katethetank

[katethetank]

Hello🥹 I’m new to your blog and I’m loving the AYW series. I honestly got hooked on the Ryan’s Birthday party one shot, could I maybe request a follow-up to Steve’s and Eddie’s conversation of “you should be fucking the babysitter”? maybe Eddie accidentally bumping his head against the car he was working on and coming out and sharing a beer with Steve starting with “no man, no way”, and then sharing feelings about his relationship with Brittany and with her? Maybe confessing he has somewhat of a crush on her? And then coming home to find her after that conversation with Steve? Maybe Steve is the one who drops him home and comes inside the house for a bit? Haha sorry if it is too specific 🥹💖 I’m really loving the series

It was time for some more of this dynamic duo. This picks up right at the end of Ryan's Birthday

Words: 1.5k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“So, uh, question for you. Are you fucking the babysitter? Because between you and me? You should be.”

Eddie’s head bumps against the hood of the car he had just begun to work on again. His throat goes dry, words failing him as he stares into the face of his best friend. “What?” he finally rasps out. “W-Why would you ask that?”

Steve can’t help but roll his eyes. Munson can’t act for shit and Steve wonders how he never noticed the man’s crush on the younger woman before. 

“Oh, cut the bullshit, it’s me,” Steve says. 

The bangs and whirs of the garage around them suddenly seem too quiet to Eddie, like everyone in the building will hear anything he says out loud. But what is he going to say? He’s never uttered a word about his feelings for you out loud. The guilt already ate at him that he had these feelings at all. It was hard enough to admit how he feels about you to himself, he isn’t sure how to vocalize it, even if it is to his best friend.

“I, uh…” Eddie clears his throat and takes the grease-soaked rag off his shoulder just to have something to do with his hands. 

“Dude,” Steve says. “Do you think I’m going to tell anyone? What, I’m gonna go to Brittany? I hate talking to her about anything at all; I’d never voluntarily do it. Just spill it, I already know.”

“H-How?” It’s the only word Eddie’s able to utter.

Steve huffs a laugh, amazed by his friend’s obliviousness. 

“You weren’t subtle. I mean, maybe to someone who doesn’t know you. But I was there back in those days when you fell in love with Brittany. Shit, you look at the babysitter with way more love than you ever did her. I thought I’d see little cartoon hearts in your eyes.”

Heat blooms in Eddie’s face, both in embarrassment and nervousness. His eyes shift from left to right, his mind running all over the map. If Steve noticed, who else did? Wayne did give him a look at the end of Ryan’s party the other day. Of course the old man knows, he knows Eddie better than anyone. 

Wait, if Steve clocked this, did Nancy? Oh God, she must think he’s the worst. Having these thoughts and feelings about a woman who isn’t his wife. A woman who is so much younger than him. Did Max notice? Did Lucas? Did you?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, chill the hell out,” Steve says, waving a hand in front of his friend. “Stop that brain from going into panic mode.” “Do you think anyone else–”

“No,” Steve says before Eddie can finish his question. “I started to look out for it once I noticed. Then it was painfully obvious. You look like a God damn puppy when she smiles at you.”

An involuntary goofy smile grows on Eddie’s face, and it’s all the confirmation Steve needs—though he really didn’t need any at all. 

“Jesus Christ, you��re really gone for her.”

Eddie looks around to make sure there’s no one close enough to hear his words. The last thing he needs is someone else learning about his shameful secret. “I really fucking am,” Eddie says. “Shit, I feel like I’m going crazy.”

Steve huffs a small laugh and shakes his head. 

“She’s a good kid. Oop, sorry. I’ll choose my words more carefully.”

Steve winces when Eddie glares at him.

“She’s not a kid,” Eddie states.

“How old is she?”

“Twenty.”

Steve considers for a moment, and Eddie takes in every little minute detail of the expressions on his face. 

“Holy shit, calm down, will you? I’m not judging you. Or her. I mean, Jesus, do you remember what I was like in high school?”

“Unfortunately.”

“I have no room to judge anyone. And besides, it’s not even that big of an age gap.”

“Twelve years,” Eddie says with a shrug. “And it’s not like she’s a teenager.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why, but something about that would make it seem weird. Never mind the difference is only a few months.”

“You’re not helping,” Eddie grits out.

Steve waves his hand in the air in a dismissive manner.

“I already said I’m not judging, damn. She seems pretty mature for her age, too.”

“She is.”

The smile on Eddie’s face warms Steve’s heart—not that he’d ever tell him that. But he’s watched his best friend deal with a shitty marriage for almost a decade now. The light in his eyes went out around the time Ryan was born, and Steve hasn’t seen it since. So Steve doesn’t care if this woman was eighteen or eighty, she made Eddie happy, and that’s something Steve worried he’d never see again.

“But you’re not fucking?” Steve asks just to clarify.

“No,” Eddie says, both of them picking up on the disappointment in his tone.

“Would you leave Brittany for her?”

And there it is. The question Eddie’s pondered on those nights when sleep just won’t find him and he’s staring at the ceiling fan spinning round. It’s all so much more complicated than just that simple question. But if Eddie can’t even come up with an answer to this, how would he be able to figure any of the other shit out? Thoughts of his sons and everything that would put them through go through his head, and he can’t bring himself to say he’d willingly inflict that kind of pain on them. 

“I don’t know.”

Eddie’s voice is quiet, uncertain.

“Would you cheat on Brittany with her?”

This is another question that’s swirled around in Eddie’s head. One that’s much easier to answer, in his opinion.

“After she’s been cheating on me for more than half of our relationship? Hell yes.”

“You’d feel guilty, though.”

It’s not a question; Steve knows him.

Eddie sighs and throws the rag over his shoulder again. He kicks his scuffed boots against the floor of the garage and rests his hands on the open hood of the car.

“I think I’d get over it.”

“Oh, I know you would,” Steve says with a knowing smirk. “The minute you find out that she has feelings for you, too? Shit, you’re going to forget you even have a wife. And that’s not necessarily bad with you, honestly. Because in a lot of ways, you don’t have a wife. She’s not been a real partner for how long?”

Eddie scoffs. “Ever?”

Steve snorts a laugh in agreement. 

“Man, I’m not telling you what to do…”

“But you are,” Eddie says with a smirk.

“Maybe,” Steve says with a shrug. “But go for it with the babysitter, yeah?”

Eddie sighs and shakes his head as he looks down into the engine bay of the car he’s supposed to be working on.

“You say that like she’ll want me.”

“Feel it out,” Steve suggests. “That’s what flirting is for, no? Not like you’re not already doing that.”

“What?” Eddie looks up at his friend in confusion.

Steve can’t help but let out a breathy chuckle and roll his eyes at how utterly oblivious his friend is.

“You’re shitting me, right? When you threw her in the pool?” Steve raises his eyebrows. When Eddie just continues to look confused, Steve rubs at his brow. “Wow. The way you held her and looked at her? You practically eye-fucked her.” 

Eddie scoffs a laugh, and his cheeks turn red.

“What? No way.”

“Whatever man,” Steve says as he shakes his head in exasperation. “Here, just take this.”

Steve takes his hand out of his pocket and holds it out towards Eddie. The mechanic frowns in confusion and he extends his hand palm up. The foil of a condom falls against his dirty and greasy hand. Eddie’s eyes widen as he quickly shoves the small square in his pocket before someone else can see it.

“You think I don’t have these at home?” Eddie hisses.

“It’s been a minute,” Steve says, and Eddie doesn’t know if he’s kidding or not. “They’re probably expired.”

Eddie groans as he drops his head back. 

“God, you might be right. They’re probably older than Luke.”

Steve would laugh if he didn’t think Eddie was serious. 

“Better toss those so you don’t accidentally use one. The last thing you need is to knock up the babysitter.”

Instead of automatically agreeing like Steve assumed he would, Eddie chokes on his own saliva and avoids Steve’s eyes. He gets weirdly quiet before he sputters something about having to get back to work. The red face is enough of a clue for Steve, though; a clue he never wanted nor asked for.

“Alright,” Steve says with a nauseated expression on his face. “That’s a conversation for another day. After, like, five drinks.”

