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slowandsteddie · 16 hours

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Steve had died in that interrogation room under Starcourt and now, he was stuck haunting Robin Buckley who might as well be his shortest heartbreak and long-lost twin.

The problem was she couldn't see or touch him.

No, she could hear him just fine, but physical contact was just impossible.

Steve, however, didn't care much so long as he had someone there to listen to his daily monologues. It was fun.

They bickered most of the time and while Robin always seemed sad that she couldn't hug him whenever he told her about his parents or how lonely he used to be before her, Steve was just happy with what he got.

Because even in death, he wasn't alone, and that was enough of a gift to him.

Then, the day his funeral was held, Steve was thankful that he had convinced Robin to attend considering it was how he reunited with the kids.

They all saw him.

A thing that Steve would never take for granted.

Robin didn't know what to do when they flocked around her and bombarded her with question after question, demanding to know why she was the one who got the privilege of being haunted by Steve.

"A privilege?" Robin burst into a laugh, giving them a ridiculous look.

"Of course, to think you've been haunted and actually having real conversations with a ghost every day is a revolutionary step into the spiritual science field," Dustin narrowed his eyes. "And I am very disappointed in you, Ms. Robin Buckley, for not telling me right away!"

"Just say you're jealous that Steve doesn't haunt you." Max rolled her eyes.

"You say it as if you're not jealous yourself!" Mike scowled at her.

"No, I'm not, you delusional nerd!" Max scowled back.

"Hey!"

"C'mon guys, don't fight," Lucas frowned and sighed in exasperation.

Noticing the odd looks from other people at the cemetery, Robin herded the kids into Steve's car that he had given her as a keepsake.

Once they were safely away from prying eyes, Robin clapped her hands to gather everyone's attention.

"Children!" She then continued under their curious gazes. "Steve-o here said he really appreciates that you munchkins care so much about him. But sadly, he can't leave my side. Like literally can't so if any of you want to see him, you can always seek me out whenever you see fit."

"Why are you saying all of this?" Mike squinted at her.

"Because Steve can't talk to us, obviously." Dustin responded haughtily, earning an eye roll from the other boy.

"Bingo!" Robin did a fist bump with Dustin.

Then, she held up a finger at them. "And before you ask, I can't see him. Or touch him."

She watched the kids look at the passenger seat before nodding at her.

It must be Steve who confirmed the truth, she thought.

As they went back to discussing Steve's incorporeal state, Robin had a feeling that she had unknowingly adopted a gaggle of troublesome ducklings who were going to give her grey hair very very soon.

"C'mon Robbie, it's a Halloween party," Steve begged. "Let's go have some fun! Don't your heart ache to watch your bestest friend rotting in sorrow while eating pumpkins?"

"First of all, I've never ever met anyone who uses 'heart' and 'ache' like that," Robin blew at her freshly painted nails.

"Well, now I'm your first. Didn't people always say special always come late?"

"I don't even want to correct you on all of that," Robin huffed quietly at Steve's goofy chuckle. "And no, Dingus, you don't eat pumpkins. Or if you do, I don't care."

"Please, Robbie, I just wanna have fun," Steve sighed dolefully. "It's been a long time ago since I went to a party." He sighed again and even sniffled a little.

When Robin groaned, a big grin stretched on his lips.

"Just this time." She narrowed her eyes at him, or precisely speaking, at the spot where she assumed he was sitting.

Sometimes, when she made a wrong guess, Steve would just move over to where her gaze stopped and continue talking her ears off.

"I promise you're gonna have so much fun, Robbie." Steve ruffled her hair even if his hand always passed right through her. It was still one of his hard-to-get-rid-of habits anyway.

By the time they arrived, the party was already full-blown and swarmed with people.

As Robin struggled her way through the crowd, Steve just walked beside her with barely any difficulties.

He bet she would curse him so much if she saw how comfortable he looked right now.

But then, his little moment of joy was cut short when he bumped into someone whose lips literally knocked against his.

As cliché as it might sound, he certainly felt the electricity running through his body from that single accidental kiss.

And belatedly, a realization dawned on him.

He had bumped right into someone.

He, a ghost, had bodily collided with a living human.

Shocked, Steve stepped back and was at a loss for what to do next.

Then, a shaky voice shook him out of his trance.

"Harrington?"

Staring into those scared Bambi's eyes,

Steve clenched his jaw and forced himself to not panic.

"Munson."

#tbr pile

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slowandsteddie · 16 hours

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Eddie wake up.

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slowandsteddie · 16 hours

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the last few days I've been thinking about Eddie calling Steve all kinds of pet names, he and Robin have a bet, Eddie has to see how many different ones he can come up with and also aim to make Steve blush so hard he has to cover his face (this has only happened once and Robin needs to see it again).

Que Eddie, walking around calling him everything under the sun, Sweetheart, Honey, Cutie Pie, Bambi (that one gets him quite a lot of blush but still not enough), Hot Stuff, Beautiful, Daddy Long Legs (that had gotten him a glare and shove to the shoulder, and some neck blushing.) You name a sweet or weird pet name, he's used it, and gotten nowhere. Robin has broken down and started feeding him pet names to help at this point.

