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#dom steve harrington
ent-is-indecisive · 2 days
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i fucked up my bedtime for this. let them get the care and rest. for day 4 of @subeddieweek : aftercare
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wynnyfryd · 3 days
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He can picture the obituary now: Local loser asphyxiates while trying to scuba dive between beloved swim team captain’s hairy thighs. He leaves behind three ounces of weed, two thrifted amps, and one sick-ass guitar. He died doing what he loved.
Or: Eddie and Steve get snowed in. written by yours truly and @griefabyss69 for @subeddieweek day 3 and beta-ed by @jamiethegardener55 😍
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steddieas-shegoes · 3 days
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i wanna make you love me
for @subeddieweek day three with the prompts brat eddie and wet and choking
rated e | 2,978 words | please check ao3 for tags
Day one:  ao3 | tumblr Day two: ao3 | tumblr
⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕
He’s left on his knees, blindfolded.
There’s no sound in the room, nothing to give away what’s coming next.
Fingers in his hair. Hand around his throat. Lips against his ear.
“You’re helpless like this, aren’t you?”
Eddie whined.
Whining never got him anywhere except in more trouble, and sometimes Eddie really liked being in trouble.
And because Steve was always honest after a scene, he admitted that he loved when Eddie was a brat, loved to see him subtly ignore Steve’s directions and make little noises even when he was supposed to be quiet. Eddie played into it sometimes, but it came naturally for him to ignore orders, even when he was floating away in his head.
The hand around his throat tightened for a moment, barely enough to actually cut off his air, and then disappeared completely.
“I know what you want, but if you can’t be my good boy, you don’t get to have it. You know better,” Steve said from behind him.
Eddie’s hands weren’t tied, they hardly ever were if he was blindfolded. The only time he’d had to safeword was when he’d been tied up in bed and blindfolded with a gag in. He felt too helpless, past the point of enjoying whatever control Steve had and into dangerous territory. But he knew not to move them.
Moving them would mean punishment, and never the kind he actually wanted.
Steve’s fingers tightened in his hair, tugging at his scalp until he had no choice but to let his head fall backwards. He rested it against Steve’s thigh, a smug smile making its way across his face.
“You want me to be your good boy?” Eddie rasped out. “Maybe I don’t feel like being good.”
Steve was quiet for a moment, not even letting out a breath.
“I’m not spanking you.”
Eddie immediately pouted. It’s not that he thought he’d get what he wanted immediately, but that tone was definite, final.
“Not even one time?” Eddie hated not being able to see the look on Steve’s face. “Even if I promise to cry?”
Steve snorted. “I’m sure you’ll be crying soon enough, but it won’t be from my hand on your ass.”
Steve’s leg disappeared from behind him so quickly he nearly fell backwards. He managed to right himself just as Steve’s laugh hit his ears.
“Take away your sight and it’s like you can’t do anything, huh?” Steve teased. “I’ll just wait right here and you let me know when you wanna be good.”
“Hope you’re comfy. Could be a while,” Eddie responded, ignoring the heat on his cheeks at his mild embarrassment. Steve knew exactly what buttons to push and when, but Eddie knew exactly how hard to fight back to get what he wanted.
Steve was quiet. Eddie was quiet.
Everything was still.
Eventually, Eddie sighed. “Are you really gonna try to be more stubborn than me, a brat?”
“You’re barely a brat, Eddie. Just need to learn lessons the hard way, don’t you?” Steve sounded like he was sitting on his bed, but it was hard to know for sure. “I have all night. I’ve got a drink and a comfy bed. I’ll be fine.”
“You know I like being on my knees. I’ll be fine, too.”
Except he wasn’t. Already, all he could think about was how much he wanted to touch Steve, to be touched by Steve. His knees were sore, his arms were sore, his ass was sore from sitting on his feet this long. He was already close to giving in when the sound of Steve’s belt coming off distracted him.
He’d had plenty of thoughts about how that belt could be used before, and wouldn’t really be opposed to any of those options now.
But the belt hit the floor and the bed creaked.
Steve wasn’t using the belt on him. Steve was relaxing in his bed. Probably not even paying any attention to Eddie or his hard and leaking cock.
Fucking rude.
Eddie’s fingers tapped against each other behind his back, maybe a song or maybe just impatience. Probably impatience. His head wasn’t full of anything except irritation at being ignored.
He knew that’s what Steve wanted, for the irritation to win and he would give in to whatever Steve desired. He’d crawl on his hands and knees over to the bed, apologizing for being a brat and begging to be touched, to get his mouth on Steve’s cock, anything.
Eddie would be lying if he didn’t want that, too.
But more than that, he wanted to see what would happen if he didn’t give in for once, if Steve finally got tired of the attitude and did something about it.
Maybe he’d actually, finally fuck him.
Everything they’d done until now had been hands and mouths only, which was amazing and better than anything Eddie could have expected from anyone, let alone Steve.
After a hard day at school, coming back home and knowing that Steve would be over after his shift at Family Video to take care of him or to bring him back to his house to let him get loud would turn his entire day around. It happened often enough that he knew he was becoming somewhat dependent on it. But with nearly two months of this under their belt, Eddie was starting to wonder if maybe he wasn’t the only one with feelings far beyond the trust between friends.
Steve let out a groan.
And then Eddie heard it: the slick noise of him stripping his own cock, probably using the lube from his bedside table. Or his own spit.
God, that made Eddie see red.
It was his job to spit on Steve’s cock, his job to let his hand or mouth be used by Steve so he could get off.
Eddie’s eyes widened as he realized this was Steve’s punishment for him, making him listen to him get off without him.
“Wish that was my hand,” Eddie said with a smirk.
If he played this right, maybe Steve would get desperate enough to give in.
“I bet you do, baby,” Steve replied, breathless, like he was already close to the edge. How long had he been worked up? How had he been so quiet before?
“Or my mouth,” Eddie supplied, feeling a little less confident that Steve would give in.
“Mhm,” Steve said before moaning, his hand speeding up on his cock.
Eddie wanted to watch. He wanted his mouth around him. He wanted Steve’s hands in his hair, pushing him down until he was choking, spit making a mess under them. He wanted to rip this blindfold off and let the image of Steve getting himself off be burned permanently into his brain, used for the nights when Steve was busy shuffling kids around or hanging out with Robin or working a closing shift.
“Can I please watch?” Eddie was desperate, okay? Being a brat came second to seeing Steve’s thick cock leaking precum while he fucked his own hand.
“Oh, I dunno,” Steve’s hand stopped. “I think you should have to listen to me get off since you decided to touch yourself without permission.”
That was how all of this started.
Steve had told him not to touch himself last night when he left the trailer, wanted to see if he could go a few days without it and said he had a plan to make it worth his while.
Of course, Eddie, still wrung out from two back-to-back orgasms from Steve’s mouth, had agreed with no argument.
It didn’t occur to him how difficult that would be until he woke up humping his mattress and whimpering Steve’s name.
He’d done okay the first part of the day, despite the rough start, because he’d overslept and had to rush to school. He made it all the way through his band practice with the guys, skipping the song he wrote about Steve so he wouldn’t face any unexplainable challenges. Made it through dinner with Wayne, though he started to feel a bit jittery when he realized it was nearly seven and Steve hadn’t called to let him know he was leaving work yet.
Those jitters got worse when Wayne left for his night shift, now officially a permanent change to his schedule. It was great for having Steve over, but kinda sucked for the nights when he’d be alone.
He paced the floor, tried playing his guitar, tried smoking.
When the phone rang, Eddie rushed to grab it, only to be told by Steve that he was running a bit late and wouldn’t be able to stay long.
Something in Eddie snapped when he hung up.
His hand immediately went to the button on his jeans, popping it open and shoving his hand down the front of his pants.
Nothing except getting off was on his mind.
That’s how Steve found him: pants at his knees while he fisted his own cock while sitting on the couch waiting for him.
At first, he hadn’t said anything, just stared at him until Eddie stopped moving, chest heaving as he tried to find his breath.
“Get in my car.”
Not even a hello, not even a wave.
He didn’t even stay inside to see if Eddie was listening. He left the trailer and got in his car.
Eddie followed. Of course, he did.
The ride to Steve’s house was silent, radio turned off to add to Eddie’s stress.
He was still rock hard in his pants, and the longer he went without any relief, the more painful it got.
When they got to Steve’s house, he got out, not waiting for Eddie as he walked up to the front door and unlocked it. Eddie stumbled out of the car and into the house, feeling just a bit on edge in more ways than one.
“So I ask you not to touch yourself less than 24 hours ago. I even tell you there’s a reward in it for you if you can do it. And what do you do?” Steve’s arms are folded across his chest as he stands at the foot of the stairs.
“Um. Touch myself?”
“You wanna explain?”
Eddie hated that tone. It sounded like every time a teacher found one of his papers lacking despite all his efforts, or when a cop caught him dealing in the woods last year. It was different when it was Steve, but it still annoyed him, put him on edge.
So he responded as he always did.
“I don’t owe you an explanation.”
And now he was suffering.
Not actually. Like, he wasn’t in pain. He was probably going to come untouched soon just from the combination of everything happening, and the embarrassment of that would probably be emotionally painful, but he’d been through worse.
It was just hard to know he was missing a good show and probably wouldn’t even get to have Steve’s hands on him because he was impatient.
So maybe the punishment was working.
Eddie felt himself whimper.
“Color?” Steve asked, because he was always paying attention, even when Eddie deserved this treatment. He was always more concerned about Eddie being okay.
Eddie evaluated himself. Mentally, he was okay, other than being frustrated. But physically, his legs were starting to actually hurt to a point beyond the kind he enjoyed. He was losing feeling in his feet and hated the pins and needles that came with feeling coming back.
“Yellow.”
Steve was in front of him within seconds, hand on his head, loosening the blindfold.
The blindfold wasn’t a problem. Maybe he could convince him to put it back once he was sitting somewhere more comfortable.
“What do you need, Eds?” Steve’s voice was soft, tender compared to where it had been all night.
“Maybe a chair? Or the bed. My legs hurt.” Eddie blinked up at him, feeling overwhelmed by seeing Steve’s completely naked body in front of him so suddenly.
“Alright. Come up to the bed,” Steve lifted him under his arms, taking most of his weight when Eddie nearly crumbled back to the floor.
His legs were maybe a bit more numb than he realized.
“Shit, baby, why didn’t you say something sooner?” Steve asked as he half-carried him to his bed. “I’m trying to punish you in a sexy way, not an actual painful way.”
Eddie snorted. “I didn’t realize it was this bad. I was kinda lost in my thoughts.”
“You weren’t in space yet, though.”
“No, just thinking about how I’m an idiot and how good you are at knowing exactly what type of punishment gets to me,” Eddie grimaced as he sat back, flexing his knees and ankles to get feeling back in them.
“Well, you like attention and you like being able to touch me, so taking those two things away will definitely get to you.”
“You’re right, but it hurt my feelings, Stevie,” Eddie smiled at him to let him know it didn’t actually hurt him.
“You need anything else?” Steve asked, massaging his legs to get blood flowing again. “Water? Do you need to stop?”
“No, no. I’m good. Maybe just another minute.”
Steve nodded, lifting his leg and kissing his knee.
Eddie watched, swallowed back the words he wanted to say but knew he couldn’t.
This was all he’d have. Just this friendship, this trust, and the care required for a BDSM relationship.
He could keep being okay with that.
“No blindfold though,” Steve said. “You’re gonna watch me take care of myself.”
“But-”
“Nope.” Steve’s hand circled his own cock, not moving, just making it obvious that he was planning on it. “You know what you can do for me, though?”
“What?” Eddie didn’t like the tone of his voice or the growing smile on his face.
“You could spit on my cock, make sure it’s nice and wet for me to get myself off.”
Eddie groaned. He absolutely hated Steve. Hated that Steve was still pushing him in just the right ways. Hated that he actually loved it, never wanted him to stop.
“And if I don’t?” Eddie dared to ask.
“Then I stop now and drive you home.”
Shit. Eddie knew he wasn’t bluffing.
Eddie leaned over, making sure to keep his hands in his own lap, gathered spit in his mouth, and let it drip down onto Steve’s cock.
Steve moaned as it happened, keeping his eyes locked on Eddie’s as he let it pool against his fingers before sliding his hand up and down his length.
Eddie spit again, letting his gaze drop to the way it glistened on Steve’s cock. Mesmerized, Eddie kept his mouth open, letting whatever spit that gathered fall from his mouth.
“Such a good boy for me. Love it when you’re good.” Steve’s other hand nudged Eddie’s face up, eyes piercing him with a hungry look. “Kinda love it when you’re bad, too.”
If Eddie hadn’t already been rock hard for hours, practically edging himself with his own hand and thoughts, then maybe those words wouldn’t have been enough to make him come.
