eddie wants to get lost in it. But he’s got to know, so he leans back, lets their lips brush as he asks, “but kissing’s okay, right?” He leans in, licking the corner of Steve’s mouth, getting some of his teeth as he laughs. “And you’ll just kiss me?”

Steve doesn’t answer right away, except to reel Eddie back in and press into him, hard and needy. “Just you.” He delves in when Steve gasps, ready to burn up on their connection. Steve bites his lip hard enough to sting.

Eddie loses himself in the moment.

It’s less pulling away, and more kisses slowing, gentling even as they linger.

The light’s almost gone, and both Eddie’s legs are dead beneath Steve’s weight. He reaches out to tuck a hair behind Steve’s ear, smiling as it immediately springs free, Steve’s usual gell released from Eddie’s brushing hands.

Eddie’s lips sting, and his throat’s parched. He never wants to get up.

“Was that anything like you and Carol practiced?” he asks, throat a dry croak.

Steve’s eyes are twinkling as he leans back into Eddie’s space. “Well, I hit all the right beats, at least.”

He leans back into Eddie, slotting their lips back together, lingering, lingering, lingering. Eddie pulls back, the desire to kiss Steve and the perpetual need to be a smartass warring within him. “But in the wrong order right?”

“Hey!”

Eddie kisses him before he can make any more complaints. Steve doesn’t seem to mind.

Part 113

[florallylly]

steve harrington so used to people's eyes on him, doesn't notice when someone is watching him OR hyper vigilant but also really good at reading people, knows eddie has been sneaking peeks at him from behind his textbook

[estrellami-1]

Tagged by @apomaro-mellow @i-less-than-three-you @every-aj-needs-an-angel… hopefully I got everyone! 😅

Rules: generate 5 random words using this generator and then write something using those words! Tag 5 (or however many you want) mutuals to challenge! (If you don’t like your 5 words, try again. This is supposed to be fun!)

My words: mosh, boulangerie, smuggle (technically it was ‘smuggling’ but y’know. Semantics), pearl, fawn

They met at a mosh pit in Indianapolis.

It was rather funny, the way fate works, if you ask Steve, considering he’s from France and Eddie’s from…

Well. He’s not entirely sure, to be honest. He speaks French rather well, but there’s an accent that attests to him being a transplant instead of a native.

Still, they meet and hit it off; they’re sharing the same hotel, same floor, even, so they split the cost of one room.

When in Rome—or, in this case, Indianapolis—do as the locals do.

In this case, as Eddie’d put it with a salacious grin: fuck like rabbits.

They’re on the same plane back to France too, as fate would have it. Steve to go back to his boulangerie, and Eddie to do whatever it is he does in France.

Steve privately thinks Eddie’s in France just to annoy Steve. He’s finding it increasingly hard to care.

They hook up again, more than once, more often than not in Steve’s flat.

He begins to find things missing.

There’s a pearl necklace from his mother. He’s had it ever since she passed, and it was his idea to give it to his daughter, if he should ever have one.

There’s a fawn-colored overcoat from his father. A little loose in the shoulders, but it fits Steve fairly well, and it keeps him warm in the colder months.

There’s a pie dish. Ordinarily he wouldn’t care, but this one is his favorite, for inexplicable reasons.

He asks Robin and Dustin, his friends-slash-employees. He asks his regular customers. He asks Eddie.

No one has any idea, or at least that’s what they say, but Steve’s pretty good at reading people and he feels like Eddie’s lying.

But Eddie’s hot, and a great lay, so Steve keeps his mouth shut, keeps inviting Eddie over, and does his best to keep a closer eye on him.

Things keep disappearing.

It all comes to a head when Eddie barges in one morning, wild-haired and wide-eyed, early enough that the bakery is barely open, that Steve himself is barely awake.

“Where’s the fire?” He teases, but it falls flat when Eddie smacks his hands on the counter and stares into Steve’s eyes.

“I fucked up.”

Steve blinks, thinks maybe Eddie needs a pastry or twelve, and places a gentle hand over Eddie’s, smiling at him. “It’s alright, we can fix it. What do you need?”

Eddie bites his lip, glances behind him. “To hide.”

Steve blinks. Okay, he thinks, maybe it’s more of a crazy ex situation. He nods. “Go upstairs,” he says. “My apartment. I’ll be up as soon as Robin is in. We can figure this out, okay?”

Eddie makes a sound that resembles a whine. “You’re gonna hate me.”