[katethetank]

I think of this scene from Hoard any time I read a fic where Eddie has a flat butt. No ma'am, he's got a cute little peach and I will die on that hill.

Come get your Johnny Storm endorsed sunscreen

[katethetank]

You can see the exact moment Tommy gets over Steve

[katethetank]

Period.

"Did you know people are masturbating to your smut fics-- 🤢" I hope they get twice as wet as I did writing it, mind your fucking business.

[katethetank]

Sometimes I forget that this lil guy right here 👇

This cutie patootie—Has a W.A.S.P pin on his battle jacket, listening to music that Tipper Gore and the PMRC (and every other suburban mom) wanted explicit labels for. Which means he was listening to lyrics like this

I do whatever I want to, to ya

I'll nail your ass to the sheets

A pelvic thrust and the sweat starts to sting ya

I fuck like a beast

Like sir?!

Sir!???

[katethetank]

Forbidden Fruit - Chapter 17

Rating: 18+ minors gtfo Chapter Summary: Dustin comes to find out what was actually going on between his dad and Eddie. CW: Age gap, Dustin POV Pairing: Older!Steve x Younger!Eddie (Single Dad!Steve) Word Count: 1.8k Author's Note: There have been a lot of strong opinions shared about Dustin's part in this! As I was writing this whole story, it was with keeping in mind that while he's a very fucking intelligent person…he's still a teenage boy. They're inherently clueless and selfish creatures, and the world revolves around them. So, here. A chapter from Dustin's POV that I've been absolutely itching to get out! I haven't written anything like this before and I hope it sheds some light on his perspective. You may also consider this his redemption arc. Enjoy!!!

Chapter 16<<Masterlist>>Chapter 18

“Has anyone heard from Eddie?” 

“No, I texted him a few times but didn’t hear anything back.”

“Is he working again?”

“Dude, I don’t know, I said I didn’t hear anything back.”

Dustin rolls his eyes while Mike and Lucas go back and forth with their usual weekly game of Where’s Eddie. He couldn’t fucking care less where he is, so long as it’s not here. Things with his dad are better, but Dustin is still pretty fucking pissed at his former dungeon master.

Eddie the Betrayer.

It was bad enough that the guy kept making excuses and blowing them off week after week. But then figuring out why he wasn’t there? Why he was lying to everyone?

He really doesn’t want to think about it.

The never ending questions about where he is and what he’s doing are grating on Dustin’s fucking nerves. The Corroded Coffin guys have been pretty quiet. He’s hoping they don’t know. 

And Mike just cannot let anything go.

“Do you guys know where he is?” he asks the band.

They all share a look and shake their heads. “Nah man,” Jeff replies. “Haven’t heard from him.”

Dustin calls bullshit. He’s seriously had enough of the Eddie questions and just wants to get this fucking game going. “Who gives a shit? He clearly doesn’t want to play anymore, so let’s just get on with it.”

Mike gives him one of those shitty looks that make him look like a confused rat. “What’s your deal? This is his club, he started it. He said he was gonna keep playing with us and we haven’t seen him in forever.”

“My deal? My deal is that it doesn’t fucking matter anymore. We’re all here, we’re ready to play. If he doesn’t want to join us than good riddance.”

Everyone is looking at him like he’s lost his mind. Maybe he kind of has. Gareth is squinting at him like he’s trying to figure something out and Dustin fucking hates it. “Will, come on. Let’s get started.”

Without any more complaints, the game begins. It’s a good campaign. Will has been kicking ass at DMing and Dustin’s really proud of him. But his heart’s just not in it today. All this shit with Eddie and his dad…he’s not over it. He’s not sure he ever will be. Dad made his amends and cut off whatever the fuck was going on there, and Dustin’s forgiven him. But he hasn’t talked to Eddie. He doesn’t want to. It makes him sick thinking about his friend lying to him and hooking up with his father of all fucking people. Friends don’t lie. And friends don’t sleep with their other friend’s parents.

It’s so fucked up.

And he can’t get his head in this fucking game. They started in the afternoon and it’s nearing dinner time. Will calls for a break and everyone asks about ordering some food. Dustin gets up from the table, stretches, and heads to the living room where his dad said he’d be working on his laptop. When he turns the corner, he stops in his tracks. 

His dad is just sitting there on the couch. Staring off into space. The screensaver is bouncing around indicating he’s probably been like that for a while. His mouth is downturned and he looks fucking miserable. “Dad?”

He startles at the sound of Dustin’s voice and a big smile replaces the frown. “Hey bud! How’s it going in there? You guys getting hungry?”

Dustin has seen some shitty actors before, there were plenty at the Christmas play last night, but this is worse. And he’s realizing that it’s not the first time he’s seen it. They’ve been spending a lot of time together since the big blowout and it’s been great, if not sometimes a little suffocating. Dad’s always been so happy to go on their little excursions, but now he’s seeing it for what it really is. He’s masking. Wearing a happy face when they’re in the same room together. He can’t believe he didn’t notice it before.

“Uh, yeah. It’s good. Do you think we could order some food? Pizza or something?”

Dad picks his phone up off the couch and looks at it like he’s hoping to see something and tosses it over. “Yeah, whatever you guys want. Order through one of the apps, it’s got payment and shit all set up.”

“Ok. Thanks.”

He walks past his friends who are all up stretching their legs and grabbing sodas and goes to his room. He just needs a minute. Dustin sits on his bed and takes a moment to process what just happened. He thought his dad was fine. Clearly he’s not. It can’t be the Eddie thing though, right? They were just hooking up, his dad even said he never meant for it to happen, so why the hell would he still be bummed about it? Why would he be upset at all?

Dustin tries to shake the thought from his mind, and unlocks his dad’s phone. His birthday is the passcode. He pulls up the app for the closest pizza place and orders probably way too much, but these guys are like bottomless pits most of the time, so screw it. Just as he confirms the order, a text pops up at the top of the screen.

Eddie: I’m sorry about last night

His hand starts to shake before the notification even disappears. His face is heating up and his blood is fucking boiling. Are they still fucking around? Still going behind his back? If his dad is fucking lying to him again he’s going to lose his goddamn mind.

Dustin exits out of the app and goes right to the text thread, angrily deleting the message that just came through. No way in hell is gonna let Eddie worm his way back in. He scrolls up to find the start of the conversation they just had yesterday apparently, and his stomach sinks. Words are jumping out at him and he doesn’t know what to make of it. He finds where Eddie texted his dad last night and he grips the phone tightly in both hands as he reads.

I miss you

You always look out for me

I miss you too

you’re not my boyfriend anymore

I never wanted this to happen

I wish I could fix it

I still love you

I love you too

You were the best boyfriend

This doesn’t make sense. He thought they were just…fooling around or something. But they weren’t. They were…in a relationship? Like an actual, honest to god, relationship. They’re in love with each other.

He had no fucking idea. 

There’s a knock on his door and Will is looking at him like he’s worried about him. “Dustin? Are you ok?”

“Yeah.” He quickly closes the Messages app and locks his dad’s phone. “Just ordered pizza, it should be here soon.”

“Oh…ok. You know, if there’s something bothering you, you can talk to me.”

God, he wishes he could talk to someone about this. He takes a page out of his dad’s book and plasters on a smile. “I’m all good! Come on, let’s see if there’s any chips in the cabinet.”

The rest of the night passes in a blur and it kills him to fake his enthusiasm over beating Will’s monster. How the hell has his dad been doing this for so long? He makes everyone help clean up and refuses Lucas’s invite for another sleepover, telling them he’s got a stomach ache from all the pizza and soda, and eventually everyone heads home. 

Dad is already in his room when he finishes cleaning up the kitchen, so he flops on his bed and pulls his phone out of his pocket. Among his notifications is one from Instagram. He forgot that he had them turned on for when Corroded Coffin posts. They haven’t done anything in a while and Dustin is pretty sure he knows why. He clicks on the notice that they posted a reel, and when he opens it, it’s just a video of Eddie. 