Steve froze, looking down at Eddie’s still twitching cock, the mess he made across his own stomach and thighs. “Holy shit. C’mere,” Steve’s hands grabbed him, tugging him roughly into his lap and spreading the mess of Eddie across both of them and the sheets.
Steve’s lips were hot against his, bruising, rough, unyielding.
Eddie’d never been kissed like that, not even by Steve.
If he could get hard this second from it, he would.
“That was so fucking hot,” Steve gasped against his lips, barely breaking the kiss to speak.
Eddie whimpered, rutting his ass against Steve’s still slick cock, hoping to add to the mess between them.
Steve’s hand ran up his chest, squeezing a nipple between his fingers as he bucked up, seeking more friction. He didn’t need to say anything for Eddie to know he was close.
His hand inched closer to Eddie’s throat, and for a moment, just one, Eddie panicked.
They’d talked about this. Eddie said he wouldn’t trust anyone but Steve, Steve admitted he wouldn’t feel comfortable doing it for anyone but Eddie, they agreed on what to do if Eddie couldn’t talk and needed to safeword out.
But the moment Steve’s fingers wrapped around his throat, Eddie melted.
Steve barely applied any pressure, just let the weight of his hand rest on his skin, holding him with a silent threat and a strength he never used except when he wanted to throw Eddie around and make him feel good.
“Can’t believe how lucky I am,” Steve said against his jaw, frantically chasing his own orgasm while Eddie was barely holding himself up in his lap. “Get to have you like this. All to myself.”
Steve’s breathy whine gave way to his hand falling from Eddie’s neck.
Warmth hit Eddie’s ass and thighs and he realized the angle of Steve’s cock was almost perfect to slide inside him, if he were loose, if he were wet in the right spot. He closed his eyes at the thought of Steve just slipping into him now, no prep. It was nearly enough to have his cock filling again.
“Fuck,” Steve laughed against Eddie’s shoulder. “I love you.”
Eddie tensed.
Steve tensed.
Steve pulled away, panic all over his face.
Eddie didn’t-
He couldn’t-
He got off of Steve’s lap, crashing down to earth.
“Eddie-”
Eddie stood and ran.
He could handle not being loved.
He was used to not being loved the way he needed and wanted to be.
But he couldn’t handle the small flicker of hope being dashed in his chest. He couldn’t handle the pity Steve would show, apologizing for saying something he didn’t mean in the heat of the moment.
He couldn’t handle how much he wanted it to be true.
Day four: ao3 | tumblr
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fuctacles · 3 days
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Marital bliss
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For @subeddieweek Day 3 | E | 1430 | cw: misogynistic roleplay | content warning banner by @cafekitsune | please tell me if I should add a tag | this is wild so bear with me as i try to explain what I just wrote:
pwp, marriage roleplay but its the 50s, wife!Eddie, free use-ish, objectification, degradation, 24/7 dynamics, conservative marriage dynamics, a hint of brat Eddie for funsies
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With another loud clang of the dishes, Eddie was starting to wonder if he should be worrying about the well-being of their kitchenware. Steve would probably be disappointed in him if he broke a plate just because of his slippery fingers. And he wouldn't want to disappoint him. 
It is fun to make him angry sometimes, but that anger comes from a place of love. Not disappointment. 
He tries to put the mug he just rinsed on the rack, but his hand misses, and it lands sideways. He focuses extra hard to put it upright. There were only a couple of plates left, thankfully, so he started scrubbing on them with determination to get done as soon as possible.
"You missed a spot," Steve grunts into his ear, with a particularly hard thrust of his hips. 
Eddie presses his lips together, his grip on the plate tightening.
"Well, you're missing a spot too," he mumbles, unable to help himself. 
Steve freezes. 
"What was that?"
Uh oh.
Eddie's dick twitched while his blood turned cold.
"Nothing," he says innocently, doubling down on cleaning the plate.
Steve doesn't share his sentiment about their tableware, seemingly ready to buy all the plates and dishes that need replenishment, because he pulls him in without a warning. The movement impales him on his dick, getting it impossibly deeper. He whines, balancing on his toes.
"Do you think you deserve it? You're not done with your chores." Steve points out, rolling his hips, and massaging his insides. "Finish the dishes, and I'll think about it."
Eddie gets scrubbing, but that was the wrong move.
Steve bends him over the sink, hand on the nape of his neck. Eddie yelps. His feet are barely touching the ground and the edge of the sink is digging into his hips. 
"Understood?" Steve asks, his voice firm.
"Yes, honey," he manages out. But Steve doesn't let him go, so he angles his arms to reach the plate again and finish cleaning it. He works quickly, aware that if he keeps this angle for too long, his arms will cramp. 
"Good, keep going," Steve praises him, and the words fuel his movements. All the while, his husband’s hips make minuscule movements, just there to remind him about his position. 
"Done," he says soon, planting the last two dishes on the rack. But behind him, Steve clicks his tongue. He freezes.
"Are you sure?"
Eddie scrambles for what he might have done wrong. He knows he needs to find the answer quickly.
"It's like you don't want to get fucked," Steve coos behind him, hips stilling. He's on the verge of disappointment and Eddie can't have it. He's staring at the stray grain of rice in the sink, begging for answers. 
I shouldn't be here, idiot, the rice tells him.
So he turns on the faucet, gives the sink a thorough swipe, and puts the sponge away. 
"How about now?" he asks, the cocky idiot inside him rearing his head out once again.
His answer is a rough push forward into the sink that pushes the air out of him. He scrambles to grip the edges of the sink.
"Perfect, if not for the attitude," Steve tells him. He pulls out of him and slams back in, finally hitting his prostate. He wheezes, choking on his own tongue. "Do you want to be rewarded or punished? I can't tell anymore." He hasn't picked up the pace yet, making shallow thrusts that barely stimulate Eddie. He huffs.
"You're the boss here, you tell me."
Steve pulls him up by his hair and Eddie stumbles back on his feet and into a tight embrace, Eddie's naked body against his clothed one.
"You just don't want to think for yourself, do you?" Steve scoffs. "Want me to do everything for you, huh? Put the food on the table and buy you nice clothes while you clean and cook and get fucked. Is that what you want?"
Eddie was starting to get lightheaded, but he forced himself to swallow and push out some words.
"Mhm. Wanna be a good wife for you."
"Good," Steve growls into his ear, and he sounds satisfied with the answer. Eddie's dick perks up at the praise. "It's all you're good for anyway. Slaving away at home while I'm making money. Thinking of my dick while cleaning the toilet."
Eddie whines, slipping further and further into that sweet space where he was just a hole for his husband to use and fill up.
"Yes, love your dick," he admits breathlessly.
Steve hums into his ear and brushes away his hair to press gentle kisses on his cheek, and his neck, the touch a stark contrast to the scene so far. 
"I think you deserve a treat for all the honesty, don't you?" he asks, but there's something in his tone telling Eddie it's a trick question. He scrambles to find the right answer.
"Uh," he licks his lips. Where did his brain cells go? "I deserve what my husband wants."
A smile stretches against his cheek, and he gets a soft kiss for his words.
"That's the right answer, wifey. And I want to fuck you like the stupid whore that you are."
"Thank you, thank you," he says reverently as he's being bent over again, his face almost hitting the faucet, and fucked into another dimension. 
He grips the metal rod in front of him, mewling at every slam into his prostate, at every move pushing his dick against the cupboards below him. He can feel the bruises forming where his hips are pressing against the counter, but all he thinks of is his husband's pleasure. He wants to be good for him. He keeps the house clean, meals ready and his hole prepared for use whenever Steve feels like slipping in. Be it for relaxing after a day of work, punishing Eddie for neglecting a chore, or rewarding for a tasty dinner. Eddie would do it all with a smile because he loved being there for him. He loved his husband, simple as that.
It feels faster than it is, but his husband comes deep inside him, with a quiet growl right against his ear. Eddie sighs at the feeling of hot seed inside him and pushes his ass up when Steve pulls out and smears the head of his dick around his entrance, making a further mess of his hole. 
"Clean me up," he says, and Eddie turns around on his wobbly legs to sink down on his knees and lick up everything Steve didn't manage to wipe on his skin. He looks up when Steve caresses his cheek and is rewarded with a loving smile. "That's a good whore. My perfect little wife."
Eddie hums with satisfaction, preening at the words. He keeps licking until Steve pulls him away by his hair. He sits back on his hunches and watches his beloved dick get hidden back behind a wall of denim.
"Now, now, stop pouting." Steve tuts, swiping a thumb over his bottom lip. "Up you go, it's your turn."
Eddie needs help getting on his feet, but thankfully, his husband doesn't mind. On the contrary, he seems to find Eddie's useless state amusing.
"My little rag doll," he chuckles as he hauls his wife onto the counter. 
Eddie whines at the feeling of cold stone against his bare and aching ass. He gets a soft kiss on his dazed smile and braces his husband's shoulders when he dives between his legs to finish him off. 
He hits his husband's throat once, twice, before letting out a silent scream of pleasure. Steve doesn't let any of it spill out, like all of his wife was precious and worth keeping. He looks up at him lovingly, kissing his thigh.
"My favorite dessert," he says, making Eddie giggle. He stands up and moves his legs to wrap around his waist. Eddie's grip is weak, but he braces his ass, knowing he can hold his beautiful rag doll up. "I bet you're tired from doing nothing all day, huh?" Eddie nods with a pout. "Want to join me for a nap?" he asks and gets an enthusiastic nod. He turns around to carry him to the bedroom, but Eddie makes a tiny sound of protest.
"What was that?"
Eddie whines.
"Gotta clean," he slurs, eyes focusing on the sticky imprint of his ass on the counter.
"Don't worry about it, honey. I'll get it in a second," Steve promises, turning to kiss his nose. "You're off duty until round two."
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arimakes · 2 days
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For the @subeddieweek prompt: Edging
Chapter Two: Put Me in Coach!
“That’s—You’re wearing…”
“Oh, this? Found it at a thrift shop today. I liked the colors.” Eddie plays it off, seizing the moment of attention to scratch at his tummy, lifting the jersey to show off a little bit of his treasure trail.
Steve bites his lip and gets real close, grabbing the back of the jersey and fisting at it so that it hugs Eddie's torso, slotting their legs together. Eddie’s nipples harden. He’s sure they’re about ready to poke right through the thin, silky material. Steve notices them, too—pinches at one and then exhales through his teeth as Eddie inhales through his.
“Game's about to start,” Steve says, sounding a little wrecked but still he breaks the spell, moving away from Eddie. He nearly melts to the floor without the support of Steve's leg pressed against his crotch.
Adjusting himself in his jeans, he nods, saying, “Wouldn't wanna miss tee off.” Just to be an idiot.
Read on AO3
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calumfmu · 1 month
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The King's Reign
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King Steve, the stupid nickname you had heard your entire life. The rumors, the huge ego to match. It was everything that made you hate him, especially when your best friend wouldn't shut up about him. Robin was forcing you to be friends with him, but it wouldn't stop the passion you had dedicated to wanting nothing to do with him.
Steve Harrington x reader, enemies to lovers edition, 7.7k+ words
cw: smut, unprotected sex, oral, Steve talking you through it (!!), fingering, angst, tension, 18+, mdni
You had heard rumors of ‘King Steve’ your entire life. Being in a small town like Hawkins allowed every rumor—big or small, to be spread like wild fire. Even when it came to talking about Steve Harrington’s dick. No matter what you did, nothing could allow you to escape the whispers throughout the town.
When Robin had befriended the man of conversation, you were annoyed, to say the least. You could barely escape him when you were trying not to listen to the gossip mill, but it was even harder when your best friend wouldn’t shut up about the guy.
You chewed on a fry, eyes focused behind your friend as you gazed at a group of girls from your school across the way. They were walking into a Tammy’s, hair higher than ever and short shorts hiked up on their long legs. You stared at them, wondering if they had a run around with the guy.
Robin was droning on about something Steve had done today at work, involving a bunch of kids who seemed too young for him.
A fry hit the side of your head, knocking your focus into her instead of the girls across the mall.
“Yn!” Robin sighed, rolling her eyes at you. “You’re not even listening to me.”
“And you would be incorrect,” you responded, smoothing the grease off of your face from where it hit. You grimaced, annoyed at her antics. “You said something about Steve, some kid named Justin, and a stupid handshake or something.”
Robin pressed her lips in a straight line, rolling her eyes once more. They might roll out of her head at this point, you thought.
“His name is Dustin, and the handshake wasn’t stupid, it was cute,” she huffed, throwing her hands in the air. She pushed her food tray away from her, burger half eaten and fries lay abandon across the plastic.
You gasped, leaning across the table and you crossed your arms over your chest. “Woah, Rob.”
She furrowed her brow, wondering what you were getting at.
“I had no idea you swung that way, new development I see.” You wiggled your eyebrows at her, wanting to see how far her patience went. “I just have to know—is it as big as everyone says it is?”
