written for ‘micro' | wc: 555 | rated: t | cw: no archive warnings apply | tags: pre-relationship, post-s4, eddie's scars, pining, soft boys being soft
@steddiemicrofic
Everybody thought he was okay. The kids, his uncle.
He’d been out of the hospital for months now, and most of the aches had faded—though not disappeared—from the physical therapy.
His scars were pink and silvery, and even the ones that had totally fucked a few of his tattoos he’d come to terms with. Had overpowered the voices in his head to instead embody them as metal and sick as the originals.
Except...except one.
One he couldn’t help but stare at in the mirror. That he couldn’t hide away on the shitty days. One that people’s eyes couldn’t help but steal glances of.
“Eddie?”
He startled, smacking his knee into the cabinet as he turned to find Steve hovering in the open doorway. Because Eddie was an idiot who didn’t remember to close doors all the way.
With a furrowed brow, Steve scanned the bathroom. “What are you doing?”
Well, shit. Eddie’d gotten so caught up in his own misery, he’d completely left Steve waiting on him in the living room.
“Sorry. Got distracted.” Eddie cleared his throat, trying to slip past.
But Steve, hands planted on the doorframe, didn’t move.
Eddie dug his nails into his palm. “Let’s go watch the movie, yeah?”
Steve refused, scowling now. “No, seriously. If something’s wrong, I—somebody needs to know before you keel over on the drive home.”
Shame crept up Eddie throat.
Steve had carried Eddie out of that hellhole, and held the pieces of him together with his bare hands. The little Eddie remembered was punctuated with Steve’s voice, over and over, Don’t you dare fucking die, Munson.
“It’s so stupid...”Eddie touched the corner of his mouth, at the textured patch of skin.”I already had fucking dimples, and now it’s three times worse. On only one side of my face.”
Steve shifted in the doorway, quiet for a moment.
“It’s not the worst thing ever,” he offered. “Small, really. Tiny. Minuscule. Micro.”
“Micro?”
“It means small.’
Steve only thought he was helping, ever the baby-sitter, soothing where his charges need him. With the best of intentions, but Eddie had never been one to believe a sugar-coated lie told right to his face.
“It’s not, though.”
The thing existed, always. Pulled at his mouth when he spoke, when he tried to smile in the way he used to.
And, like, Steve didn’t get it. Even that damn scar around his throat had healed better than most of Eddie’s, visible only in specific lighting. And he was...Steve Harrington. A few scars weren’t exactly tanking his chances in the dating pool.
“You’re not the same.”
Eddie froze. Stared at Steve, unsure whether to be more insulted or shocked.
“Your body moves in ways it didn’t before. To keep from hurting, even though it still hurts. They’re always there, and it’s like everyone can always see them.” Steve’s hand dropped to his throat, then his sides. “They’ll never go away.”
Fuck.
He was always wrong about Steve. Who saw more of Eddie than he thought possible.
“Steve—”
And then Steve was in the cramped space of the bathroom, his face so close to Eddie’s before his lips pressed to the marred skin at the corner of his mouth.
Gentle. Soft, and careful.
Eddie couldn’t breathe.
“You didn’t fucking die, Munson,” Steve said, pulling away. “And that’s all I care about.”
written for ‘years' | wc: 444 | rated: m | cw: no archive warnings apply | tags: established relationship, post-canon, eddie lives damn you, mention of sexual content, age difference (but like, the idea of it)
@steddiemicrofic
“Holy shit.”
Steve frowned at the license in his hand, unable to look away. He’d just wanted to see Eddie’s new picture, but all he could stare at now was the tiny little date.
1965.
Eddie whipped around, curls flying. “What? What happened?”
“You’re older than me.”
“...Yeah?” Eddie raised a brow, plucking his license from Steve’s fingers. “Did you forget?”
And, well...yeah, Steve kinda had. Eddie had been right in the trenches with them, before he and Steve decided to try out the whole “relationship” thing instead of pretending it was just sex. And before that…
“You were in school with the kids, and you graduated with Robin…” Steve trailed off, because Eddie hadn’t said anything and when Steve looked at him, he regretted every word out of his mouth.
Eddie had his hair in front of his face, voice small as he said, “Okay, you don’t have to rub it in.”
“No! No, I wasn’t—Eddie,” He’d started to pull away, but Steve reached for him, hoping he’d let Steve close, to wrap his arms around his waist and put his chin on Eddie’s shoulder.
And Eddie did, shifting back into Steve’s chest.
“It’s been years since all that shit, right? You’re so much better than all of it.” Steve nuzzled into Eddie’s hair, tightness in his chest loosening when Eddie hummed soft. “And fuck it I care if you’re a little older, you’ve got everything I want. Man of my dreams, y’know?”
Eddie huffed, raising an arm to thread fingers through Steve’s hair. Stayed a moment, dragging his nails along Steve’s scalp until Eddie spoke.
“You got a little thing for older men, Stevie?”
He was only teasing, Steve knew, but he still blushed hard. Eddie was good at that.
“No, I—It’s not like you’re ten years older than me, Eds.”
“Still older,” he sang.
Steve tightened his hold around Eddie, always eager to push back. Too eager to know when he maybe shouldn’t.
“What, you want me to say that I used to stare and fawn over you?”
Eddie went quiet, peering over his shoulder as a teasing expression turned to one more curious. A bit too knowing.
“Did you?”
Steve swallowed. “I-I didn’t know why.”
Not until after years of horror and ego-breaking trauma to get through his thick skull.
“What’d you want, baby?” Eddie tightened his grip on Steve’s hair until his lashes fluttered, voice gone low, sultry. “To meet up in a classroom after-hours, and let the older boy teach you the finer points of sucking cock?”
Steve could hardly breathe; all the blood had gone to his dick. But he found some way to answer.
written for ‘three' | wc: 333 | rated: e | cw: no archive warnings apply | tags: established relationship, eddie's dramatic and horny, smut
@steddiemicrofic
Holy fuck, he’s going to die.
He. Was. Going. To. Die.
And his obituary would read: Eddie Munson, after surviving a demonic bat chomping fest, ultimately perished due to a stupidly hot guy absolutely ruining him in bed.
Stupidly hot Steve Harrington, to be precise.
Which was a death-worthy fest in and of itself, but Eddie very much wanted to keep living a life where he kissed Steve Harrington right on those plush, pink lips and where Steve touched him with his large, rough hands.
In bed, with the warmth of his body tucked up against Eddie’s back. In the kitchen, fingers pressed into his hips and expert tongue on his throat. Or that one time in the backseat of Steve’s Beemer…
But, holy shit, he simply didn’t know if he could survive this.
How Steve’s amber-whiskey eyes stared up at him through his lashes, where he perched at the end of the mattress between Eddie’s splayed legs. His unfairly perfect hair mussed with sweat and Eddie dragging his hands through it all night, skin pink and flushed under his chest hair.
Eddie was slickest somewhere else, where Steve had four of his thick fingers thrusting in and out of his hole—loose and too sensitive, but left Eddie hard and dripping against his thigh nonetheless.
He twisted his hands into Steve’s obnoxious plaid sheets, caught between rocking his hips against Steve’s thrusts and lying back to just fucking take it.
“Steve, I—”
“You’re so close, I know you are,” Steve crooned, voice rough as he curled his fingers deep, rubbing without mercy at the bundle of nerves inside until the urge crested through Eddie, nearly there but out of reach.
But Steve—who never gave up on anything regarding Eddie, the blessed bastard—kept going. Pressed his fingers in and held Eddie’s wild leg still with his hand, such an easily-done gesture that it pushed Eddie over the edge with an echoing cry.
Steve grinned, the cat with the cream, and said, “That’s three, baby.”