He’s sitting cross legged on his couch in sweatpants and a hoodie that looks a lot like one of his dad’s. He feels pretty stupid when he realizes that yeah, it is his dad’s. Eddie’s hair is tied up and he’s got his acoustic in his lap. There’s a caption at the bottom that says I was never supposed to find it in you. I don’t regret that I did.

Eddie starts to strum and it’s not like anything he’s heard Corroded Coffin play before. It’s soft and sounds…really fucking sad. Eddie’s voice when he starts to sing is even sadder.

And I'll use you as a warning sign

That if you talk enough sense, then you'll lose your mind

And I'll use you as a focal point

So I don’t lose sight of what I want

And I've moved further than I thought I could

But I missed you more than I thought I would

And I'll use you as a warning sign

That if you talk enough sense, then you'll lose your mind

Dustin knows this song. It’s one of his dad’s favorites. The lyrics aren’t lost on him.

Oh, and I found love where it wasn't supposed to be

Right in front of me, talk some sense to me

And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be

Right in front of me, talk some sense to me

As Eddie continues to sing, he closes his eyes, but tears are falling. He sounds so fucking broken. Dustin’s never heard pain in someone’s voice like this before. 

And I'll use you as a makeshift gauge

Of how much to give and how much to take

Oh, I'll use you as a warning sign

That if you talk enough sense, then you'll lose your mind

Oh, and I found love where it wasn't supposed to be

Right in front of me, talk some sense to me

And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be

Right in front of me, talk some sense to me

The reel ends and Dustin feels like he’s got a brick in his stomach. He read this all so fucking wrong. He reacted without asking questions or seeking clarification, without letting Eddie or his dad tell him what was really going on, and now…clearly his friend is really fucking hurting.

He doesn’t even realize he’s been crying too until a tear falls onto his screen. He tosses his phone aside and gets up, heading to the bathroom to blow his nose and brush his teeth. He pauses in the hallway when he hears something from his dad’s room. Leaning towards the door, he hears the muffled sounds of sniffling, shaky breaths, and Eddie’s song. His dad is watching the video. He’s crying. 

Dustin feels like the world’s biggest asshole. He unknowingly fucked up their relationship and now all the pain they’re feeling…that they’ve probably been feeling…it’s all his fault.

He has to fix it.

Chapter 16<<Masterlist>>Chapter 18

Come on, Dusty!!!

Taglist is open!

@mrsjellymunson @the-unforgivenn @watermelonmite @micheledawn1975 @wordynerdygurl @themoonagainstmers @ellietheasexylibrarian

[katethetank]

Just a little posessive

[katethetank]

Written for @switcheddieweek.

got a love like denim

Prompt: Spit/Fluid | Word Count: 1888 | Rating: E | CW: Light BDSM, Bodily Fluids, Light Restraint and Hair Pulling | Tags: Established Relationship, Switch Eddie Munson, Switch Steve Harrington, Clothed Sex, Masturbation, Coming in Jeans, Boys in Love

Also on ao3.

Eddie's eyes are fully focused on Steve's lap. The tight denim stretched across his thighs, his big hand moving leisurely. Like Steve's in no hurry, like he doesn't know Eddie's pulse is jackhammering in his neck. 

Steve's got a ring on his index finger. The one Eddie put there to stake his claim until he can move it down two fingers, until he can spin it into gold. For now, the silver band is glinting like a promise in the low light, not allowing Eddie to look anywhere else. He's mesmerized.

Eddie could never deny that he's possessive of what's his — and Steve? Steve's his. He's his, and he's the best thing Eddie's got. Nothing else is even close.

Watching Steve run the palm of his hand up the length of himself, showing off for Eddie, isn't making Eddie any less territorial. Steve's decided to make Eddie look but not touch tonight, and not touching is torture.

Eddie wants to touch everything, but he especially wants to touch Steve.

Instead he drags his fingernails back and forth against the corduroy couch, scratching that tactile itch in another way.

Steve's head is tipped back against the cushions as he works his cock through his jeans. He's fully clothed, but it leaves absolutely nothing to Eddie's imagination. Eddie can see everything. Every line, every vein, even the familiar shape of his cockhead. Steve's always got a lot on display in those painted on jeans he wears, but hard like this, cock jutting out across his thigh, trapped beneath his pant leg, it's more.

It's obscene.

It's beautiful.

Eddie licks his lips, balling up his fists against his own thighs. 

He wants to take control, wants to touch. Wants to be the one to take Steve apart, piece by piece. Imagines restraining him, taking his wrists into Eddie's hands, holding him down. Forcing him to stop touching himself, just so Eddie can gaze at him. So he can be the one to get him off. But Steve asked him to keep his hands to himself tonight, and Eddie can be good for Steve. He can. Steve's always so good for him. Always does everything asked of him.

Eddie can do the same. It's not like he hasn't done it before, it's just that being good feels extra hard today. Hard like Steve's impressive cock, clothed but on full display. Causing Eddie's desire to run wild. 

Steve pulls his hands back, shivering as he presses them into his stomach, hips still moving. Fingers clenching at his stomach through his tucked in shirt, tugging down the collar, stretching it enough to give Eddie an eye full of his chest hair. Fuck. Goddamn. He's gorgeous.

Soft moans fill the air as Steve squirms on the couch, hips rotating, using the friction of the denim shifting across his hard cock to work himself closer and closer to the point of no return. Letting his jeans do the work until he can't stand it, until he has to touch himself again, hand desperately working his cock through his jeans. Rubbing with his thumb and bent forefinger, knuckle dragging as he works the denim against his length.

Pressing downwards, pulling the rough material taut, ever tighter over his leaking cock. Eddie can see the wet spot growing, darkening the well-worn denim. Steve's unable to get a full hand around himself, not clothed like this, even if he seems desperate to do so. 

The feeling is mutual. Eddie's desperate to touch him, too. Steve just needs to say the word. 

He doesn't.

It's maddening only being able to watch as Steve catches the edge of his ring, their ring, against the prominent ridge of his cock, shivering as he presses two fingers firmly against the tip, then rubs his knuckles against his balls, before pressing those fingers back to the tip again. His own touch is making him shake, but he just presses harder. Heels coming up off the floor, pushing up onto his tiptoes. Back arching.

He's gonna make himself fall apart, and Eddie is gonna get to witness it. How lucky is he that Steve Harrington is his? He'll never get over it, will never be anything other than utterly besotted by this man.

"That's so fucking hot," Eddie whispers. Steve never said he had to be quiet. Probably knew that'd be an impossible ask, given the scene unfolding in front of him.

Steve smiles, clearly pleased with Eddie's rapt attention. 

Eddie's hungry for it, and obviously so is Steve, as his breathing is getting louder, more ragged. That familiar whine building in the back of his throat. It never changes, even if he's in charge. It doesn't matter, he always loses control just the same, without fail.

Eddie loves it. Loves watching it happen, and especially loves hearing it happen. It's his favorite sound. That quick inhale, followed by a ragged exhale, as Steve comes. Eddie waits for it, watching him teeter on the edge before falling over. Two fingers stroking the head of his cock as he spasms, back arching, toes pointing. 

Breath hitching, nearly gasping as he rolls with the pleasure of release that's crashing over him in waves. Hand still working his cock, squeezing, pressing.

Eddie wants to touch him. Wants to crawl in his lap and grind down on him. Wants to kiss him while he's still breathing so heavy and uncontrolled.

He does none of that. Instead he just watches as the wet spot grows, enthralled. He wants to taste it. He flexes his own hands. Still being so good. Not touching. Not until he has permission.

Steve finally shows mercy.

He holds up his hand, showing the dampness on his fingers, his ring.

"Go ahead."

Eddie doesn't need to be told twice. He dips his head, taking the entire length of Steve's finger into his mouth. Sucking, spinning the ring with his tongue. Making sure it's clean.

When he pulls back he licks his lips, and Steve looks down at his crotch, waiting.

Eddie slides down Steve's body, hair falling around his face as he licks at the mess through Steve's jeans. Gripping both of Steve's hips with his hands, fingers hooking through Steve's belt loops, tugging him closer, desperate to touch him. Feel him. He pays extra attention to the head of Steve's cock with his mouth. Sucking, flicking his tongue. Going soft or not, it's still right there, that impressive bulge tempting him. Enticing him.