You laughed and leaned back in your chair, blocking your face with your arms as Robin threw a handful of fries at you. Her patience ran out, clearly.
“Yn, can you please be serious for once?” The brunette whined, pouting out her bottom lip as she looked at you. Her infamous begging face. “I’m just telling you because I want you to be friends with him. I can’t be a child of divorce between you. It’s so emotionally draining.”
You giggled, eyeing the way her uniform made her look ridiculous as she begged you. It was rumpled in all the wrong places, red tie hanging loosely at her neck. It made her look like she was perpetually going to a Halloween party.
“How do you think I feel being an actual child of divorce?”
She gaped at you, mouth hanging open as she was at a loss of words. Sputtering, she found the words to say, “Fuck, okay my bad. You know what I meant!”
“I know, Rob, Im just fucking with you,” you laughed, shaking your head as she flushed in the face. She genuinely felt bad, you could tell.
Your parents had recently divorced, next month marking the full year since their split. Tommy and his stupid friends had made it their entire personality and asked you about it ever since the news hit the town. What’s wrong with Mommy and Daddy, they would ask. Daddy found out Mommy slept with the entire town?
You grimaced, thinking about the memories. None of the rumors were true, but that didn’t falter the town people into thinking that you all should be walking around with a Scarlet Letter on your chest.
Shaking your head, you diverted the subject as you hand came to rest of the table. “Me and Steve have never been friends, so you can’t be a child of divorce, Rob. And also, I don’t want to be friends with him.”
Robin stretched her arms across the table, grasping your hand in the two of hers. “Yn, please. I know we both used to hate him-”
“Still do.”
“-but I really think you’ll like him,” she continued, not batting an eyelash at your interruption. “He’s not that same Steve-”
“King Steve.”
“-that everyone talks about. Those rumors are just rumors, I mean, you know how it goes.” She paused when you looked away from her, squinting as you stared unfocused in the distance. You took a deep breath, clearing your throat in discomfort as you turned to look back at her. “Please, Yn?”
You chose silence in this moment, blinking at her with a serious expression on your face as she pouted at you. Her blue eyes were practically watering at this point, long lashes batting rapidly at you.
“Please, Yn.”
Her pleads continued, grip squeezing into your hand as a deadpan expression was being held on your face. This went on for another two minutes (you counted) as she begged you, leaning down every 15 seconds or so to kiss at your hand.
“Okay! Okay, fine, Rob!” You gave in, laughing as she decided to place kisses all over every inch of your hand. She cheered, throwing her hands in celebration before shaking them clasped at the sides of her head, as if thanking an audience for winning an award.
“I literally love you so much, Yn,” she beamed at you, lips stretched thin as she exposed all of her teeth to you. You don’t think she’s smiled this big, ever. “So, tonight, I was thinkin-”
“Tonight?!” Your eyes opened wide, heart beating in your chest as you realized how soon this interaction was going to be. You thought you at least had more than a few hours.
“Oh,” she smirked at you, tilting her head to the side. “Did I not mention that it was tonight?”
Sighing, you trailed a hand down your face, pulling down your features as she shared the details to come. You loved your friend, you really did. She was your best friend, but Christ was she a lot sometimes.
Awkward wasn’t the word to describe the tension in the room. The only sound you could hear was Robin’s nails clacking against the sound of her glass, and Steve’s occasional cough.
You were curled into the side of the couch, Steve on the other, Robin in between the two of you. Steve was looking every which way except the two of you, hand running through his hair as he chewed on his bottom lip. Robin glanced between the two of you, taking sips of her watered down sloppy cocktail in her hand. She kept moving to say something, mouth opening and closing around empty words.
You with your back against the arm of the couch, feet tucked into you as you stared down Steve. You were curious, if they were to ask you. You took in his features, his long hair, giant brown eyes, and navy—is that fucking cashmere?—sweater across his shoulders.
You were observing why him and Robin were friends, why this man had such a hold on your friend. He was attractive, you could admit, boyish features drawing you in, in a way you would never admit in a thousand years. He seemed nervous in this moment, something you hadn’t expected him to be. Cocky, arrogant, rude, brash, anything but this.
But he was still King Steve. The man you had heard about since you went to elementary school together. You were forced to listen to stories of Steve kissing girls underneath the jungle gym evolved to him fucking them in the back of his BMW at the drive-in. It was repulsive.
Robin cleared her throat, drawing your attention away from Steve as his into her. She offered a small smile, awkwardly tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“So… guys,” she phrased it like a question, voice dragging up on the end of the word. “How about actual conversation?”
“Sure.”
“No.”
The two of you having contradictory answers caused your eyes to be pulled into each other. Your face was unmoving as Steve raised his eyebrows at you, confused.
“I’d rather sit in silence,” you muttered, breaking eye contact with him as you leaned your head into your hand. Staring at him while he was focused on something else was one thing, but holding eye contact made you crumble, a slight blush crossing your features. You focused on Robin, shaking your head as she gave you a pleading look.
The blush on your face didn’t go unnoticed by Steve, a suggestive quirk of his eyebrow coming up to cross his face. It was like a switch flipped, the cockiness that surrounded the King Steve rumors coming into play.
“I think that’s a great idea, Rob,” he muttered, voice low as he stared into you. You turned your face towards the coffee table, examining the items abandon on the glass. Your eye twitched at the nickname of your best friend you so often used. You studied the nearly full bottle of vodka surrounded by shot glasses, a deck of cards, and a joint tucked into a clear baggie.
Robin had been optimistic at the night having a positive turn of events.
“I’ll start,” Steve said, turning his entire body so he was facing you. Your bodies mirrored each other, Robin sitting awkwardly in the middle as her eyes flitted between the two of you. “So, Yn… How come I’ve been friends with Robin this long, and have never had the honor of meeting you?”
“Wish I could say the same,” you rolled your eyes, leaning your head on your hand. Your heart was beating heavy behind your chest as you watched this man practically morph into a completely different person.
“Yn…” Robin’s hand came to rest on your knee, squeezing as her voice was a warning to you. Be on your best behavior, you could hear her thoughts.
“Hmm,” he answered, you felt his eyes brushing over your figure. You felt insecure in that moment, focusing on the bottle of vodka as you debated the quickest way to black out in that moment. “I’m just saying, Yn. I’ve heard about you for so long, yet I think this is the first time I’ve even seen you.”
You cut your eyes suddenly to him, your own gaze darkening as his words echoed through the room. You weren’t going to crumble (this time), your mind intent on showing him you weren’t intimidated by him.
At the eye contact, his smirk widened even further. There was a glint of something in his eye, similar to the stories you had heard of the Harrington Charm, or so it was called.
“Funny enough, I’ve heard a lot about you too, Steve,” you replied, huffing as his name left your mouth. “This town can’t stop talking about you. King Steve and how you’re so irresistible.”
The last word in your mouth dripped with venom, squinting your eyes at the suggestive look on his face.
Silence held the next few moments, Robin looking at the ceiling as she muttered words under her breath. It sounded something like a prayer.
“Would you like to find out, Yn?” His voice was low as his eyes bored into you, teeth dragging across his bottom lip as your name escaped his lips. Hair hung into his eyes, head tilted down slightly as he leaned forward an inch. Your breath hitched at the small movement, words at a loss.
Robin shot up from the couch suddenly, arms thrown into the air as she turned around to face the two of you. She shook her shoulders, grimacing at the interaction. “Okay!”
Steve slowly dragged his eyes away from you, smirk disappearing as he glanced up at the brunette. Just like that, King Steve was gone. He settled back into the arm of the couch as his eyebrows were raised to his hairline, lips parted as he stared at your best friend.
“Enough of whatever that was,” Robin tried to blink away the memory, hands resting at her hips. She turned to look at the coffee table behind her, leaning over to grab the abandoned bottle of vodka and the deck of cards. Grimace still present amongst her features, she held them up. “Drinking game, anyone?”
The night continued among the three of you, shots being poured as matching face cards were being thrown onto the table. You were pretty drunk at this point, vision blurring as you leaned into your friend. She was resting her head on top of yours, laughing at something Steve was doing.
He had stuck a card to his forehead, trying to guess which one it was. His eyes were glazed over, slightly hooded with intoxication as him and Robin bickered back and forth about the number of cards there was in deck.
He was losing the debate, set on why Robin was wrong. You had a dopey smile on your face, enjoying the interaction between the two of them. You could see why they got along, energies so different, yet so similar.
“Harrington, you’re so wrong,” Robin laughed, shaking her head as she ripped the card off of his face. A small red mark was left behind, Steve groaning as he rubbed it.
She stood up from the floor, stretching her arms out as she walked away from where you all were surrounding the coffee table.
“I’m starving, Steve, come with me,” she demanded, holding a hand out to help the man up as he complained.
“What about me?” You asked, frowning as you watched him begin to trail her into the kitchen. Your question went unanswered, the two disappearing around the corner.
You sighed to yourself, laying out your body on the floor as the room began to spin in circles. Eyes closing, you held your breath, praying you sober up a little before the end of the night comes upon you.
The look on Steve’s face flashed behind the darkness of your eyes, the sound of your name in his voice echoed in your ears. You felt a small smile creeping on you, only for you to open your eyes suddenly, viscerally shaking the memory out of your mind.
What the fuck, Yn? You questioned yourself, blinking as you looked around the room. Glancing at a clock across the room, you noticed it was half past 1 a.m., way later than you realized. Fuck, my parents are going to kill me.
You glanced towards the direction of the kitchen, head tilting back against the carpet. Robin and Steve’s voices were low, but urgent, causing you to sit up on your elbows.
You strained your ears, trying to focus in on her words.
“-don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“Steve!”
“Whaaat?”
Their voices were heavy with the liquor, almost sounding drowsy.
“Stop trying to fuck my friends, Steve. I’m serious.”
Your heart dropped to your stomach, breath getting caught in your chest as you heard Steve laugh loudly at her words.
“Shhh!” You heard a thud, presumably the sound of her hand hitting him, based on the “Ow! What the hell!” that followed.
“Steve…”
Silence followed the conversation, your ears straining to see if the conversation continued, only for you to be met with the sound of footsteps coming your way. You panicked, moving to lay back down on the carpet. You crossed your hands over your chest, breathing fast as you tried to pretend like you hadn’t eavesdropped that entire thing.
Glancing up, you saw Steve swaying over you, hand on his hips as he smiled down at you. The overhead light shone over him, creating a halo around his perfectly styled hair.
You allowed yourself to stare for only a second before rolling your eyes.
“You’re blocking my light, Harrington,” you muttered, turning your head in the opposite direction.
He chuckled, moving so he sat next to you. He sat with his legs pulled close to him, being held together with his arms as they were clasped together.
“Sorry, didn’t realize you were getting a tan,” he was sarcastic in his words, light look on his face. He stared down at you, eyes grazing over your stretched out limbs.
“Why don’t you like me, Yn?” He asked, teeth pulling at the skin on his lip.
You closed your eyes, sighing as he started up that shit again. Did you not just have that conversation earlier that night?
“I quite like you,” his voice was a whisper now, hand coming out to dance at the edge of your own sweater. You pulled your arm away from him, tucking your elbow into your side. “You’re good for Robin.”
Questioning where Robin was, you glanced in the direction of the kitchen. Coming out was muffled sounds of her moving around the refrigerator, glasses clinging into one another. She was muttering to herself, something about pickles dipped in Greek yogurt.
“I think you’d be good for me, too.” The low tone of his voice had you squeezing your legs together, watching as his eyes briefly looked down at the movement. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling the strands back into place.
“Leave me alone, Steve.” You tried to even your voice out as much as possible.
“I know you’re curious,” Steve cocked his head to the side, eyes trailing over your face. “About King Steve and his reign.”
You hacked a laugh, surprised at the boldness he had in this moment. The man’s ego was huge, even if he had the looks to back it.
“His reign? Is that what you want to call it?” Before you knew it, a small smirk of your own toyed at your lips.
“Oh, we can call it whatever you want,” the smile dropped from his lips as that darkened look took over his eyes once more. The amber glow of his irises turned nearly black, eyes narrowing as he stared into yours.
“The only thing I’m curious about,” you felt his fingers brush your clothes ribcage, ignoring the sensation, “is how there’s not a single bad thing to be said about this King Steve.”
His eyes slowly dragged over you, starting at your eyes to your lips to your chest and lingering at the spot between your thighs before returning to meet your gaze. He sucked in his bottom lip, gaze glancing towards the kitchen door as Robin began to make her way out, balancing about seven things between her arms.
She giggled, paying attention to the shaking of the items as she tried to not spill anything.
Steve’s voice dropped to a low whisper, barely audible, “Don’t you know that curiosity killed the cat?”
You gulped, eyes on him as he switched it off, getting up to help Robin as she struggled with the items. You are so fucked.
Ever since that night between the three of you, you had been tagging along with Robin and her newfound friend more. The facade had been dropped, Steve no longer being flirtatious with you as you tried your hardest to ignore him.