And then one day, just out of the fucking blue, the words "Sugar Tits" fall out of his mouth and he's mortified. But so is Steve. The blush crawls down his neck and he hides behind his hands, but he's also flustered and (seemingly) outraged. Like, picture Captain Holt from Brooklyn 99 during the BOoOooOooONE!?!?!??! situation. (And in case y'all can't picture it i made a handy guild: pictured below 👍🏻).

But Steve KEEPS bringing it up because "EDWARD WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST CALL ME!?!?!" and Eddie is equally mortified and he's like "I DON'T KNOW IT JUST CAME OUT!!! IM SO SORRY!!"

They aren't dating when this happens. But they start dating because of it. And Eddie absolutely calls Steve sugar tits aaaaalllllll the time after this. Only when they're alone. It always makes Steve snort and blush and scowl. But he secretly adores it, cuz it always comes with Eddie hugging or kissing or cuddling him.

Meme incoming in 3...2...1...

#tbr pile

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slowandsteddie · 16 hours

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Thinking about babygirl Steve and how he was somehow just…allowed to roam around looking like that in the mall.

Thinking about Steve babygirlifying himself on purpose, knowing full well what he’s doing.

Thinking about Steve being given a uniform after he gets through his Scoops interview, even though he doesn’t start ‘til next week. About how it feels ridiculous when he slips on the shorts and shirt and looks critically in the mirror.

About how he tilts his head, pauses. Considers his reflection and squints his eyes just a bit so he can ignore the awkward fit and the way the stupid hat flattens his hair. Because, other than a few flaws, the uniform actually looks…kind of good on him.

Now, I love a Steve who doesn’t always realise he’s being flirted with, or the effect he has on people. But that boy knows, let’s be real. Just like he knows the sort of image he makes dressed up like this.

Keep reading

#tbr pile

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slowandsteddie · 20 hours

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Everything I Ever Wanted Part 2/4

Yay! The next chapter is out!! I am really loving all the attention this little story got. Again please read the original.

Pt 1

In this one we have the charity gala for the alpha health care that Eddie suggested in the penultimate chapter. Chrissy is a gem. And Steve and Corroded Coffin boys have a little fun.

****

Steve and Eddie were getting ready for their third annual Alpha Health gala.

Every year since Eddie had suggested it, they had thrown a gala raising money to bring awareness to alpha health issues. Last year they had even managed to get alpha health classes mandated in middle and high school through the national congress and both Eddie and Steve was on hand when the president signed it into law.

Steve pulled on his black, lacy, thigh high stockings, clipping them to the garter belt then came on the black glittering stilettos. He pulled out the dress he was going to wear for the evening.

It was in the same style as the gold dress that had started this all, with the low drape in front and backless, but instead of the slits up to the middle of his thighs, it was a mermaid tail with a glittering train.

Steve was more comfortable with his feminine side now, not shying away from cuts that hid his broad thighs and flat chest. The only reason the drape this time is that Eddie loved his tits.

He giggled as he pulled on the dress, reveling in the silky smoothness of the material against his skin.

He was finishing his makeup when Eddie stepped out of the bathroom where he had been showering.

He looked up at Eddie and smiled at his naked form. His tattoos and piercings on display.

“Like what you see, darlin’?” Eddie said with a smirk.

Steve threw back his head and laughed. “You know I do. I love looking at your tats.”

Eddie squeezed the water from his hair. “Yeah? You got a favorite, big boy?”

Steve stood up from his vanity and stalked over to his very naked fiance. He looked him up and down, the heat of his gaze lingering over his lean frame. “You could say that.”

“if you say your initials on my ass, sweetheart,” Eddie said with a snort, “you and I are going to have words.”

Steve giggled and wrapped his hands around his butt. “As much as I adore that one, it’s not my favorite.”

“Yeah, so which one is your favorite then?”

Steve brought one hand up to trace the serpent on Eddie’s neck, and the other to trace the bats on his right forearm. “All great tattoos, but my favorite...” both of his hands dusted against dragon that curled around his abs, “is this one.”

Eddie’s stomach clenched at the touch. “Yeah? Why is that one your favorite, then?”

Steve leaned forward and whispered into his ear. “Because I love getting on my knees and kissing my way down it to suck your cock.”

Eddie threw back his head and groaned. He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to will his cock not to react.

Steve stepped back and turned with a wink. “Too bad we don’t have time for any fun, guests are set to start arriving any minute now.”

“Baby,” Eddie moaned. “People try and tell me that I’m the menace in this relationship, but I’m pretty sure you just proved that it’s you.”

Steve cackled. “That’s because I’m sweet little omega,” he said clutching his hands and batting his eyelashes, “I couldn’t possibly be as freaky out of the bedroom as I am in it.”

“More fools they, then.”

Eddie got dressed in his favorite designer Jimmy Pantera. The tight leather pants, the knee-high laced boots, the black billowy shirt and the vest that looked like a paisley design but it you looked close enough they were actually dicks.

Steve laughed for a good twenty minutes when he saw it. He was the one that insisted that Eddie wear it.

Then he showed it to his bandmates and they all agreed to have some kind of dick tastefully woven into their clothes tonight and they were going to make a game of it to see who can catch the most.

Steve was sure he was going to win.

Well, Eddie was too, but he wasn’t going to admit that, not when there was a bet of a hundred dollars on the line.

