mid-80s

[mid-80s]

Another request I accidentally deleted (though I don’t remember doing so but I take responsibility) but the main focus was overstimulation on Kenma so if it isn’t what the requester wanted, I apologize!

Warnings: alcohol mention, overstimulation, foursome, anal, nipple play, handjob(s), orgasm denial, dacryphilia, cum play, fingers in mouth, spit, lube, not much talking

BokuAkaKuroKen + Overstimulation — Kenma receiving

Bokuto and Kuroo were always a duo you loved and hated in a way. Together they were the life of the party and would often be the last ones standing, if not solely because Bokuto kept Kuroo from falling asleep or passing out after a few drinks. Loved, for those reasons, but hated because they often forgot filters around each other and perhaps others wouldn’t want to hear what’s going on or that their partners small secrets would slip by unnoticed. For the most part, Akaashi and Kenma were aware of these and didn’t need to bother with worrying too much, but sometimes some bedtime secrets would be loosed from lips without their knowledge.

“A few tweaks to his nipples and he’s practically putty in my hand,” Kuroo smirks, giving a lidded gaze full of pride towards Bokuto. “Akaashi can’t beat that,”

“Of course he can! All I takes is knowledge of where to poke and stroke, if you get what I mean,” Bokuto winks, but Kuroo isn’t buying it.

“I meant outside, not inside. Obviously that’ll get him sensitive. Can you get Akaashi to cry before even putting your hands on his lower area?”

“I mean.. I haven’t tried. I usually go in for the thighs first, so I’m already down there. Sometimes he’s ticklish, so I have to be careful, though,”

“Him? Ticklish? I can’t see it,” Kuroo shakes his head, leaning back against his chair while sipping on his coffee. Bokuto, with his hand on his chest and a horrified expression on his face, straightens his back.

“His laugh is wonderful and it’s only in certain areas, but he’s one of the most sensitive when it comes to tickling. In fact, I’ll even prove it when he gets back,” he practically inaudible ‘hmph’a when he finishes his sentence, but the conversation switches to other things in no time at all.

Akaashi and Kenma leave them two to talk while they go and do their own things, but never leave them alone for long. Soon after they’ve switched topics, both of their boyfriends come back with bags of new books, as well as the newest gaming console Kenma wanted. Bokuto had forgotten about his mentions of ticklish Akaashi, and soon enough Kuroo and Kenma were leaving and heading back to Kenma’s place.

Kuroo may have forgotten about it and Bokuto may have forgotten about tickling, but one thing he couldn’t forget was Kuroo mentioning how sensitive Kenma was. He wanted to see Akaashi get overly sensitive just from his nipples, just a few fleeting touches that have him crying out for more. Yet, he knew Akaashi better than that and knew his nipples weren’t as sensitive as Kenma���s supposedly were. Even more than that, he knew Akaashi would be suspicious if he tried to tease an area he had previously never paid much attention to.

In fact, it wasn’t long until Bokuto called Kuroo and asked for tips on stimulating Akaashi without getting to the main course. He had faith in his abilities to render Akaashi a tear-filled mess within seconds, but he refused to have not beaten Kuroo in something as simple as this. Kuroo, however, could only grin in pride as he told Bokuto there wasn’t a way for him to beat him if Akaashi wasn’t as sensitive. “It just isn’t in your cards, the deck is different and the game is similar but not the same,”

“Then I just need to prove myself with Kenma’s body, right?” Bokuto said, not putting too much thought into it. Kuroo was stunned, but not for long before an idea was planted in his head. “Though I guess—”

“That’s a great idea. I’ll show you how it’s done and we can get him into a puddle within seconds. You can even bring Akaashi, so he can see what it’s like for Kenma,” Kuroo interrupted, making Bokuto freeze as his words registered.

“Okay!”

Kenma’s shy about his body being on display, but he can’t deny he somewhat enjoys the attention he receives from his three friends. With Bokuto’s intense gaze while he makes sure to please Akaashi with his hands, Kenma can only really focus on the way Kuroo’s cold fingers flick his nipples, his spit coating them to add to the coldness. Kuroo’s hands are completely absorbed in tending to Kenma’s nipples, his cock is throbbing with pleasure without even being touched. It doesn’t help he can see how Akaashi’s falling apart with flushed cheeks and small tears just from Bokuto’s hand alone, that and his determination to not let Akaashi finish until Kenma does.

A pinch to his sensitive nipples spells the end for Kenma’s resistance, his teeth clenched as drool spills from his lips and his body jerks as his cum splatters against the bed, oozing into the creases. Almost immediately after his post-orgasmic gaze has cleared, he hears a strangled cry from Akaashi as his body twitches on Bokuto’s, head thrown back as Bokuto’s hand is coated with sticky cum. Some of it drips onto the floor, but most of it goes into Akaashi’s mouth as Bokuto presses his fingers to his lips, mouth opening mindlessly to lick and suck on the digits.

With the tutorial over, Kuroo and Bokuto switch spots so Bokuto’s behind Kenma, with Kuroo bringing Akaashi to the bed and sitting behind him. Now it’s time for Kenma and Akaashi to see how well their friends can please them, how they please and tease best. With Kuroo behind Akaashi, he uses the same method on a slightly overstimulated Akaashi, rubbing cold fingers against perky nipples that have Akaashi sighing in pleasure. Bokuto makes sure to prep Kenma, coating his fingers in lube as he pushes them in to spread him out.