He began to treat you the same as Robin, making stupid jokes towards you and letting his nerdy side come out during the interactions. Your hard exterior slightly crumbled away, defenses lowering as you realized that Robin may have been right about him. They weren’t completely gone, just lowered just enough to get to know him.
He wasn’t as much as an asshole as you imagined, he spent most of nights with a bunch of kids anyways. It was surprising, you had muttered some joke about the kids being “a little too young for you, Harrington?” only to earn his disapproval back. It was the most serious he had been since you met him, eyes dropping to the floor as he shook his head. You felt bad, seeing how defensive he had been over these kids he had practically adopted.
After that interaction, you dropped the King Steve stuff, seeing that your perception of him had been completely wrong. You would love to say that a beautiful friendship was blossoming between the two of you, but it was the opposite of that. You still hated him.
Every time you looked at him, you were reminded of his past, his stupid friend group that he used to hang with. Tommy had made the past few years of your life a living hell, torments of your parents separation and alleged affairs circling in the depths of your mind.
You watched him as he sat on the back porch of his house, cigarette hanging between his fingers as he reclined in the lawn chair over looking the pool. Robin sat in the chair next to him, turning the dial of the stereo as she tried to find a station with “goddamn decent music.”
The night sky hung heavy over you, your feet dipped into the pool as you watched the two from your perch on the side of the pool.
Smoke circled around him, lacing in and out of his hair as he looked in the night sky. A single light from the sliding glass door illuminated the back yard. His hair was annoying, perfectly framing his features as he blinked into the stars of the night.
As you took in the view of him and the rest of his backyard, rolling your eyes at the wealth that stood around you. Typical Harrington and his perfect home.
“Okay, fuck this,” Robin sighed, huffing as she shut off the stereo. She rose from the lawn chair, slipping on her shoes that lay beside it. “I’m over this, I’m going to bed.”
She began walking towards the sliding door, ruffling Steve’s hair as she past him. You protested, kicking your foot in the water.
“You’re going home?” You asked, watching as she paused to speak to you.
“Gonna sleep in Steve’s parents room, they’re not home,” she shrugged, yawning as she stretched her arms over her head.
“Never home,” Steve muttered with a shake of his head, thinking it was under his breath as he took a drag of his cigarette. You glanced at him, brow crinkling slightly at his comment.
“Just come up whenever you’re tired, Yn.” Robin turned, muttering a “g’night” as she made her way into the house, sliding the door behind her.
You looked down at your feet, watching the way the water circled at your ankles. Sounds of water swirling and crickets chirping in the stickiness of the night were filling your senses. You almost forgot Harrington was there, the sound of his cigarette burning out in the water interrupting your thoughts.
You looked at him from where he flicked it in the water. He stared at the way the burned bud floated in the water, moving in small circles as it soaked up the water around it. He seemed to be in a trance, eyes unfocused as they squinted around his thoughts.
You turned your eyes towards your feet again, ignoring him. You didn’t care. He was still that same Steve you despised so much.
“You want to sit here?” Steve asked, pulling you from thoughts once more. “Waters gotta be cold.”
“Absolutely not.” You were stubborn, squaring in your shoulders as your defenses picked up. You heard him huff, breath long as he exhaled.
“Why the fuck are you so rude?” He snapped, your head quickly swiveling to look at him. He shook his head as his hand rested at his bent knee, he continued to stare into the water. The half empty cigarette box was being turned over and over in his grasp.
“Easy for you to say, Harrington,” you shot back, anger seething through you as you got out of the pool. Water dripped around your feet as you grabbed your shoes next to you. You began to storm past him, muttering curses at him. “Good fucking night, asshole.”
You stopped at his chair, glaring down at him as he looked at you, eyes shifting up in your direction as his head stayed centered. Warmth flashed over you as you imagined he looked just like The Fallen Angel in this moment, eyes rimmed red as his gaze cut into you.
You ignored the thought, leaning over him as you seethed, “I don’t know what you think this is, Harrington, but we are not friends. We'll never be friends. You made my life a living hell, and I will resent you for that for the rest of my life. These rumors painting you in good light makes me loath you even more.”
Steve scoffed at your words, getting up so he stood in front of you. You bit your tongue as he towered over you, breath heavy as he searched your face, your harsh words lingering in the air.
“I didn’t do anything to you,” he whispered, voice low as your heart thundered. You swore he could hear it as he glanced down your body. "I've been nothing but nice to you."
“Liar.” You shook your head, taking a step back as he took one in your direction.
“Okay,” he nodded his head, lips forming a frown. His hand reached up to pull at his hair, rolling his eyes as they closed with a sigh. He opened them, hand moving to rest at his hip. “Tell me then, what did I do that was so bad for you, Yn.”
“You know.”
He shook his head, not taking that answer. He remained silence.
“You know,” your voice cracked, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.
He shook his head again, tilting his head as he examined you. His own eyes blinked rapidly, jumping back and forth between the two of yours.
You sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. All of the anger dissipated, sorrow filling your chest instead.
“You let Tommy torment me, you let him say what he did about me and all of his stupid friends,” your voice was fragile, volume moving up and down as your words came out. “You might not have said anything, but that’s the worst part, Steve. You were a bystander during the worst times of my life, and you didn’t. Do. Anything.”
Your finger punched at his chest with every word, emphasizing your point. Steve looked down at the assault of the digit, grabbing it between his fingers at the last word.
His touch burned your skin, a feeling that felt so wrong, but so right at the same time.
“You’re absolutely right,” Steve agreed with you, fingers holding your hand tightly. “I was—I was terrible. I was a jerk, a coward, if you will.”
Your eyes looked up into his at his words, hearing him out.
“I’m not friends with him anymore. I met Nancy all that time ago, and things changed for me,” he continued, thumb rubbing circles over the skin. Your heartbeat quickened, glancing down at his movement. “I met Robin, and things only got better. That perception you have of me is so different. So, so different than me now.”
He left go of your hand, watching as it dropped to your side. Steve was only inches away from you, the left over tobacco scent mixing with the detergent of his clothes.
A single tear streamed down your face, your hand shooting up to wipe it away. His gaze softened, shaking his head at you.
“It appears King Steve has dropped his crown,” he muttered, earning a small laugh out of you. You dropped your head, stepping back as a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.
Steve’s laugh followed your own, chuckling low as yours picked up. The two of you stood there laughing at each other, an ache in your side forming as you realized the ridiculous situation you were in.
You both quieted down, staring at each other as the moonlight filled the sky above you. The buzzing of the porch light filled the air.
Steve’s eyes were huge in this lighting, his long lashes curled up towards his brows. The small pout of his lips were wet from his tongue darting out, licking at the skin. Moles dotted his skin, cheeks full as joy crossed his features.
You could see him in this light, for who he truly was. That asshole image may have lingered in the back of your mind, but you could see that he was truthful in his speech.
“I may miss him, you know,” you said, looking at your feet as the words came out. “King Steve.”
You glanced up at him, crossing your arms over your chest. His eyes were dark again, mouth pressed into a thin line.
“Oh?” You couldn’t pull the emotion off of his face, a mask placed over it.
You nodded, continuing, “I never got to know him the way most people did.”
Smirking at your words, you turned towards the house and walked up towards the sliding glass door. You didn’t bother looking back at him, opening up the glass as you stepped through muttering a goodnight as you entered the house.
It was dark in there, the only light illuminating was the one hanging over the staircase. The image of the look on Steve’s face burned in your mind, how his dark eyes reflected the moonlight. As you trekked up the stairs on your way to meet Robin, you couldn’t help but think that you took things too far at the end. You’ve hated him all this time, why all of a sudden did you want to mess with his head about the idea of King Steve ?
Reaching the end of the hall, your hand reached for the doorknob, stopping in its place as you heard footsteps running up the stairs, fast in their pace.
Your brow furrowed, turning towards that direction as you watch Steve ascend the stairs, turning the corner to the hall in your direction. He was slightly out of breath, colored in the cheeks.
“You want to?” He blurted out, fast paced with his words. You were confused.
“Huh?”
He was crossing the distance to you, eyes determined on yours. Your hand was still placed on the doorknob, grip loose.
“Harrington, what are you talking ab-”
Your words were cut off as Steve closed the distance, crashing his mouth into yours. His hands came up to rest on the sides of your face as your eyes shot open in surprise at the intrusion. Your hand left the doorknob, resting at his chest to push him away.
“What the hell was that,” you exclaimed, finger digging in his chest. Smiling at you, his hands still present on your cheeks as he tugged at his bottom lip.
He made a shushing motion with his lips, stepping closer to place his mouth on yours again. You didn’t protest, fluttering your eyes shut as his mouth began to move into yours, molding into the perfect shape.
His mouth was soft, tongue darting out to lick between your lips, an urgency as you were pulled into him. One of his hands left your face, finding your waist to press his torso into yours. Huffing, the firmness of his body against yours left you breathless as you leaned up into the kiss.
He pulled away, placing two quick pecks to yours before placing a step back. The absence of his hands on your body left a chill throughout your spine. Eyes glazed over, you blinked at him, tongue running over the feeling of him on your lips.
Steve was smug, hands on his hips as he smiled at you. Your mouth flapped open and close, not finding the words to say to him in that moment. You should be repulsed at him, that was your first thought, but you couldn’t be bothered.
“I-I don’t know what to say.” Your fingers came to brush at your mouth, looking anywhere but him. It was the first time you had been shy around him. You were starting to understand the Harrington Effect.
“You don’t need to,” he rushed, crossing the distance to you one last time to crash his mouth into yours.
He pulled you into him simultaneously pushing you into the wall next to the doors of his parents room. Your body hit it with a full yet loud thud, not caring about waking Robin in the moment.
Your mouth moved in sync with Steve’s, hands coming up to mess up its perfect style and leg curling up to rest at his upper thigh. He moaned into your mouth as his hands gripped your ass, pulling your hips into his.
This is wrong, you found yourself thinking as Steve pulled away to mouth at your neck. He sucked bruises into the delicate skin, fingers digging into your flesh. Your hands roamed free, wildly pulling at his belt his teeth grazed your earlobe.
His bulge ground into the fabric of your jean shorts, leaving you breathless as you fumbled with his buckle.
“S-Steve,” you panted into his hair, arching into his grasp.
You felt the smug fuck smile at your neck, breath sending a chill down your spine. “So needy, baby.”
The nickname had you mewling, panting even further as once of his hands came to help with you the buckle. He freed himself, leather straps hanging at his waist as he unbutton the jeans, pulling the zipper down.
Your hand reached inside, grabbing his heavy cock. You both gasped at the feeling, Steve throwing his head back at the sensation of you tugging at him under his pants. The sounds echoing through the air were filthy—Steve groaning, the wet slickness of your hand on his cock, your dirty words of affirmation flowing out of your mouth.
His hand came to rub at you through your shorts, the thick material making you see stars. Your own head hit the wall, the thud louder than before.
“Shhh baby,” he muttered, pushing them to the side as his fingers brushed over your clothed opening. He smirked at you, low groan escaping his mouth as you were already dripping wet. You huffed, squeezing at the base of his cock in retaliation, feeling the way his hips jutted out.
“C-can’t wake Robin,” he gasped, hips moving rhythmically in sync with your strokes. His head was dripping wet, the inside fabric of his underwear soaking it up.
You felt his fingers prodding at your entrance, the thick jean and thin material of your underwear pushed to the side. They brushed your folds, collecting slick as he applied pressure to the sensitive bud.
“Need you, Steve, fuck,” your face was twisted in pleasure, core throbbing as he continued to tease you. The look on his face let you know he was falling apart at your touch too, brow furrowed as his bottom lip was sucked into his mouth.
He removed himself from you, tucking the exposed part back into his pants. Grabbing your hand, he pulled you down the hall, leading to an open door. He pushed you inside, shutting it behind him as he pushed you down on the bed.
You bounced, half smiling as you rid yourself of your shirt, throwing it across the room. The jeans shorts followed, leaving you exposed in your bra and panties.
Steve stood at the end of the bed, gaze roaming over your figure as that familiar dark look took over his features.
“The things you’re doing to me,” he breathed, crossing his arms at his waist as he pulled his shirt over his head. The sight of his chest, littered with hair at the top, made a rush of heat go straight to your core.
Your eyes followed his hands, watching as they pulled down his jeans, still unbuttoned from the hallway. His boner pushed at the front of his boxers, wet patch present as the material tented.
His eyes followed your eyeline, smirking at you as he saw your legs subconsciously opening wider. Your hand came down to rub between your legs, the panties becoming stickier with each passing moment.
“You want me to show you, baby?” His voice was taunting, leaning over the bed to make his slow crawl over your body. You nodded, eyes big with desire as you felt his heat over you. “Say it.”
“I-I want you t-to show me, Steve,” you moaned, free hand reaching up to grab at his neck. He stopped its movement, hand loose at the wrist as he sucked his teeth.