Steve raises a brow. “I find that hard to believe, actually, but I guess we’ll have to wait and see.” He leans forward, presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s cheek. “Go upstairs. I’ll be up in an hour.”

Eddie stares for a moment, presses a bruising kiss to Steve’s lips, and jumps the counter. Steve hears him sprinting upstairs, and he smiles as he shakes his head, continuing his task of placing pastries in the glass cabinet.

An hour later, Robin gets in, and Steve lets her take over, taking off his apron as he heads upstairs.

“Eddie?” He asks, as soon as he’s up.

“Steve,” Eddie breathes, standing up from the couch.

“Hey,” he smiles. He takes Eddie in, sees the way he’s holding himself, the way he’s been running his hands through his hair, and pulls him into a hug. “It’ll be okay,” he murmurs. “C’mon, let’s sit down. Do you want a cup of tea?”

Eddie shakes his head. “I fucked up, Steve, you’re gonna hate me.”

“Like I said before, I find that hard to believe, but go ahead. Try and convince me.”

Eddie takes a breath, scoots away from Steve. Steve tries not to let any expression show. “There’s a reason I haven’t ever told you what I do,” he murmurs, not looking at Steve. Steve’s heart drops. “You mentioned the things that went missing. The truth is… I do know what happened to them.” He rubs his hands together, picks at a nail. “I’m a smuggler, a grifter, a thief… whatever pays the bills, really. Your mom’s necklace was real pearls. Your dad’s jacket wasn’t a knockoff, like you thought. It was the real deal, they both were.”

Steve sets his mouth. “And the pie tin?”

Eddie smiles in a way that makes him look like he’d rather be doing anything else. “That… was purely personal. I thought… if I couldn’t have you… something of yours would have to do.” He runs a hand through his hair, sighs. “The law’s after me. Again. I still have all of your things. I couldn’t bring myself to sell or smuggle them. If you want them… what am I saying, of course you want them. I- shit, Steve, I shouldn’t have gotten involved with you in the first place… you just make it so easy.”

Steve narrows his eyes. “I make what so easy? I make an easy target? An easy mark? An easy fuck?”

“Well,” Eddie says, with the beginnings of a grin, “you kinda do make an easy fuck. But no, I meant… you make it so easy just to be. Just to be a person. Not a criminal, not someone who’s run their entire life. You make it easy to pretend that I can have everything I want. You’re… you’re the hardest target, the hardest mark, because… I care about you, Steve. I’m falling for you. And I know I ruined every chance I ever might’ve had with you, but you’re… you’re so good, and even if you never speak to me again, I thought… maybe you’d help me.”

Steve sighs. “Just answer one question for me.”

“Anything,” Eddie immediately says.

“When we’re… together. Are you putting on an act? Trying to get me to like you, to trust you, so you could steal from right under my nose?”

Eddie’s eyes widen. “No,” he swears. “I mean… Maybe I didn’t show you every part of me, but that’s just because I like you, and I wanted you to like me too. I didn’t want to scare you off.” He offers Steve a crooked grin. “I’ve been told I can be a lot.”

Steve regards him, sends him a crooked almost-grin back. “I’ve been told the same.”

He stands, presses a kiss to Eddie’s lips, and steps back. “You’re good with money, which is one thing my business is sorely lacking. Bring back my things, bring whatever you want to keep for yourself. You start Monday.”

Eddie blinks. “So… I didn’t just irreparably fuck everything up.”

Steve grins. “Oh, you’ll make it up to me. Don’t worry. But for now, go get your things. I’m going to make a call. Who’s after you? What got you spooked?”

“Right now, just the police. But who knows, if they find anything…”

Steve nods. “I’ll make a call. They’ll be off your case by the end of the day, but you should lay low for a while anyways.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “Is this an example of keeping your friends close and your enemies closer?”

“Oh, Eddie,” Steve tuts, leans in until their lips barely brush, and Eddie’s eyes are closing. “I’m going to do things to you that I’d never dream of doing to my enemies.”

Eddie lets out a shaky breath. “Promise?”

Steve pulls back just as Eddie’s patience wears thin and he leans in to kiss Steve. “Go get your things,” he says, smiling when Eddie blinks confused eyes open at him again. “We’re going to have fun tonight.”