Pushing two thick fingers in has him practically melting into Bokuto’s arms, his cock twitching as more cum gushes out, splattering against Akaashi’s thighs. Akaashi’s cock is hard, but it only throbs and bobs, waiting for attention. Kenma is only still in the beginning of getting prepped for Bokuto’s hard cock, yet he can’t even keep his head up long enough to see Kuroo and Akaashi, too busy drowning in so much pleasure all at once. He does raise his enough when he hears Akaashi gasp, and feels a presence in his lap near his cock.

With lube coating Bokuto’s cock, the bottle is passed to Kuroo who coats his own cock and preps Akaashi for entry. Akaashi, who is currently using his tongue and limited consciousness to lap at Kenma’s cock, fingers digging into his thighs as Bokuto enters him. The stretch is more than he expected, a strangled meal erupting from him as Bokuto enters him in one fell swoop, completely splitting him and hurling him into another orgasm. Without warning, his cum coats Akaashi’s face, who managed to close his eyes in time, and his hand.

When Kuroo pushes into Akaashi, his eyes roll back as he hangs his mouth open in an ‘o’, letting spit and drool drip onto Kenma’s lower regions that quickly have his cock springing back to life, his cock red from stimulation as tears stream down his face. Giving a couple of thrusts to Akaashi, Kuroo uses his hand to keep Akaashi’s head down so he can suck off Kenma while Bokuto fucks him. Akaashi does so, swirling his tongue over Kenma’s sensitive tip before taking all of his cock in his mouth and bobbing to Kuroo’s thrusts.

Bokuto also begins thrusting, using his arms to move Kenma in rhythm to Akaashi’s sucking, attaching his lips to Kenma’s throat as he makes marks blossom on the skin. Big and red, Bokuto makes sure to nip his skin with teeth that has Kenma crying out each time as his own hands find their way to his nipples, teasing and playing with them as stimulations come from every direction. Bokuto hasn’t even barely begun and he’s already overly sensitive, his body flushed.

By the time Bokuto’s thrusts stutter and he just leans back as he watches Kuroo fuck Akaashi, who is still sucking Kenma off, Kenma has almost passed out from the stimulation. Finally, Kuroo pauses in his thrusts, moving his hand to Akaashi’s sensitive cock that finally has him finishing, bringing Kuroo to his orgasm as well. Watching as they come undone together, Kenma can’t help but clench around Bokuto, desperate for his release. Merciful as he is, Bokuto give another couple of thrusts that hit Kenma’s sweet spot before he’s painting his walls white, filling him up until it’s overflowing and Kenma’s orgasm is hard hitting, but little comes out due to his previous ones.

Satisfied and full, Kenma all but passes out on Bokuto’s lap, his hands going towards his nipples and his sensitive cock. Pressing his lips to Kenma’s neck, Bokuto glances at Kuroo who is lovingly rubbing his hands over Akaashi, soothing him. They both look towards Bokuto, while all three share a smile.

Definitely something to try again.

[mid-80s]

twt went crazy for these lol, serial killer au... not sure abt tumblr's gore rules but uhhh. guys its just ketchup!!

[mid-80s]

twt went crazy for these lol, serial killer au... not sure abt tumblr's gore rules but uhhh. guys its just ketchup!!

[mid-80s]

That was the low battery notification

[mid-80s]

Jayvik Frankenstein AU

[mid-80s]

This is literally this entire website in a nutshell

[mid-80s]

ฅ^>⩊<^ ฅ

[mid-80s]

IT’S GETTING STICKY !! 𝒻𝓉. 𝑀𝒾𝑔𝓊𝑒𝓁 𝒪’𝐻𝒶𝓇𝒶 ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

summary: living in an alternate universe where the A/B/O dynamic contributes to societal norms, you ask your werewolf boss to help you through your heat. it can't cause any more problems, right?

tags: afab! reader, slow-burn??, knotting, praising, ruts and heat, possessive and clingy behavior, slick, soft sex, mentions of claws and elongated canines, and biting is mentioned.

author’s note: this fic is primarily for me as this was supposed to be posted for kinktober, but got help back as I had to research this 😭 and this is a super late birthday present for myself ngl—

The cycles of heats and ruts were meticulously scheduled, a system that you, had come to know. Each month, the 17th stood out boldly, encircled in an obnoxious pink heart drawn with a highlighter and accentuated by a pink pen. The vivid hue clashed dramatically with the monochrome palette of his stark office, where the muted greys and blacks formed a backdrop as dreary as the paperwork piled high on his desk.

This method of marking is brilliant in its simplicity—nontraceable, yet striking enough to be easily noticed past Miguel’s paperwork. It was a system that worked, a colorful beacon.

But the aroma, no, the stench—it’s hard to drown out.

Let alone ignore.

It was a sweet aroma he adores. That sweet, enticing smell always stirred his stomach. It was enough to make anyone throw up from the smell. But the smell became a familiarity for Miguel. The smell always plagued him, no matter what he uses to remove the smell.