"Ah ah ah, say it again." His low voice had you falling apart, wetness pooling between your thighs.
"I want you to show me, Steve." Clearer this time, you arched into him spreading your legs so he lay between. He smirked and let go, leaning down to briefly kiss your lips before making his way down your neck.
The urgency you felt in your body contradicted his slow, languid movements. You felt the admiration in his movements, teeth nipping at your skin lightly, his tongue soothing over the marks. He made his way down, kissing over what seemed like every inch of you.
As he spread your legs, he maintained eye contact with you, hair falling into his eyes. His fingers rested at the waistband of your panties, mouth pressing light kisses over your clit. The fabric was thin enough to feel the heat of your breath, and it had you mewling.
"You're so beautiful, Yn," he whispered as he pulled the piece of fabric off of you. Your hand reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes, leaning up on your elbows so you could get sight of him.
His tongue darted out, licking at your clit as you exhaled deeply. Your hips jutted out, trying to feel the full heat of his mouth as his tongue gave you tiny licks, teasing you. Steve's smirk grew, arm resting at your waist to hold you down.
"'M just getting started, my love."
He began to suck at you, tongue dipping in and out of your folds as one of his fingers found your entrance, pushing in. You watched as his eyes fluttered shut, moaning at the taste of you.
It was heaven watching him. Seeing the way his face was pushed into you, fingers moving in and out of you with a fever. They curled inside of you, toying at the bundle of nerves deep in your walls. Clenching around him, your hips began to stutter, the weight of his arm adding a pressure that made your head feel light.
Bliss approached you, slowly then all at once. You swore you blacked out for a moment, vision going white as he licked you through the pleasure. Your breath was fast, chest heaving as that familiar over stimulation worked its way through your thighs.
Steve pulled away, satisfied with your unraveling. He licked the taste of you off of his lips, rising to his knees as he pulled his boxers down. His cock sprung free, dark red at the head as it dripped in desperation.
His hand came to stroke himself, squeezing small drops of precum out of the head.
"Steve," you groaned, hand reaching to grab at him. His hips angled towards your reach, he groaned as you made contact. You gave him short strokes, focusing your attention at the head.
"You wanna give me a little taste, sweetheart?" His sweet words of affirmation had you soaked with anticipation once again, a nod coming in reply. You repositioned yourself, lying on your stomach, propped up on your elbows as you licked at his head.
A low groan escaped him, hand coming to rest at the back of your head. You took him in your mouth, lips stretching over his girth as you opened up for him.
His hand pushed on your head, forcing down some of the length that you felt shy in taking. You sucked at him, looking up at him falling apart with small thrusts of his hips into your mouth. His head was angled to the side, eyes closed as you saw them move behind his lids. His mouth was open, free hand gripping at the roots of his hair.
He looked beautiful in this light, chest glistening as a sheen of sweat covered him. His hand guided your mouth, feeling the suction of your lips over his shaft. The way his hips stuttered into you had you choking, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth.
"M not gonna last, baby," he muttered, removing himself as you looked up at him. Steve glanced down at himself, seeing the way his cock shone with the glistening of your spit.
His eyes rolled, teeth digging into his bottom lip at the sight. You understood the feeling, the both of you being so turned on, it fucking hurt.
"Turn around for me." Rising to your hands and knees, you positioned yourself, arching your back. Blind to his movements, you heard him shuffle behind you, warm hands gripping at your waist that sent a shock to your spine.
His cock nudged at your entrance, a burn coming as he stretched you open. A high moan escaped your lips, hips running from the intrusion. His hands pulled you right back, cock pushing in even further.
"Shh, baby," he whispered, running his hand up your spine to soothe you. "It'll be okay."
You nodded, looking back over your shoulder at him admiring the way you stretched over him. As he pushed in further, the stretch burned even more. The pain was soothed away by the rubbing of his hands and the words of encouragement he gave you.
"'S okay," he muttered, pushing to the hilt. "I'm right here, baby."
Your knuckles were shaking as you gripped the sheets below you. Your eyes fluttered closed, a sigh escaping your lips.
"All right here, baby. I'm not gonna hurt you." His hips reared back before pressing in again, your back arching as pleasure flowed through your body.
"Steve, fuck," you moaned his name, feeling the way he pushed into you over and over, movements slow. He grabbed onto your hips, fucking into you as the sounds of slapping skin echoed through the room.
"You're taking it so good, my love."
His words had you gasping, hips shooting back to meet his movements half way. Seeing the effort you gave him back, his thrusts became faster, fucking into you with a passion.
Steve's words continued praising you, I love to see you falling apart and feels good, baby? and take it, you love my dick so much. You were panting his name, the only word you could focus on.
That pleasure arched up your spine once more, legs shaking with the promise of release. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, falling to the bed as Steve followed you to it. His large stature hung over your body, fucking you through your high.
You couldn't help, but press your face into the mattress, pleasure rippling through you as his movements quickened. You felt him approaching his own high as his words became short, breath raising a pitch.
"F-fuck, Yn," his voice was even an octave higher, face pressing in between your shoulder blades. His thrusts were irregular, slamming into you as the entire bed rocked. "Gon-gonna cum, baby, f-fuck, you did so well."
He released into you, pressing deep as you felt him fill you up. The warmness of his cum made you moan again, the thick liquid threatening to spill out the sides of his cock deep within you.
"Such a good job," he whispered to you before pulling out, collapsing next to you. He lay on his back, hand reaching out to rest at the small of your back.
You turned your head towards him, blinking slow as you took in the mess of the man. His hair was sticking to his face, cheeks red, and wetness around his mouth. He stared back at you, smirk ever present.
"I still hate you, Harrington," you whispered to him, noticing the way your legs felt numb. Sensing the irony in your words, you felt him leak out of you. A grimace crossed your face.
He laughed out loud, winking at you. He leaned to press a kiss to your nose, watching the way it crinkled under his touch.
"I'm sure you do, sweetheart."
You hid your smile in the sheets, rolling your eyes shut. Happiness warmed your body, the lingering effects of your orgasm. A gnawing feeling came to your heart, chest pounding for a different reason. You had fallen for it, the typical Harrington charm. At that moment, you tried not to tell yourself that things may be different, thinking of his words earlier.
He was different than before, however, the thoughts of King Steve still plagued your mind. This couldn't end well, Steve doesn't end well. You opened your eyes, finding him still staring at you.
"You know, I meant what I said, right?" He asked you, seemingly reading your mind. You blinked at him, ready to push that hard exterior forward. "I am different than I was."
Warmth filled your chest, hope bubbling at the surface.
"I don't know if I believe you," you whispered, voice sounding small in the big room. He pressed his lips together, mouth dropping at the corner.
"Let me show you," he replied, hand coming to brush the hair behind your ear. "Let me do that at least."
Hesitation came over you, silence filling the air between you. A few moments passed as he searched your eyes for any sign of emotion. It was like you had an angel and devil on each shoulder, warning you yet jumping for joy at the same time.
You slowly nodded, a sigh escaping your lips. Steve beamed at you, eyes squinting with the smile.
"I swear, Harrington, if you do anything to fuck me over, I will murder you," you shook your head, not believing you'd give him a chance. He leaned over again, pressing another kiss to your lips this time. His smile was contagious, you fought it back.
"Is that a promise?"
masterlist. requests and inbox are open.
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steddielations · 7 months
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nsfw text, bdsm
Thinking about Steve having his dom awakening, feeling guilty about how much he liked holding Eddie down and edging him until he was begging, meanwhile Eddie is obsessively jerking off over the memory, unsure how to tell Steve all the unhinged shit he’s sooo okay with them doing, something like this
Steve: it’s really bad, Eddie, you were getting mouthy with me and i just wanted to spank you, I’m awful
Eddie, about to come in his pants: wow that’s uh could you uh demonstrate maybe
Just!! Sub Eddie with some experience, reassuring Steve he’s not a monster for liking what he likes. Aftercare being just as important for Steve as it is for Eddie, he has to make sure he only hurt Eddie in the ways he wanted, good ways.
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bimbobaggins69 · 2 months
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𝟏𝟖+ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈. 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧
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You stay seated in your wooden desk as your classmates pack up and leave, brushing past you one by one as they clamber out, anxiously ready to start their weekend. Your professor Mr. Harrington passed back your graded test with a note that read ‘see me after class’. Usually a note like that would be met with a sinking feeling that would immediately upset your stomach, but instead the butterflies that had been fluttering around since you walked in were now in a frenzy. You knew exactly what that little note meant.
You walk down the steps slowly as the door shuts after your last classmate, a clicking sound that signifies you’re finally alone echos throughout the tensely growing classroom. Your knee high socks fall just under your knees as one foot moves languidly in front of the other.
“You wanted to see me, professor?” You murmur, feigning innocence as you lean against his desk, suggestively showing off your exposed cleavage to your ogling teacher.
“You know exactly why I wanted to see you.” Professor Harrington says smoothly, before licking his lips as his eyes openly rake over your body.
“Mmm, I don’t know why professor sir, c-can you remind me?” Your lips form a little pout making your teacher scoff at your faux innocence.
Without another word Professor Harrington is up and on the other side of his desk in the blink of an eye, making your heart rate speed up with excitement. You can feel his growing bulge as it digs into your asscheek only covered by about two inches of your plaid skirt. You look back at him with a taunting smirk which makes him grab the hair at the crown of your head, pulling roughly as his face moves inches away from your ear.
“You sure you need a reminder? The way I always make you scream should be reminder enough, no?” He says with a cock sure smirk.
“Well maybe I need you to make me scream again, ya know? Just to jog my memory.” The sarcasm that drips off of your tongue is lethal and causes your professor to flip up your little skirt and harshly land a slap to your exposed skin, making it redden instantly. He roughly pulls your cotton black thong down your thighs, letting them drop before lifting your left leg and placing it on top of his paper littered desk.
“This what you want you little slut?” He grits before sliding his long fingers through your dripping folds. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me, always so fucking wet for me, baby.” He groans as he plunges his two middle fingers deep inside of you, fucking them into you as his other hand continues the grip on your hair.
The only noises that fill the empty classroom are little “ah’s” and “ooh’s” that slip past your lips and the squelches of your wet pussy being finger fucked by your professor who continues to babble filth into your ear.
“You want my cock now? You think this little cunts ready for me?” The rasp in his voice makes you shiver and clench tightly around his appendages. “I’ll take that as a fucking yes.” He spits before hastily undoing his belt and ripping his slacks down, letting them pool around his fancy dress shoes.
“Yes, yes, yes…” you repeat like a mantra, every part of you practically begging to be filled with your professors ridiculously big cock.
“That’s right beg me, beg for my cock you little brat.” He demands as the grip on your hair gets tighter and another slap is extinguished onto your sore flesh, the pain bringing nothing but absolute pleasure.
“Please sir, please professor sir.” You cry out as he rubs his tip teasingly over your sensitive clit, making you clench around nothing as your toes curl in your heeled booties from anticipation.
“Such a good little fuck toy.” He praises before filling you up in one hard and quick thrust, causing you both to moan out expletives.
“Ah, this little fucking cunt.” Your professor says before pushing your leg further back on the desk, opening you up more for him as he picks up his pace and begins pounding into you.
He finds your sweet spot almost immediately after the first few thrusts, causing your whole body to fall in a puddle of jelly like limbs onto his desk, all the while he never relents, continuing his punishing pace.
“How does it feel to let your professor use you as his own personal fuck toy? Huh? Just a little set of holes for me to use.” He groans at his own words as you begin to tighten around him.
“I asked you a question!” He barks through gritted teeth.
“Yes sir!” Is all you can cry out as your brain has been fucked into complete liquified mush.
Professor Harrington chuckles darkly at your inability to comprehend his question. “Jesus, you’re so drunk on my cock, look at you. You needed to get fucked right, didn’t you? None of those young guys doin it for you, huh?” He whispers into your ear as he begins to pull you up, your back flush against his chest as he continues his harsh thrusts.
“Oh my god, pro- Steve I’m gonna come!” You sob as tears of pleasure begin to drip down your heated cheeks.
The older man licks them away happily, as he begins to feel his rapidly growing orgasm on the horizon.
“You better come on my cock before I fill this little cunt up and leave you used and unsatisfied.” He huffs the faux threat that you know he’d never actually follow through with, but those words cause the tightening in your lower belly to snap as your body shivers with the most intense orgasmic bliss you’d ever had the pleasure of experiencing.
“That’s a good little cock slut.” Steve whimpers, breaking his facade as his thick come shoots out, filling you up. He continues to fuck his come deeper into you, before he can’t take any more of the overstimulation. His softening cock plops out of you with a squelch and glistening with his own come, you see the remnants of his seed pooled in the very tip of his cock, leaking out like pre.
“On your knees, now. Cmon, clean me off kitten.” He softly demands as he slowly begins to leave that dominant head space.