Tags: Fantasy AU, sun-coded!Steve Harrington, moon-coded!Eddie Munson, War, Minor Violence, Enemies to Lovers, Light Dom/sub, Hurt/Comfort, Comfort Sex, Swordfighting, falling in love with the enemy, Protective Steve Harrington, Temporary Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending
Summary:
Raised to be the warrior that will bring his homeland to victory, Steve Harrington razes any enemy he faces, leaving nothing except blood and ash. Burning bright as the sun, there is nothing that can stop him.
Until Eddie Munson.
Who faced the full force of what Steve could bring to bear, and survived. Who, after taken prisoner, tempts Steve with the answers he's wanted his entire life: of his origins, of his powers, and who exactly he is supposed to be—if not a living weapon.
OR, the fantasy enemies to lovers fic where Steve is the sun and Eddie is the moon
Canon hangster but they're exes, yknow the drill. But they were not just boyfriends — they were going to get married.
But something happened and they broke apart, and though it wasn't an amicable ending, there was still a lot of hurt there
So when they get to NAS, they're both just focusing on the job. It hurts to be close but both assume the other thinks this is the best option.
(What Bradley doesnt know is Jake has his ring on his tags, and hides it between them during the beach game)
(What Jake doesn't know is that Bradley broke up with him when he had a health scare that could've ended his career and didnt want to drag Jake down with him)
Theyre both too nervous to breach the topic till the day of the mission and Jake tries to tell Bradley he still has his ring but they dont end up talking
Then the Dagger Two is hit scene and Jake struggles with his ring, devastated at the thought of losing his fiancé.
Obviously it turns out well enough and then the week that follows the mission is full of a slow reconciliation, with soft touches and lots of talking and spending time reacclimating to their old/new relationship
And then one day Bradley pulls Jake's tags off and gets his ring off the chain and places it back on Jake's finger
written for ‘first' | wc: 336 | rated: t | cw: no archive warnings apply | tags: pre-relationship, eddie has a big ol' crush on steve, feat. corroded coffin
@steddiemicrofic
The sound of a motorcycle engine at a bar was not uncommon. So, excuse Eddie if he didn’t pay attention to every single one while enjoying a pre-set cigarette.
Until, of course, one of his lovely bandmates decided to knock shoulders with him. Repeatedly.
“Your boytoy’s here.”
“Shut up, Gareth. He’s not my anything,” Eddie bit out. Inhaled a deep toke, gaze firmly at his feet.
Maybe the natural sound of a bar weren’t the only reason Eddie refused to look. So what, if he’d invited Steve to one of their gigs—well, him and Robin—and just Steve said yes.
So what, if he didn’t want to give away his horrible, obvious crush by whipping around at any sign of that maroon Beemer.
Gareth scoffed, shoving Eddie again until he rolled his eyes and turned.
Only to find some dude on a bright red Honda CB750, pushing down the kickstand with his heel, bike rocking into place between the tense muscles of his jean-clad thighs.
A bike from Wayne’s era, not Steve’s.
Steve also didn’t wear leather. Much less a black leather jacket with two white stripes around the arms.
“That’s not…”
Eddie couldn’t breathe as the ride removed his helmet, running a hand through mussed hair, which apparently even sweat couldn’t force into common ugliness.
Steve Harrington rode a motorcycle.
Fuck.
“Eddie?”
Jeff nudged at him. But Eddie would not have moved for God himself and miss Steve unzipping his leather jacket, revealing skin flushed pink from his cheeks, down his throat into a white t-shirt.
“Well, that’s a first. Harrington broke him.”
Shut up, Gareth, Eddie wanted to snap. But his mouth, his eyes, his feet, wouldn’t move when Steve sighted them and strode over like his very existence wasn’t making Eddie implode.
“Hey, Eds.”
Eddie had nothing else in his head, not with Steve looking like that.
All he could say was, “Nice bike.”
Smooth, Munson.
Steve fixed him with this look, this smirk, like he knew something all along.
written for ‘mistletoe’ & 'true love's kiss' | wc: 1000 | rated: t | cw: no archive warnings apply | tags: post s4, magic winter powers!steve, getting together, steve wouldn't kiss eddie so the narrative stepped in
@steddieholidaydrabbles @steddiebingo
Steve had a major fucking problem.
He was in love with Eddie Munson.
And he had weird magic winter blood that acted up around the holidays. But the whole “in love” think was particularly screwing with him.
He’d kept it hidden the whole rest of the year just fine. He survived Eddie stripping half his usual layers to make of the pool in the summer, only staring at the dark ink of tattoos on pale skin like…twice.
He survived having to squash together when the entire clan imposed movie night upon him. Having to lay his arm out along the back of the couch to fit four people at once, resisting every urge to card his fingers through the crown of Eddie’s curls in the low light.
Eddie was just…pretty, in his own way. Pretty with sharp edges. Black leather, denim, and chains; all handstitched together with careful detail. Brash and defiant, cloaking the vulnerable parts lying beneath.
Steve let it go too far.
And now, fucking mistletoe kept appearing around Eddie like Christmas herpes, and Steve was the one who basically gave it to him.
It wouldn’t go away. Not really a matter of trying, it couldn’t go away unless Steve avoided Eddie until January or…
Kissed him.
Some kind of cosmic joke, when his little bit of magic decided to rear its head for the whole idea of true love’s kiss bullshit. It wasn’t true love. Just…Steve’s love.
Because Eddie Munson would never love him.
And avoiding him might have worked, with Steve holed up in his room for the rest of the holidays.
He blamed Dustin.
The kid just showed up whenever he wanted, now that the gremlins were all on winter break, determined to find some way of getting Steve into playing their fantasy dragons game. It didn’t matter if Steve didn’t pick him up.
Because if Steve wasn’t the one driving Dustin around—Eddie was.
So, when Dustin burst through Steve’s front door, arms laden with notebooks and tiny action figures, Eddie strolled in right behind him.
And as soon as Steve saw him, cheeks bright pink and wearing a haphazard scarf El made for him, it happened.
Mistletoe, with spiked green leave and vibrant gem berries, bloomed in an instant. One on the banister, on at Eddie’s feet, and one on the damn ceiling right over their heads.
Subtle.
Eddie hadn’t noticed three plants appear out of thin air.
But Steve couldn’t snatch them before Eddie saw them, either.
He furrowed his brows at the one at his feet, and then scoffed when his gaze traveled to the stairs. Eddie plucked it off to examine, and Steve dug his nails into his palms to keep from asking Eddie’s thought about what Steve had—unintentionally—made for him.
“Jesus, this stuff is everywhere lately. Like a little plant stalker.”
Steve offered a dry chuckle. He could work with that.
“The kids must’ve—”
“Oh, that’s probably Steve.”
Dustin fucking…materialized beside him. Eddie, just as startled, clenched his fingers around the mistletoe, slight crushing it.
“What?”
Steve shoved Dustin’s should hard enough to pull a wince, glaring in his best way of silently shouting, What the fuck, Henderson?
Eddie’s eyes flicked between them. “This is that whole—?”
“Yeah,” Steve nodded.
He knew about Steve, already. His magic wasn’t as strong then as right now, but it had been enough to function as a walking ice pack once Eddie was out of the hospital.
That hadn’t helped Steve’s stupid feelings either. Easing Eddie’s aches, the deep pain from his scars.
Dustin flapped his hands at them, vibrating with his excitement to continue blabbing all of Steve’s secrets. “Did he tell you, last years, he made it snow an extra day so we’d get off school!”
Eddie’s gaze slid to Steve.
“You…made it snow.”
Voice soft, dark eyes taking Steve in. Curious, not doubting.