He'll never get enough of it, of Steve.

Steve jerks in his seat. He's sensitive. He's gotta be. With that rough denim still pressing against his bare, spent cock. Steve doesn't push him away though, no, he grabs the back of Eddie's head, keeping him there. Leaning into the overstimulation. Holding Eddie down to his crotch, still in charge of what's happening here.

Making sure Eddie cleans up everything he can.

The moan that leaves Eddie's throat is raw, desperate. He runs his tongue against the rough denim, longing to taste. He licks, flattening his tongue as Steve moans and squirms around, hand clenched in Eddie's hair. Pulling, and pushing him down at the same time. Eddie's spit mixing with Steve's come.

Steve suddenly yanks Eddie's head upwards, a string of saliva connecting them until it snaps, clinging to Eddie's bottom lip.

"Spit," Steve demands, and Eddie works his tongue around his mouth, gathering everything he can to the tip of his tongue, showing Steve, before spitting onto his denim-clad cock.

Steve moans. Forcing Eddie's head back down to clean him up again, as Eddie makes the wet patch on Steve's jeans grow, expanding further.

Steve spreads his thighs wider, finally letting go of Eddie's head, folding his arms behind his head. 

Like he's calm, relaxed.

Like he's giving up his control.

And Eddie will take it. Will grab the reins Steve's dropped. Fuck yes he will. 

Manhandling Steve into laying back on the couch, making him giggle as Eddie covers his body with his own. Steve makes a scene, stretching his hands up over his head. Testing him, trying to get him to react.

Eddie does.

Grabbing both of Steve's wrists in one hand, covering as much of them as he can, squeezing. He leans down and teases Steve's nipple, the hard pebble of it showing through the thin cotton. Steve whines, and Eddie laves at him through the dampened material. He sucks, and flicks, and uses a hint of teeth to make Steve buck his hips. Eddie shifts his grasp from Steve's pinned wrists to his hands, their damp palms sliding against each other, until their fingers are laced together, tight. Eddie squeezes, and Steve squeezes back, sighing contentedly. 

Eddie finally shifts his hips, lining up his own achingly hard cock against Steve's spent one. Grinding down against the wet spot staining the denim as Steve holds up Eddie's full weight up with ease, Eddie's hands clutched in Steve's, pressing down, getting all the leverage Eddie could ever desire as he rolls his hips. He loves Steve's hands, his fingers, his arms. He appreciates his defined muscles, and all those veins that appear while he's so tensed up, muscles engaged, supporting Eddie.

Grinding against him, Steve whines at the extra stimulation. Eddie squeezes Steve's hands harder, and does it again.

And again.

"Eddie," Steve breathes out, pupils blown, cheeks red.

Eddie thrusts harder, and Steve keens, bucking. Biting at his bottom lip. Eddie's not strong enough to hold off, not after that, and he comes against Steve in rolling waves of intense pleasure.

Tossing his head back, exposing his throat, knowing Steve's eyes are on him. Watching. Wanting.

When he looks back down at Steve, Steve's smiling, eyes all hazy and content. Eddie shifts his weight from his hands to his hips, and Steve lets go. Eddie immediately moves his touch, their point of connection, from Steve's hands to his face. Brushing Steve's hair off his forehead, cupping his warm cheeks, Eddie's thumbs stroking Steve's skin, finding his way home using the raised roadmap of familiar moles.

Gazing down at him with reverence. 

With love. 

So much love.

Lowering his head until their lips meet, Eddie's spit-slick lips to Steve's plump and bitten ones, kissing him like they didn't both just get off. Like this is the start of the night, instead of the finish line.

Eddie eventually pulls back, and tucks his head into Steve's neck, Steve's careful and caring hands running up and down his back. Soothing him. Holding him. Loving him.

"I'm sticking to my jeans," Steve says, and Eddie knows what he means. It's not pleasant, but getting up, stopping touching him, well, that isn't a welcome thought either.

Eddie lets out a low growl, and Steve laughs. 

Patting Eddie on the back, Steve says, "C'mon. If you get up, you can watch me shower."

Well, he supposes in that case he could be persuaded to move. 

"Will you put on a show, just for me?" Eddie asks, giving Steve the eyes he can't resist. He knows the game he's playing. Knows all the ways to get exactly what he wants: Steve.

And Steve grins, well aware he's being played, Eddie's damn certain, but he still runs both of his palms over the swell of Eddie's jean-clad ass, squeezing, eyes promising more as he says, "Always."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @switcheddieweek and follow along with the fun! 🖤

[katethetank]

Punch me out

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 4

Prompt: Meet-cute at work

Rated: E

CW: Blowjobs, dirty talk, slight degradation kink

Tags: No UD AU; company Christmas party; bathroom sex; blowjobs; dirty talk; Eddie is a disaster and Steve is a slut and they both love it; inappropriate use of vending machine drinks

Eddie shouldn't have gone to the company Christmas party. The few weeks he's worked here taught him a bunch of stuff. 

The CEO? Asshole. 

The management? Spineless lickspittles.

The corporate culture? A conglomerate of bullshit. Eddie’s position is called Facility Manager - the most ridiculous euphemism for Janitor ever.

Anyhow!

He shouldn't have come, but Gareth insisted that was exactly what those tie-wearing douchebags wanted, so they went. 

Only that Gareth has disappeared with the receptionist, leaving Eddie to aimlessly meander while the tie wearers got progressively more drunk. He should probably have gone home.

Only he didn't. 

So he kind of brought this upon himself, he thinks, while a puddle of punch soaks into his crotch and laughter wafts all around him. 

The only one looking equally horrified is the guy the punch belonged to. He’s still holding the empty cup and blushing from his chestnut hair all the way down to his business shirt. 

“Shit, sorry!” he babbles. “Didn’t see you there-” 

“Don’t sweat it, Stevie,” Tommy Hagan guffaws. “I’m sure he brought his mop.” 

Stevie’s face grows stony. “Shut it, Tommy.”

Hagan does. 

Before Eddie can feel confused, one large hand takes him by the shoulder and steers him away. 

“Sorry again.” 

“‘s alright,” Eddie shrugs. “Was just heading home-” 

“Oh, no.” A pair of big, sad eyes fixes him from behind wire-frame glasses. “At least let me make it up to you? Please?” 

How could Eddie say no to that? 

*

"Fuck, princess," Eddie groans, head thudding against the bathroom wall. "If that's you apologizing, you can spill stuff on me more o-ooooh …" 

Stevie doesn't answer, which … okay. That would be quite the feat with Eddie’s cock down his throat as it is. 

He looks up at Eddie from where he's kneeling, and fuck, the sight of him! Hairdo ruined, lips stretched obscenely wide, eyes glassy with arousal. The picture is almost enough to do Eddie in, so he tangles his fingers in that hair and yanks that warm, wet mouth closer. Stevie's eyes roll back and he moans, and that's all it takes before Eddie is coming down his throat. 

Stevie doesn't so much as whine, just swallows. God, he's perfect. Eddie wants to take him home. Tie him up in bed. Never let him leave. 

"Wow," he murmurs as Stevie pulls off, slack-jawed and starry-eyed. "Are you always such a cockslut, or was that only for me?" 

Stevie smiles up at him. The glint in his eyes is smug. 

"Only if it's such a nice cock," he hums. "What's attached to it isn't bad, either."

Pretty, slutty, and a little bratty to boot? Eddie will just have to keep him. 

"Give me your number?" he mumbles as Stevie staggers to his feet, and leans in for a sloppy kiss. 

Stevie dances out of his reach. 

"No need to," he winks, unlocking the door and skipping his way out. "We work in the same office. I'll find you." 

*

Stevie does not find him, of fucking course. Eddie tries to put it out of his mind, goes to work as usual and does definitely not scan the crowds for that voluminous shock of hair. 

He's actually relieved when the holidays come. The floors are empty and nobody calls because they need their door oiled or their light bulbs changed. Eddie holes up in his basement and starts working on that new campaign. 