You drop to your knees without another word before you begin licking him clean, true to the nickname.
“Fuck, that’s a good girl, workin’ so hard for that A.”
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matchingbatbites · 3 months
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Thinking about Dom Steve and sub Eddie having to stop doing impact play because every time they try, Steve always drops after, some kind of combination of "Steve is a protector and caretaker" and "Steve knows what it feels like to be beaten and laying a hand on someone he loves makes him want to hurl".
Eddie tries the first couple of times to reassure Steve like he likes it, that Steve isn't doing anything Eddie isn't literally asking for. But after the third time, when Steve almost hyperventilates at the sight of his own handprints on Eddie's skin, they make the decision that yeah, this isn't something they need to keep doing.
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stevieschrodinger · 4 months
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for @gutterflower77
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Steve actually has all the stuff ready. It’s right there, but he needs a moment to gather himself, so he uses the excuse of retrieving the tube of antibacterial cream, the water, the snack bar. Because what the fuck. He wasn’t supposed to enjoy that quite that much.
Steve has to adjust himself a little in his pants, and he’s got no explanation for that, either.
Eddie is dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed when Steve gets back; posture a story of defeat.
Steve doesn’t want to compare what just happened to him, like, breaking in a horse, or something. But that is kind of how it feels. And it wasn’t even that hard.
Steve sits next to him, giving him the water and then, and he doesn’t know why he does this, opens the snack bar before he hands it to Eddie. Obviously Eddie can do that himself, but it was a reflex that had happened before Steve could stop it.
Eddie eats the bar and drinks half the water, and then he lets Steve dab a little cream on his lip; it’s probably not helping, it’s already well scabbed over, but Steve still feels the need to do it. Eddie won’t look at him though, tilts his head back with his eyes closed, twitching as Steve applies the cream carefully with the tip of his pinky finger.
Which is fine, Steve figures they’ve both had enough tonight.
“Okay, time for bed.”
Eddie doesn’t even say anything, no complaints, nothing, just does as he’s told and crawling into bed next to Steve. Steve waits, listening until Eddie’s breathing evens out, which actually happens really, really fast.
Eddie lying there trying to hide the fact that he’s awake and in pain, or Eddie waking up with nightmares and trying to cover it up was a regular enough occurrence that Steve can tell pretty accurately now if Eddie really is asleep or not.
Steve’s pretty sure he’s asleep.
Steve sleeps, too.
Steve finds himself in the city. He doesn’t really go into the city much, and never alone; it’s usually with Rob. Occasionally a couple of the kids. Rob likes to riffle through the thrift shops for clothes. The kids like to go look at Dorks and Dickheads and nerd shit, and then after hours of that torture, demand Steve buys them ice cream.
So.
He’s never usually here alone. And he’s doing something else he never thought he’d do; he’s trawling book shops.
He’s wearing shades inside, like that’ll stop people from seeing him in the adult sections. One thing he’s learned from Dustin Henderson over the years; if you need to know about something, there will be a book about it.
And it turns out, there is. One of them, as far as Steve can tell, is just a dirty novel, so he’s not sure how much use that will be. He picks up something by someone called Marquis de Sade, reads the back, and puts it down again. Definitely not.
He leaves with four books that he has wildly varying degrees of confidence in.
There’s an adult shop in the city; it’s got blacked out windows and everyone knows exactly what it is. Steve’s not expecting a bell to tinkle happily over the door when he walks in, and that’s almost startling enough for him to walk back out again.
He doesn’t though. He sticks it out. He needs to show Eddie he’s serious.
He needs to take care of Eddie. He needs to keep Eddie safe.
Also, he kind of needs to win.
He also needs to figure out how to fuck Eddie without having sex with him, since Eddie has made it pretty clear this is a sex thing. Not just a sex thing, the whole thing is pretty integral to Eddie getting laid, so. He’s going to have to do something. But that’s later Steve’s problem.
He walks past a very impressive collection of dildos and buttplugs and...very, very briefly considers the possibility. His brain stalls out a little bit, decides that this is...too much for right now, and keeps walking.
Steve’s not going to lie to himself. Out loud, yes, he lies all the time, but not in the privacy of his own head. And in the privacy of his own head...he was expecting handcuffs. Maybe like...fluffy pink ones.
He wasn’t expecting quite so much...leather. He sees a harness type contraption that he knows instantly Eddie would like. For the aesthetic, obviously. It’s just that it’s black leather with metal fixings and looks like it would form an ‘x’ over Eddie’s chest. That’s just, Eddie’s style. Or something.
“For yourself-”
Steve nearly screams. He swears his feet actually leave the ground. He thinks he maybe pee’d a little bit. He’s actually clutching at his chest, at the material of his shirt, like some scandalized middle aged woman clutching desperately at her pearls.
He takes a second to breathe through it, and to remind himself that he has been tortured by Russians and has beaten monsters from another dimension to death with a baseball bat and he is better than this, godamit.
It’s a diminutive woman that's speaking to him. She’s made a good six inches taller by the luminous green mohawk she’s sporting though, “sorry, you startled me.”
“I can see that, hon,” she pops her gum, “you’re like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. First time, huh?”
There’s no point in denying it, “yeah. Yeah, first time.”
“Right, so, shopping for yourself, or someone else? You need any help?”
She’s so without judgement, so open about the fact that they’re squeezed into an aisle of the store with leather wear hanging on one side, and gags and…muzzles hanging directly in Steve’s eye line.
“Someone else and...yeah, I think I do. Kind of...new, to all this.”
“Uh hu, so what are you looking for?”
“Well, he wants to be tied up,” Steve blurts before his brain to mouth filter can intervene, “I’m not gay,” he tacks on, panicking.
Both of her eyebrows raise a little, and Steve can tell that she is absolutely fighting not to smile at him, “uh hu. Right. So you want some restraints for...platonically tying up your...friend?”
“Yes,” Steve nods like his head is on a loose spring, “yes, exactly that, yes.”
“Hon, either you are outright lying to me, or there is a story here I absolutely want to hear.”
Steve almost...he feels like he collapses in on himself. He bluffed his way through the last encounter with Eddie...and he fucking loved it, he did. But now he’s got nowhere to go, because this is a sex thing, isn't it? So what the fuck is he supposed to do?
Steve doesn’t know what his face is doing, but he guesses it must be bad when she tuts sympathetically and says, “oh. Oh wow, hon, come on, I’ll make you a coffee, yeah?”
“I bought some books about it,” Steve offers weakly as he trails after her through the store, and she laughs right the way through making them both a coffee. There’s nothing mean about her laughter though, and by the time Steve has a mug in his hand, he’s laughing along with her.
When Steve tells Maria that his name is Steve, she gives him this look, but doesn’t say anything. She thinks he’s lying about his name, he realizes. Apparently ‘Steve’ sounds like a fake name you give when you’re panicking.
Steve guesses she’s not wrong.
“Okay, come on then. Spill. Trust me, nothing you tell me will shock me.”
“But it might make you laugh.”
“Well...yeah,” she grins at him, and something about her kind of reminds him of Nancy, a no nonsense honesty about her.
Steve figures he has nothing to loose, it’s not like she knows who either of them are.
“So...my friend, he’s a...submissive?”
“You sound so sure hon,” but she’s laughing in that kind way again. Steve doesn’t feel like he’s being laughed at, he feels like they’re seeing the funny side together. It helps that this lady is probably old enough to be his Mom.
“Right, well, he is. And he’s...he’s a good friend. We’ve been through a bit together and we’re kind of close. And he’s been showing up with like, bruises, split lip and...dropping. He explained to me what that was,” she nods, “and I just...I can’t let him keep going through that. I’m not going to let people keep treating him like that if...if I can do it, for him. If I can look after him.”
Maria makes a face like that is the sweetest thing she’s ever heard, and she’s looking at Steve like he’s a basket of puppies. Which is weird, because if Steve were to lean too far to the left, he’d knock over a towering display of different flavors of lube and glow in the dark condoms.
Steve lays his purchases out on the bed. He’s just spent way more money than he initially intended, but he figured if he’s doing this he might as well do it right. Maria was a font of information.
First and foremost, this is not, necessarily, a sex thing. It’s a trust thing. And when Steve had really thought about Eddie’s brain going quiet when he’s restrained...yeah, he kind of gets it? He thinks?
He knows shit all about how to safely tie someone up with rope, so he bought handcuffs instead. Velcro ones. They’re soft inside and might not be what Eddie’s used to, but if they’re going to do this, then some things are going to be none negotiable. If Eddie wants out of the restraints, Steve is going to make sure he can do that on his own.
It just makes Steve feel better about the whole thing, knowing that Eddie could take his control back at any moment if he really wanted to.
And he’s got a plan. Sort of. To start small. Might be pretty tame by Eddie’s standards, but Steve’s happy to admit that he’s totally new to this, so that is where they’re going to start.
Maria was very opinionated on the importance of enforcing your own boundaries in a healthy relationship, and Steve soaked up everything she said.
If Steve does something he doesn’t want to, simply because he thinks it’s what Eddie wants...Steve won’t enjoy himself. Steve won’t like it. And if Steve grows to really not like it...then this will fall apart really fast and any stability he managed to create with Eddie will disappear.
Probably to Eddie’s detriment. Probably having some negative fall out.
Which, all of that, is hugely logical, but it wasn’t until Maria very plainly pointed it out that Steve saw it that way. But now that she has, Steve’s really thought about it. He feels like he gets it now, at least, in principle. So for Steve’s comfort, as much as Eddies, they’re starting really, really small. Super safe.
When Maria had said they have to build trust, Steve had scoffed and Maria had raised an eyebrow. He didn’t mean to make that noise...it’s just, they’ve saved the world together. Literally relied on each other when their lives were on the line. Steve can’t imagine building any more trust with Eddie, they’re already at maximum trust.
He doesn’t know how to explain that considering he can’t tell anyone about the alternate dimension full of monsters, or the kids with magic powers. So.
But he didn’t come to Steve with his split lip, did he? The thought makes Steve frown, a niggle of doubt. Maybe he was just embarrassed? Probably that. It isn’t that he doesn’t trust Steve with this, necessarily, it’s just he didn’t want to deal with Steve freaking out at him again.
Sure. Probably that.
Regardless, Steve has an idea of something he wants to try, and he feels better equipped to do that with Advice from Maria.
And if he did get half way to reading one of those dirty novels, no one needs to know.
Eddie eyes the cushion warily, “that’s it? You just want me to sit on the floor.”
Steve crosses his arms, “that is what I’ve asked you to do, yes.”
Eddie hesitates long enough that Steve wonders if he’s going to do it or not, but eventually Eddie does. He’s moving gingerly, like he thinks the cushions going to bite him. He sits just as Steve asked him to, back to the couch, facing the TV. Steve puts on ‘Born Free’ and absolutely does not react when Eddie snorts and rolls his eyes. Steve settles himself behind Eddie. Not shying away from pinning Eddie’s shoulders between his thighs, encouraging Eddie to settle back even further. He does, but he's sitting stiffly, and Steve can basically feel the tension radiating off of Eddie.
But this is step one. To get over this.
They might be incredibly familiar with each other at this point, and may have already built up a mutual trust...but this. This is something new they’re going to have to sort through and get used to if they want to make it work. And Steve does want to make it work. He can’t let Eddie put himself in one of those situations again if he can help it.
Not if he can do this a better way.
Part five
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strangererotica · 1 month
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EXPLICIT CONTENT • MINORS DNI • older!daddy!dom!Steve Harrington x bratty!fem!reader • Includes daddy kink, teasing, jealousy/possessiveness, implied age gap (reader 20’s or 30’s, Steve 40’s or 50’s) rough sex, talking back, spanking, oral, and fluff ♥️
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All semblance of calm left Steve’s eyes the moment he saw what you were wearing. Normally, he enjoyed the little ‘show,’ you put on for him before leaving for a night out with your girlfriends. But not this time.
You pranced down the stairs in quite possibly the shortest mini skirt Steve had ever seen. In fact, he wasn’t sure the strip of material could even be called a skirt at all. The way it hugged your body, accentuating the curve of your hips and tummy, made Steve’s cock twitch despite his surprise. You were gorgeous. And not to mention, the blouse you were wearing: soft, thin fabric that barely concealed your bra-less breasts beneath it, nipples poking prominently through the sheer material.
Steve could feel the jealousy boiling in his stomach; he didn’t want any other man or woman in Hawkins to see what belonged to him, what only HE was privileged enough to see. He could be a bit domineering at times, and perhaps that was an understatement. But you loved pressing Steve’s buttons, testing his jealousy. Sometimes, you’d openly flirt with other men in front of Steve, because you knew the ‘punishment,’ for your behavior would be fucking WORTH IT.
Steve’s jaw was tight as he watched you descend the stairs. You caught the look immediately, and a little thrill shivered inside you. This is exactly the response you’d hoped to inspire. So you decided to go all-in with your teasing little game.