Tagging: @steddieas-shegoes @nburkhardt @thatonegreyghost @ghosttotheparty @wynnyfryd and whoever else wants to do it! Feel free to ignore if you’ve already been tagged. ❤️

[xenon-demon]

I fucking love pretty much every version of the “celebrity x Just Some Guy™” trope that there is for Steddie, but in honor of having a totally reasonable amount of wine I’m going to tell you about the version I’m currently thinking about all the time, one of my dumbest yet also funniest AU concepts: modern!AU with streamers Steve & Robin and Hardcore Fan™ Eddie who writes reader-insert fic about Steve.

Steve and Robin, aka EvenStevens and BirdBox_ on Twitch (“My name is spelled with a P-H, Robin, that’s such a stupid name.” “No, it’s actually even better this way! You don’t want to just use your real government name for something like this, and you would just make your username ‘SteveHarrington01′ or something equally uninspired-”) frequently stream together and have a shared YouTube channel. They got popular doing reaction videos that quickly devolve into the pair of them bickering on camera, and since the internet just loves the ‘snarky woman and her emotional support himbo’ dynamic, they got very big, very quick. Plus, it certainly doesn’t hurt that they had the combined might of Dustin and Erica to help them bend the algorithm to their whims.

While most people recognize their platonic-with-a-capital-P soulmatism, there are still some that are convinced they’re secretly dating - they can’t decide if it’s hilarious or absolutely maddening that every time they try to disprove the rumors, they somehow get stronger. Robin doesn’t feel comfortable coming out to the internet yet, and without that trump card some people just can’t understand why they’re not dating.

...there are other sections of their fandom, however, that absolutely do believe they’re not dating. Mainly because they’d rather be dating Steve or Robin (or both!) themselves, and write all the reader-insert fanfiction you could ever possibly need about it. Robin is largely ambivalent to the concept of fanfiction being written about herself as long as they’re not writing smut, since at least that way they’re not insisting she’s dating Steve.

Steve on the other hand finds it absolutely hilarious how despite how much he’s changed, he’s back to being the heartthrob he used to be in high school - and, he’ll be honest, he thrives on the attention. He’s given everyone the green light to write whatever they want - dared them to make it raunchier, even - to the point where it’s a running joke that Steve will read your reader-insert fanfiction about him unless you tag it with some form of ‘Steve don’t look’. He even used the prevalence of fic about himself to come out on stream.

(Steve’s in the middle of re-organizing his flower field in Animal Crossing when he’s interrupted by a donation. “Hey Steve, really sorry to tell you this but people are writing porn about you... and they’re making it gay. Like writing about you getting fucked by a dude. Just wanted you to know so you can say something about it.”

Steve stops dead, his screen freezing on his open inventory. “Hey, uh, why the fuck would I have a problem about a fictional version of me bottoming? Or- wait, do I seriously give off homophobic vibes? I’m literally bisexual. Hey Dustin, can you ban that guy please? Christ, the nerve of some people. If that’s how you feel about people being gay, or about people writing things that I’ve already said I have no problem with, you can leave this stream right now because I don’t want you here.“)

Many people lost their minds after that stream, one of them being popular tumblr blog whorefireclub.

Eddie didn’t plan on starting a tumblr blog for self-insert fanfiction about a twitch streamer. Really he didn’t, and every time he thinks about it in terms that plain he kind of dies a little on the inside. It’s really all Gareth’s fault, for getting fed up with Eddie’s dumb parasocial crush on a streamer and daring him to just “get it out of his system already”. So, using a bare-bones anonymous tumblr and many, many beers as his cover story, Eddie posted some of the most quickly written and unedited pieces of writing he’s ever produced in his life.

Except he wrote it with an AMAB reader character - and for those of you unfamiliar with the reader-insert sphere, that’s like fucking hen’s teeth. People are pretty good at making things gender neutral at least in their descriptions, and sometimes the anatomy is vague enough that it’s ambiguous, but the majority is written with AFAB genitalia for the reader character.

Eddie’s little drunken post blows up, and at first, he’s never regretted a life choice more.

After thinking about it, and seeing just how many people left comments with their reblogs or came into his askbox directly to thank him for giving them the representation they wanted, he starts to feel a bit better about the whole thing. In fact, it kind of tickles his “protector of the outcasts” instincts; there are people who can’t enjoy the content they want to because it doesn’t gel with their anatomy or gender identity. Eddie could, hypothetically, if he wanted to be absolutely insane about this one hot streamer guy, help fix that problem somewhat.