When Steve finished putting on his jewelry, he turned in his seat to see Eddie putting in the last of his accessories. A single black diamond stud in his left ear.

“I still think it’s cheating,” Eddie huffed, walking over and flicking Steve’s earring, “that these are your dicks.”

Steve’s earrings had two diamonds side by side at the lobe and string of three diamonds hanging down, the third one slightly larger than the other two.

He snickered. “It’s tasteful and hilarious. Be grateful I didn’t chose the pink diamonds.”

“Now that would have been hilarious, princess,” Eddie said with a grin. “You ready for this?”

He held out his hand to help Steve to his feet.

Steve took it and pulled in close to his fiance. “Ready when you are, dearest.”

****

Jeff was the last one of the band to arrive.

“All boys,” Steve said with a grin. “Here are the rules. You have until midnight to figure out where everyone’s sneaky dicks are. Eddie even has one you don’t know about. You’ll write them down on a piece of paper when you think you got it and hand it to me. And then whoever has the most correct wins the bet and the absolutely magnificent bottle of red I found as a prize.”

Once he got all their nods of understanding he sent them off to enjoy their evening.

Chrissy was on the guest list, but she had also came with Jeff as his escort for the evening.

Steve privately thought that the Corroded Coffin guitarist was crushing on the omega, but he was going to keep that to himself.

Her princess cut, sleeveless, pink dress had ruffles in the front and Steve tilted his head with an amused smirk on his face.

He excused himself from Eddie’s side and went up to the beautiful omega.

They greeted each other by kissing the other’s cheeks.

Steve held her out at arms length. “Darling, you look stunning!”

Chrissy giggled and did a little spin.

“Do you like it?” she asked, grinning from ear to ear.

“I love it!” he giggled. He raised an eyebrow. “Is this supposed to sneaky or overt?”

Chrissy did another spin with the her dress, making it flare out dramatically. “Overt, of course!” She leaned over and giggled. “I’m bringing awareness to female alphas sexual health, too. Like male omegas, they have both a vulva and a cock and we shouldn’t forget that in the sea of all this knothead fuckery.”

“Chrissy dearest,” Steve said with his voice filled with wonder.

“Yes, Stevie darling?” she asked with a sly grin.

“I adore you!” he wrapped his arms around her waist and swung her around.

She shrieked in delight until he put her down.

Chrissy reached up and flicked his right earring. “But I’m guessing these are covert?”

Steve grinned. “Yes, but don’t you going snitching to Jeff. He has to figure it out on his own.”

She clutched her chest in mock outrage. “I’d never!”

“Good,” he said booping her nose, “see that it stays that way.”

They chatted for a few minutes more before she went back to Jeff’s side.

Steve looked around to see if he could find his smoking hot fiance when he saw two other people he wanted to say hi to, instead.

He grabbed two glasses of champagne on his way over and handed one to each Joyce and Senator Jim Hopper.

“Thank you both for coming,” he said with a sincere smile.

Jim huffed out a laugh. “Son, I’d be a fairly stupid congressman if I didn’t show up to the fundraiser to raise awareness for the law I fucking wrote and got passed last year.”

“Jim!” Joyce protested, but both her and Steve were grinning.

“Still it’s good to see you both,” Steve murmured. “How are you taking to being grandparents?”

Joyce and Jim shared a secret smile.

“We’re doing great,” Joyce said. “Nancy is really taking to parenthood. She’s so protective of Jonathan. It’s really sweet.”

Steve nodded. It was one of Nancy’s greatest fears that she wouldn’t feel anything toward her children should she have any. But to hear that that was a baseless concern was a good thing.

Just then Nancy and Jonathan arrived arm in arm.

“Speak of the devils,” Jim said with gruff pride.

Steve looked over his shoulder to see a smiling, radiant Nancy and a soft and glowing Jonathan, who looked about four months along.

“Well that’s certainly a surprise,” Steve said with a raised eyebrow.

Joyce giggled into her hand. “It was for them, too. But I’ve never seen anyone so excited that she was going to have another baby with the love of her life.”

“I’m happy for her,” he said softly.

Joyce’s expression softened. “It must be so hard for you, watching old friends having children. I remember you told me that you’re infertile.”

Steve opened his mouth to tell her the truth. But decided that he didn’t want anyone to know yet. His body sagged a bit.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “But I’m happy being who I am.”

She squeezed his hand and the couple wandered off.

Steve looked around again and this time spotted Eddie with that omega actress again.

His stomach swooped painfully.

A warm hand touched his elbow and Steve started. He looked over at Chrissy who had a concerned expression on her face.

“Are you okay?” she asked, gently rubbing her hand up and down his arm.

He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “What if I’m not a golden omega? What if all these hoops I’m jumping through are for nothing and he’s stuck with a needy, barren omega?”

Chrissy looked over at the actress who had her hand on Eddie’s arm as they talked.

“Look at her,” Steve whispered harshly. “She’s beautiful, talented, rich, and hasn’t had hundreds of alphas between her legs.”

Chrissy smacked his arm. “And Eddie isn’t the remotest bit interested in her.”

His head whipped around to face her so fast she was afraid of whiplash, the dork.

“She’s not interested him either,” Chrissy insisted. “Look at their body language. You’re good at that. Show off for me. Imagine it’s just two strangers what would you see?”