“Do you like my outfit, Daddy?” you asked, blinking up at him innocently. Steve pressed his lips together a moment before speaking, as if choosing his words carefully. “You dressed yet?” he asked, and you giggled.
“Of course I’m dressed, silly!” you replied, resting your hands lightly on his chest. “Your eyes must be playing tricks on you, old man.”
It was said with levity, in a playful tone, but Steve was not amused. You often teased him about his age when you wanted him to fuck you stupid, like now, and show you exactly what a man his age could DO…
Steve grit his teeth behind his lips. “Oh yeah?” he said. “Well, if you were dressed, would it be this easy for me to grab a handful of your ass?”
You winced as Steve’s palm slid in an instant beneath your skirt and squeezed one side of your ass, hard. The thrill inside you grew, going straight to your core.
“Well you do have big hands, Daddy,” you mused, sinking yourself against Steve’s warm palm.
“Mmm-hmm,” Steve agreed. “And you know what Daddy can do with his hands, don’t you Princess?”
He abruptly pulled his hand away and spanked the cheek of your ass he’d been gripping. A little gasp of surprise and excitement left your lips, and you smiled in spite of the act you were pulling. Steve was NOT smiling, however. He was pissed.
“Give me one good reason why I should let you go out tonight half naked,” he said, his voice low. You shook your head, feigning ignorance. “I don’t understand,” you responded. “I’m wearing a skirt and a blouse. That hardly makes me naked-.”
Another swat on your ass silenced you.
“Don’t talk back to me, (y/n),” Steve warned. The darkness in his tone sent your heart fluttering, warmth pooling between your legs. Both of Steve’s hands were on your ass now, massaging you, kneading roughly.
“You think I’d let you show everyone in this town what’s mine, and only mine?” he asked, pulling you a little closer. “Think I’d let you trot this pussy all over Hawkins like it’s nothing? Like it doesn’t belong to me…?”
You shivered as Steve’s hand slid between your thighs, cupping your pussy in his large, warm palm. Steve’s lip curved in a grin at your response, at feeling how soaking wet you were.
“Aww,” he cooed, massaging your slick between the folds of your pussy, purposefully neglecting your clit. “Looks like somebody’s misbehaving on purpose…”
Your eyes lolled back as Steve pressed two fingers inside you easily, considering how wet you were already. You moaned at the thickness of his touch inside you, the way he instantly found your g-spot and curved his fingers around it. “Oh baby,” Steve purred against your ear as you sank your forehead into his chest. “That’s right, thats my girl…”
You buried your nose against the coarse hair of Steve’s chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him, letting his warmth consume you. “Such a good girl…such a good girl for Daddy…” Steve‘s voice was like syrup, sweet and soothing as he gently stroked inside your pussy. “Gave in so easily…” You frowned, momentarily caught off guard. “Didn’t give her Daddy any trouble at all,” Steve murmured sweetly. “Just a couple of fingers up her cunt, and she forgets how to be a brat…”
You lifted your head from Steve’s chest, meeting his eyes. He was smirking at you, fingers buried to his knuckles in your cunt. He clearly thought he’d won, that he’d broken you. But it wasn’t a gentle fuck you were after; you wanted to be punished. A soft fingering wasn’t going to be enough; and you realized that unless you showed Steve that you were still VERY much a brat, he wasn’t going to be convinced…
So with all the strength you could muster, considering how fucking amazing Steve’s fingers felt up your cunt, you looked up at him and said with a straight face, “I have somewhere to be, Daddy.” You pushed Steve’s arm out from between your legs, lifting off his fingers with a wet squelch. “You’ll just have to play with my pussy later…”
Steve’s lips curved into a circle of surprise; he had NOT been anticipating this from you. But his demeanor shifted quickly to something much darker, his eyes staring you down intensely. “Later?” he muttered, his voice like ice. “You’re gonna make me wait, Princess?”
Your heart raced once again as you nodded, happy to see this darker Steve returning.
“The hell I will,” Steve growled. His hand found your hair, fingers clutching it just tightly enough not to hurt. You tried not to smile, but it was difficult to hide it. THIS was the Steve you’d been trying to provoke.
He led you by your hair to the nearby sofa, pushing you down so your ass was facing him. Another hard swat of his palm against it had you wincing, grinning freely into the couch cushions where Steve couldn’t see. “Fucking brat,” Steve murmured over your back, moving to straddle you. “Full of surprises tonight, aren’t you Princess?”
Steve pulled the skirt up over your ass and spanked you again, leaving a mark this time which he quickly soothed with his palm. You didn’t mind Steve roughing you up, but he was worried sometimes about going too far and accidentally hurting you. “You good, Princess?” he asked, and you quickly replied “yes, Daddy. But I wish you’d spank me next.”
Steve almost laughed out loud at your audacity, but restrained himself. He didn’t restrain his hand, however, and this time, his smack against your ass brought a tear to your eye. “Fuck yes,” you groaned into the couch cushion, your voice muffled but Steve could still hear it. He was on his knees behind you now, straddling your legs. His fingers slid under the waist of your thong panties and yanked them off of you, unintentionally ripping the elastic in his haste. “Oops,” he muttered under his breath, throwing the strip of fabric aside.
Steve took in the view of your bare ass, your cheeks crimson from his punishment. He pressed a hand to your back, sliding his palm down your spine, his touch lingering at the dip just above your ass. He leaned forward, taking a bit of your skin between his teeth. You flinched, your body tensing at the slight pain. Steve massaged your skin between his teeth, working his way across your ass, his hands on either side, groping.
When he was finished, Steve spread you open, and sank his face between your cheeks. You exhaled as his tongue slid down between your pussy lips and slowly up over your asshole. Steve continued to massage you, kneading your ass like dough in his strong hands. You arched your back, pressing your ass into his face. Steve obliged you, tilting his chin so you were now sitting on his face, the tip of his nose slipping between the lips of your pussy, his tongue lapping at your clit from behind.
Steve ate you like this till you were screaming his name, cum spraying his chin and trickling into his mouth like a small stream. He rutted his face between your lips letting you ride his nose as you came, breathing through his mouth in between swallowing your cum, grateful for every single drop. You were left shaking and crying into the couch, your mind and body completely fucked stupid. Steve had finally broken you, his little brat, and he smiled over your back at his victory, licking his slick lips and taking a moment to savor his win.
He flipped you over by your shoulders and hoisted you up onto the couch, your back against it. The look on your face was priceless: eyes glassy, half-lidded and dumb, your mouth hanging open lazily as you readily accepted whatever else your Daddy wanted to do to you. He knelt against the couch with one knee, eyes fixed on yours as he undid his pants. You were lost in a haze of bliss, taking in the sight of Steve’s drenched face and shirt, the smell of your pussy filling the air between you. He spit on his cock and pumped it a few times in his fist, lining himself up with your entrance.
In one hard thrust, Steve entered you fully, his balls slapping wet against your sopping cunt. He growled low in his chest, your wet heat enveloping and sucking him as he pulled his hips backward. Thrusting into you again, you felt the breath knocked out of your lungs. THIS is the fucking you’d needed Steve to give you, making you come harder than you ever had before and then stuffing you with his cock to do it all again…
He punched your insides like he was actually angry, hands locked around your hips, not letting you escape, even as you bucked and whimpered against his chest. Steve panted into your hair, dusting it off your shoulders as he fucked your ass into the couch. Your body was weak, depleted from the sheer power of the climax you’d just had on Steve’s face. He knew you could do it again, however, could already feel another orgasm building within you as your walls trembled around him.
“Come on, Princess,” he soothed, his forehead pressed to yours as he thrusted deep inside you. “You can do it…come for Daddy, baby…” Steve’s voice was so gentle it made you weak, the scent of your cunt on his breath as he spoke sending you over the edge. Your legs shook around Steve’s waist, your heels kicking into his ass as he pummeled your cunt. The room around you went white as your eyes squeezed shut, the force of your orgasm rocking you even harder than the one before it. Steve’s cock was prodding your deepest space, nearly splitting you in half. It would have been painful, SHOULD have been painful, but your body was too lost in the intensity of your climax to know it.
He moaned your name against your ear, a beautiful desperation and love in his tone. “Come for me, Daddy,” you begged, a hot tear streaming down your cheek. “Come inside this pussy…it belongs to you…”
At that, Steve lost the last bit of restraint he had, growling into your shoulder as he emptied himself against your cervix. You felt his cum filling you, breeding you, marking you once again as his, and only his.
Steve’s chest was wet with sweat and your cum soaked into his shirt. He gently lifted off of you, panting down at you, and smiled. You lifted your face to meet Steve’s, nuzzling the tip of your nose against his, still wet with your slick. “I love you, Daddy,” you breathed, a soft smile spreading your lips.
Steve kissed you, deeply, his cum-soaked tongue folding gently with yours. He pulled back and sleepily blinked down at you, grinning. “Love you too, Princess.”
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ent-is-indecisive · 3 days
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i know i based this on something but i can't find it again so. from the bottom of my heart, my bad.
EDIT : I FOUND IT (aka @patchworkgargoyle is a good writer)
also im just fucking around with however i draw and paint. sketch below the cut bc this is the prettiest eddie face i've drawn. anyways, cool shit for @subeddieweek
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 days
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if you want to use me, i could be your puppet
for @subeddieweek day four with the prompt edging
rated e | 2,505 words | please check ao3 for tags
Day one:  ao3 | tumblr Day two: ao3 | tumblr Day three: ao3 | tumblr
⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕
Eddie didn’t think this through.
Running from Steve’s bedroom, naked, meant he would have to find a hiding place.
He did not want to have to deal with this right now.
He didn’t need Steve seeing the way Eddie’s feelings would no doubt show on his face, how he’d be quick to brush off Steve’s apology.
How quickly he’d agree to continuing what they’re doing so he had something rather than nothing at all.
The house was quiet, dark, a reminder of how lonely Steve probably was when he wasn’t busy with the kids or Robin or him. No wonder he was always so quick to jump in bed with Eddie; He wanted a warm body to keep him company.
“Eddie! Wait!” Steve’s voice came from the top of the stairs, but Eddie didn’t turn.
Maybe if he locked himself in the downstairs bathroom, Steve would give up and he could sneak out to his van wrapped in a towel or something. He’d done worse.
Unfortunately, Steve was much faster than him, probably due to the whole jock thing. Eddie had no chance.
Steve’s hand burned where it touched Eddie’s arm, trying to make him turn around and face him.
“Please, Eds. Please look at me. Let me-”
“I don’t want you to explain, Steve.” Eddie turned to him, suddenly angry. How dare he ruin what they were doing? How dare he take something that was so precious and send it careening off the road so quickly? “I want to pretend it never happened. I want to go back to letting you touch me and kiss me and hurt me just right. I want to know you don’t mean it.”
“Why?” Steve sounded angry. “Why would you want that? Is it that bad? What is it about me loving someone that makes them wanna run in any other fucking direction than to me?”
And Eddie wasn’t really prepared for that.
He didn’t really know exactly what happened with Nancy or any of the other girls Steve had been with in high school. He didn’t really know much about any of his casual hookups. He just knew that Steve gave so much to anyone he cared about, and many people took more than was fair of him to give.
“Why can’t I love you, Eddie?”
Eddie looked at Steve, really looked at him.
His eyes were watery, red-rimmed as if he was doing everything he could to resist letting the tears fall. Eddie could see his flush cheeks, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to hold back a sob. His hands shook.
Eddie recognized this for what it actually was. Sure it was emotion, and maybe Steve felt it was genuine emotional turmoil.
But it was also the start of a panic attack, one that would quickly escalate to something Eddie wasn’t sure he could help Steve through.
“Steve, hey-”
“Don’t fuckin’ pacify me, man.” Steve’s breathing picked up and Eddie had to shut this down. “I can be upset.”
“Yes, you absolutely can. I’m not gonna tell you how to feel, but you definitely need to breathe, nice and slow.” Eddie put his hand on Steve’s bare chest, forgetting for a moment that they were both still naked, both still sweaty and sticky from everything they did in Steve’s bed.
“I am breathing.”
“You’re panting. You need to sit down.”
“I’m not sitting down-”
“Red.”
Steve froze.
Eddie immediately regretted saying it, hated that he was using this in a situation outside of their agreement.
He just needed Steve to stop and take care of himself for a second.
“That’s not fair,” Steve’s voice was shaky, unsure. He’d never heard it like that, not even when they first started this, not when they discussed the difficult things.
“It may not be fair, but neither is what you said.” Eddie looked behind him at the couch, the same couch Steve had held his hand while they talked about what they’d be into trying together. “Can we sit?”
“I dunno, are you gonna run again?” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, which would be a hilarious image any other time, but was currently just really sad.
“No. I’m not gonna leave.”
“Yet.”
“Yet,” Eddie agreed.
They both sat down on the couch, shifting until there was enough distance not to touch, facing each other.
