#thisapplepielife: subeddieweek

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @subeddieweek, day five.

Today Is Not Tomorrow

Prompt: Omegaverse/Posessive | Word Count: 2043 | Rating: E | CW: Role Playing Hints of DubCon | Tags: Long-Term Relationship, Older Steddie, Role Playing in Public, Omegaverse, Heat, Teasing, Alpha Steve, Omega Eddie, A Look at Aging, Light Hurt/Comfort, Lasting Love

Eddie sits on the barstool, and he's not wearing blockers of any kind tonight. An act of defiance. He's throwing his scent all over the place, right as he's rushing headlong into his heat, and he knows it's sweet as fuck. Cloying. He knows how he smells, even if it's hard to smell something you're around everyday. He's nearly noseblind to it after all these years, but he's not totally unaware of his own scent. 

And neither are the alphas in the bar, apparently, because they're circling like sharks smelling fresh blood in the water. No, that's just a little bit of slick and pheromones. Everybody's got 'em, what's the big fucking deal? Honestly.

Tonight, here in this bar, he's been touched, brushed against, and groped half a dozen times already. Is he asking for it, being here as his heat is ramping up? Maybe. But he still says no to each of them. And some take no for an answer. Some others growl at him, at each other.

Eddie is tired of this. He's just trying to have a beer, but he's surrounded by alpha bullshit this, alpha bullshit that. He's truly, and well over it by his age. He's not a young omega, hasn't been for a long fucking time, and he's definitely not in need of a savior, never has been. They're all knotheads, and while that sounds great, in theory, he remembers being young. Remembers how it was never what he actually wanted, once he got them between his thighs. Not really. He could never trust them enough to enjoy the act of submission that he's always longed for, so he learned to do without. He'd take care of himself on his own, before he'd drag home some random asshole alpha.

He wants to get held down and fucked, but not by any of these dickheads. He'll wind up bitten and bred, and no fucking thanks.

Not for the first time, he thinks if he were an alpha instead of an omega, he'd never have to put up with this.

He doesn't give a fuck, he can handle himself, he thinks, just a second before he's scruffed by the back of the neck, and he tenses just for a moment, before he goes limp in the alpha's grasp. Submitting, instantly.

Fucking godammit. He kind of hates himself for it. Maybe he can't handle it all on his own.

"You're coming home with me," the alpha commands, and Eddie's whole body melts into the alpha's voice, hand. It shouldn't work on him, it wouldn't, not usually, but it has in this instance. Jesus H. Christ.

Then he's tugged off his barstool, the alpha throwing a handful of bills on the bar, as he leads Eddie off, like he's a pup that needs to be manhandled into submission.

Maybe he's exactly that. 

Maybe he wants to be.

Eddie tries to get a whiff of this alpha, to see if he even likes the smell of him, but the bar is full of alphas, and they're all mixed together in an overwhelming stench.

"What makes you think you're so goddamn special?" Eddie asks, and the alpha tightens his grip on Eddie's neck, not allowing him to move, let alone run. Not that it would matter if he did try to flee, he'd be chased, he knows he would, and easily caught, he's certain.

This alpha is bigger, stronger, and adamant. Eddie can't win against any of those things.

The alpha pushes him up against the alleyway wall, face-first, shoving his knee between Eddie's legs. Pressing upwards.

"You soaking wet for me?" he asks, close to Eddie's ear.

"I think you know the answer to that, unless your nose is busted," Eddie answers, laying his head against the filthy bricks. The knee is pressed harder, higher, and Eddie's body betrays him, releasing more slick, getting ready. Sending out a blatant invitation. 

His biology, overtaking his brain.

Then the alpha spins him around, and sinks to his knees, burying his face right in Eddie's crotch, sucking in a deep breath. 

It's the filthiest thing Eddie's ever experienced, and now he's even wetter than before. Throbbing with need. Want. 

"It's not broken," the alpha says, and presses his face right up against him, even harder. Breathing deep and greedy.

"Do I even get a name, if you're gonna shove your nose in my crotch like a bad dog?" Eddie asks, reaching down and running his fingers through thick hair, pulling, just a little. 

The alpha looks up, with big, expressive eyes. 

"Alpha," he says, and Eddie glowers down at him. 

"Yeah, no," Eddie snaps. "Not happening. You're not my alpha. And even if you were, I'm not into that bullshit."

He gets growled at for his trouble, and Eddie growls back. It doesn't have the bark, and definitely none of the bite, and the alpha throws his head back and laughs.

"That's cute," he finally says, and Eddie seethes. 