Steve let out a low shuddering breath and closed his eyes. He opened them slowly.

“She’s touching his arm,” Steve said, “something a lot people will use as a sign of attraction because gets the two them being connected.”

“But...” Chrissy said with a sly smile.

Steve waved at them. “But, she’s staying arm’s length. She’s not leaning into his space. Her smile is genuine, but it’s not flirty.”

She squeezed his arm in encouragement. “Now do him.”

He chewed on his lip. He knew what attraction looked like on Eddie having seen it first hand for years.

He was all heat. Lowered eyelids, smoldering eyes, dimples belying his smirk. He also had to touch. Hand, waist, shoulder, cheek. He would lean into the other person’s space, like he couldn’t bare to be far from them.

Eddie was touching her. But it was a loose hand hold and fond smile. They were clearly just friends.

“He’s being too casual with her,” Steve finally said. “If he was interested in her he would be closer, all heated glances and whispered promises.”

Chrissy grinned and gave his arm one more squeeze before letting go. “Now go get your man.”

Steve took a deep breath and began to walk. He walked right up to Eddie’s side and the actress greeted him by throwing her arms around his neck and talking happily about how excited she is that Eddie found his perfect partner.

Steve looked over Eddie who is blushing, but proud. So he leaned into the touch. He could allow himself this. Being her friend, too.

So he held her hand and started talking happily about the date they set and how they hoped either his heat or Eddie’s rut wouldn’t come early.

“Could you imagine,” Steve huffed, “going into heat at your bonding reception? I don’t think I’d ever come out in public ever again.”

Eddie laughed and drew him in close. “I’d be okay with that.”

The actress, who had now been properly introduced as Nikita Auclair, gasped. Her eyes wide with delighted amusement.

“You hound dog!” she shrieked, hitting his arm.

Eddie just smiled, unrepentant.

“Oh don’t worry,” Steve said, leaning in close to her, “I can make him heel.”

She threw her head back and laughed. She touched her chest as she fought to breath.

“I like you,” Nikita said, “Let’s do lunch before the bonding. I’d love to get to know you better.”

Steve kissed her cheek. “Eddie has my number, call me.”

She squeezed his hand and walked away.

“You are a menace,” Steve growled playfully.

Eddie kissed him deeply. “And you gave as good as you got, darlin’. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

At the end of the night, it was Steve that walked away with the bet and the prize. With only Brian guessing Steve’s dick earrings.

Steve knew that when Eddie and him got home that night they would be making quick work of that wine and spending the rest of the night naked and moaning.

As they walked off, Chrissy just shook her head at the rest of the band and their partners.

“We really should have known better than to bet against the greatest escort of his generation.”

The others could only agree.

****

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slowandsteddie · 2 days

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So I’m thinking of making like a princess bride au but idk who to put for Prince Humperdinck so decide for me please I guess??

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slowandsteddie · 2 days

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I was a brat last night and I have to share it with y’all because I cannot stop laughing about it.

Important note before I get into the story: Squid is my cousin (14).

Fun fact about the note: I was babysitting him about 7ish years ago overnight, woke up with a massive headache. He tried to show me a drawing he had done and I tried to say “that’s so cute, kid,” but what came out was “Squid.” He was like “did you just call me Squid??” and it stuck.

Squid has a Xbox in his room and he generally uses it to play Spotify on. When I open Spotify on my phone, it asks me if I want to join Squid’s jam. Most of the time, I say no.

Last night, I decided to say yes.

I added the song “Feel Good, Inc.” by the Gorillaz to the queue. I’m giggling to myself from my room across the hall. The song starts and he immediately skips it.

“That little shit,” I said while adding the song to the queue again. I let his current song get to about the halfway mark before I skipped to my song and turned the volume up.

Suddenly, I’ve been kicked from the jam session, and I laughed so hard I couldn’t breathe. Squid came into my room: “what the fuck are you doing?” He’s mad and I’m crying with laughter. “I know it was you! It told me that Yeet joined the session!!”

I collected myself a bit and wiped my eyes. “It’s a good song, isn’t it?”

He groaned and went to leave the room. He spun around. “You aren’t going to do it again, are you?”

“No, of course not!” I said while giggling again.

“Why do I not believe you,” he grumbled while leaving my room and closing the door.

I waited. I bided my time. About an hour has passed and I knew he was about to fall asleep.

I opened Spotify again. I joined the jam again…

I queued up “Feels Good, Inc.” by the Gorillaz again and I wait. Patiently. I let his long ass (8 minutes!!) song play out.

My song started.

The screech that came from his room had me laughing so hard I almost peed myself.

#I’m a brat #sometimes you have to be a shit #is this physiological torture?#my squid hates that song #Spotify jam session #feels good inc - Gorillaz #personal #sometimes you just gotta do the thing #I thought it was funny #so did everyone else #except squid #oh well

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slowandsteddie · 2 days

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When Steve gets to his last year at Hawkins High, it feels like some kind of veil has been lifted right in front him. Or maybe it’s more that the veil’s actually been slowly lifting for years, and he’s noticing it all the more because it’s no longer there.