Steve wanted Eddie to know it was true. That, somewhere in him too, was the kind of wonder that emanated from Eddie.
It wasn’t much, so it happened rather quickly.
The room cooled ten degrees—and Steve hardly felt it, but Eddie shivered—his fingers tingling with residual frost spreading up his hand at his side, then into the air until a burst of crystalline snowflakes fluttered down around them.
Steve let it go on for a minute, watching Eddie put out his free hand—because the other was still holding the damn mistletoe—to catch snowflakes on his palm. As his dark hair sparkled slightly silver with each soft crystal that landed on his curls, even a few on his lashes.
Steve’s breath escaped him. Mistletoe bloomed across the ceiling.
And then Eddie…looked at him.
And Steve…
Turned tail to the kitchen.
“Steve?” Eddie called after him, but Steve couldn’t.
He’d messed up this time. Eddie had to have figured out Steve felt something for him, and even if he didn’t kick Steve completely out of his life, he couldn’t go back to how it was. Not if Eddie knew.
Steve stumbled into the kitchen, but their were footsteps just behind. And he turned, hoping—but knowing…
“Hey there, Ice Princess.”
The snow had melted from his hair, but Eddie’s cheeks were still pink, one dimpled from a teasing smile. All bravado.
“Funny,” Steve huffed.
Eddie kept grinning, lifting his hand to present Steve’s mistake to him once again. “This was you, then.”
Steve wiped his hands on his thighs, coming up blank for any viable excuse. “I just…It’s not what you think, alright?”
“What I think?”
Steve sighed, “It’ll stop by January, I swear.”
Eddie dropped the mistletoe to the floor, and in three long strides, backed Steve up against the counter. Their thighs, their chests touched and a flush flared across Steve’s body with Eddie close, so close.
“You don’t know what I think, Steve.”
Steve’s gaze dropped to Eddie’s lips. Eddie pressed the tip of his canine into pink flesh.
Mistletoe rained down from the ceiling, bouncing off their heads and onto the floor.
Feast on This by Goldblooded | Stucky | E | modern au, no powers, fake relationship @ thanksgiving, Winnie Barnes and Sarah Rogers plotting to get their sons together
don't be a baby (remember what you told me) by izzydear | Hangster | M | accidental las vegas wedding, enemies to friends to lovers, dagger squad vacation
blinking red light by cuips_not_cute | Steddie | E | fake relationship, friends to lovers, slooow burn, dom/sub, kink discovery all around, steve and eddie make a bunch of sex tapes to keep eddie out of jail
Of Paper Stars and Pudding Cups by SameShipDifferentFont | Steddie | E | mental institution au, but in the 80s so it's not super great, autistic steve harrington, supportive uncle wayne, hurt/comfort, slow burn, strangers to friends to lovers
The Ballad of Eddie Munson's Battle Vest by hawkins leather | Eddie & Wayne | T | pre-canon, best uncle wayne, love is stored in the biscuit tin that's actually full of sewing supplies
All the Effects of Intoxication by Cinaed | Javert/Valjean | M | javert survives au, slow build, hurt/comfort, case fic while falling in love
moonburn by ToAStranger | Steve/Eddie/Billy | modern supernatural au, soulmate au, vampire eddie, werewolf billy, witch steve, lots of porn
Talk To Me In French by Fluffy_Underneath | Drarry | E | post-war au, auror rep harry, interpreter draco, angst with a happy ending, idiots in love, harry tries to bring the quidditch cup to england and draco speaks french in his ear the whole time
love grows (where my stevie goes) by Atleastwritingisfun | Steddie | flower/tattoo shop au, enemies to friends to lovers, "rival" mall shops, eddie hates valentine's day and steve works to change his mind
The Beautiful and the Damned by Kwills91 | Steddie | E | rock star eddie, actor steve, fake relationship, enemies to lovers
An Ode to Eddie Munson's Stained Mattress by hawkinsleather | Steddie | E | eddie has a crush on steve, pre-relationship, idiots in love
Among the Wildflowers by ParadimeShifts | Steddie | E | post s4, eddie and wayne leave hawkins, steve shows up a year later, slice of life, hurt/comfort, getting together
Nature and Nurture by earlgreytea68 | Johnlock | E | parentlock, domestic life, getting together, slow burn, accidental baby acquisition, the british government clones sherlock
Two Guys, One Bed (festive edition) by hawkinsleather | Steddie | no upside down au, only one bed, holiday fic, coincidentally at the same motel, pwp
i've got to let you know, you're one of my kind by hawkinsleather | Steddie | E | roommate au, friends with benefits, accidental love confession, not actually unrequited love
how greedy my heart by matchingbatbites | Steddie | E | acquaintances to friends to lovers, pre-relationship, slow burn, steve needs to chill out after learning about upside down
Somewhere Only We Know by youaresunlight | Destiel | T | supernatural/hp crossover, hogwarts professors au, 5 times they almost kissed in the greenhouse, and one time they did
when your heart's on fire, you must realize smoke gets in your eyes by hawkinsleather | Steddie | E | no upside down au, party at steve's house, drunken blow jobs
how can something so wrong feel so right? (tell no one about tonight) by hawkinsleather | Steve/Eddie/Tommy | E | voyeurism, shotgunning, threesome, tommy sees eddie and steve, gets horny, then they all fuck about it
Precarious Perch by bendingsignpost | Destiel | E | wingfic, established relationship, angel courtship
King of Wishful Thinking by hawkinsleather | Stommy | E | twenty years later au, ex-friends to lovers, switches bitches
I will see him in the sky, tonight by hawkinsleather | Gareth/Will | T | house party, fluff, first kiss
Knot My Boyfriend! by androgyne | Tina/Jimmy Jr. | T | abo dynamics, parody, tina's erotic friend fiction, she writes abo but doesn't actually know how it works
i'll wear yours, you wear mine by Eternal_Peace_is_Overrated | Steddie | NR | getting together, three times eddie wears steve's clothes and one time steve wears eddie's
you wear mine, i'll wear yours by Eternal_Peace_is_Overrated | Steddie | NR | domestic fluff, eddie munson's jewelry, three times steve wears eddie's jewelry and one time eddie wears steve's
written for ‘fluffers | threesome’ | wc: 2250 | rated: e | cw: no archive warnings apply | tags: porn star eddie & chrissy, fluffer steve, threesome, chrissy & eddie both dom steve
“Munson!”
Eddie let out a soft groan, lazily lifting his head from the back of the couch to gaze at the PA in the doorway. Between his splayed legs, Steve shifted, but the other chair in the dressing room blocked him just enough that Eddie kept him where he was with a gentle tug of his hair.
His mouth was warm, and Eddie was greedy.
“Going on soon?” he asked of the red-haired man with a clipboard.
“Nope. Got double-booked with Hagen and didn’t win the coin toss.” The guy’s mouth pulled at the corner, confirming what Eddie was suspecting. “Shoot’s canceled.”
Eddie slumped into the cushions. “Well, shit.”
“Director said you can go home. We’ll let you know when it’ll happen.” The PA shrugged, and turned away from the door, already running down the schedule for his next stop.
It wasn’t the end of the world. Eddie had another shoot scheduled in a couple days, but with everything else he was doing, this one likely wouldn’t happen for another month.
He’d been excited about it.
Usually, his videos played better to the male crowd, with Eddie’s tattoos, his lean and strong frame, and silver rings framed in shots where he held pretty boys mouths open for his cock—so he wasn’t often paired with the girls. But of any of them, only his videos with Chrissy Cunningham did anywhere close to as good as his own. She wasn’t anything like it outside of a shoot—but ever since their video as cheerleader and metalhead, the masses wanted more.