Steve threw the blanket over their laps to at least make an attempt at being serious.
“I’m sorry I said it like that.” Steve sighed as he put his head back against the couch. At least he seemed to be holding himself together better now. Maybe Eddie could have a turn at a breakdown. “I shouldn’t have said it when we were still…”
“You shouldn’t have said it at all, Steve.” Eddie watched as Steve ground his teeth together. “I know you may think that’s what you’re feeling, but you were on a sex high.”
“I can see why you’d think that,” Steve sounded like he was doing his best to stay calm. “That’s why I shouldn’t have said it then. But I did mean it. That hasn’t changed and it won’t change.”
“Steve, be serious.”
“I am! I need you to be serious! I love you. I’ve loved you for long enough to know that’s what it is.” Steve turned his head and gave him a sad smile. “I know it wasn’t supposed to happen, and I know you don’t feel the same, but I’m glad I said it, even if it wasn’t how I planned to.”
Eddie had to remind himself to breathe as Steve’s words sank into his brain, consumed his chest and stomach, made the nerves in his body spark with a combination of hope and fear.
“How long?” Eddie squeaked out.
“You remember that night when we talked about our limits?” Steve grinned.
“That was…so long ago. What the hell?” Eddie slapped Steve’s knee, but didn’t pull it away fast enough. Steve’s hand grabbed his. “We’ve been around each other almost every day since then.”
“And I thought about it every day,” Steve admitted. “I was gonna ask you on a date first and make it a big romantic thing. I had a plan.”
“Steve, I-” Eddie shook his head. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to say these things to me to keep me around. I mean, it’s not like anyone’s lining up at my door. I wouldn’t trust anyone the way I trust you with all this. I kinda figured you’d be the one to call it off soon.”
Steve moved the blanket for a moment, tugged Eddie into his lap, and tilted his head to the side.
“I’m not going anywhere, Eds. You’ve got me and I’ve got you.”
How did he do that? How did he sound so sincere, so charming, after such an emotional admission?
“You’ve got me?”
“I’ve got you,” Steve surged forward, lips crashing against Eddie’s as his hands left bruises on his hips.
Eddie would be an idiot to let him go.
He would have to trust that Steve meant it, and he’d have to trust that his heart would be safe in Steve’s hands.
He already trusted him with everything else.
The blanket that had barely been around his waist slipped, half pooling on the couch next to them and half falling to the floor.
Steve pulled away, breathless.
“Will you?” He asked.
Eddie had no idea what he was actually asking. “Will I…?”
“Go on a date with me.”
“Yeah, Stevie. I’ll go on a date with you. You’re buying, though,” Eddie winked.
“Of course,” Steve nodded, leaning up to peck him on the lips. “I was thinking about a road trip. Heard there’s a new record shop opening in Bloomington if you wanted to check it out.”
“Fuck, you really do love me, don’t you? You know I could spend hours in there, right?” Eddie’s heart couldn’t handle the soft look in Steve’s eyes.
“Yeah, I’ll bring a cooler with drinks and snacks. It’ll be fun,” Steve shrugged.
Eddie inched back the tiniest bit and was suddenly reminded that they were very naked. And Steve was getting hard again.
“You know…this house is kinda quiet. Maybe we could…”
“Oh, you wanna be loud?” Steve raised his brow. “Hm. I guess I should give you a reason to be.”
The tone was different, not quite his usual teasing demand, but something that left Eddie wanting.
“Please. God, Steve, I need it, need you,” Eddie had no idea where this begging came from, or why he suddenly felt like he would die without Steve’s hands on him.
“I know what you need, baby,” Steve kissed his jaw, soft for what Eddie knew was coming. “But I need you to tell me your color first.”
“Green, so green.”
“Hey.” There was the demanding tone. “Look at me.”
Eddie had no choice but to look.
“I need you to think about it. Don’t think about how desperate you are. Are you okay with everything we talked about? Are you okay with me loving you?”
Eddie thought about it. Was he actually okay with their short conversation, the feelings Steve admitted to, what that would mean going forward for them? Or was he desperate in more ways than one?
No, no he definitely was okay with this. He’d been so worried that his feelings would never be returned, that he’d be in an endless loop of unrequited love, that he’d do what Steve did and let it slip while he was in space.
Having the guy he loved love him back was a best case scenario for him.
“Green.”
Steve’s lips were back on his, hungry, rough, almost more than Eddie was prepared for, but it wasn’t unwelcome. He sunk into the feeling, let himself drift into Steve physically so he could carry him away mentally.
“Wanna get my fingers in you. Think you can handle just spit?” Steve said as he nipped at Eddie’s neck, leaving red, leaving teeth marks. Eddie wished they could be permanent. Maybe he’d get them tattooed.
“Mhm, please,” Eddie nodded, ignoring the tiny part of his brain that was telling him to be responsible and get the lube. He’d be sore if they didn’t.
The louder part of his brain didn’t care about that, wanted to be sore. He could feel good now and deal with the limp tomorrow.
Steve’s fingers ghosted over Eddie’s lips, pressing down until his mouth opened. He sucked them in, three of them, moaning around them as he made sure they were slick enough to get inside with little resistance.
They were both impatient.
Steve pulled his fingers from Eddie’s mouth only a few seconds later, gently patting his cheek with his other hand when he whined at the loss.
“You’ll have me inside you again, baby.”
Steve didn’t waste another second.
His wet fingers rubbed against Eddie’s entrance, fingertips teasing along his rim and just barely pushing inside one at a time.
It was too much, not nearly enough, and almost exactly what Eddie needed all at once.
He was so close already, teetering on the edge of coming without a hand on him or fingers actually inside him, and it would probably be embarrassing if Eddie could think about a single thing that wasn’t the way heat was pooling in his stomach and chest.
“Close,” Eddie whimpered, bucking up against nothing as if that was even necessary.
Steve’s hands were gone. Just like that. No warning at all.
Eddie whimpered again, reaching his hands out to touch, to beg, to do whatever would get Steve’s hands back on him and finish the job he started.
“No, baby,” Steve said, shaking his head. “Not yet.”
And so it went.
Steve got a finger inside him, barely thrusting it in and out before removing it completely when Eddie would start rocking back into the touch.
Then there were two fingers, and Eddie could just barely feel the pressure against his prostate, begging for more or less or something that would be different from the current hanging by a thread he was doing.
He could feel himself drifting, knew he was mentally checking out from what was happening, but he could still hear Steve’s rough voice soothing him, guiding him.
Three fingers pressed inside him, slower than before, stretching him in a way he never could himself.
He felt full, used.
“Color, sweet boy,” Steve said from somewhere in front of him. Eddie was having trouble centering himself, couldn’t quite figure out where he was physically even though he knew he was with Steve.
The fingers inside him stilled, not working him open further or pushing and pulling until Eddie was naturally rocking back and forth.
Steve needed an answer. Eddie had to give him one.
“Green.”
“Good boy,” Steve praised.
Eddie pretended that didn’t make his heart flip-flop in his chest, but something must have given him away anyway. Steve was grinning at him knowingly, though he didn’t say anything.
“You’re gonna come when I tell you, right? Not a second earlier than that.”
At this point, Eddie was pretty sure Steve was in complete control of his body. He was simply the puppet on Steve’s strings.
“Answer me, Eddie.” Steve pushed against his prostate, making his body shiver and cock twitch.
“Only when you say,” Eddie gasped out, lifting his hips to pull away from the overstimulation, but immediately falling back down when he missed it. “Wanna be good for you.”
Steve groaned, and his fingers pushed in and out of Eddie faster.
He wanted to be good, but he was only human.
“St-” Eddie moaned. “-eve. Can’t-”
“‘S okay, baby. You can come now.”
And Eddie did.
Just like that.
The relief of finally being able to unclench his thighs, to actually feel the last string tethering him to earth snap as his release painted Steve’s stomach.
His fingers slowed, but didn’t leave him, keeping him stretched as he clenched around them during the waves of pleasure still wringing through him. He felt like he’d never stop feeling this deep pulsing, had to try to open his eyes to see if he was still coming somehow.
Steve was murmuring something against his hair.
When had he even fallen against Steve’s chest, face buried in his neck?
How long had he been just whimpering against him like a dog in heat?
“...So good for me, sweet boy. So proud of you for waiting for permission.”
Oh.
Praise like that wasn’t exactly a new part of their aftercare, but it was rare that Steve said it more than once or twice, usually just holding him in his arms in silence while Eddie came back down from the clouds.
He’d think about that later.
For now, he let his body relax, the noises stop, and his breathing slow.
He could sleep in Steve’s arms, feel the love pouring from his words and fingertips, and plant his feet on the ground in the morning.
Day five: ao3 | tumblr
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voyeurmunson · 5 months
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Blurb idea:
New BF Steve's heard about your ex's (Munson) dom vibes, so he thinks he needs to step up and be a little more...assertive with you
“He did what to you?” Steve gasps, his eyes widening in shock as Robin covers her mouth quickly.
“Robin, seriously?” you groan and she goes to apologize for spilling the beans of yours and Eddie’s past sex life but Steve interrupts her before she can get a word out.
“I didn’t know you were into stuff like that.” he says, his light brown eyes searching your face carefully.
“Steve, it’s nothing. He was just… different. Very um.. I don’t know. Dominant? Can we talk about anything else please? Anything other than how my ex used to fuck me?”
“Shit, yeah. Sorry, honey.” Steve sighs but you can see his mind is running wild with thoughts, wheels turning in his brain.
*Later that night*
“Why didn’t you tell me you liked to be fucked like a little slut?” Steve burns as he presses your head down even deeper causing you to gag on his thick cock. You’re soaked down below, this new side of Steve sending you into a spiral. All you can do is moan around his cock in response as he grips your hair tightly.
He pulls you up by your roots, his long cock sliding out of your mouth, slapping straight against his firm stomach as you try to catch your breath. “Bend over, baby.” he growls, leading you toward the bed. You lay across the edge of the bed, your ass sticking out on display for him.
His hands grope and squeeze your cheeks before you feel a delicious sting across your ass making you yelp. “Shit, too hard?” Steve’s voice reverts back to his usual softness and you shake your head adamantly.
“More… Steve, please.” you whimper, wiggling back towards him. He chuckles lustfully and you feel his head against your warmth, his tip running up and down your wet slit.
“H-holy shit, you’re soaked. You fucking love it like this, don’t you? My little slut for pain?” he moans as he presses himself deep inside of you, filling you to the brim.
“Fuck, Steve. S-So big. You’re so big.” you whine. He smacks your ass again, leaving mark after mark as he fucks you senseless. Filthy words falling from his lips as he destroys you from behind.
“Harder?” he taunts.
“Yes!”
“Want it rough, baby? So fucking rough. Look at you. Look at my girl.”
“Steve!”
You scream his name as tears flood your vision, Steve fucking you like never before. He doesn’t stop, loving every minute of seeing you like this. He loves the new noises he’s pulling from you, watching your body react in ways he’s never seen. Every little cry pushing him to be more assertive, more confident.
“Gonna make you cum again and again. My girl wants to be a little fucktoy, hmm? Well my baby always gets what she wants.”
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corrodedbisexual · 4 days
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Just curious about it in light of this week's festivities
Note: this is NOT a top/bottom preference question.
No fighting in the tags/comments. Everyone's shipping preferences are beautiful and valid
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cuips-not-cute · 2 months
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When Eddie falls, the whole bed shakes.
The first thing Steve does is make sure Eddie's alright, that he didn't like, hurt anything. But he's still rocking against his thumb, still taking those same soft breaths, only now they're muffled with half his face pressed to the sheets.
The second thing Steve does is check the camera. A lot hinges on that little device. It's fine, still upright, still running.
Steve sighs in relief. Bends his thumb again to make Eddie make that same noise he did when his arms gave out, smiling a little to himself when it works.
This is a nice angle, he thinks. The camera will pick up on everything—Eddie's sloped back and broad shoulders, the few curls fanned out on the pillow, shaken loose from the bun, the tattooed dragon at the base of his spine, which is the most Eddie-like thing he's ever seen.
Of course he'd get a nerdy tramp stamp. Steve's stomach lurches a little to think that he probably got it with the intent of it being sexy. That's why people get slutty little back tattoos, isn't it? Eddie just never had the chance to show it off.
Well. He can now. Steve sees it.
He's leaking precum all over it, too, and maybe that's why Eddie got it, so it could get defaced like this, some extra pretty thing to look at for whoever's behind him. Steve smears his free thumb over the ink, rubbing in some of the pre. It disappears into his skin, leaving just a sheen of wetness behind.
Steve would press his lips to the little dragon's head if that were anatomically possible, right there in the divot of Eddie's spine. If Eddie wanted his lips there, anyways, he thinks guiltily, trying his hardest to shove kiss-related thoughts down deep.
from chapter 3 of my fic, blinking red light. click for subby eddie and angsty, sexy videotapes❤️
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