Either way, when he receives his yearbook, it doesn’t seem like the huge deal that his younger self would’ve made it out to be; he flicks through the pictures half-heartedly, doesn’t even care when the candid ones taken at sporting events catch him in unflattering poses, lip jutting out in concentration.

If he tried to voice his disinterest, Henderson would probably spout off some precocious shit about societal expectations, and Steve would pretend to nod sagely before stealing whatever dorky hat he happened to be wearing—it’s not like he could let the little shit suspect that he occasionally had a point, Steve would never hear the end of it.

The yearbook signings are predictably inescapable: people passing their books back and forth in class or in the cafeteria—and that one’s a risky move, with the threat of drinks spilling on the pages, whether accidental or malicious.

Steve thinks the fever’s dwindled out until he spends a free period in the school library. The seniors typically all bunch together in one of the far corners, the spots with the comfiest seats—loners included, like the perks of age for once outweigh the usual ridicule.

But that silent truce is not exactly being upheld, Steve notes—Eddie Munson is sitting alone at a nearby table.

It becomes painfully obvious when the signing starts up again. There’s a cluster of girls on the yearbook committee who initiate it, and soon every senior in reach is either passing over their own book or signing one.

Almost every senior.

It’s not like Eddie’s the only person ever to be held back. He’s not even the only one to be held back for next year, either: John Nelson off the swim team is in the same position, and he’s still been asked to sign.

But Steve knows that’s not what the source of exclusion is, not really.

He’s gotten good at spotting silent cruelty—good at avoiding it too, before his popularity gave him a temporary shield.

It’s all just bullshit, he thinks. It’s been a recurring thought lately.

He brings out his own yearbook because he knows it’s expected. When it’s finally passed back round to him, he ends up right near the seat opposite Eddie’s, just by chance.

But actually sitting there is his own choice.

He can tell that Eddie has spotted him even though he’s not looked up from whatever homework he’s doing; there’s a silent tension in the way he’s holding his pen.

Steve mulls it over before he asks the question. It could blow up in his face, but what did that matter, really? In the grand scheme of things, it would hardly count as a major embarrassment; it’s not like it’d be any more mortifying than telling his dad that he didn’t get into any colleges whatsoever.

So he pushes his yearbook across the table, because what the hell.

“Wanna sign?”

Eddie glances up. There’s a guarded look in his eyes, and Steve can almost hear him mentally replaying the question.

“Pardon?” Eddie says with pointed emphasis, like he’s daring Steve, let it drop and we’ll say no more about it, Harrington.

Steve doesn’t take it back. He shrugs and flicks open the yearbook, finds a blank spot and taps it once with his finger, a silent offer.

Eddie stares like Steve’s a riddle, like he’s wondering just who the show’s for—but the other students have turned away, have gone back to their seats, yearbooks temporarily forgotten.

Eddie’s hold on his pen relaxes, ever so slightly.

“You sure, Harrington?” he says. There’s still a wary edge to his voice, but there’s an undercurrent of something else, too, like he’s secretly amused despite himself. “Haven’t you heard what folks say? I could curse you.”

Steve scoffs. “That all you’ve got? I’ve dealt with way worse, man,” he says mildly.

A corner of Eddie’s mouth twitches into a surprised smile. Then it’s gone almost like it had never been in the first place, his gaze turning thoughtful rather than defensive.

And obviously this isn’t Eddie’s first rodeo at the whole senior year thing. Steve wonders if there’s a veil that’s been lifted for him too, wonders if he can see straight through it right now.

The bell rings.

Eddie stands up, gathering his stuff.

Steve thinks that’s the end of it: something that’s neither a success or a failure.

But then, lightning fast, Eddie darts across the table and scribbles something on the open page. Slams the yearbook shut and pushes it back over, and it feels like a challenge, like some of his caginess is back—like he’s just daring Steve to reveal that it had been a joke all along—

“Bet you’re counting down the days till you can hold your own copy, huh?” Steve says dryly, as he stuffs the book into his bag.

It’s a risk; he knows Eddie could easily take it as pure ridicule, could misinterpret it as Steve throwing the failed school years back in his face.

Eddie just shakes his head, but he could be laughing—the moment’s gone too quickly for Steve to know for sure.

“Nah, Harrington,” Eddie says easily, thrown over his shoulder as he leaves, “those things aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on.”

Steve doesn’t check the yearbook until he’s home. He eventually finds Eddie’s signature, simple black ink right in the upper corner of one page.

Good luck, Steve. —Eddie

Some of the letters are bunched a little too close together, drifting upwards on the blank page, as if they usually need lined paper to guide them—left-handed, Steve thinks vaguely.

Within a sea of scrawled nicknames and loudly enthusiastic messages, Steve finds that he kind of likes how mundane Eddie’s truly is. Likes the sign off with minimal fuss. Just “Eddie.” Likes how he was just “Steve”, too.

And yeah, if anyone needed to be told good luck, Steve thinks, with the kind of amusement that only comes from distance—pictures his past self, freaking out about monsters come to life.

He slots the yearbook into his bookcase. By summer he might forget about it all together, left to gather dust as he works for 3 bucks an hour, but for now he marks its significance: something real, hidden alongside the bullshit.

#tbr pile

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slowandsteddie · 2 days

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Eddie and Robin taking Steve as their 'token golden retriever straight friend' to a queer bar in indy only it has a rodeo bull and subsequently Steve ends up going home with literally almost every single phone number in that place cause

"I got an uncle with a ranch over in Texas, didnt I tell you that Robbie?"