She had this deceptive sort of dominance, matching Eddie play for play without it seeming like an act before submission. Eddie was pretty sure neither of them really ever submitted.
Freakin’ Hagen wasn’t even doing anything exciting…some casting couch thing.
With a sigh, Eddie let himself linger in the feel of Steve’s mouth, his tongue stroking on the underside of his dick before he sat up, pulling out from between his pinkened lips. “You can stop now, baby.”
Steve’s exhale traveled over Eddie’s spit-slick cock, before his lashes fluttered and he gazed up at Eddie with dark, dark eyes, the pupils so round and wide their normal whiskey amber was reduced to a sliver. The sight of them alone could get Eddie ready for a shoot without the need for Steve’s mouth on him.
He’d been hired just over a month ago as one of their fluffers. Eddie had been the third actor he’d worked on. And then his last.
Steve had become exclusively Eddie’s at this point. In and outside their respective bedrooms.
Not exactly company policy, but nobody stopped them.
Eddie ran his thumb over Steve’s swollen bottom lip, considering whether or not to use such a willing partner while Steve was already on his knees. He could really let Steve give it his all instead of toeing the line between keeping Eddie camera-ready and ready to cum. Take him all the way to the back of his throat.
Then again, he already pushed it with commandeering Steve all for himself. Fucking in the dressing room might not go over so well.
“Go rest for a bit while I get ready,” Eddie said to him, punctuating his decision by covering his fading erection with his robe.
“M’kay,” Steve nodded, pushing into Eddie’s hand against his cheek as he stood. Eddie followed suit, and Steve dropped into the space he vacated on the couch, sprawled across the length of it. He knew not to touch the clear bulge of his own cock in his jeans, though he kept his arms above his head just to be sure.
Eddie went to his locker to gather his things and change, but it wasn’t long before there was a knock at his door.
He wasn’t surprised much to find Chrissy standing there, already dressed in jeans and a tight sweater, hair up in her ponytail. Unfortunately, it would not be coming undone for a video today.
“Heard the news?” he asked, slipping on his boxers.
She crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. “Freakin’ Hagen. He never reads the schedule.”
Eddie chuckled, undoing his robe. Not like anyone in the room hadn’t seen literally of it before.
“His videos don’t do half as well as either of ours, and he knows it Boring, repetitive. He’d got to put twice as much out to keep up.”
Chrissy hummed in agreement, strangely quiet when it came to badmouthing the one guy who was absolutely lucky to be at the studio with his track record. Eddie glanced over his shoulder, and on second thought, he should have known.
Chrissy looked at Steve, head cocked thoughtfully.
He still lounged on the couch, one of his long legs hung over the back of the cushion, eyes shut as he waited. Steve hadn’t been assigned to Chrissy before Eddie called eternal dibs, but Eddie was still surprised she hadn’t met him yet.
“He’s cute,” she said, stepping into the room. She approached the couch, a question in her eyes to Eddie that he nodded to. Carefully, she ran her fingers through Steve’s hair, and he arched into it immediately, opening his eyes for her.
It was devastating and Eddie knew it. Chrissy’s eyes gleamed in interest.
“You don’t do any videos?”
Steve shook his head, pliant and quiet while Chrissy massaged his scalp.
“Harrington prefers the behind the scenes work. So, he’s all mine,” Eddie answered, recalling how Steve looked in his bed while Eddie took him apart as he slipped into his jeans.
Part of him had considered putting Steve in front of a camera—with Eddie, of course—but besides Steve’s hesitance to do so, he’d only had Steve to himself for a few weeks.
“And the site would crash after a few seconds of his fucked-out face,” he added.
Steve flicked his eyes toward Eddie in a glared at belied the loose sprawl of his body. Eddie winked at him, doing up his belt.
Chrissy went quiet again until Eddie had finished dressing. A flare of arousal at the base of Eddie’s spine hinted that he might not be leaving as disappointed as he would have five minutes before.
“You know, my apartment’s not far from here,” Chrissy said, even and sweet. Eddie bit back a grin as he looked at her from the corner of his eye. “There might not be any cameras, but it’d be a shame to let the day go to waste.”
“Inviting me over, Chris?”
She nodded, easing her hand into the perfect place to pull on Steve’s hair and force him to arch his back, eyes on her. She peered down at him, hungrily eyeing a precious prize. “And this sweet boy here, of course.”
Eddie’s cock twitched in the confines of his jeans. Still, he held back his resounding agreement to call over, “Steve?”
“Yeah.” He did his best to make eye contact with Eddie as he answered, then back to Chrissy to say it again. “Yes.”
~*~*~*~
“Shit, Eddie,” Chrissy gasped, hands clutched onto the headboard. She rocked her hips down against the slick tongue licking into her, shuddering when Steve’s moan wracked through her. “I see why you don’t share him.”
Eddie chuckled as he watched her face, quite familiar with the feeling of Steve’s not just expertise with his mouth, but his enthusiasm. Steve had been born for something like this, and Eddie happily reaped the rewards.
Chrissy was fit and lean, a swimmer, and the muscles in her thighs rippled as she rode Steve’s face. His hands, large and rough, dug in to keep her close, his bare cock hung heavy against his inner thigh. On their own, each was beautiful—especially when Chrissy had put Steve on his knees for her in her bedroom.
And the two of them together…Eddie could die happy right that second.
But then he wouldn’t get to have any fun, and that would not do.
He shuffled up the mattress on his knees, straddling Steve’s thighs behind Chrissy. She didn’t break her rhythm even when Eddie started rubbing his dripping cock against her back and cupped his hands over her tits. She moaned softly, the touch not quite enough to take her attention away from Steve.
He took one of her nipples between his fingers and tugged, twisting until Chrissy arched her back into it, and then he let go. Chrissy panted, but refused to give, dropping one hand to thread into Steve’s hair and shove his tongue as deep as it could go.
Eddie tapped on one of Steve’s hands, a quick check-in. He tapped back, good to continue.
“You always make me work for it, huh, Chris?” Eddie growled, tugging at both her tits.
“Don’t want you getting lazy on me, Munson,” she said, the barest hint of a whimper leaving her lips.
Eddie chuckled and pressed two fingers against her lips, the other reaching down to ease her hand off Steve’s hair to give him a break. She let him, grabbing tight to the headboard again.
But where Steve would have opened easy and wanton for Eddie, Chrissy did what Eddie loved best about her. She fit her teeth around the first knuckle of each finger, just over the line of gentle, her tongue teasing his fingertips.
“I might not be able to make you,” he said to her, drawing close. She narrowed her eyes at him, but Eddie didn’t relent. “But I can make him.”
Steve might be playing pet for both Eddie and Chrissy right then, but Steve was his always. And if Eddie ordered him to stop, Steve would.
Chrissy’s eyes examined Eddie’s face, considering his willpower to hers. Considering the cost of being stubborn over quite nothing at all.
After a moment, she released her teeth and let Eddie’s fingers into her mouth. She stared hard at him while he thrust them slowly between her lips, pink and plump, and he decided that making her choke on them could wait for another time.
Satisfied that he had made his point, Eddie slipped his fingers out and reached between Chrissy’s legs, finding her pussy soaked and dripping from Steve’s tongue.
He hadn’t needed to work so hard with Chrissy’s mouth, but the win had been worth the waste. Two of his fingers slid inside easily, and Chrissy spread her legs wider to make room. He added a third before she had to ask, bullying Steve’s tongue out of the way.
His knuckles hit Steve’s chin as he crooked them deeper and thrust into Chrissy, practiced already with the necessary angle. Steve moaned and shifted somewhere new—though Eddie had a decent idea where when Chrissy bit hard onto her bottom lip.