A couple of months later and he’s become “the guy who writes inclusive reader-insert fic”. While a fair amount of his work is gender-ambiguous, both in anatomy and in avoiding gendered language, more than half is written for anyone who finds themselves underrepresented in the usual reader-insert scene; anyone AMAB, AFAB people who can’t do female language, he’s even written a few oneshots with intersex reader characters. He did research for it and everything. It’s certainly not how he planned for this to work out, but it’s actually kind of... nice. He’d written a lot of fanfiction in his youth, mainly about Lord of the Rings and Star Trek, and while this isn’t how he’d imagined returning to the hobby it’s actually really fun. (It’s making his celebrity crush on Steve a million times worse, of course, but he’s in denial about that so it’s totally fine.)

He’s a little shit, so his blog header has - underneath his personal details - a PSA that reads “Steve, don’t look at this unless you have the balls to shout me out on stream ;)”. Eddie thinks he’s absolutely hilarious.

Right up until he wakes up to find his following has exploded overnight, and upon checking his DMs from his mutuals realizes that - oh shit - that bastard actually did it and talked about his blog on stream.

And Steve said he liked it. Steve likes the porn that Eddie wrote about him. Jesus H. Christ, Eddie is so unfathomably fucked.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

if this were to exist as a fic it would be told through social media posts/DMs. one of those fics that uses unconventional (i.e. non-prose) formatting, you know the ones. the concept actually came from the fact I fucking LOVE fics like that, I’m a slut for any of that House of Leaves-type shit. one time I read a fic that consisted of 8 short stories and each one had a HTML puzzle you had to solve to be able to read it, e.g. one you had to highlight because the text was in white, another you needed to hover your mouse over to make it scroll through the text - I can’t remember the rest but it was SO COOL.

(or, to put this another way, I read homestuck at a formative age and it forever changed how I feel about formatting stories.)

[unspecifiedfigure]

posting a wip here because i’m insane like that

[clustermiix]

just saying the last time Steve found out someone was mean to Lucas, Steve physically fought them over it

(and given the way he wins higher stakes fights where killing the other person/creature doesn't matter/is actually preferrable, I'd safely say Steve only lost against Billy because he didn't actually want to murder another teenager. I'm tired of seeing people, including the show's own narrative, act like he's some kind of loser for not wanting to kill a Human being.)

Lucas and Erica are equally high up on Steve's list of people he cares about as Dustin and Max

[they-reap-what-we-sow]

characters: buck (911) and bucky (mcu) title: desperation breeds

DOTTIE. HEWWO. I AM- SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS.

okay so :evil_chinhands:

Buck on his world tour of finding himself, ends up in DC because my boy is a nerd and wants to visit all the museums!! He's not feeling so hot but he bought a day pass to every exhibit in the DC area and he'll be damned if he wastes his money. By the time he makes it to the WWII exhibit, Buck is stumbling and wobbling, squinting at the red, white, and blue of the uniform on the wall. Pulling himself to his feet, Buck bumps shoulders with a man in a baseball cap pulled low, long hair surrounding his face. He turns to face Buck, and Buck's eyes blow wide, but not in recognition of the face on the poster behind him, no- that doesn't register at all. What registers is the wild alpha scent pouring off the man, blooming in response to Buck's unnoticed heat scent. The population of secondary designated people in the world is a hidden secret, an underground hierarchy hidden from the rest of society, and meeting another designated person is rare outside of the Events- but it's a good thing Bucky's found this omega now. His sweet delicious scent cleared up all the confusion from years of isolation and torture, and Bucky remembers everything, but right now the only things that matters is tending to this omega falling deep into his heat right in the middle of Steve's exhibit. Bucky scents the omega gently, and when the gorgeous man turns into him, whimpering on a frequency inaudible to any ears except Alpha's, offering his own scent in response, Bucky takes his weight and guides him out of the museum, desperately looking for a place to let the omega rest so Bucky can take care of him.

[delta-piscium]

and what if I wrote disaster cringe fail vampire Eddie? what then?

[acowardinmordor]

pleeasseee write a full thing about that steve overdosing in the bathroom idea you had! i really like the idea it’s so fun (in the sense that i don’t think iv seen it before not that oding or addiction is a fun activity)

I'm so aware of my sins that this ask is the reason I'm figuring out how to make a quasi-prompt meme thing on ao3 that's basically a home for wayward fic ideas. Bc I know I do not have time, even if the guilt of my wips didn't get me.

Also, I go by Strife, I'd for sure end that thing painful.

[dungeons-are-too-cold]

the office steddie au where theyre pam and jim