Until the phone rings and a bored receptionist informs him Mr Harrington's height-adjustable desk is broken. 

"The CEO?" Eddie asks dumbly. 

"No," drawls the receptionist, "The son." 

*

The office is spacious and bright and tastefully decorated. Eddie hates everything about it. The fancy adjustable desk is not plugged in. 

He's just under it on all fours, ass in the air, fingers desperately stretching for the socket, when the door opens. He quickly shuts down his monologue about overpaid dumbasses. 

"Hey, man. I'll be out of your hair in a second." 

"No need to hurry," says someone. "I'll just enjoy the view." 

"What the- ow, motherfucker!" Eddie whirls around so fast he cracks his head on the desk. "Stevie?" 

Stevie kicks the door shut, sips idly on his vending machine drink, and observes how Eddie clambers to his feet. 

"Said I’d find you," he smiles. Before Eddie can form a reply, he's being pushed against the desk and there's a tongue down his throat. 

"I- wha- wait!" He tries to pull away. Stevie keeps nipping at his throat. "Are you crazy? Harrington Junior could be here any second." 

"He already is." 

Eddie yelps and looks around frantically, half expecting to see someone lurking behind a potted plant. There's nobody there. 

"But it's just me and-" 

And then it clicks. 

"Oh my God," he groans. The mouth against his pulse grins. 

"Steve is fine." 

"You're the CEO's son," Eddie babbles. "I called you a cockslut, I-" 

Stevie - no Steve, Steve fucking Harrington, Eddie is so fucked - just shrugs. 

“I am,” he says easily. 

Eddie gapes at him. 

“The CEO’s son or …” 

Steve laughs in his face. It’s bright and cheerful and adorable and so fucking cheeky, Eddie wants to teach him some manners. Long, graceful hands are fiddling with the zipper of his overalls. 

“Listen,” he sighs when Eddie doesn’t react, just keeps gaping at him like a fish out of water. “I’m sorry it took so long. I had an unexpected business trip to go on, but … I’ve been thinking about you the entire time. Let me make it up to you?” 

“I …” Eddie nods dazedly. Their lips brush with the movement. “Yeah, okay.” 

“Brilliant,” Steve says. Then, in one swift movement, he takes his drink and upends it in Eddie’s lap. 

Eddie gawks, heat pooling where the stain is spreading, tight and urgent. 

“Oops,” Steve Harrington deadpans, and gets on his knees. 

Maybe going to the Christmas party wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

All my holiday drabbles

[katethetank]

EXCUSE ME SIR

[katethetank]

I love reading post season 4 steddie fics where it’s never said how Eddie managed to survive other than fanfiction magic. It’s exactly the level of delusion I aspire to

[katethetank]

three things

for @switcheddieweek prompt 'spit' (a little) and 'non-verbal negotiation' (mostly this one tbh)

rated e | 5395 words | also on ao3 | cw: under-negotiated kink | tags: switch eddie, switch steve, friends with benefits, bisexual steve, bondage, banter, frottage, spit kink, anal fingering, anal sex, dirty talk, choking, not actually unrequited feelings, open ending but we can play clue together

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

Steve’s jittery and it’s making Eddie fucking jumpy. From the second he walked in the door, Steve’s been bustling around, moving things he doesn’t need to, taking sips of Eddie’s drink, knocking into things. Eddie’s ready to tie him to a chair and—

Well, that’s an idea.

Just as he considers acting on it, Steve groans.

“Do you think I’m too high strung?” He asks as he paces the floor anxiously.

“In this moment or in general?” Eddie has to tread carefully here. Whatever’s got Steve on edge like this needs to be taken seriously. One wrong word and Steve will shut down and it’ll be a long fucking night of trying to pull him back in.

“Like, always? Or most of the time.” Steve stops pacing, sets his gaze on Eddie where he’s sitting comfortably at the kitchen table. “Do you think I think too much about little things?”

Eddie’s brow furrows. Where the hell is this even coming from? Steve’s not usually high strung. He gets anxious sometimes, like when he knows they have to do their annual check in with the government doctors, but that’s not unreasonable. If he knows one of the kids is flying, he gets a bit nervous, but Eddie just keeps him distracted as best he can and it passes.

“Suzie mentioned that sometimes I get stuck on small problems and they ruin my day,” he continues. “Do you think that’s true?”

Suzie is going to school to be a therapist and likes to psychoanalyze her friends. It’s equal parts fascinating and annoying, especially when she talks to Steve. He takes everything she says seriously, even though she isn’t licensed yet and probably shouldn’t be giving her professional opinion to him anyway.

“I think that you do what every normal human does sometimes and catastrophize a little when you worry. It’s probably the trauma,” Eddie shrugs and stands, moving close to him, but leaving him space to get away if he needs to. He’s acting a bit like a cornered animal right now. The last thing Eddie needs to do is actually corner him. “If you think it’s harming you, maybe you could talk to a licensed therapist.”

“Suzie’s as good as licensed.” Steve folds his arms across his chest. “And she said I rely too much on you.”

“Did she?” Eddie scoffs. Steve doesn’t. Steve doesn’t rely on fucking anyone. He’d be better off if he did rely on someone more. “What made her come to that conclusion?”

“Apparently I talk about you too much. She thinks you’re my only friend.” Steve sighs. “Now that I say it out loud it does sound wrong. I have friends.”

“No shit.” Eddie grins, leans in until he can smell the cologne Steve always wears to work. “I’m just your best friend.”

“Other than Robin.”

“Other than Robin,” Eddie agrees. He straightens his back and nods his head back towards the chair he was sitting in before. “You wanna sit while I heat up leftovers?”

“Oh, not sure I can stay.” Steve suddenly won’t meet his eyes. “I uh, I have a date.”

Eddie ignores the way his heart clenches in his chest, painfully tightening. Steve’s still antsy, he can tell. He’s gonna go to his apartment and pace and worry until he has to pretend to be fine for his date. And the date won’t realize he’s faking it, that he’s pretending to be fine when he’s not. Eddie can’t let that happen.

“You should cancel.”

Steve gives him a look, one that says he knows what Eddie’s doing and he isn’t gonna fall for it. He has before, though. He probably will this time.

“She’s nice. I’m not gonna cancel just for us to fuck around. What about that guy you saw last month?” Steve snaps his fingers while he tries to remember the quite frankly unremarkable guy Eddie sucked off at a club. “Jeremy? Joey? James?”

“Isaac.”

“I was close!” Steve claps.

“Alphabetically, sure,” Eddie groans. “He was boring. Didn’t even fuck my face when I told him to. He’d probably run screaming if I showed him my plug.”

“I almost ran screaming when you showed me that thing,” Steve laughs. “I’m gonna head out. You find someone more interesting than Isaac.”

Eddie could beg. He’s done it before.

He could go along with it and wait for Steve to inevitably show back up at his place later when he didn’t get what he wanted from whoever this woman is. He’s done that before, too.

He could turn on the waterworks and guilt him into staying. That’s not something he’s tried before. Bound to work, though.

Before he can muster up the fake tears, Steve is walking around him and staring at the chair.

He looks back at Eddie and squints, then back at the chair.

Eddie waits because that’s all he can do. Steve’s either gonna leave and go on his date or he’s gonna stay and they’ll fall into their comforting pattern of being the only people who understand what the other needs.

Steve walks to the phone on the wall, grabs a piece of paper from his wallet, and angrily dials.

“Julie! Hey!” Eddie rolls his eyes, mouths Julie and makes kissy lips while Steve’s back is to him. “Sorry this is so last minute, but they need me to close tonight. Maybe next week?”

Eddie watches as Steve’s shoulders slowly relax. Julie’s probably letting him off the hook, thinking he’s such a hard worker for staying when asked. Maybe she thinks he’ll be up for a promotion, making the big bucks soon.

Eddie knows that Steve’s gonna fuck him up tonight.

He doesn’t hear the rest of the conversation, only focusing back in when the phone drops back on the hook and Steve laughs.

“You should get the ropes.”