#tbr pile

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slowandsteddie · 2 days

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Steddie lunchbox fic I joked about but then people liked it so now I'm. I'm write it now.

"Hey, Munson!"

Eddie ducked his head down before the blow could hit. Tommy Hagan was one of those men who never outgrew his highschool jock phase, and seemed intent on dragging the rest of the world into his football role playing; not so gentle head smacking included.

He blow never came, instead the heavy metal thunk of a lunchbox landed on his desk. He chanced an eye open, and took in the neat black tin box, no two boxed which stacked perfectly and were secured in place with a patterned cloth. He opened the other eye and instead looked to Tommy, waiting for some sort of explanation.

"the missus packed it up for me," the younger man explained, his eyes off to the side where some co-workers were gathering to make lunch plans, "real pain if I'm honest, how about you take it off my hands for me?" Then he grinned down at Eddie and clapped his should, too hard, like they were regular old office pals.

It wasn't like they were office enemies, per se, but Eddie had a distaste of Tommy and while the feeling certainly seemed mutual they were srupid enough to let petty distaste interfere with their pay checks. Eddie would certainly never do Tommy any sort of favour if it wasn't by obligation to his working contract, and Tommy had certainly phrased this as if it was a favor so... So Eddie instinct screamed to rebuff him.

Except it was lunch time, and Eddie was hungry, and he hadn't packed his own lunch because his fridge had probably three things in it max and he couldn't afford to go out to eat since most of his paycheck had already been dolled out to rent, his uncle, his savings, and he only had money for absolute necessities. Even as he sat in indecision he could feel his stomach writhing and slithering in on itself. Shit, had he forgotten breakfast to?

"Sure," he responded, and then quickly tacked on,"man." There was a moment of silence that made Eddie feel like he ought to crack a joke, but Tommy seemed to decide for them both that was a bit chummy, even for his sports team larping. Instead he landed a solid whack, right where the last one had landed, then spun around and jogged to catch up with the other Alphas on their way out to lunch.

The office had emptied out in the span of their conversation and now cubicles sat still with their roller chains sprawled haphazardly as if evacuated in some emergency instead of a quick shuffle in hopes of skipping the worst of the lunchtime queues. Eddie decided to forgo the company cafeteria and instead snatched a pack of cigs out his backpack and scooped up the packed lunch. He could eat on the roof, since the fire doors alarm hadn't worked since he was hired and nobody bothered going up there in the heat of the day.

It wasn't that Eddie was exceptionally antisocial at work, or loathed ALL his coworkers. He actually had a few friends, Jeff and Gareth in the IT department would tolerate him during lunch breaks, and they'd even met up a few times outside of work. They were cool, he liked spending time with them, might even call them friends in a month or two. But spending all morning on the top floors, in marketing and branding and surrounded by other Alphas, Eddie probably wasn't much fun to be around at the moment.

The corporate world and Alphas went together like honey and ants. The opportunities to compete and peacock were nigh endless, not to mention doing well wouldn't net you a hefty income for some extra peacocking on the side. Eddie wasn't like that, his Alpha didn't operate that way. So much so even he had been surprised when his second puberty hit and he dropped fang and knot. The kids at school had snickered and called him a half-bit Alpha, while others said he only presented that way because his sole guardian was a lone omega. It had hurt at the time, but looking back Eddie couldn't help but laugh. Maybe he was a half-bit, maybe he presented wrong because of some base instinct to protect his uncle. He certainly didn't prance around like the other alphas did, bickering and shoving like little kids fighting over a toy.

But maybe that was the joke Tommy was playing on him, Eddie thought as he popped the lunchbox and saw the note sat neatly to the side. Maybe Eddie was too much of a bitch-Alpha to get a mate, while Tommy with all his flouncing and team player make belive had someone waiting at home, making him lunches and writing sweet love notes signed with a kiss. Maybe the joke was to give Eddie a taste of something he could never have.

Goodluck with work today, please bring home some avacados for guac. Love you - Steve.

Eddie stared at the note in his trembling hand. He could smell the omega- Steve - from where his lips had pressed to the paper. Unmated. Surprising, but not unusual. Plenty of couples got married first, then sealed the bite later on. Some Yuppie thing that Eddie was far too romantic to entertain. If you loved someone, wouldn't you want that commitment forever? But the again, Tommy and his sneer around the word "missus" gave Eddie the impression he wasnt the "forever" sort. Further more, a male Omega? Most people were somewhat hesitant to be associated with one, if not outright hostile to their very existence. Far too rare to be ordinary, and far too Omega to be respected male Omegas were almost never on an up and coming Alphas radar of potential mates.

Eddie slipped the note into his pants pocket, and lit his cigarette before turning back to the lunch box. Black oval tins, two stacked and tied with a floral cloth. A bento, he realised, he'd seen it on the cover of house and home in the checkout line. The hot new craze in lunchboxes. Tha made him snicker a little. The floral cloth seemed odd, and stuck out against the black metal. The material was smooth and soft, like brand new. Huh. The tins themselves had some scuff marks, and one had a dent on its edge that spoke of a life of use. He set them down, side by side, on the laid out cloth. It looked fancy, but also surprisingly homey and inviting. It looked delicious.