The smell was similar like you: Sticky and stubborn to get rid of.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

The sickening sound of the bed springs rocking under the additional weight broke the apartment's typical silence. “C’mon, let me slide it in…” He growls against the shell of your ear, his elongated canine nipping at a tiny bit of skin. His hardening cock nudged and nudged, pleading for a form of entry. His words feign harm. He croons meaningless words, slowly rubbing his veiny length against your soft, puffy lips. “It’s not gonna fit” are the only words escaping your lips. The only words. “I’ll make it fit.” He hisses, a throb at the base of his cock, waiting for him to release the knot at his balls.

He looms over you like a shadow, his lips moving from the shell of your ear to your cupid’s bow. A yearn of softness. A plead of physical contact that didn’t involve lust or ruts. You reach up, attempting to sew his lips against yours and to keep him there.

He exhales a heavy groan, his breath sweeping a lost strand of hair away from your face. “Please,” his eyes narrow. The dim lights of your room emphasize the color crimson in his iris. Red mixes with your hazelnut color, a combination of lava and graphite.

“You can do it.” He rasps before gently guiding the head of his tip to your fluttering entrance. His bulbous tip gently moved up and down your slit. A soft groan escapes the back of his throat, the sensation of your walls engulfing him and suffocating him. Even with the diamond shimmer of slick, the rut in his gut nearly suffocated his cock. It was as if a barbed wire was around his shaft, squeezing and probing for release. His hand grasp at his length, squeezing at it before pushing the mushroom-y tip inside. He uses his free hand to grab at your rear, eyeing at the exotic sight of your greedy walls taking him and gripping onto him like a vice.

“I can’t…!” A strained stretch overwhelmed you as his breathing fanned your skin, cooling down the warm and sweat forming at your brow. “Atta girl,” He groans, his hands grasping onto your hips. His fingernails dive into your skin, dribbles of blood seeping out the swell of your skin and rolling down your skin. The noise from the back of his throat escapes as his elongated fangs bared out and made contact between your shoulder and neck. The piercing bite punctures tiny indent holes, some of the bites molding into the skin while three of them seep blood.

“Look at you. You’re taking me so well.” The thrusts were heavy, pushing and demanding before pulling out nearly all the way, leaving his tip in and slamming his length back in with ease. The shouts of his name morph into breathy moans, your hips moving with his at an agonizing slow pace, trying to keep up. He bites his tongue, holding back any snarky remarks.

But a squeeze sends him down to you as he continues with the brutal force, his hips snapping into you like a leather whip. “Do that again, it feels nice.” He croons, his hand reaching to grab your tit instead. You weakly squeeze your walls against his cock with a whine, his hand slapping your squeezed breast. “Don’t tease. Your teasing is torture, mami.” He lets go of your breast and fists at the now torn bedsheets instead. His claws sink into the ripped material, creating more rigid tears into the silky fabric. The inconsistent kegal patterns sent chills down his spine, pleading for him, squeezing him to finish. “There we go.” He paises as your weakened actions barely mirror his desperate, manic motion. You cover your lips with your hands, harsh breathing fanning the pillow case.

“Don’t cover your mouth. I wanna hear you, mamas.”

The overstimulation flooded chills down your spine as he sloppily thrusts his tip against your g-spot. The harsh, rapid pressure point pushed down and rubbed, nudging you to the edge of a cliff. To the cliff of an orgasm with a tumble of a slip and slide of slick. “Miguel, ‘m gonna cum.” Your voice is shushed but choked up, at the brink of finishing. His motions were blurred, your field of vision no longer on your pink bedsheets, rather, the white ceiling above you. His hand moves quick, his palms pushing down on your lower stomach. “Go ahead, untie that sensation.” His breath fans your prespired forehead, managing to cool you down temporarily. A pathetic scowl is evident on his lips, your body slowly leaning forward for a kiss, even if it’s a small, pathetic one. The slow motion caught his attention. He furrowed his brows, rumination running rampant in his head.

He brushes his lips against yours, his lips ghosting the tip of your nose. Even though the rapid, needy thrust, the undertone of a soft kiss ghosted your skin before moving down to his desired target. It said “I need you.”

You eagerly reciprocate, sewing your lips onto his, the locking kiss making your head spin. The kiss is intoxicatingly sweet, like poison, sweet as your aroma. Every kiss made him want to consume the sweet, juicy peach-like smell, intoxicating him to ravish more, to have a certain hunger for it.

He slowly pulls away, hesitant to let the kiss come to an end.

He looks down, his eyes tracing down to the two of you, watching himself disappear inside of you. Your eyes move downwards as well, enjoying the sight before you. You bite your tongue, holding back any snarky remarks. The heavy strokes come to an end, the warmth of his cum flooding your fluttering walls. The rut and knots interlinked between the two of you, the blissful high washing down onto your flushed skin.

His once rough and demanding touches transformed into soft, tender caresses that spoke of affection that contradicted his actions from before. He tenderly lifts his hand to cradle your cheek, his skin warm against yours. His thumb glides softly along your skin, applying just enough pressure to draw you closer, igniting a warmth into your skin. The gentleness of his caress contrasts sharply with the past, weaving intimacy into every moment shared. He basks in your softness, wiping away any stray tears if there were there. But really, it was just a pathetic excuse to touch your skin.

