⟡ Anon's Omegaverse Works
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Steve won’t ever be kept and cared for in the way he craves. He won’t ever be held like he’s something small and precious and breakable. He won’t ever be treated softly by virtue of his designation.
He won’t ever have kids in the way that he so desperately wants to.
He won’t ever be an omega.
And if he stays a beta, he can’t be Eddie’s true mate, either. He can’t be his mate at all: the bite won’t stick. The scar won’t manifest and neither will the bond. Their body chemistry won’t allow it. Any attempt at a claim will slide off of his skin like droplets of water and heal right up.
Genetically and physiologically incompatible.
𓆩⟡𓆪
In a world where alpha and omega presentations are triggered by the stress of traumatic events, Eddie Munson presents as an alpha the minute he’s dragged out of the Upside Down and into Hawkins Memorial Hospital.
Steve Harrington has been a beta his whole life.
Series
- Part 1 of ⟡ Anon's Omegaverse Works
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Steve blurts, “I want your sperm.”
The words echo off of the bathroom tile and Eddie is as still as a statue. Nobody moves. Steve feels the mortification rising swiftly like water in a well and he wishes that he could drown in it. It doesn't let him, gathering in his chest and his cheeks and making his entire being tremble with its scope and scale.
Eddie’s quiet for probably ten solid seconds, his face utterly blank and impassive as he processes this statement.
Then he shrugs and starts undoing his belt.
Series
- Part 2 of ⟡ Anon's Omegaverse Works
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Then all of a sudden the moments slow down, filtering through his mind like the sand in an hourglass, and when he blinks he’s got Hargrove pinned up against the brick with his fists.
Hargrove is momentarily too stunned to do anything about it. He’s still got a cigarette dangling from his mouth. He is also sporting a hell of a shiner, which makes something like satisfaction coil up like a snake in Eddie’s belly.
Apparently Steve doesn’t pull his punches, either.
“The fuck did you do to Harrington?” Eddie asks, his voice so low it’s practically a growl.
Series
- Part 3 of ⟡ Anon's Omegaverse Works
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Eddie's chain-smoking cigarettes. Lucky Strikes. In the early September humidity he wears a sleeveless graphic t-shirt and ripped black jeans. He has tattoos all over, long wild hair, and a wicked smile that only widens when he and Steve lock eyes. His grin is sharp, tongue coated in silver, and Steve feels a bit like he’s looking in a mirror.
Eddie looks something like a bad idea.
“Hey,” Steve calls anyway.
He’s grieving. Sue him.
Series
- Part 4 of ⟡ Anon's Omegaverse Works