The Omega- Steve had outdone himself. The top tin contained two halves of a prego roll stuffed to bursting with marinated shredded chicken. The meat was cradled between lettuce leaves to keep the bread from going soggy, and Eddie could catch sight of some glistening tomatoe slices in there. The second tone had an orange, peeled with each slice individual cleaned of any white hairy bits and laid on a bed of some gummy fruit candy. Apple sliced were laid in a separate tin, still shinning with lemon juice and not a spot of brown to be seen. Slid neatly into the side, half hidden, has the familiar pink white of coconut ice for desert.

Eddie could feel his mouth watering. Holy shit, did Tommy eat like this everyday? And if he did what was wrong with him that he'd give it up for some second rate slop at a restaurant? Breathing deeply he could smell the food, but beneath that something else, something tempting. Steve, his hands delicately pulling the chicken from the bone, slicing the tomatoe, cradling the bread as he buttered it, his nails catching and pulling off every white part from the orange slices. His hard work, his effort, laid before Eddie like some sort of worshipful offing. He felt high when he bit down on the orange slice, the caress of it's soft inner skin along his gums, like a kiss. The burst of flavour on his tongue, sweetness invading his sense so all he could see was orange orange orange leaving the bitter taste of citrus. He could taste, most importantly, beneath it all. God he could taste Steve. He could taste his love.

"Oh, thanks man," Tommy didn't look up from his computer as he said it, just kept tying away. "No problem man," Eddie mumbled back, eyes fixed on the lunchbox and he's straightened it on the other alphas desk. Every crumb had been kicked up, every smear of sauce sucked away. But placed gently, reverently, back in the top box was the love note. Eddie wanted to give Steve something in return, to thank him for sharing something so magical, so special with him. In the end he'd decided against it, could work up the courage to indirectly challenge Tommy like that. Instead, he'd pressed his lips tightly to where Steve's had once been, before returning it to its rightful owner.

The words Love You sat nestled in the tin as Eddie walked away.

Part 2 exists now

#tbr pile

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slowandsteddie · 2 days

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Note to Self:

You are allergic to lavender.

Smelling it gives you instantaneous headaches, what did you think drinking it was going to do?

(In my defense, I didn’t fully read the ingredients list and I only took one drink.)

It doesn’t matter how good the tea smells or tastes. It will fight back. You will have to take at least two allergy pills to avoid going to the hospital.

Victorian London Fog might be delicious, but it is also a menace AND not worth it.

It is the next day and you are still scratching your neck and chest.

#allergies #allergic to lavender #the tea fought back #maybe if I make a joke about it I’ll remember to not do it again #personal

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slowandsteddie · 2 days

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I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind)

pt. 1

🐝･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

June 1996, Chicago

Steve doesn’t exactly know when Eddie Munson became one of his best friends, let alone when he fell in love with him.

He supposes both things occurred between the end of the world, and Eddie’s back walking out the door for the last time, unbeknownst to anyone. Though, that is five years of time, who’s to say when it really happened.

Dustin will argue the friend part. He likes to think it was he who brought them together (it certainly wasn’t; in fact, it put a real bump in the road for them). Dustin also thinks, which Steve is more inclined to think is true, that the two of them had become friends during Eddie’s slow recovery and Steve’s guilt complex, which made him feel responsible for him.

Which—ouch, Dustin—but years of therapy would prove him right.

Little shit.

Dustin doesn't know about the love part, though, and Steve doesn’t think much of the party knows except for one or two of the perceptive ones.

Looking at you, Lucas.

Robin likes to argue that Steve doesn’t know when he fell in love with Eddie because Eddie was different from everyone else.

Steve puts everything into love, moves fast, falls hard, and ultimately gets crushed by his own passion. Steve doesn’t know how to take things slow or wait around for the right person.

Until he did, with Eddie.

Steve managed to have a slow decent into the madness of loving a man like Eddie Munson. And he never did anything about it, although he didn't mind. Steve was okay with just being friends and loving from afar.

Until they weren't even that, and Eddie was gone.

Steve can't think about that now, instead he should probably worry about the man himself breaking into his apartment at 3 a.m.

"Get. Out." Robin hisses, breaking Steve from his thoughts.

Suddenly, Eddie stands. His hands thrust forward in a placating nature, and nervous energy radiates off of him. "Robin, please—"

"No, Munson. You don't get to disappear from our lives for five years, and then break into our apartment!" Robin whisper shouts, the metal bat waving around in her grip.

Steve still hasn't said anything, still unsure of any of it is really happening. But he can't help but warm at Robin's fierceness.

She will go down swinging for Steve, even against someone she cares about.

Fuck, he loved her.

"Give me one good reason not to bash your skull in with this thing, Munson. I dare you!" Robin took the metal bat and pushed it into Eddie's chest.

Steve gets a good look at him as he stumbles backward. He doesn't look much different—well that's a lie. He does look different; more tattoos, more piercings and Steve is pretty surprised to catch him wearing anything other than a band tee. It is just so all quintessentially Eddie. The jewelry is all silver, any tattoo he got after 1986 appears to be in black and red ink only. Even his tee is still black despite the lack of a band on the front.