“I got you,” He whispers into your flushed skin. “I’ve always got you.”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

Tag List:

@miguelhugger2099 @bluesidez @opaloharas @hyjionie @kavimoo @zaunsin @keiva1000

[mid-80s]

may or may not have started a girl blog

[mid-80s]

no room for more

for @steddiesmuttyseptember prompts 'full' and 'silent'

rated e | 18+, minors dni or even look in this direction out of curiosity | 1521 words | no cw | see all tags on ao3

🔴⭕🔴⭕🔴⭕🔴⭕🔴⭕

“Too much,” Eddie whines.

He isn’t much of a whiner, so Steve pauses.

“Is it?” He asks as he looks down to see his fingers pushing in next to the plug that’s kept Eddie open for hours. “Need to stop?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Just need a second.”

Steve can give him that. He’s taking more than he’s ever had before, and he’s doing it while having to be as quiet as possible. Robin’s in the other room, hopefully asleep, but probably not.

She’s made it clear on more than one occasion that she never wants to hear anything they get up to.

They probably shouldn’t have done this on a night when she was home, but Eddie insisted he could be quiet.

Eddie wants Steve to fuck him while he’s got a plug in him. That’s what this is all about. He wants to feel full and stretched and loved.

But if two fingers and the plug are already too much, Steve’s not sure they’ll get there tonight.

“Okay. More,” Eddie whispers. He spreads his legs apart further, holding himself open, letting out a long breath as he relaxes.

He trusts Steve. It’s never more clear than in these moments.

Steve readjusts himself so he can lick the precum beading at the tip of Eddie’s cock while he adds a third finger. There’s a lot of resistance, but Eddie doesn’t pull away or make any type of noise to let him know to stop.

“Fuck, fuck,” Eddie gasps, lifting his head to look down at Steve’s mouth wrapping around his cock. “Gonna come.”

“No you’re not,” Steve pulls away, still his fingers. “I’m not inside you yet. That was the reason for all this, wasn’t it? You don’t wanna disappoint me, do you?”

Eddie shakes his head before Steve even finishes asking his questions.

“Then you’re not gonna come until I’m inside you. Got it?”

Eddie nods.

Steve’s pretty sure if he manages to get his dick inside Eddie, he’ll last about two seconds. Probably won’t even be able to actually move with how tight he is around his fingers.

“Do you need to come?” Steve asks, stretching his fingers a bit more as he speaks.

“No,” Eddie whispers. He’s lying, but Steve appreciates that he’s doing his best right now. It’s gotta be hard when your prostate has a plug rubbing against it constantly while you get stretched more than you ever have. “I can- I can wait.”

“That’s because you’re a good boy, right?” Steve whispers against his hip, nipping at the skin.

“Mhm.”

“Say it, then.”

“I’m-” Eddie rocks his hips up as Steve starts to work the plug in and out with one hand while his three fingers keep stretching him open.

“You’re…”

“I’m a good boy,” Eddie is getting louder every time he speaks. Steve should care more, but he finds it hard to when he sounds so breathy and gone.

“Yeah, but who do you belong to, baby?” Steve pushes because he can, because he knows Eddie loves when Steve gets possessive. “Who are you a good boy for?”

“You. Good boy for-” Eddie moans, much too loud, closes his eyes and tenses his body. “For you.”

“You are,” Steve says as he pulls his fingers out. He should probably add a fourth one, just to make sure, but Eddie made it obvious he wanted the stretch, even if it hurt a little. “You’re gonna feel so good.”

Steve’s spreading lube on his dick when Eddie whines again.

Steve pauses again.

“Aren’t you supposed to be quiet? What’s got you whining?” Steve asks. He hopes it’s not from actual pain, though he thinks Eddie would’ve said red by now if that was the case.

“Need you,” Eddie sounds wrecked. He doesn’t sound like he needs anything at all, like he’s already gotten everything Steve can give him. “Need more.”

Steve answers by guiding his leaking cock to Eddie’s entrance, pushing the plug so it’s to the side.

Eddie’s not tense anymore. He seems like he’s not even physically in bed, actually.

He doesn’t get to subspace very often when they play like this. It’s just not easy for him. He feels good, and it’s nothing either of them do wrong, it’s just not something that happens.

So when it does happen, Steve makes sure he does everything he can to keep him there for a while.

“Look at you, being so good for me. Taking everything I give you, staying quiet,” Steve knows that part is a little bit of a lie, but if it helps him stay quiet, it’s worth it. “Gonna fill you up so you’re mine.”

Eddie is making low whimpering sounds, something Steve’s never heard him make before.

He’s incredibly tight, almost impossibly so. Steve starts to worry he won’t be able to bully his way inside next to the plug. Maybe they should’ve tried his cock and two fingers first or something. Maybe they should have tried the plug and the dildo. Anything else first.

Eddie’s eyes roll back as Steve pushes further in, halfway inside him now.

“Yours, yours. Yours..”

Steve barely manages to bite back a loud groan as Eddie clenches around him.

“Relax, baby. Gotta let me in,” Steve hears how breathless he sounds. He wonders if Eddie is tight enough to keep him hard even after he comes. It’s worth a try tonight.

Eddie listens because he’s Steve’s good boy. He lets out a long breath and Steve is able to push all the way inside.

