#morrington

[asksurvivorfrank]

:) ...and they were roommates.

[instasiswetrust]

"Holy shit the school bad boy's courting you." Dustin whispered in disbelief as he stared at both the pin and the worn bloodied bat Steve had settled between them on the table.

"Wait, he's what?" Steve frowned, fingers picking up the pin adorned with a creepy smiling face. "No way."

"No, I'm serious Steve. This is like straight-up Jason Todd style courting. He totally kicked the whole baseball team's ass for you."

“That’s ridiculous man, Frank wo-” He ended up stopping mid-sentence because actually, Frank would. He definitely would. Everyone had heard the beating he had given Billy for smacking Hak-Quinn’s ass the other day, it made sense he would go against the baseball team as his way of proving he could provide for him.

Realization crossed Steve's face, lips forming a small surprised ‘oh’ while Dustin just shook his head as if he couldn't believe it had taken Steve this long to realize he was being courted.

"So what are you gonna do?" The younger boy asked, stealing a couple fries from Steve's plate before the other could react.

"What do you mean what I'm gonna do?" He said weakly, slapping Dustin's hand away when he tried to reach for more fries.

"What do you mean, what do I mean?" And it was clear in his tone he knew Steve was acting like this on purpose. "Are you gonna accept his courting, or tell him no?"

The Omega blushes, immediately flustered by the question. Having thought he would be a Beta or an Alpha for most of his life, he had known the whole courting thing would've eventually fallen on him to do it. Now with the roles reversed, he couldn't help but feel flattered by the gestures.

"Look, I don't know, maybe I will talk to him about it or something." Dustin seemed to catch the finality in his words because he finally changed topics, asking Steve instead about how Demo was faring.

Still, he had already made up his mind on this topic.

By the end of classes the next day, he hunted down the self-proclaimed leader of Legion. Steve might've been an Omega sure, but he was also taller and had the body of an athlete. Even so, he believed it wouldn't have been so easy for him to cage Frank against the wall had the Alpha not allowed him to.

"Are you... Are you courting me?" He cut right to the chase, wanting to make sure it wasn't all in his head.

"Been trying my best, yeah." Frank had a jackal grin on his face, looking up at Steve. Not intimidated in the slightest, with a flicker of something in his eye that stirred something up in Steve's gut. Something strange and new and not at all bad. "You like?"

Steve didn't answer with words. Doubts he even could. Instead leaned down and kissed Frank hard. Kissed him until they were both out of breath, Steve's cheeks flushed a pale red. A wide grin stretched his lips when he finally pulled away.

"Friday, 7 pm. I'll pay for the movie tickets if you smuggle in the food. Deal?"

"I got a key to the theater's back door. No need to spend money on me, doll." Frank's grinning again, all sharp cheekbones and even sharper fangs.

"You kick the whole baseball team's ass for me, and I don't get to spend a couple bucks on you? Unfair." And yeah maybe he was pouting, but really it didn't sit well with him not to repay Frank in some way after the way he left the baseball team.

"If you insist, ain't gonna put up a fight. Just thought I'd tell ya if you wanted to trade emptying your wallet for a little thrill." Frank shrugged, grin still solid on his face. Reaches out to cup Steve's face. "Comes with the bad boy package, y'know?"

Steve couldn't help leaning into the touch, eyes never straying from those stormy grey irises. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, dripping with honesty. "I think I would like to find out."

Frank laughed and Steve found himself liking the sound way more than he expected. It was rough and relaxed and shameless.

"Be happy to show ya, doll."

And Steve had to admit the excitement of knowing he had an actual date was enough to keep his mind off the bullying and taunts for the remaining days of the week.

Frank meets him at the theater entrance, right on time. Steve, who had walked the whole way here so as to not have to explain to his parents where he was going, is thankful that he will be able to catch a ride once the movie is done.

As promised Steve pays for two tickets then Frank drags him into another movie after the first movie ends, and another one after that. Steve doesn't feel like complaining, even if the movie genres are all over the place. He's having fun and this is the most he's broken the rules after the whole omega thing.

And really, if they makeout halfway through the second movie and end up missing half the bullshit plot, Steve only has Frank to blame. He kept heckling the cheesy bits under his breath making Steve laugh until he was hiding snorts behind his hand.

It's around midnight when they finally leave the theater, and as soon as they step outside Steve's phone starts ringing. His parents on the other end of the phone, angry because Steve's being careless.

"You should be more careful! What if something happened to you? And shouldn't you be worried about studying? You already lost that baseball scholarship-"

He must've made a face or something because Frank snatches the phone from his hand. Quick reflexes and firm grip. It takes Steve by surprise.