It’s not a suggestion as much as a demand, and Eddie doesn’t hesitate to do it. Steve doesn’t like getting tied up, not even if Eddie’s the one doing it, but he loves tying intricate knots around Eddie’s wrists and ankles, sometimes his chest and neck if they have time. It helps ground him, keeps his mind from wandering into anxious territory.

It’s perfect for tonight.

Eddie keeps his ropes in his closet, hung up so they don’t get tangled together. He grabs all of them, in too much of a rush to make a decision about which ones to use.

Steve’s pulled the chair to the center of the room and he’s wringing his hands together like he needs something in them. Robin mentioned getting him a keychain that doubled as a silent clicker so it would keep his hands busy when he needed it, but Steve turned it down. Maybe Eddie can convince him later.

After.

Eddie sits, holds the ropes in his lap, and waits.

Steve circles him like a predator circles their prey before they attack. He’s hot and his heart is racing, and he hopes that he can be forgiven for being selfish enough to get Steve to stay.

He kneels in front of Eddie, grabs his face in his hands, and grins.

“You wanted this.”

It’s true. But he never said it explicitly. Steve just knows. It’s why they work so well.

“I wanted you.”

It’s a bit too honest for them, but Steve doesn’t stop to take Eddie’s words in. He’s up and grabbing the rope from his hands, shoving his shoulder back until he’s almost worried it’ll bruise. Eddie’s pale and Steve’s rough and as much as he likes the reminders of what they do, he’s going to visit Wayne this weekend and doesn’t wanna risk him seeing it.

“Hey. Easy,” Eddie says with just enough bite to make Steve pause. “No bruises.”

Steve nods, apologizes, but continues his work. Eddie lets him.

He closes his eyes and breathes.

There’s something peaceful about letting Steve tie him up, making him helpless in the middle of his own apartment. He knows he’s safe, they’re both safe. He doesn’t have to feel the emptiness inside that he feels when Steve’s not with him.

He feels full, even without the plug.

“Eddie. Look at me.”

Eddie does. His eyes feel heavy for a moment and then he sees how dark Steve’s eyes are, how blown his pupils have gotten. How long has Steve been working on him? Seconds? Minutes? Hours?

“Too tight?” Steve asks, for what must not be the first time. Eddie shakes his head. “Okay. I’m gonna grab the plug.”

Eddie’s not sure why, but he knows it’ll come to him eventually. He nods and waits. Steve’s only gone for a moment, familiar enough with where Eddie keeps everything to be quick.

He sets the lube and plug on the table, then turns to Eddie.

Eddie’s a bit in love with him, he has to admit. It’s pretty terrible to be in love with your best friend, especially when it’s a guy who has made it pretty clear he’s never gonna be ready for a relationship with any man, let alone Eddie.

But he drops everything to do this with him, and he comes here right after work even when he’s exhausted, even if it’s just for a few minutes, even though it’s two miles out of his way. He sleeps in Eddie’s bed when they get too high for him to get back to his place, curled up into his side or around his back. He uses Eddie’s soap in the shower and wears Eddie’s shirt when he forgets to bring the clothes he keeps here home to wash them. He leaves notes around the apartment for him to take his meds and to call Dustin and take out the trash. He does everything with love and it’s hard for Eddie to separate it sometimes.

Steve straddles his lap and waits.

It’s Eddie’s turn now. Focus.

“Gonna be good and listen to me?” Eddie asks him, voice rough.

Steve shivers in his lap. “Yeah. Tell me.”

Eddie uses all his strength to sit up a bit straighter, appear bigger. Steve loves when he’s tied up and bossing him around. He loves being told what to do while Eddie’s like this.

“You gonna stay dressed?” Eddie asks, not caring much either way. Might be hard to get the plug in, but they don’t have to do anything with it if Steve changed his mind.

“For now.”

“Then touch yourself.”

Eddie watches as Steve runs his hands down his chest, skims the edge of his shirt, slides them underneath. He wants him to strip it off, wants to see the way his nipples harden under his own touch, the way his chest hair darkens as sweat beads on his skin the more worked up he gets. He doesn’t make any noise when he pinches his own nipple, just lets out the breath he must’ve been holding for a while.

“Now the other one.”

Steve listens, stays quiet and obedient, just the way Eddie likes him.

“Feel good?” Eddie asks, but he already knows it does. Steve’s nipples are sensitive. He loves having Eddie’s teeth on them, tugging and sucking them into his mouth.

“Yeah, but I want more.”

“Greedy, but fine.” Eddie glances behind him, sees the bottle of lube. “You planning on using that or no?”

Steve follows his gaze, hands never leaving his chest. “The lube or the plug?”

“Either. Both.”

Steve shivers. “Maybe. Rather you do it later.”

Eddie’s not opposed. He likes watching Steve, but if he gets to have his hands on him later, have his plug in him, then he can wait.

“You gonna get yourself off like this then?” Eddie thinks he might be able to if they play their cards right. He’s never come just from playing with his nipples, but it doesn’t seem impossible. He’s riled up right now. On edge in every way. It might be time to try it out.

“Don’t think I can,” Steve admits, pouting his bottom lip out. It should look ridiculous, but it makes heat coil in Eddie’s stomach. He wants to bite it, suck it into his mouth and taste the spit pooling on his tongue. He wants to make him bleed so he can taste that too, find out if it’s as sweet as the rest of him. “Not without a hand on me.”

“I think you can.” Eddie laughs when Steve groans at him. “C’mon. I’ve seen you do harder things. Find a way.”

“Don’t have to be mean. I canceled a date for you,” Steve bites out, pinching his nipples again and scooting forward in Eddie’s lap. His dick is hard in his jeans, but he’s not gonna find what he needs with the way Eddie’s chest and stomach are pulled back with the ropes. Not unless he gets real close. “I’m not doing it all by myself.”

“You tied me up,” Eddie snorts. “I assumed that meant you were gonna do it yourself.”

Eddie’s own dick is straining in his jeans. It’s getting a bit uncomfortable, but he knows Steve will be pissed if he asks him to unbutton his pants. He’s supposed to sit here and take it, and Steve will sit there and do what he says. That’s how this works.

“Sit still then.” Eddie hasn’t moved, but he wants to now that Steve’s made the demand. He scoots even further up, so his dick is rubbing against Eddie’s stomach. It’d feel better if he took his pants off, but he’s stubborn. “I’m gonna get off like this.”

He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself as much as he’s trying to convince Eddie.

“I’ll wait.” Eddie smirks when Steve narrows his eyes at him. “Go ahead. I’ve got all night.”

His legs are a little numb from being tied and having Steve’s weight on them like this. The dining room chair isn’t exactly comfortable to begin with. He’s a little shocked it’s holding both their weight like this.

Steve ruts forward once, twice, groans before he drops his head to Eddie’s shoulder. He isn’t gonna get as much friction as he wants like this, but he can get the job done.

“That’s it. You just need something to rub your dick on, huh? Anything would work,” Eddie teases, voice low. “So desperate.”

He tries to sound annoyed or uninterested, but he knows he sounds a bit awed. Steve’s hips move faster as he talks, the room gets hotter, and the air gets thicker. Eddie gets impossibly harder in his jeans. If it’s possible to break a zipper, he may do it any minute.

Steve whimpers as he bites down on Eddie’s shoulder. He’s a bit sweaty from the day, and he knows his shirt can’t smell or taste good. Steve doesn’t seem bothered.

“Can’t believe you tied me up just to hump me like a dog,” Eddie grins around the words. “You know there’s better ways to do this.”

Steve pauses in his movements, but doesn’t sit up or move his face away from Eddie’s neck. It’s all Eddie needs to know that he can keep going like this.

“So stubborn. I should make you use the wall next time.” Steve whimpers and ruts forward. “You’d love it. I could sit here and watch. Probably hurt after a while, huh?”

Steve nods, but doesn’t say anything. Eddie smiles to himself.

“You like when it hurts though. That’s why you can’t stop what you’re doing now.”

“Mhm. Like it when you hurt me, though.”

Eddie bites his lip. God, he does love hurting Steve. He’s so good at being hurt. Takes it so good and then gives it right back to Eddie as if he isn’t covered in bruises and scars left by Eddie’s teeth and fingers.