“Steve, Steve, Steve, holy fuck, I have to-” Eddie is babbling, barely coherent. Steve’s doing his best to listen, but he’s admittedly quite busy trying not to come yet. “Gotta come. Please, please.”

“Almost, baby. You’re doing so good. I haven’t even fucked you yet,” Steve groans as he slowly pulls out halfway, then pushes back in. Eddie’s tight around him, the plug trying to fall out to make room for Steve only stopped by Steve’s fingers holding the base.

He knows he won’t last long, so he decides he’s gonna give it his all for as many seconds as he can. Because that’s what he’s working with here: seconds, not minutes.

Steve fucks him, harder, faster, probably enough for Eddie to feel at least a little discomfort from the pull of the plug and push of his cock all at once. It’s damn near too much, Eddie’s walls tightening around him nearly painfully as he gets closer and closer.

“You feel so good, baby. So tight. I’m gonna come, fill you up even more. Think it’ll even fit?” Steve’s still in pretty good shape, but this is pushing him over the edge, making him sound like he’s been running miles when he’s barely even moved.

Eddie doesn’t answer. His eyes are closed, mouth open in what might be a silent scream.

He’s coming, making a mess of himself, shaking. Steve can’t breathe as he watches him fall apart.

No one is as beautiful as Eddie is when he comes. It’s like looking at a star too close.

Steve can feel his own cock twitching inside Eddie, filling him up just like he promised. He’s biting his lips until they bleed to keep quiet, but he doesn’t even know if he’s successful.

He pulls the plug out of Eddie when he starts shivering, overstimulated and tears falling from his eyes.

His cock is still hard, but he doesn’t think it will last much longer. Not with the way his cum starts dripping from Eddie’s hole, and Eddie lets his fingers dive down to scoop it back inside him. Once Eddie’s fingers drag along his cock, he pulls out, wincing at the overstimulation. Sometimes he can go a couple rounds, sometimes he’s lucky to make it through one.

“Plug,” Eddie rasps, shoving more fingers into his hole to try to stop the cum from leaking out of him.

Steve does what he asks, but knows he’s gonna take it out in the next 20 minutes or so to make sure he isn’t hurt.

“I love you, baby,” Steve says as he kisses his forehead, his cheek, his nose. “You were perfect. You feel okay?”

“Mhm,” Eddie hums. “Sore.”

“We’ll take a bath in a minute,” Steve reminds him of the plan. He only agreed to try this if Eddie allowed him to go all out with the aftercare. That was their deal. “Can you look at me?”

Eddie’s eyes blink open slowly, glassy and watery.

“There you are.” Steve kisses the corner of his mouth. “You did so good.”

“Your good boy.”

“You are my good boy. Always.” Steve hears Robin’s door slam shut. He laughs, hangs his head as he realizes Robin was probably in the living room for most of that. “Maybe we should’ve been quieter.”

Eddie’s brows furrow. “I had two dicks in me.”

Steve snorts. “Well, a dick and a plug, but yeah. I think we should’ve saved it for when Robin wasn’t home.”

“She can deal. She chose this.”

“And I chose you.”

Eddie smiles up at him, still half-gone.

“Love you. Bath?”

“On it.”

[mid-80s]

Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember.

Trust the Process

Week #5 Prompt: Silent | Word Count: 1022 | Rating: E | POV: Steve | CW: Soft Dom/Sub Vibes | Tags: Sub Steve Harrington, Dom Eddie Munson, Yeah He's Gagged, But It's Still Soft Around Here

Eddie's hand is gripping Steve's shoulder, just holding him still and in place on his knees at the foot of the bed. He can't see Eddie hovering behind him, only the messy sheets on their bed laid out before him, as Eddie keeps him immobile. Eddie's other hand pets the nape of his neck, and Steve knows what he wants, so he tilts his head back, giving himself over, as he closes his eyes. 

"That's good," Eddie says, soft and melodic. It always takes Steve a minute to get used to the quiet of this Eddie. To catch up. To get on the same page.

Steve's so used to the loud and brash version, that this version with the solid, reined in control, has always been a touch disconcerting.

It's taken time to get used to it, taken time to learn how to submit without any pushy, loud demands. He's still learning. But Steve tries. He breathes through his nose, sucking in air, and then pushes it back out again.

Eddie squeezes his shoulder in time with his breathing. A deep squeeze as he inhales, and a slow release of pressure as he exhales. And that does feel good. Centering. It's quiet, and completely still in the room. The only sound is Steve's breathing, and Eddie's rings slightly clinking together as he applies steady pressure to Steve's bare skin, and then lets it fade, again and again.

Eddie may be able to temper himself, may have all the self-control in the world in this room, but Steve can't say the same for himself. 

So, he's gagged. Eddie's bandana rolled up and forced between his teeth, tied into place behind his head. The fabric is wet, and he can't help touching it repeatedly with his tongue. Being held open this way, for this long, is making his jaw a little sore, but in a good way. Everything Eddie does, even if Steve's less than gung ho about it from the outset, is good.

Steve's learned to trust the process. Even if he's terrible at it. Because Steve knew he was supposed to be quiet tonight. And yet, he still couldn't manage to do even that one simple thing. Instead, he was gasping and moaning and whining so loud that Eddie decided it had to be done for him with a black strip of fabric, decorated in long-ago faded skulls.