"You're going home with me. And I'm gonna take what you desperately want me to have." 

Eddie can't even argue, he's floating away at the idea. His heat finally hitting in full force, making its feelings on the situation known. 

The betrayal of his own goddamn body. 

He's suddenly flushed, and so fucking hot, burning up, and he needs to be out of these clothes, so he nods, and the alpha smiles, caressing his hips, before rising back up onto his feet.

"Take me home," Eddie says, and the alpha does just that.

Eddie is writhing under the alpha, flushed with desire, rolling along with his heat. Feeling drunk on it. Needing the release. Crazy with want, panting, begging, needing. Needing more. Needing everything.

Relishing the feel of the alpha's big hands pressing his wrists to the bed, holding him down, taking. And Eddie gives. Gives this alpha everything he has. All the control, all the power.

He closes his eyes and just feels. Feels his own body, feels the alpha's cock sliding in and out, feels the knot that's forming, threatening to catch and lock them together, at any minute.

And it does.

The knot catches, and the teeth sink in, biting him hard, and Eddie comes. Clenches down on the knot he's now locked to, and comes all over his own belly at the feeling of the teeth in his neck. When the alpha finally lets go, Eddie puts his hand to his neck, pressing against the wound.

"You just go around biting everyone you meet in a bar?" Eddie snaps, but he smiles.

"Only when they belong to me," Steve says, and Eddie laughs. 

"You think I'm your property?" Eddie asks, raising his eyebrow, a question. A challenge.

"Oh no, I'm not that stupid. I'm not new here," Steve says, nuzzling his face against Eddie's neck. Licking at the wound.

And it makes Eddie smile. Because he does belong to Steve. Has, for a very long time. And Steve belongs to him, too. Steve's definitely not new here, so he's definitely not gonna let Steve get by with just saying that. It's just not how things work in their house. 

Eddie will submit, wants to, loves to, but he damn well doesn't want that commented upon like it's a goddamn given. It's his choice to make, always has been.

Even as his body makes demands.

And now that his body has finally given in, gotten what it wanted, the foggy feeling has been snatched away. Too fast. Too abrupt. It never used to be this way. 

Before, he could ride the wave of his heat for hours, for days, lost. Adrift. Steve taking care of him, such good care, being inside him, day and night. Holding him down, fucking him, loving him, and keeping his omega desires beyond sated.

Because he trusts Steve. His husband. His mate. His alpha.

His body would be filled, and loved, and fucking worshipped. And he could float off into space, indefinitely, while it was happening.

And now his body is betraying him. 

These days, after he comes one fucking time, it's like the dial on his heat is turned from eleven down to zero. From blaring heavy metal, to complete radio silence in an instance. No pleasant buzzing in his brain to be found anywhere, only the ringing in his ears, left behind with the sudden absence of it. Like he'd hadn't been lost in his heat, just minutes ago. 

It sucks.

It'll start buzzing again later, slowly picking up for round two, probably, hopefully, but the harsh change right now threatens to drag him low. 

He misses what once was.

He clutches at Steve's back. 

"Watching all those alphas approaching you, thinking they had a chance," Steve says, giving the barest roll of his hips, all he can manage while they're locked together in this way. It probably hurts Steve, but he does it anyway, and Eddie moans at the tugging sensation at his opening.

It brings him back to Steve. 

He's so full. So taken care of. So loved. 

And has been for years, decades. 

"You got jealous?" Eddie asks. 

"Always," Steve says, "they don't get to touch you. Scent you. That's mine. You're all mine."

And Steve's cock must agree, because it gives another spurt, filling Eddie even further with come. 

"Easy there, hot shot, you're old. You'll dehydrate yourself," Eddie says, and Steve laughs. 

But then Eddie tells him, voice serious, "I'm all yours." 

And Steve growls, low in his chest, possessive. 

"You better not be growling at me, sweetheart," Eddie teases, and Steve rolls it over into a purr, smiling. "That's better."

He'll submit to Steve in bed any day of the week, wants to, and feels fucking amazing when he does. But he's still Eddie, and that will never change. He's an omega, but he's his own goddamn man, out of this bed.

Luckily, Steve seems to love that about him. Has always loved that about him. 

Eddie thought he was a bad omega in his youth, and was sure he didn't give a fuck about any of it. Then, along came Steve.

He's not a bad omega, because he's Steve's perfect one. He's been told that enough, to believe it to be true.

Steve's knot eventually goes down, and then he slides out of Eddie. He's immediately down between Eddie's legs, fussing, "You okay?"