"Hello, Mister .. Missus Harrington -" He starts, and he's determined to take the weight off Steve as best he can and he's no Fairfield and he's certainly not Hak-Quinn, but he can play a part good enough for a phone call. "The movie ran a bit later than expected, but I'll see your son home safe and sound!"

And before his parents have any chance to respond, Frank hangs up.

Steve is stunned for a whole five seconds, blinking at Frank, before what happened sets in and he groans. "Ah shit, now they are gonna want to meet you!"

"I got makeup in my car," Frank says, clicking his tongue as he hands back the phone. "Nothing I can do about the hair."

And Steve looks at Frank dumbly for a second. Confused because, why would Frank need makeup?

"Tattoo. For hiding the tattoo." Frank waves a dismissive hand as he slings his other around Steve's waist. Comfortable. Warm. Close. "Hak-Quinn taught me how."

Steve is dumbfounded. "You would... For me? Wha-"

"... Well duh?" He kinda looks at Steve, confused himself. "I'm not exactly the kind of person people are proud to bring home but it stresses you out so I can play pretend." He raises an eyebrow, grins again, like a feral dog. "Unless you'd rather I show up as is? Full punk?"

"Oh. Oh Frank no, I'm not ashamed of being seen with you." Steve shakes his head, rolling his eyes. "I just know my parents and they will try to prevent me from seeing you. I don't want that to happen, that's all."

Frank looks at Steve. And he's quiet for a moment. And then a softer smile steals across his face.

"You have no idea how you smell right now, do you?"

Steve flinches a little, looks away, but he knows Frank's question is honest, not a jab. "I'm scent blind actually. Doc said it would get better with time but I can't recognize my own scent at all."

"You smell miserable, doll. Not too keen on handing you back to the cause of it, y'know?"

And then Frank scents him. It's light. Polite, even. But Steve knows the action even if he can't smell what it does.

Skin on skin contact and the soft rumbling purr of an alpha.

It kinda hits him then that he's not alone anymore. Frank cares. Cares enough to willingly offer to hide parts of himself just so Steve wouldn't get too hard a time with his parents. It's easily the most thoughtful thing someone that is not Dustin or Nancy, has done for him. Can't help it if he tears up a little.

"Waitin' on your answer, doll," Frank murmurs, probably aware of how Steve is feeling thanks to his scent. "Makeup will take a hot minute and we're gonna have to get you home .. eventually."

Steve ends up shaking his head, surreptitiously wiping a tear or two off his cheeks. "I'm not gonna hide you like you're something to be ashamed of. I'll just deal with them if they get too pushy."

"Cute." Frank's grin returns and he steals himself a kiss before pushing Steve towards his car.

They drive too fast and blast the music too loud. Steve doesn't know any of the lyrics, the music too far off from his usual tastes, but when he tries to somewhat sing along and Frank rewards him with a heart-stopping grin? Worth it.

As expected, Steve's parents are at the door when they arrive. Disappointed face, even more, disappointed scents. Steve's mom is glaring at Frank, his dad is just looking at Steve like he's a lost cause.

"Mister Harrington. Missus." Frank's got a jackal's grin on his face again, and Steve can't smell it, but his scent is twined around the anxious omega like an extra buffer.

It's amazing how Frank doesn't even care about the venom in his parents' eyes, writing him off near immediately with his dyed hair and throat tattoo and grunge aesthetic.

Steve's parents don't even deign to give a response, just march back inside and wait for him to follow after them.

"I had fun, thank you. I will see you tomorrow." Steve murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to Frank’s cheek before going in and closing the door behind him.

They barely waited until the door was closed before they started demanding answers. Frank probably hadn't even left, but they didn't care and Steve hated it. Hated all of it.

His night had been amazing, maybe even the best night he had had this year, but that call had to ruin it.

Before presenting, when they had still thought he would be a Beta or a late Alpha, his parents wouldn't have bothered calling him for a night out. As long as he was home for breakfast, everything was fine. These days though, they had become protective to the point it was bordering on controlling and it bothered Steve.

Maybe he should be glad that they were trying to show they cared but it was hard to do when their words were “Stop putting yourself in unnecessary danger that will just cause more trouble for us.” and not “We are just worried something will happen to you.”

Ever since the goddamn results came back, it was always about them. How this would be a problem for them. How losing the scholarship meant they would have to invest more money in him. How Steve getting involved with a delinquent would look on them.