“I like it too,” Eddie allows himself to say. It’s important to keep the boundaries there, but sometimes he can be vulnerable. If Steve starts it, he can follow. “You gonna let me touch you?”

“Maybe in a minute.”

“You’re only hurting yourself, baby.” Eddie rolls his shoulders, breath hitching at the way it tugs the ropes tighter around his wrists for a moment. Baby is allowed. Steve said it first months ago, one of the first times they did this, and it stuck. It’s fine, especially when it’s slightly mocking like this. “I could make it feel so good. You know I take care of you.”

Steve tenses, almost like he’s going to come, then groans and pulls his head back, looking at Eddie with wide eyes.

Eddie looks back at him, calculating, trying to get a read on what’s going on in his head.

He’s still unsure what truly caused his panic earlier, other than Suzie’s words. Something had to, though. He’s still sifting through it, not quite over the tension.

And then it hits him.

His date.

Steve hasn’t had a real date in months. He’s definitely done questionable things in bar bathrooms, but he hasn’t taken a girl out since…

Since they started this.

Eddie rushes to think back to what Suzie told him, thinks about things Steve probably left out of his explanation. How quick he was to cancel the date once he knew what was on offer.

Steve struggles with being the one to call the shots. Not just in bed, but always. He always asks others to choose what they do, and usually tries to leave another adult in charge as often as he can.

Other than life or death situations, Steve Harrington likes to follow someone else’s lead.

This thing they have, whatever it may be, it works. Eddie calls the shots a lot, but there’s still times when Steve’s in charge. Like now, when Eddie’s tied up, completely at his mercy. He may be encouraging Steve to do things, but he’s not the one making the decisions, not really.

It’s Steve’s safe place to call the shots. Eddie’s his safe space. Not this girl he was going to take to dinner or a movie or back to his place.

“Hey.” Eddie wants his hands free, but it’s selfish. His mind is reeling as he thinks of a way to do this without making Steve lose the control he has. “You’re gonna do something for me.”

It’s another demand, but he knows Steve will listen.

“What?” Steve asks, flushed and struggling not to find any more friction.

“Tell me three things you want me to do.”

Steve’s shaking and Eddie doesn’t know if it’s from being so close to the edge or from nerves or from being overwhelmed with all of it at once. He’s never looked so unsure when they’re doing this, not even the first time when they hadn’t figured out how to communicate yet.

“Like…now?”

“I want you to answer now, but it can be stuff you want me to do later.”

Everything shifts again; A whine marks the moment that Steve gives in.

“Can you-”

“No.” Eddie leans in, gets close enough that he can feel Steve’s breath against his own lips. “Don’t ask me. Tell me.”

Steve lets out a shaky breath, closes his eyes, and relaxes his shoulders. Eddie watches, waits patiently. His legs are starting to get tingly, almost painfully so. The feeling comes and goes as Steve shifts in his lap, moving weight from one leg to the other and then settling on both.

“Open me up.” Steve says so quietly Eddie almost asks him to repeat it. “I want four fingers.”

“Four? You sure?” Eddie’s never given him four. Steve’s never given himself four as far as he knows.

“Yeah. I can take it.”

“Okay. That’s one,” Eddie wants to kiss him, but he won’t. He can’t. Even if he weren’t tied up, he wouldn’t. “Another one.”

“I want you to fuck me.” Steve pauses like he’s going to say more. Eddie waits again, less patiently now that he knows what the next hour might entail. “In your bed.”

The silence that follows his request is louder than their breaths, louder than the thud, thud, thud of their hearts beating in their chests.

They don’t do that. They do a lot of shit, but they don’t do that. They fuck on the couch, the chair, against the wall, the shower, the floor. Never the bed. Not Eddie’s, not Steve’s.

It’s like kissing, in a way: silently forbidden.

Steve tenses when Eddie doesn’t respond. He starts to scoot back to get up, but Eddie lets out a noise close to a whine. He wants to move his hands, grip Steve’s hips so hard that there’s no way he doesn’t have bruises in the shape of his fingertips in the morning.

“What’s the third thing?” Eddie asks, making sure he knows he needs to stay right where he is.

Steve doesn’t say it. He’s pushing Eddie, seeing how far Eddie will push back. He could get up right now, go to Eddie’s bed, and they’ll forget all about the third thing. Eddie will let it be left in this room, never to be mentioned again.

“I’ll tell you later.”

He should insist on it now, but he won’t. Steve’s taking the reins now.

“Untie me.”

Mostly.

Steve works quickly, letting the ropes fall to the floor as Eddie slowly moves his limbs to get feeling back. He shivers when Steve’s fingers brush against his wrist, pulse speeding up under his careful touch.

“Anything hurt?” Steve asks, checking in the way Eddie showed him to the first time. Eddie taught him a lot of things. “Need anything?”

“No, baby, I’m good,” Eddie smiles, a real one, a soft one. Something almost too gentle for what they’re doing. “Let’s get in bed.”

He almost forgets to grab the lube and plug on the table behind him, but remembers when he watches Steve adjust himself in his pants and awkwardly half-waddle out of the room. He wants to use them when they’re done, after Eddie’s fucked him until he can’t talk.

Steve’s finally undressing, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor. It feels like they belong there, like they could find a home in Eddie’s laundry basket, and then in his closet. Like pieces of Steve could stay.

Steve looks good in his bed, on his back, parting his legs. His hand cups his balls, lifts them as if he’s showing off exactly where he wants Eddie to go. Eddie’s dick leaks at the thought of being inside him.

He could probably lick him open and shove inside him with no argument, even though it would be uncomfortable and probably a little too painful even for Steve’s taste. He likes feeling the pinch of too much, the drag of skin that should be wetter. Maybe next time.

Eddie’s not gonna be mean like that, but he is gonna be quick. He’s not patient enough to take his time the way Steve may have thought he would.

He spits on Steve’s dick as he settles between his legs.

“Keep touching yourself. Don’t come,” he orders, pouring lube onto his fingers. “If you come, we stop.”

Steve whimpers and nods, accepts the challenge for what it is. His hand moves slow, languid in finding the perfect level of pleasure to keep him on the edge but not sending him over.

Eddie starts with two fingers, a happy medium between the pain Steve likes and the pain Eddie wants to try someday. It’s still enough to have Steve tighten around him, letting out a noise he’s never made before.

Eddie pauses and raises a brow up at him. Steve relaxes. Eddie continues.

He’s not gentle, but he could be a lot rougher. He has one purpose: open Steve up. He doesn’t even try to find his prostate until he’s ready to add the fourth finger that Steve wanted so bad.

Steve’s barely moving his hand anymore, just squeezing the base of his cock like it’s the only thing keeping him on earth. He’s burning up inside and out, sweat building on his thighs, darkening the hairs just enough to be noticeable.

As soon as Eddie pushes the fourth finger into him, Steve goes still and silent. Any sign of the anxious mess of a person who was pacing his kitchen floor earlier is long gone.

Eddie only gives him a second before he moves, pulls his fingers out and pushes them back in. It’s tight, really tight.

“Gotta relax or I can’t fuck you like you wanted,” Eddie reminds him. He looks down at where he’s stretching Steve, watches his hole flutter around his fingers as he desperately tries to relax. “Bet I could get my whole hand in if I used more lube.”

Eddie’s actually not sure he could with how tight Steve is now with just four, but Steve pants, nods like he agrees. Maybe they can try that, too.

Now that the bed is an option, Eddie could try a lot of things. So could Steve. Eddie thinks feeling his entire hand inside him might be enough to send him over the edge, dick untouched.

Steve finally relaxes enough around him so he can move and there has to be a direct connection between his fingertips and his own dick with how it jumps when he stretches his fingers. He’s sweating now, too, using his free hand to brush the hair off his shoulder for a moment.

“Your hand’s so big,” Steve whines, lifting his legs back further with what little strength he has left. ”So much.”

Eddie agrees. He’s watching how much he’s stretching him out and thinks it should be impossible.