"Birdie, I don't think you should have Steve's bat in your hands, you're a bit dangerous." Eddie tries to grab the bat from her hands but Robin yanks it back.

"Oh, fuck you, Munson! You don't get to call me Birdie, and this is my bat. Steve's is wooden and full of nails and underneath his bed. You should know that, or has the last five years really rotted your brain?" Robin is now waving the bat around with gusto, nearly missing Steve's head at one point.

Trying to shake himself from his frozen state, Steve decides it is probably in everyone's best interest if he steps in.

"Robs." Steve speaks gently, hand on the bat as he slowly lowers it down. Her shoulders drop, the fight draining out of her in seconds. "It's okay."

It's not okay. Steve doesn't understand what's happening right now. But Steve is okay as long as he has Robin, and Robin has him. Steve hopes she understands that's what he meant.

Robin nods her head, and shuffles closer to him.

Steve takes a shaky breath, "What are you doing here, Munson?"

Eddie cringes at the use of his last name but doesn't comment. "Listen, I know it's weird me just stopping by suddenly—"

Robin snorts, "I wouldn't exactly call breaking in 'stopping by'."

Eddie shakes his head, ignoring her. Stray curls start to fall loose from their bun. "I just want to talk, for you guys to hear me out."

Steve rubs a hand down his face, he is getting too old for this stuff. Being blindsided, being surprised—being thrown sideways and upside down. Sure, twenty-nine isn't exactly old, but Steve has lived practically six different lifetimes by now. There is so much damage to him—physically and emotionally. He is supposed to be past nonsense like this.

Robin takes his silence as permission to snip at Eddie, "No. Go away, Eddie. You don't get to do that. Get out."

Eddie moves a step forward, he is now illuminated completely by the side table's light. He looks tired—good but tired. It's not the kind of tired you see of someone in distress, not the ache that comes along in the tunnel that has no light in the end. No, Eddie looks tired in the way that comes with healing. Like working hard exhaustion. As if coming home from a long but good day at work, and the night grows weary.

Eddie opens his mouth to argue, but Steve cuts him off. "It's fine, Robbie. It's late; let him crash on the couch."

Eddie's shoulders sag in relief, "Thanks, Stevie, we can talk—"

"No." Steve chokes out, moving his hand towards his throat so he can remember to breathe. "You don't get to call me that. And we're not talking about anything. You'll sleep here, but that's it. I might not want you here, but it doesn't mean I'm going to let you wander the streets at night."

"Steve, please—" Eddie reaches out his hands to touch Steve. It is most likely going to be a gentle touch, but Steve can't help the way he violently flinches.

Eddie looks taken aback, eyes wide and full of sadness. He pulls his hands back.

"No, Eddie." Steve grabs Robin's hand and starts to pull her to bed. She doesn't protest and instead leans into his touch. Steve turns over his shoulder to look at Eddie again. "You'll stay the night. It's not an option. But my morning? I want you gone. I don't want you to be the first thing I see after sunrise."

Steve turns quickly back around, ignoring the pained grunt from behind him.

Bypassing Robin's bedroom, Steve pulls them both into his. Robin doesn't question it and instead makes herself comfortable in his forest green blankets.

Steve quickly follows after, snuggling into the bed beside her. People have thought them weird over the years—always in each other's spaces and knowing every little thing about each other. Partners, friends, family—all of them had something to say about it, never even bothering to understand.

Well, except Eddie. Eddie appreciated it, accepted it. Adored it at times.

"Are you really okay with this, Dingus?" Robin whispers softly between them.

"No." Steve never lies to Robin; she'll know. "Not at all, but I'm not going to let him wander the streets, no matter what I loved him at some point. I don't let the people I loved, get hurt."

Robin squints in pity, "Loved?"

"Not now, Bobbie," Steve whispers.

Robin nods, "Besides, I'm pretty sure 'Ed Sloane' can afford a fucking hotel room."

Steve lets out a loud snort, it echoes throughout the room. "God, don't remind me. What a stupid fucking name."

The two of them dissolve into giggles, bumping their heads together. Under the covers, they clasp their hands together tight. "I just don't want you to derail your life, for someone who walked so easily out of it. I know you have that important lunch with Drew tomorrow."

Steve takes a breathe through his nose, "Yea, I do. But it'll be fine. He'll be gone before I'm even up. You know Eds, he's a runner. Wouldn't stop trying to prove it, in fact."

Robin's face is scrunched in pain, and her eyes pool with pity. It's as if she knows something Steve doesn't or sees something he chooses to ignore. She doesn't comment on it, though. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, "Eds?"

It isn't snippy or accusing. Her voice is soft against his cheek. Steve doesn't have the mental capacity to argue though. "G'night, Birdie."

"Goodnight, Stevie." She whispers.

Steve closes his eyes, knowing it will all feel like a dream tomorrow.

Steve is familiar with having dreams with Eddie in them.

🐝･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

more to come i promise, especially after your (loving demands). especially my mutuals who yelled at me in the tags and my dm's (it made my day).Part 3 is currently being typed up. Also might fuck around and make this a full-blown ao3 one shot; who knows.

tag list!:

@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic @slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec @goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch @ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso

(please let me know if you don't want a tag, I had to guess by the comments)

#tbr pile

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