"That's better, finally some peace and quiet around here," Eddie says, and Steve thinks that's a little ironic. Eddie doesn't have a leg to stand on about keeping quiet. He hasn't gone twenty minutes without yapping for as long as Steve's known him.

Unless they're doing this, of course, where Eddie Munson is suddenly as quiet as a church mouse. Somehow. Against all odds.

But Steve nods, agreeing with Eddie's statement, because that's what Eddie needs from him. Wants. Desires. 

Steve likes the noise.

But he's giving Eddie the silence he's requested.

Because when it comes down to it, Steve's always willing to submit to him, even if this particular line item is not something that really revs his engine. Steve would rather hear Eddie. His voice, his laugh, his whole, far too big to contain, personality.

And yet, somehow Eddie does just that: contains it. He tamps it down, bottles it up, shoves it away, and Steve is a little bit in awe of that, still, all these years later.

Steve swallows as much as he can around the gag, and it always makes him feel like he's gonna choke. It's not totally silent, can't be, as he works his throat to get the lump there to go down. He's sure it can't be pretty. And he likes to be pretty for Eddie. Likes when Eddie looks at him like he's still stunned that he caught Steve Harrington, and got to keep him.

It's selfish, and vain, and-

"Steve," Eddie says, and Steve opens his eyes, looking up at him. Forgetting where his brain was wandering off to, mid-thought, as Eddie's eyes lock on his.

He's fine. He's good. And Eddie sees that, checking in, and once Steve's sure Eddie has found what he's looking for, Steve closes his eyes again.

If he wanted out of this, all he'd have to do is stand up. Or reach up and untie the fabric. And Eddie would let him. Eddie's in control, Eddie's leading, but Steve always has an easy out. A clearly marked exit ramp, if needed. Eddie's always made that abundantly clear.

Steve doesn't really like to be restrained, and Eddie really doesn't like to worry about him.

He suddenly wants to be closer to Eddie, and leans his head back further, until the back of his head touches Eddie's stomach.

Eddie strokes his hair, and it's nice. Relaxing. As much as he can relax on his knees, jaw sore. 

Then, Eddie shifts and uses his thumb to stroke between Steve's eyebrows, soft upward motions, and it's like Eddie is pulling the tension straight out of him. It's like his strings have been cut, as he slumps forward, and Eddie was clearly prepared for that, because he guides him up onto the bed.

Adjusts his pliant form, and finally slides into Steve's body. Steve breathes deep through his nose, and moans around the bandana, as Eddie's hands grip is his hips, finally fucking him. Steve's cheek and chest are pressed into the sheets, his ass pulled upwards so Eddie can get the angle he wants.

Hips snapping against Steve's ass, his bony hips digging in, working to bring this all to a close. 

And Steve shuts his eyes and enjoys the ride. 

Then he feels Eddie's fingers untying the fabric, feels the bandana being pulled from his mouth, feels the release of being released wash over him. This must be what a dog that's been let off-leash feels like.

Free.

"Let me hear you now," Eddie says.

And Steve lets loose, finding his voice. It's dry, and scratchy, but he gives Eddie everything he has, and Eddie gives it back to him, tenfold. 

Loud moans, louder words, and deafening, ear-ringing amounts of love.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesmuttyseptember to follow along with the filth! 💦

[mid-80s]

older men who care for me and give me princess treatment. older men who put my socks and shoes on for me and then kiss my knee. older men who hold me by the waist. older men who kiss my nose and call me beautiful. older men who arent sex obsessed freaks.

[mid-80s]

- nsfw, manhandling, coming in pants

One thing Eddie wasn’t expecting when he started dating Steve is just how playful he is.

Seriously, of all the things people say about Steve Harrington, it goes really understated. Eddie asked Nancy about it to see if Steve’s always been like this or if it’s just Eddie that brings out this side of him. But even when they were together, Steve was throwing Nancy into pools and twirling her around in the hallways. 

It’s different with Eddie though, of course, because Steve’s not as worried about hurting or crushing him. So Eddie’s getting thoroughly manhandled on a daily basis and, well, he loves it.

All he has to do is snatch the remote from Steve or flick him on the ear or say something a little mouthy and he gets wrestled to the ground with the man of his dreams on top of him. Eddie obviously fucking loves it.

He just didn’t realize how much. 

And right now is the worst time for him to find out.

They’re at Rick’s. It’s the best place for them to hang out. Secluded. No neighbors or parents or angry townspeople sniffing around. Rick is cool, always has been. They just hang out, smoke, music, movies, business, and then Rick is fine with them doing what they do. He even lets them defile the spare room. It’s safe.

It’s not safe for Eddie at the moment, though, because he decided to steal Steve’s gum out of his mouth when he gave him a quick kiss. Well, it was supposed to be a quick kiss, but Eddie dragged Steve down on the couch, bumping into Rick as Eddie made the kiss dramatic and messy.

“Alright, love-dudes, any closer and I’m gonna be in on the action,” Rick jokes when Eddie and Steve are practically in his lap.

Eddie drags Steve up by the collar, pulling back from the kiss with a loud smack. Steve’s hair is artfully disheveled, still caught off guard from the sudden lip-locking session. His eyes are slow to focus on Eddie’s grin, chewing on the minty prize he claimed from Steve’s mouth.