“He find your clit?” he murmured into Chrissy’s ear.
“Oh, immediately.”
Eddie gave a pleased hum and raised his voice loud enough for Steve to hear. “Keep right there, Stevie, yeah?”
With his mouth preoccupied, Steve tapped Eddie’s thigh twice for his answer. Eddie hummed into Chrissy’s hair, and shoved his fingers deep inside her. She sighed at the fullness, and Eddie knew four would be even better, but from behind it was difficult.
So he crooked his fingers over and over, feeling Steve’s jaw working alongside him, and fucked Chrissy’s pussy with short, rough thrusts. He wasn’t going to hit her g-spot, not yet. He wanted her to tell him she wanted it this time—that she wanted him to make her cum.
“C’mon, Eddie,” Chrissy growled, staring down at Steve below her. “Make a mess of that pretty face.”
And fuck, Eddie hadn’t even thought of that. Caught up in his battle of dominance with Chrissy, when Steve was going to get the best humiliation of his and Eddie’s relationship yet.
Eddie huffed and growled in return, angling his shoulder to fuck all three fingers into Chrissy fast and rough, her pussy so drenched and slick it was sliding down Eddie’s wrist even before she was finished. Steve had taken hold of her hips, holding her in place while he sucked on her clit and Eddie pounded the perfect spot inside her.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Chrissy clenched hard around Eddie’s fingers, finally letting her cries and whine free with her release. Eddie let his fingers be forced out, grabbing his cock at the base to keep from coming as he sat back and watched Chrissy squirt onto Steve’s face, drenching his mouth, his chin, and even down to his chest before she finally stopped squirming with the aftershocks.
Steve—sweet, sweet Steve—kissed her inner thighs with his slick lips.
Eddie released his hold on his cock, shutting his eyes with a sigh as he stroked himself. He replayed it over in his mind, how Chrissy had writhed on his fingers and Steve had happily taken it all and more.
“Oh, we’re not done,” Chrissy said, voice annoyingly steady as she smacked Eddie’s hand away from his cock.
He opened his mouth to bitch, but Chrissy was already clamoring into his lap and shoving him onto the mattress by his shoulders, settling her full weight on his chest. Her skin was shining with sweat, and Eddie fucking hoped she was about to ride him into oblivion with her pussy wet and ready with release.
Instead, she bent forward, nipping hard at Eddie’s bottom lip.
She laughed at his scowl, and said, “We’re not done, until you and I fuck Steve just as hard you did me.”
written for ‘petplay’ | wc: 2139 | rated: e | cw: no archive warnings apply | tags: established relationship, kink exploration, toys, eddie makes a meow noise and steve has thoughts
“What the hell is this?”
Eddie beamed as he shoved the storefront door’s open for both him and Steve, practically vibrating where he stood as he said, “Halloween store.”
And Steve followed him inside, any following comments reduced down to a single, “Um.”
Because…yeah. Halloween was the one and only descriptive word that would fit in a place like this, filled to the brim with towering plastic skeletons, grim reapers and other noisy decorations, and then rows and rows of costumes, even up on the walls.
Steve glanced at a nearby wire rack, lifting up a plush doll with a pumpkin head and devil tail with his fingers.
“Why?”
Eddie had already been drawn in by the costumes, examining them with his eyes wide and bright with glee. He managed to pull his attention back to Steve, who had better resistance to this place and stood in the middle of a rack of props with his hands on his hips.
“Where else are you going to find a rubber machete and a…” He paused, unhooking a costume from its spot and bounded over to Steve to wave it in his face. “nerd girl with orange sweater costume right next to each other?”
Steve eased the thick plastic-wrapped costume away from his face, unimpressed.
Eddie was entirely unbothered, his mind already several thoughts beyond what he last said as his gaze laved over the bounty before him. They caught sharply on something, and Eddie darted off again with only a “Ooh, vamp fangs” to explain where he’d gone.
Leaving Steve holding a costume he definitely wasn’t buying.
He placed it back on a hook, probably not the right one, and tried to follow Eddie as he meandered through aisles, picking up whatever looked interesting even if he put it right back down.
“And they just show up every year?” Steve asked.
“It’s the inevitable fate of the abandoned storefront to eventually become…” Eddie turned, raising a ghoulish mask to his face and putting on a goofy voice. “Spirit Halloween.”
And Steve laughed. Because Eddie maybe looked as though he belonged on the one of the shelves, but really he was a ridiculous man who made Steve feel ridiculous things deep in his chest.
“Well,” Steve said, pulling the mask down only to find Eddie making his best impression of it. “I can see why you like it.”
Eddie dropped the contortion of his face for a genuine smile, stepping into Steve’s space for just a moment to slip his fingers under Steve’s shirt and run them across his stomach. They couldn’t do more, not in public like they were, but it was enough.
Then, Eddie was right back to it, eyes flitting over Steve’s shoulder before his hand immediately followed.
“What about these?” he said, settling something on his head.
They were just large enough to peek out over the wildness of Eddie’s dark curls, looking all the more as though there was a real pair of cat ears, fuzzy and black, instead of a headband. It was different, for Eddie. Soft and cuddly and maybe if he’d picked out one with cow ears, he’d match his big brown eyes a little bit more.
And then Eddie let out this little noise.
“Meow.”
And it wasn’t anything different than he’d ever done. Just as random and dramatic and silly as usual, but it came out of Eddie’s mouth and Steve went still. He had to, because maybe if he didn’t move and Eddie didn’t make that sound again, he wouldn’t be…turned on.
Jesus fuck, he was hard because Eddie meowed at him.
And maybe because of the ears, but still.
“Steve?”
“Uh,” Steve came back to find Eddie staring at him with a frown, and he fought not to bring attention to the fucking blatant giveaway in his jeans by adjusting himself. Eddie was still wearing the damn ears. “Yeah. Looks…cute.”
Brow furrowing, Eddie removed the ears.
Steve wasn’t sure what he felt more: relief or disappointment.
“If you don’t like it, that’s okay,” Eddie said, setting the ears on the rack.
“No, I just—” Steve shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. That only made him glance at the ears again and he forced his gaze away. He forced a soft laugh and asked, “What ever happened to a sexy nurse?”
Something flickered in Eddie’s eyes, interest or humor, but he stopped frowning at least.
“I could do both,’ he said with a wink. He hooked his fingers with Steve’s and tugged him toward an unexplored section of the store. “Come on, wandering’s half the fun.”
~*~*~*~
Steve figured that was that.
Eddie found a costume he liked—something from one of his horror movies and not a cat—and they left. Eddie put the bag in his room to be untouched until Halloween, and if Steve got a flush down his neck whenever he was over and noticed the bag in the corner, that was his business.
It wasn’t that strange. It was just Eddie. Eddie made Steve’s brain go haywire most of the time anyway.
He didn’t even mention it to Robin, mostly because he had no idea what had really happened.
So he didn’t think about it.
And he was pretty sure Eddie hadn’t either.
Until he walked into the trailer, date night movie rental and homemade beans and rice in hand, and discovered that Eddie had absolutely noticed his weird behavior that day and had definitely been thinking about it.
“Hey.”
There were no words. Steve had none whatsoever, standing awkwardly with his hands full and mouth half-open because Steve’s brain was focused completely on…ears. And…tail.
Not the same ears from the halloween store. No, these were bigger and fluffier. They didn’t get lost in Eddie’s curls, and the shiny black fur matched a long tail the curved from the arch of Eddie’s butt all the way down to his ankles. He was otherwise completely naked, all his tattoos on display. Soft, with an edge—all Eddie.
“Ed—Eddie?”
He bit his lip. strolling forward until he was nose to nose with Steve. He hummed, low and deep in his chest.