They don't bother asking how he is coping with it all. The changes in his body, the bullying at school they know nothing about, how he had to give up the sport he loved because society decided Omegas weren't made to be in sports. For God's sake, he had cried the morning he received the letter notifying him his scholarship had been suspended. But either they didn't know about that, didn't realize, or didn't care.

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself, young man?” His dad demanded, disappointment emanating from every pore in his body.

Steve might've been scent blind, but familiarity and time had allowed him to distinguish his parents' scents and the shifts in their emotions. Because of this, he wasn't spared from the full brunt of disappointment, anger, upset coming from both his parents. It was hard not to reflexively make himself appear smaller but he knew that would just make his dad angrier.

"I don't really see what the problem is, dad." He said, running a hand through his hair and sighing in exasperation. "I told you guys I would be out till late, and that I was going out with a friend. You had the location of the movie theater too. So what really is the problem here?"

"When you said you would be going out with a friend, we thought you meant that nice girl Robin, or maybe the Wheeler's kid, Nancy. You guys made such a cute couple, Stevie." His mom interjected, her tone softer but no less upset than his dad's had been.

"Mom, please. Nancy and I broke up a year ago already, will you drop it? Plus Robin is not even my type!"

"Of course because apparently, your type is no-good delinquents, you have made that clear." His dad snapped, glaring down at him.

Steve frowned, glaring back at him. "Frank is a classmate and a friend. He defended me when the baseball team started labeling me as a slut just because I'm an Omega. I think that's more than either of you have done about this!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Steve knew he had made a mistake. His dad's nostrils flared and his mother gasped like maybe they were sensing something he wasn't. At least his dad might've because his mother was as scent blind like him, maybe worse. There was a reason scenting was something he didn't know how to do properly.

"Can't believe you needed the help of someone like that to defend yourself. Didn't we teach you to stand up for yourself, Steve? Or do you think just because you are an Omega now you get to play the weak card?" His dad snarked, eyes narrowed.

"Honey-"

"No." His dad shook his head, ignoring his mother's hand on his shoulder. "You are to stop any contact with that delinquent. Now to your room, Steve."

"Wha- Dad-"

"To your room, I said." He didn't yell but the growl was so clear in his voice that Steve couldn't help but flinch and lower his head.

Fine. He would play to their rules while they were watching, but like hell he would give up on what he and Frank had. Not after he had just gotten it.

[asksurvivorfrank]

No context Morrismithton doodles, we all die like survivors being facecamped

[asksurvivorfrank]

Since some of y'all seemed to like the other set of Morrington doodles I did u//u Ghost AU...featuring freckled Stevie and a stupid dirt boy Behavior found in the garbage.

[instasiswetrust]

Everything about his house, he hates.

Hates every corner filled with memories that were once happy and now echo off the walls in a bittersweet song of melancholy.

Hates how he instinctively knows to skip the third stair on the second story stairwell because the wood is old and creaks like hell.

Hates the old garden, manicured to perfection by gardeners he knows more than he knows his own parents.

Hates the attic where he made his first nest as a child despite not knowing what a nest even was but it was comfortable and it was his.

Hates the living room with the faint scent of tobacco from the cigarettes his dad smoked while they watched football on the TV and Steve pretended his apple juice was white wine like the one his mom always drank.

Hates the pool and the way it reminds him of the time his mom once took a whole week off work just to teach him how to swim.

Hates the way he can't remember his parents being in the house for more than three days after his thirteenth birthday.

His parents are gone, his partners wait for him in the car, and Steve's been staring at the door with its faded mahogany wood and Christmas wreath for five whole minutes already. Nothing stops him from going inside and yet the keys threaten to burn welts into his trembling palms.

Steve's not ready. Doubts there will ever be a time where he is ready. Nothing in life ever prepares you for something like this, really.

But he has to pick up his things and clears his room, and there's something he needs to retrieve at all costs.

So he steps inside. Whatever he had expected to find upon being here again, it's definitely not this.

A part of him, tiny and weak had still held onto the hope that they cared for him. That his memories weren't just memories. That they were just busy, not neglectful.

(And he despises that word. Despises it with everything in him because he raised himself just fine, thank you very much. But his therapist insists that he shouldn't have and "Yes, Steve, what they did was neglect you.")

But what he sees now only seems to hammer in that thought harder than it ever has before, threatening to fill his eyes with tears that he won't be able to control once they start falling.

Because the house is pristine. Untouched. Picture perfect despite the slightly musty smell of humidity that hangs in the air like a simple truth. Everything is the same as the day he left as if not a single person has stepped past the threshold ever since then.