“Baby, that was my last piece.” Steve reaches to cup Eddie’s face but Eddie catches his hands first.

“It’s mine now.” Eddie blows a bubble to really tease him. “Unless you’re gonna come take it back.”

Eddie can see Steve toying with the idea in his mind, his pupils widening like an animal before it pounces. Eddie’s heart rabbits in his chest, just eager for whatever Steve’s going to do to him, wanting to rile him up even more, make it worse.

Steve grabs him by the shoulders, trying to lean in for another kiss to take the gum back, but Eddie dodges his lips. Eddie’s laughing, somewhere between delighted and deranged, as all the grabbing and swaying makes them tumble onto the floor. 

Steve lands on top and Eddie’s breath rushes out of him from the collision of their bodies. It gives him an exhilarating head-spin, positively reeling all over as they roll around on the carpet. 

Steve is relentless, stubbornly determined and Eddie realizes how much he loves it in moments like this. Like no matter how wild and obnoxious he gets, Steve won’t give up on him, won’t let him go. Steve keeps grabbing him, trying to kiss him, flipping over on top of him, holding onto Eddie tight enough to bruise. 

At one point, Eddie almost gets away but Steve rips his shirt dragging him back. It sends a hot shot of thrill through him, feeling how much Steve wants him so viscerally like that. Something in Eddie just needs Steve to have him and gives in, letting Steve pin him down.

It’s only when Steve’s body bears down and wedges between Eddie’s legs that he realizes he’s hard. It hurts in a good way, trapped inside his jeans with all of Steve’s warm weight bearing down on him. He can’t tell if Steve notices, all caught up in wrangling Eddie’s wrists, playful fire in his eyes as he pins them above Eddie’s head.

Eddie’s mouth falls open and he feels something slip out. Maybe it’s all the air from his lungs or maybe there’s a breathy moan laced in there too. He can’t tell over the blood rushing in his ears and the fog filling his mind. He doesn’t think Rick’s paying them any attention, though, watching tv.

Steve doesn’t stop and Eddie fucking loves him for that. He bends, finally able to seal his mouth to Eddie’s now, holding him down where he needs him. Eddie lets Steve lick open his lips, tongue dipping inside in search for the gum that Eddie forgot all about. He might’ve swallowed it by accident, but Steve’s kissing him deep enough to find it anywhere.

It’s so good. Eddie’s stomach is doing ecstatic little flips, just lying there letting Steve kiss him hard and squeeze his wrists and push his hips into Eddie’s. 

It all collides filthily in his mind, feeling wanted and trapped and taken.

Eddie doesn’t feel all the pleasure mounting until he’s already coming, wet warmth filling his jeans. His hips are moving in shallow thrusts against Steve’s before he can help it, moaning loud and long into the kiss.

Steve pulls back, both of them heaving for breath in the awkward quiet that falls over the room. It’s deafening silence for a moment, until Rick breaks it with a laugh and mumbles something about going to smoke before the door shuts behind him.

Eddie’s still foggy from the hell of an orgasm he just had, but Steve is wide eyed and wild haired above him. He’s still holding Eddie down, maybe stuck in shock, his face is flushed and Eddie can’t tell if it's from embarrassment or something else.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Stevie, I couldn’t—” Eddie starts to apologize but Steve cuts him off with an even rougher kiss from before.

Eddie smirks into it, feeling Steve rut against the wet spot on his jeans, feeling how hard he is too.

So, he’s not the only one finding out just how into this he is.

[mid-80s]

might just make a lil sumsum

Clueless, buff Steve falling into subspace during his weekly HIT cardio workout sessions without even realizing.

There's just... something about the voice of his trainer that motivates him to do more reps. His whole body's alight with the passion to reach his goals.

"A little faster, c'mon!"

"That's it, keep going... just like that. Beautiful form in the back!"

"Y'all are doing great, I'm so proud of you– two more, then you've earned yourself a break."

Sure, there comes a part when Steve's muscles are screaming in agony. He feels like collapsing on the floor, but after the initial pain, something alway seems to shift in him. A blissful wave of warmth washes over his body from head-to-toe and Boom–

Suddenly, his priorities are set straight again.

He's on the verge of giving up but then his trainer shouts a few encouraging words and some praises directed right at Steve.

"Keep pushing Steve, work those thighs, c'mon!"

It's like magic.

It's also pretty.. intense, but it's cool, really cool because he's able to push his body to its limits and really work for it.

'Gets him in the zone,' like some always say.

Little does he know that it's not even remotely the same thing they mean.

However. Steve can't quite put his finger on it, but this is the only time during the week that it happens. Nothing like this when he's lifting weights or when he's jogging on the treadmill. Not even before, with his previous cardio group.

Maybe.. shit, it's gonna sound pretty sexist – is he sexist? Fuck, he hopes not – but it only ever worked if the trainer was a man.

Really though, Steve thought his previous trainer was wonderful at her job. She just had a different style and approach – a little too strict for his liking. Less generous with jer praises. Steve was a regular in that group until it disbanded cuz she moved away but–

... it turns out, Steve loves gentle but firm more.

The new guy sometimes even gets up in his space and corrects his posture which, fuck, makes him sweat even more.

But really, anything for better results.

And since exercise gets the blood pumping, it's not unheard of for a man to get a little hard after a good session.