No, fuck. It was a purr.
“God, you’re…you’re so…”
“Pretty?” Eddie offered.
Steve nearly whined, but the shock still hadn’t left him and he was just standing there like an idiot with his mouth hung open.
“Am I your pretty kitty?” Eddie laid his hands on Steve’s chest, rising up on his toes to nuzzle the side Steve’s cheek and make that low purring sound again.
“Eds, please…”
He continued rubbing against Steve, but he must have just shaved because his skin was soft where Steve’s had slight stubble. And as he pressed his whole body into him, Steve could feel the line of his cock, hard, against his thigh.
“Bedroom,” Eddie whispered, drawing a line up the side of Steve’s throat with his tongue.
And Steve nodded on autopilot, dropping what was in his hands onto the table and following behind. Eddie ran his hand along the length of his tail, flicking it against his bare legs, and Steve nearly sprinted into the bedroom.
He wrapped his arms around Eddie’s middle, careful not to step on the tail. Eddie laughed, bright and surprised, a slight break from his sultry acting. The fur of the tail brushed against Steve’s legs, and even through his jeans, it made him shudder and moan into Eddie’s ear.
Fuck, he was hard.
He’d been hard in the store when Eddie meowed at him. And he was hard now.
“Lie there,” Eddie said, pointing to his mattress.
Steve shook his head, running his hands across Eddie’s chest, his stomach. Grinding his dick against Eddie, doing his best not to shove his hands in Eddie’s hair and knock the ears loose.
Eddie had no such restrictions.
He reached back and grabbed ahold of Steve’s hair at the crown of his head. He pulled, hard enough until Steve gasped and stopped what he was doing to pay attention.
“You’re not supposed to be the naughty one here,” Eddie chastised, swatting Steve’s thigh with his free hand. He released Steve’s hair, jutting his chin toward the bed once more. “ Go.”
Steve slunk onto the mattress, kicking off his shoes and setting up against the pillows.
He’d barely laid back when Eddie fucking…pounced on him like a real damn cat. The mattress creaked under their combined weight, but Steve had a lap-full of Eddie nuzzling into the crook of his neck again, his chest rumbling against Steve’s with that purring sound.
All Steve could do was put his hands wherever they could reach, wherever he could explore the expanse of bare skin Eddie had put on display for him.
Well, almost completely bare.
Steve hadn’t even clocked the jock-strap Eddie was wearing, or why he was wearing it at all.
Not until his hands curved over Eddie’s hips toward the slight swell of his ass and found the thin straps, following them to Eddie’s tailbone. He must have bought them just for this. Bought everything, to surprise Steve with a kink he had been willing to ignore.
He thought…he thought that was where the tail would have been attached.
But the straps were separate, nudged slightly out of the way, not by Steve’s fingers, but the tail itself. Resting snugly between Eddie’s cheeks, connected to something solid and weighty that Steve gripped with his fingers.
If his head hadn’t been so frazzled, he would have recognized it.
But then he wouldn’t have gotten to hear the plaintive whine Eddie let out when Steve tugged at the base of the tail—at the base of the plug stretching out Eddie’s hole and keeping the tail in place.
“Holy fuck, Eddie,” Steve gasped, shifting to better settle Eddie between his legs and fix his grip on the plug. With one arm slung around Eddie’s middle, Steve fucked the plug in and out of Eddie’s hole using the widest part, the slick sound of lube filling the spaces between Eddie’s moans. “You really are my kitty, huh?”
“Meow,” Eddie managed through a few gasping breaths.
Steve shut his eyes tight, groaning through gritted teeth as hot arousal shot through him, straight down to his cock.
“Do that again,” Steve begged.
And even if he was ready for it this time, Steve had to fit his teeth to Eddie’s bare shoulder to fight back the flare of pleasure again. Fight it so he could shove the plug in deep, right against the nerves deep inside Eddie so that his meow cut off with a sharp cry, wriggling in Steve’s hold.
Steve went back to his kinder thrusts for a moment, letting Eddie rest his weight against him with soft little noises falling from his lips. Fuck, Eddie must have used so much fucking lube for the thing, the sound of it still squelching as Steve fucked him.
“Going to make you cum like this,” Steve told him, and Eddie nodded frantically. “And then I want you to lick my cock. You’re going to be a nice kitty for me and lick it all over.”
Maybe Steve could cum from that. Or he’d make Eddie try until he couldn’t take it anymore and fucked him for real.
“Yes, yes.”
Steve let out a ragged noise, hiking Eddie up for the best angle to fuck the plug into that spot, over and over. Eddie thrust his hips against Steve’s chest, the jockstrap straining and growing damp where Eddie leaked into the fabric.
He should have taken off his shirt, the sudden image of Eddie licking his own cum off Steve’s body bright in his head. But Eddie was shaking and whining, digging his nails into Steve’s shoulders, and he might murder Steve if he stopped now.
“Let me see,” he said, sitting back into the pillows. He meant let me see your ears, but it was all Steve could get out in his desperation.
Eddie was quick to obey, bracing against Steve’s pecs so his flushed and fucked-out face was on display. Half-ready to start begging if Steve didn’t finish him off.
Steve shoved the plug deep and kept it there with his fingers.
Pressing and rubbing directly against the nerves that had Eddie arching his back, practically crying to the ceiling. His cock twitched and spilled into the jockstrap, some of it spilling out anyway, rocking his hips into the plug even as it pushed past feeling good.
He let his grip go, and Eddie whined even when his shoulders sagged in relief.
“Good kitty.”
The words fell from his lips, unbidden. Steve stared at Eddie’s fuzzy ears and stroked along his tail, several more ideas coming to mind as to what to do with his new kitty.
written for ‘fabrics | sharps’ | wc: 2807 | rated: e | cw: no archive warnings apply | tags: established relationship, interrogation roleplay, knifeplay (it's fake tho), dom eddie, sub steve
@strangerthingskinktober
Steve never thought being tied up to a chair would get him so turned on.
Sure, there was always the fun experiment of bringing in blindfolds or handcuffs for the girls that were a little more adventurous. More of one-time, let’s try for fun just to stay that we did.
Then being the one tied up on an increasingly regular basis, along with a host of other things once he got past that whole ‘shit, guys are actually pretty hot too’ thing.
And the ‘holy shit, I want to kiss Eddie Munson’ thing.
Eddie was the one who’d done this, after all.
He flexed his hands, testing the give of the bandana Eddie had tied around his wrists. The same one he usually wore in his back pocket, carefully encircling Steve’s wrists behind the back of the chair. He’d needed to use real rope to pin Steve’s legs against the chair’s, thighs spread in an enticing position.
It hadn’t been long. Maybe five minutes since Eddie had checked his knots and then gone downstairs, leaving Steve in a chair in the middle of his bedroom.
Just long enough for Steve to start getting bored, zoning out in front of his blank door.
Just long enough that his heart picked up in surprise when the door opened and Eddie strode through.
He stared silently at Steve as he shut the door, taking in how Steve had fared in his short absence. Eddie had worked quick before, so this was the first time he really saw the full picture of Steve, all tied up and waiting for him.
Steve swiped his tongue across his bottom lip. It drew Eddie’s attention, and he walked forward.
He reached out a hand once he was close enough, cradling Steve’s jaw to tip his face up into a slow kiss. Steve shifted his shoulders, forgetting he couldn’t touch back until his hands pulled at the fabric around his wrists.
Eddie must have noticed him shifting around. He pulled back, keeping his hand at the side of Steve’s face.
“Hi, baby.”
Steve exhaled, relaxing his arms. Eddie stroke his cheek with his thumb, and Steve preened with an answering, “Hi.”
