and that when Steve ever so conveniently walks passed, that the alpha will catch a whiff of sun-ripened apples, lost in memory to today, slurping juices and getting hard at the thought, and make his move. #steddie #eddiemunson #steveharrington

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Steve has never been more obsessed. He would be surprised that Eddie can’t smell him now, slick and wanting, but as it just so happens, his omegan scent of honeycrisp and sun has to be drowned out to a distracted Eddie among the pile of ruined apples. He only hopes that Eddie will be at the dance,

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put him in such a state, he almost gave himself away with whimper, NEEDING to touch himself, needing this alpha to touch him. He had to race home, riding his fake knot and think of Eddie, regretting that he never took a peek that night. But now, here, among the apple trees,

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he heard it, he smelled it. He may have been only been curious, but the scent on the wind caught his omega’s attention and forced him to follow, steered him below Eddie’s open window, senses overwhelmed in alpha musk. The sounds of creaking bedsprings and wafts of spices and alpha cum

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Steve has been following Eddie for weeks. He knows that first time, he was never meant to listen to Eddie fucking his pillow, to know what he sounds like fucking his knot in and out, growling into the sheets, rumbling “omega.” He had just dropped Max off and right before he got in his car,

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