He feels lost right now, shocked into watching what he’s doing rather than doing what the logical next step is: getting his dick inside Steve. It’s mesmerizing.

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is unsure. “Look at me.”

Eddie’s eyes snap up to his face, unblinking.

“You need me to tell you what I want?” Steve asks, letting his legs fall to the bed. The new angle shifts his fingers so they brush against Steve’s prostate. He bites back a moan, but so does Eddie. “Let me.”

Eddie nods. He can’t fucking think for himself right now. Some switch flipped when he saw the way Steve took him, and he’s not sure he can switch it back by himself.

“Touch yourself. Get yourself wet.”

He does it. How can he not when Steve is taking deep breaths to keep himself calm? How can he not when he’d do anything that Steve asks of him?

He misses Steve around his fingers, misses the heat of it, the warmth that ran from his hand to his chest. The direct link is gone, even if just for a moment.

Eddie spits on his hand, makes the glide of his hand easier. He knows not to come, but he knows he could. Steve’s eyes are on him, watching and assessing, figuring out what he’ll do next.

Steve isn’t the type to drag this on. He doesn’t like delaying his own pleasure. He’ll make Eddie come inside him the way they both want, he knows that.

But he still worries this will be the time he can’t hold back, that Steve will watch him until he comes and then the night will be done.

“Just the tip.” Steve’s words make Eddie whine. It’s not enough, but it might be too much. “Take it slow.”

Eddie leans down, lines himself up. The moment he’s inside Steve, he groans and his brain resets, focuses.

He waits for Steve to say he can give him more. He wants to give him more, he needs-

“More.” Steve is barely holding it together at this point, Eddie can tell from the way his voice shakes and his hand grips Eddie’s shoulder like his life depends on it. “Slow.”

Eddie goes slow. One inch further, one degree warmer.

Another inch and Steve’s grip is harder, bringing him back to earth.

He shares a look with Steve, sending the message that he’s good, he wants to take things from here. Steve will let him.

“You’re so good,” Eddie groans against his mouth as he kisses him, pushes in until he feels tight heat surrounding him completely. “Always so good for me.”

Steve tightens around him, legs wrapping around Eddie’s back and tugging him closer. It feels too much like something he can hold onto, something way more than what it’s supposed to be. He doesn’t comment on it. He can’t.

Steve tilts his head back, lids heavy as he begs Eddie for something only Eddie can give him.

He wraps a hand around Steve’s throat, squeezes once, and fucks into him hard.

Steve’s hand moves to Eddie’s wrist, his silent permission to keep going, understanding of what he has to do for this to keep going.

They’ve never properly talked about this. It’s stupid and Eddie knows he needs to be careful.

He is. He’s always careful with Steve.

He only does it twice more, but it’s enough to have Steve pushing back against him, asking for more. Eddie removes his hand, grazes it down his chest, grips at his chest hair and tugs.

Steve yelps and Eddie smirks. “Thought you liked when I was mean,” he says to be extra mean. “You beg me to be rough all the time.”

“Be rough. But slow.”

Eddie is too close to go slow, but he thinks Steve’s in the same boat. He can probably get away with a few minutes of being rough before he comes.

“Wanna taste you,” Steve says, and it sounds like it might be the third thing he wanted. Eddie’s not sure what he means, though. They don’t kiss so it can’t be that. “Please, let me taste you.”

Eddie holds his chin, considers his next move as he fucks into him once, twice, grinds into him until they’re both breathless. He digs his fingers in, keeps Steve’s jaw open.

He leans in close enough to feel Steve’s breath in his own mouth.

“You wanna taste me?” He whispers.

“Yes.”

Eddie licks Steve’s bottom lip, so quick he could almost convince himself it didn’t actually happen.

Then he spits. Right in Steve’s mouth, watches it pool on his tongue.

Steve swallows it without being told to, closes his eyes and groans. He looks blissed out, cheeks red and forehead shining with sweat. He’s never been more beautiful, never made Eddie want to devour him quite like this.

It’s hard to keep things slow after that, but god, he tries. He would do anything for Steve, but he’s only human. He can’t be this close for much longer.

Steve’s eyes open and he doesn’t have to say anything for Eddie to know he’s too close to keep going.

They come seconds apart, so close Eddie’s not even sure who got there first.

Eddie fucks into him until he physically can’t anymore, wincing when it’s too much for his softening dick. He always pushes too much.

Steve lets out a laugh as Eddie falls to the side, grunting when his cheek smacks against Steve’s arm. He sighs and rests his lips against the skin there, scared to bring attention to it, but not wanting to put space between them yet.

It’s quiet for a while, their breathing evening out slowly as they come down. He still doesn’t move, but his brain’s starting to catch up and he’s left wondering something. He probably shouldn’t ask.

“What’s the third thing you want me to do?” Eddie asks anyway.

Steve is still, and Eddie thinks he hears his breath hitch.

His other hand comes up, resting gently on Eddie’s head. It’s a heavy weight on him, making him hotter when he’s already overheated. A comfort when he’s been giving and taking so much.

“Love me.”

Eddie should be more surprised to hear it maybe. He doesn’t even have a reaction at first, just soaks in the words.

Loving Steve Harrington has been easy so far, even though it’s been in silence. Understanding who he is, what he likes, what makes him tick, all of it has been a gift.

Even when he overthinks things, even when he’s high strung.

But loving Steve Harrington loudly, in the way he needs, the way he craves, might be even easier.

So he lets his lips pucker, kisses Steve’s arm.

“Is that all?” He asks, looking up at Steve with a smile.

[katethetank]

Conversations that happened in the back of Hopper’s truck:

Eddie, a seven year old: Did you know you can eat crayons?

Eddie: They’re not toxic. That means you won’t die.

Steve, a six year old: I don’t want to eat crayon.

Eddie:

Eddie: You should do it anyways

[katethetank]

Walking home with Eddie at night, you’ve both got the sillies and suddenly a talkative kitty crosses your path. As you coo and awe over your new friend, eddie crouches down, leans his head in, and listens intently to the meows.

“Well hello! Hmmm? What’s that? Oh yes, you can have it.” As he dutifully hands the cat his wallet.

[katethetank]

[katethetank]

CPR

written for the @steddiemicrofic prompt: “hot, 315 words” | rating: g | no cw | tags: feelings confession, pining, former lifeguard steve, current drama queen eddie

The sun beating down on them as they lounge by the pool and the lunch they had ten minutes ago both make Eddie sleepy. With ten minutes left until Steve deems it safe to go in the pool, he lets himself doze off. 

That’s why, when Steve groans and says, “I’m too hot!”, Eddie sluggishly blurts out– “Fuck, yeah, you are.”

Immediately, he shoots up in his lounge chair. Steve is staring at him, eyebrows raised and mouth parted. His eyes are probably wide behind his sunglasses. 

“Because of the sun! That’s what I meant! You’re clearly hot, you’re all flushed and sweaty! Not– not that I was checking you out. No, sir! Um–”  He trails off, knowing he’s making things worse. Instead, he clumsily scrambles to his feet. “I’m– I’m gonna go.” 

When Steve only gapes at him, Eddie starts to back away. 

“Thank you for the food, kind sir!” He jokes, attempting a silly curtsy but miscalculating terribly, stumbling backwards into the pool. 

The cold water feels great against his warm skin, both from the sun and the embarrassment. He wishes he could stay underwater without facing Steve but he can’t, so he begrudgingly resurfaces, spluttering and pushing his hair back.

Steve peers down at him, sunglasses on top of his head.  “Need a hand?”

“No,” Eddie groans, “just leave me here to drown.”

Steve’s lips stretch into a smirk. “I’d prefer if the first time we kiss isn’t because I’m giving you CPR, so come here.”

When Eddie doesn’t– too busy wondering if he drowned and died– Steve sighs, gracefully lowering himself into the pool. When he reaches Eddie, he cups his face and wordlessly pulls him in for a kiss.

And as Eddie goes breathless and his heart skips a beat, his last coherent thought is that he’s lucky Steve used to be a lifeguard. He might need CPR after all.

[katethetank]

Djo Paris Shenanigans