Eddie tamped down what would have been a smile by biting into his lip and lowered his hand. Steve reminded himself not to miss its warmth, because he knew what was coming.
“You know why you’re here?” Eddie asked, soft and sweet, though his eyes narrowed slightly with a hint of significance.
Getting right into it, then.
Steve took a readying breath, much like the ones before his races at a swim meet or confronting the kids about their late video fees.
Then, he cocked his head just slightly.
“I seem to remember somebody tying me up.”
“Cute,” Eddie said, bracing his hand on one of the arms of the chair, bringing his face a hairsbreadth from Steve’s. “But not what I meant.”
Heat flashed across his cheeks and all the way down his neck to his chest. A pleasant buzz began to thrum in the back of Steve’s head, urging him to play along. To push, even. Just a little.
“Yeah?”
Interest gleamed in the deep brown of Eddie’s eyes, and he was so close Steve could almost lean forward and touch his lips to Eddie’s.
“You’ve got a secret,” Eddie said, a light hum in his voice.
Steve flicked his gaze down Eddie’s body, coy and playful. “Who told you that?”
“I could see it written across this pretty boy face of yours,” Eddie said like an obvious fact, darting forward that last bit to nip at Steve’s bottom lip. When he pulled back, his eyes were fully alight with that mischievous gleam. “You’re an open book to me, baby.”
The breath Steve let out was practically ragged.
Eddie had barely touched him yet.
“Please, Eds.”
With a pleased sound in the back of his throat, Eddie straightened and rounded the chair to stand at Steve’s back. Steve tried to follow with his head until he couldn’t, sighing when all he could do again was wait.
This time, he knew Eddie was there.
Knew it was only a matter of time.
Eddie’s hand was a warn brand on the side of his throat that had Steve gasping until Eddie had a light hold under his chin. He tipped Steve’s head back, keeping his thumb on Steve’s lip to hold his mouth open.
Steve stared up at Eddie, his curls falling down around his bare shoulders. Wearing a band tee cut into a tank top for the summer, as though it was any other day and he wasn’t doing exactly he was doing right now.
“You’re going to tell me what it is,” Eddie said.
Steve made a noise in the back of his throat.
With his mouth open, Steve couldn’t speak. Not until Eddie let him.
Dragging his thumb around the circle of his lips first, Eddie released his hold on Steve’s words, slthough he kept his hand on his chin and Steve’s eyes directly on him.
Steve worked his jaw, and gave a remark fitting the slight ache.
“Am I?”
Eddie chuckled, his hand flexing on Steve’s face. He gave a long lookover of Steve’s current predicament. “You don’t have much of a choice.”
A hot flash of lust ran down his spine, and Steve shuddered, eyes fluttering shut. He flexed his wrists and his shoulders, and felt Eddie reach down to check the ties for himself, able to fit two fingers between the bandana and Steve’s wrists.
Found safe and secure, Eddie dragged his nose up the side of Steve’s face, lips grazing his ear.
“Tell me, Steve. Don’t make this hard on yourself,” he whispered.
Steve huffed a breath through his nose. “Best you got?”
A low chuckle rumbled in Eddie’s chest where it pressed against Steve’s shoulder. He heard a soft flick from the direction of Eddie’s free hand and then the soft press of an edge on the delicate skin where his shoulders met his neck.
Pocketknife, then.
A whine escaped him. And if he hadn’t been half-hard already…now, he was straining at the zipper of his jeans.
“You have such a pretty little outfit on. Bet you wanted to be doted on in it.” Eddie mused, guiding the little knife down along Steve’s collarbones where the open vee of Steve’s shirt started with a little white button. “Run my hands over your chest, your stomach, your thighs…with this cool silk against your hot skin. Wanted me to make your cock leak in your panties.”
That actually surprised him.
Eddie was dressed just like any other day, but Steve…Steve had dressed for the occasion in a pale silk shirt and navy blue jeans, complete underneath with the soft pink panties Eddie had bought him weeks ago.
Had he noticed they weren’t in their drawer?
Or had Steve shifted in the chair while Eddie was tying him up, and revealed a conspicuous flash of pink fabric?
“Yeah, I know all about those, Steve.” Eddie’s lips brushed against the shell of his ear. “You want to show them off for me, don’t you? Not get left waiting and wanting for a release.”
Steve struggled through a few breaths to get his thoughts under control. Between his blood rushing down to his dick and Eddie slowly picking him apart, Steve could barely remember that he was supposed to avoid giving in right away.
“Maybe,” he said, long and slow. Like he could actually go without if he tried.
“Be a shame if I had to ruin my baby’s pretty outfit just because you won’t tell me what I want to know.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Eddie,” Steve panted, his pounding heartbeat building in his ears.
“Don’t lie to me, baby.” He pressed the knife against the first button, his voice trailing across Steve’s cheek. “I’ll give you one more chance. Just tell me, and I won’t have to ruin your special clothes.”
He could. It would be so easy. So simple.
And he knew it would so good if he did. He’s get what he wanted, what Eddie wanted, with just a few words. He could do something about his dick straining against his jeans, pleading to be touched and stroked and finished off. He might even convince Eddie to leave his rings on when he touched Steve.
All of it within his reach. And yet…
“No.”
Eddie’s huffed breath sent a strand of Steve’s hair onto the side of his cheek, ticking the skin.
“You’re sure, Steve?” he asked, voice in a whisper as though speaking too loud would break the scene. He eased the knife away from Steve’s throat, even though it wasn’t real. Some plastic thing from Halloween.
Eddie had been buzzing since Steve brought it up. He always did, since he still had it in his head that Steve wasn’t supposed to be into the same kinds of things Eddie was. That Steve might finally book it at the wrong kinky suggestion.
And now he was all worried about tearing up Steve’s clothes when that was the whole point.
To take this certain image of Steve that wasn’t half of who he really was anymore and ruining it. Stripping Steve bare and marking him in every way that meant he was Eddie’s and not “The Hair” or “King Steve.”
Steve had spent all of eighteen bucks at the thrift store on the whole set, even with the silk shirt missing a few buttons. Definitely worth the side-eye from the lady at the register who must have assumed Steve was cheaping out on a gift for a girlfriend.
She was probably better off not knowing the truth.
But Steve could tell Eddie as many times he needed that he wanted it as much as Eddie did. He turned his head toward Eddie, the only part of him he could move with his bindings, until their noses brushed.
“Yeah, Eds. I promise,” he said.
Eddie let out a soft, shaky breath, the both of them otherwise steady and still.
Then, Eddie pressed a kiss onto Steve’s mouth and pulled away, taking a new spot in front of the chair. He still had the knife in his hand, but in quick succession flipped it closed and stuffed the whole thing into his back pocket.
Steve panted just watching him, and the air completely left his lungs when Eddie strode forward, fitting his hands to the two sides of the open vee of Steve’s shirt and yanked.
Fabric ribbed and buttons popped off to hit Steve underneath his chin before tumbling to the carpet.
He didn’t know what exactly made Eddie as strong as he was. Deceptively lanky, but he’d been able to pin Steve to the mattress several times and keep Steve right where he put him. The first time had been a fucking revelation and left Steve wanting Eddie to keep using that strength against him.
To take him apart.
His body burned so hot that the air of his bedroom was a cold shock on his skin, but Eddie didn’t bother to stop. He knelt in the space between Steve’s forcibly splayed legs, running his hands over Steve’s thighs until Steve whined softly and tried to buck his hips against the ropes.
Eddie lifted one hand away for long enough that Steve presumed he was reaching underneath the chair for whatever he’d stashed there earlier.
There was the sound of a soft shick before Steve saw what was in Eddie’s hand.