After all, it seems all Steve ever did was hold them back from living the life they had always wanted.

It took all of his years of being conditioned by toxic Alpha rules for him not to burst into tears right in the foyer. Honey brown eyes look at things, but he's detached, barely there anymore. Because if he thinks one more time about all this, he's gonna burst into tears and Legion is going to come in and see him.

What a mess he is. How weak he is. Absolutely undeserving of everything he's ever had or wanted. A burden, in the most literal of senses.

So he doesn't cry, and he doesn't think. Just focuses all of his remaining energy on climbing the steps to his room, and making it past the door still littered with childish stickers of things he once held dear.

Nothing seems to have been touched which is a relief.

Packing up his things is easy work, methodical enough that he can get lost in the mundanity of it and not think about thoughts that he doesn't think he can process just yet.

Clothes and shoes in the suitcases. Meager collection of personal objects inside the boxes. Important pieces of his nest he would loath to part from go in the duffel bag.

And then he finds the photo albums, breath catching in his throat.

The moment he opens it, he knows there's no way he's gonna be able to hold back the tears anymore. So he shoots Julie a quick text and curls up on his broken-up nest, feebly clinging to the album in his arms.

By the time Legion finds him, he's a mess.

[instasiswetrust]

If there was one thing Steve Harrington hated about being an Omega, it was the heats.

The way the media advertised them, like they were some sexy relaxation time for both Alphas and Omegas, had completely blindsided him. Made him believe maybe his heat would be something nice to look forward to.

Steve had been so wrong.

His heat cycle had turned out to be irregular and pretty chaotic. Either it skipped a month or could last over two weeks, leaving him dehydrated, tired, and overall cranky.

Now, if only his heats would at least start at once, that would be fucking cool. Instead, he was stuck spending the first two or three days overheating, his skin sensitive to the smallest touch. Even wearing clothes became so overwhelming that he spent his days buried in his mess of a nest, completely naked.

And that wasn't even mentioning how fucking randy he was all the time.

It was like his left brain decided to take a vacation and left the right side in charge. The only priorities he had were getting dick or getting sleep.

It was annoying, to say the least.

So after three months of dating Frank, and one month of working out how to date the rest of Legion as a whole, he didn't hesitate to ask Frank to help him with his heat.

After all, maybe with an Alpha to share it with, it wouldn't be so bad.

“You don’t need to leave so soon.” Steve slurred against his pillow, turning his head slightly so he could turn half-lidded eyes on Frank who was currently climbing out of his nest.

Steve probably looked as fucked out as he felt, and he couldn't have been more content. By the deep breath he heard Frank take, he guessed he probably smelled like it too.

“‘m not leaving, doll.” Frank muttered, uncharacteristically gentle as he pressed a kiss to Steve’s messy bedhead. “But you need to eat and get some water before your heat spikes again.”

By the face of disgust the brunette made, it was clear what his thoughts were on that. It just made the Alpha chuckle, voice laced with a purr, as he walked over to the mini-fridge. Julie and him had learned pretty quickly from their shared heats with Susie, that Omegas tended to be adverse to any food during their heats.

It was a bit of a struggle getting Steve to eat the yogurt cup completely but with some coaxing in the form of teasing bites to the Omega's scent gland, Frank got him to eat it all and drink the water bottle.

Frank had barely settled back into the nest when he felt a warm body press itself against his side, a warm mouth latching to his pulse point and nipping at the skin there lazily. It made him purr appreciatively, wrapping his arms around the taller Omega's body.

Steve was awfully cute like this, his long wavy hair a tangled mess, pale cheeks red with the heat that thrummed just under his skin, honey brown eyes half lidded and framed by the longest fucking lashes Frank had ever seen on a guy.

Who cared if he was more muscular than the usual Omega, or that he wasn't all effortless curves and wide waist? His little Steve was perfect the way he was and Frank was going to remind him of it until he believed it.

[asksurvivorfrank]

Well ahoy Frankie

[instasiswetrust]

June Prompts, Day 17 - Outdoors

Calloused fingers cup Steve's cheek, the thumb brushing over his bottom lip and smearing blood that's not his over the skin.

A better person would be disgusted. Nauseated. Freaking out in all the ways a human can. The blood is from his friends and even if they will come back, the pain they suffered was still very real.

But something must be wrong with him because instead of pulling away, he leans into the touch. His hand comes up to tentatively hold onto the Frank's arm, as he tries his best to control the flush of his cheeks.

“You don't scare me...” He mutters, eyes fierce despite the softness in them. The hand cupping his cheek twitches for a second.

“Well, maybe I should.”