Steve, who shows up with impressive stamina and dedication that's enviable by many, is rock hard by the end.

Every. Single. Time.

But that's just his body, right? Nothing weird about it, and since Tommy used to have this thing too sometimes, Steve doesn't feel weird about it. It's normal. Sometimes you just gotta help a bro out in the showers after everyone else left.

Guys will be guys.

So having a boner after training is not unfamiliar to Steve. It's the inconvenient frequency of it when it's cardio day.

The more he thinks about it, the more he comes to the conclusion that the secret's in the authoritative voice.

Like... it scratches an itch he didn't know he had. Steve wants to be good. Less and less for himself, and more so he receives praise from others.

Almost like when that one time, a girl whispered 'good boy' into Steve's ears as she was bouncing on top. He came so hard he nearly blacked out.

Except, this time... it just can't be sexual.

If he really lets himself dwell on the roots of the topic, – which he'd rather not, it's dumb to question stuff that works – this whole thing? It feels strangely connected to his childhood traumas.

Anyways.

After much convincing, Eddie joins Chrissy at her cardio sessions. He tells her it's solely to scare off any gym bros who might shower her with unwanted attention.

But shit, the end couldn't have come any sooner. Eddie's drenched in sweat, his bun has come loose and his limbs feel like spaghetti.

Fuck, maybe he really should exercise more.

The view was pretty hot, so that's something at least. Not to mention, Eddie's pretty sure he's seen the trainer... around. He's a total daddy dom though, so while the man's easy on the eyes, he's not exactly Eddie's type.

His heart rate takes some time to go back to normal after all those fucking mountain climbers or whatever the fuck they were called.

Suddenly, the floor is pretty inviting to Eddie so sitting there for a good 5-10 minutes becomes inevitable, before he's able to reenter the men's changing room.

By then, many people have already left, only a few of them are still lingering by the door. How the hell everyone got their shit together so fast, Eddie doesn't know. He feels like a truck has run him over.

There's one guy, however, who seems a little... off, to Eddie.

He's sitting on the bench, elbows on his knees as he's staring at the floor with a spacy expression. He doesn't even realize that Eddie's stopped in front of him. Weird, this reminds Eddie of–

...nah, that couldn't be.

Could it?

Still, Eddie's instinctively gentle when he tries to get his attention. The man, finally after a few soft 'hey's, tilts his chin up and graces Eddie with the most gorgeous face he's ever laid eyes on.

Shit, his pupils are blown out. His lips are so pouty and–

Eddie's trying really hard to feel normal about this unfairly pretty stranger, who may or may not be neck-deep into subspace.

------

If anyone wants to continue or write a fic based off this idea, please, PLEASE, do!!! Whether here under this post or on Ao3, I'd be delighted to read, just tag me and let me know, friends ❤️

Add your thoughts and comments, I wanna explore this idea so bad

[mid-80s]

Another take it and run idea- once upon a time someone posted something with hint of this idea and I haven’t been able to forget it. So here’s a snippet- if you want to grab it make into something bigger I’d love to read it!

Before doing anything with Steve Eddie always takes off his rings, sets them on his side table. They make a little noise, each time the same, as they tumble into each other. And then Eddie slowly takes Steve apart, Steve slipping into sub space so nicely under Eddie’s hands.

One day in the kitchen Steve is working at the table and Eddie is about to start dinner, so he takes off his rings and sets them near Steve. He starts cooking, chattering away about his day. It takes a minute for him to realize Steve hasn’t responded. When he turns around, there’s Steve, sitting so pretty at the table, his hands resting gently on his thighs, his eyes glossed over as they track Eddie’s movements slowly. He’s so far gone that he barely moves when Eddie steps into his space.

“What happened baby, where’d you go?” Eddie tips Steve face up to meet his eyes, Steve swallows heavily and let’s his eyes drag to the rings sitting a foot away on the edge of the table.

And that’s how Eddie learns he accidentally Pavlov dogged Steve into sub-space at the sound of his rings being set down on a wooden surface.

[mid-80s]

Omega Steve who has never been knotted before.

He has only ever dated betas before, not really caring for alphas and they couldn’t give him that feeling of pure fullness.

But then, he meets Eddie. An alpha who’s too loud for his own good, but still surprisingly sweet and kind to Steve like no other alpha has been. And Steve?

He falls hard for the older boy and it doesn’t take long for him to start feeling slick dripping down his hole every time he even sees a glimpse of the alpha.

Steve knows Eddie smells it on him, how could he not, but the alpha doesn’t do anything.

He waits until Steve’s the first one to make the move, to kiss Eddie with so much hunger that Eddie finally lets his alpha instincts take over. He knots Steve for the first time ever and it makes the omega cry under him as he begs for the alpha to breed him.

[mid-80s]

I have never written omegaverse in my life, but since I’ve recently-ish started reading more of it:

Unpresented Eddie who never quite lost his baby fat and everyone at school always teases him because his scent, faint as it is while still young, carries definite hints of marshmallow. Just pure, sugary sweet. Everyone, including Eddie himself, is 100% sure he’ll present as an omega.

Then one day, with the additional horrifying level of happening during gym class, his scent suddenly blooms into campfire and earthiness and toasted marshmallow as he enters the preliminary stage of his presentation rut.