A pair of metal scissors, heavy-duty enough for denim. Eddie didn’t hold them up for Steve to see, simply fitting them to the bottom cuff of his left leg.
Steve let his head fall back and closed his eyes so he could imagine that the cool metal and bit of an edge against his skin was the knife.
“Just tell me, Steve.”
He shook his head, his blood and his nerves thrumming so intensely Steve wondered if he might simply vibrate out of the chair.
“Have it your way,” Eddie said, voice almost shuddering with poorly restrained excitement.
Steve’s jeans were so old he’d worn holes in the pockets, behind the knees, and where his thighs rubbed the fabric together. But that didn’t matter, when Eddie cut straight up the denim around his calves, before switching to his bare hands against to tear them further up to the inside of Steve’s thighs/
He repeated the same process with the other leg, offering no reprieve whether or not Steve wanted to give the answer to his freedom.
Eddie tossed the scissors aside and then tested the give of the rope now around Steve’s bare ankles. Steve still hadn’t let his head fall forward again, biting down on his lip so hard to keep from shifting too much while Eddie was cutting.
He nearly jumped when Eddie laid his hands on Steve’s bared legs, trailing through the fine hairs the closer he drew toward Steve’s cock, hard and leaking into the panties still underneath intact denim.
“Such a shame with these,” Eddie mused, folding up the loose fabric he’d cut. “They make your ass so…delectable. I just want to bite.”
Steve realized too late, half out of his mind, and shouted his surprise toward the ceiling as Eddie fit his teeth to the thick, sensitive skin of Steve’s thigh. With his teeth as sharp points, Eddie licked and sucked on the skin to the up and down of Steve’s whines.
He released his grip with a sharp pop and what was surely a dark, prominent mark left behind.
“Tell me the secret, Steve.”
Steve groaned and flexed his legs hard enough the chair creaked under the strain. He’d nearly cum from Eddie’s mouth on him, and had been saved because Eddie had decided to stop.
He still refused.
Eddie simply made a matching mark on Steve’s other thigh, pressing his thigh into the other.
“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, please,” he begged.
The pain eased on his skin, Eddie’s lips brushing the tender, ruined as he replied, “You know what I want, baby.”
He kissed at the mark, sweet while Steve knew he was just waiting to be vicious again. The sight he might have made—shirt in tatters on his shoulders, jeans cut open to the groin with purpling marks collecting whatever Eddie’s mouth traveled.
And Eddie…even without Steve’s hand in them, his curls would be wild around his face, his eyes so dark would be black instead of brown. And right between Steve’s legs, all of Steve available to anything Eddie could possibly want to do for him.
Steve finally dropped his head and looked, just to be sure.
Yeah. Even better than he’d imagined.
“Fuck.”
His voice was ragged and Eddie hadn’t even made Steve suck him off yet. But he couldn’t keep it up anymore.
He had to tell.
“I know who saw your DM notes.”
Eddie paused, his lips hovering just above the muscle of Steve’s thigh. He glanced up through his lashes, partially obscured by Steve’s legs and his own curls. Steve held the gaze.
“Who?”
Steve huffed and fought back his scowl. God, he just wanted to cum. “Please, I already told you—”
“Who, Steve?” Eddie repeated, fitting his hand to Steve’s cock. Untouched until that moment, Eddie’s secret weapon to forced Steve to give him what he wanted. He ground his palm against the straining buldge, giving the friction Steve had been gagging for. One, two, three strokes…
Then, he stopped.
Eddie didn’t even have to ask.
“Mike,” Steve blurted.
He expected Eddie to start back up again, to rub Steve off through his jeans and panties as a bit more punishment for holding out for so long. To make even more of a mess that was still a reward.
Steve should have known better.
“I knew they beat that boss way too easy.” Eddie muttered to himself, removing his hand and rising to his feet. He ignored Steve’s plaintive whine, but only to comb his fingers through Steve’s hair and urge him to look up.
He hadn’t noticed until then that he’d been near tears from it all.
“Did so good for me,” Eddie said, leaning down for a kiss onto Steve’s forehead.
Steve waited until Eddie had his fill and pulled away. “Untie me now?”
He would have stayed that way if Eddie really wanted, but Steve had gone too long without touching Eddie. Without holding onto him tight enough to leave marks of his own.
“Sure, baby,” Eddie smiled and slid his fingers from Steve’s hair. He moved to the back of the chain, starting on the ties on Steve’s wrists, though not without a soft reminder whispered in his ear. “But we’re not done, either.”
Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Dustin Henderson, Hades (Hadestown), Persephone (Hadestown), Hermes (Hadestown)
Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Tags: Inspired by Hadestown, Hadestown Sequel AU, Orpheus!Steve Harrington, Musician Eddie Munson, Strangers to Lovers, Protective Steve Harrington, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anal Sex, Counter Sex, Hand Jobs, Musical References, making the same mistake but in a different font, Bittersweet Ending,
Summary:
It’s an old story.
Where the son of a muse, Orpheus, loved and lost a human girl named Eurydice to the Underworld. And to get her back, all he had to do was lead her out without turning to see that she followed. He failed.
Steve, long ago, was Orpheus. He knows Eddie Munson, a young boy with nothing but dreams to sustain him, is not Eurydice. But it has been a long time since being in love, and he knows now the mistakes not to make. He won’t put Eddie in the same tragedy that haunts Steve’s past.
Okay, so, I was on Reddit and there was this discourse of fanfic v. published work, and how the lines are beginning to blur more and more, particularly among readers, and how dangerous this is for fandom spaces because fanfic is not designed for the same sort of engagement one has with a published work. They look similar and feel similar, but equating them can be devastating for fanfic writers, particularly if people start reviewing and critiquing fanworks the same way they do published works.
The comparison on that subreddit—which I had never encountered but might well have been around forever and new to no one but me because sometimes I do live in a cave—was that fanfic is like a potluck. And I love that because it's 100% accurate.
At a potluck, you make something for people to enjoy out of love. It’s really shitty to go to a potluck, then walk up to someone who made what you believe is a subpar casserole and start in like you’re a food critic. You’re missing the point of the potluck. And you’re kind of a dick.
In a restaurant, the rules are different, just like in the publishing industry. You select a restaurant, you pay for a meal, and if the meal isn’t to your liking, you can leave the restaurant a review on Google or Yelp or the platform of your choice (assuming you didn’t just throw a tantrum in the restaurant itself, but that’s another discussion). And sure, YMMV from other diners’ experiences, but even if everyone loves this restaurant and you don’t, it’s perfectly acceptable to leave a subpar review listing the reasons why it didn’t meet your standards. It’s fodder for future diners to consider at this point, less for the restaurant itself. The way book reviews are meant to be for readers, not the author. The author will see it, they might get annoyed, but unless they want their career to go up in smoke, they won’t respond. Just like restaurant owners who go nuclear on bad reviews, word spreads when someone can’t take criticism.
And no, it’s still not cool to critique someone’s potluck dish even if that person is a professional chef. They still elected to invest their time, talent, and creativity to bring that dish to the potluck and are getting nothing out of it but the satisfaction of their dish being enjoyed. The potluck should be a safe space for everyone—the chef knows to expect unsatisfied customers at work; when they’re at play, when they’re relaxed and enjoying something with a chosen community, it’s really shitty to start acting like a customer in the restaurant. You don’t have to love what they brought but keep it to yourself and go try something else.
As a published author, it bothers me a lot more when people invade my fanfic space to be critical than it does any of the 20+ works I have for sale on Amazon and other vendors, and this is why. Fanfic is more personal because it’s unpaid labor created out of love and a desire for community. It’s not a commodity, and treating it like that is how you murder joy and, for some creators, sometimes the drive to ever create again.