Eddie's okay, he's just getting old, and he can't take what he could at twenty or even thirty or forty. He's sure his days of getting heats are coming to an end any day now, as sporadic as they are anymore, and in some respects, he feels like, good fucking riddance.

In others, he'll miss it. Miss what it is, what it might mean, for them as a pair.

Steve's ruts still come like clockwork, and biology isn't fair.

Eddie worries that he might not even get to submit to Steve if there's no heady undercurrent telling him to, guiding him.

He worries he won't be as attractive, as alluring to Steve, once he's no longer throwing down the major pheromones. 

"Where'd you go?" Steve asks, taking a break from running his tongue all around Eddie's opening, cleaning him up. Soothing any hurts. 

"Worrying that maybe this was the last time," Eddie whispers, and squeezes his eyes shut. 

"Honey," Steve says, crawling up Eddie's body, laying on top of him, heavy and protective. Giving him the feeling of security that comes in no other way, can't.

"I'm good," he tells Steve, then smiles into Steve's neck, "You're a good alpha." 

And Steve purrs at the praise, at the love, and it rattles against Eddie's chest, soothing him. Making all his worries slip away. Eddie knows that's what Steve gets off on the most. Their love, their bond. 

And that's going nowhere. Heat, no heat. 

Nothing can change their love, their connection, and Eddie melts into the sheets, and just relaxes under Steve's body. 

"Do you want me to stay on top of you?" Steve asks, and Eddie does.

"Please," Eddie answers. Wrapping his arms around Steve's middle, squeezing him tight.

Today is not tomorrow, and it's not yesterday either, and submitting to that fact means he's just gonna stay right here. In the present. 

With Steve.

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

Notes: This was my first foray into writing omegaverse, ever. I enjoyed the new challenge, but it quickly turned into a bit of a character study on aging without my permission, lol. I don't even know if the menopause equivalent has a counterpart in omegaverse lore. Welp, it does here, I guess.

My other fics for this challenge week:

Day One Day Two Day Three Day Four Day Six Day Seven

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @subeddieweek, day two.

A Firm Touch

Prompt: First Time | Word Count: 1912 | Rating: E | CW: Reference to Past Recreational Drug Use | Tags: First Time, Established Relationship, Being Restrained, Light Praise Kink, A Bit of Subspace, Insecure Eddie, Virgin Eddie, Service Top Steve, Working Out The Kinks (Literally), Boys in Love, Just Trying to Figure Themselves Out

Eddie squirms away from Steve's grasp, again, another night fucking ruined and Steve sighs in frustration. Running his hand through his hair. He's disheveled, and Eddie wants…but he can't. It's not gonna work.

This is never gonna work, and he doesn't know why he thought it might. He just wanted it to, so goddamn bad.

The knot in Eddie's stomach grows, because he knows that Steve is getting frustrated. Not by the lack of sex, Eddie doesn't think, but more by the lack of understanding of why they aren't having sex. Eddie's been trying, then shying away, stalling and Steve's been patient, but Eddie knows he's running out of runway. 

He's being a fucking cocktease, he's pretty sure, though that wasn't the intent.

"Eddie…" Steve trails off, "what? What is it this time?" he asks, hands finding his hips. The question comes across harsher than his voice actually sounds, but he's staring at Eddie in a way Eddie hates. He doesn't want to be looked at, stared at, perceived, known. 

Eddie shrugs, and Steve lets out a breath that's pure annoyance. Like something he'd aim at the kids when they are fraying his nerves. Eddie doesn't want that sound pointed in his direction, it makes him feel horrible. Worthless. 

Finally, Steve speaks again, "I just. I can't read your signals. They're all over the fucking place. Do you not want this? Or not with me? What? Just, what? Tell me," Steve pleads, and it's tinged with self-doubt, and maybe a little anger, and it makes Eddie withdraw further. Steve's got his own baggage, and Eddie knows it. But Eddie can't just say these things, can't ask for them.

So, Eddie clams up.

Because the other option is to jump right in, ready for a full fight. And he doesn't want to do that, so he just stays silent.

"Okay, I'll go," Steve says, and Eddie doesn't want him to go. But he doesn't know how to get him to stay. 

"Don't go," Eddie says, barely audible, squeezing his hands into fists so hard that his short nails are digging into his palms.

"Then tell me, and I'll do whatever you want," Steve says, soft, worried. Begging a little. "I can't keep guessing wrong. It's killing me."

"I'm just not built like you, Harrington," Eddie finally says. Hoping that will end the discussion for one more night. Maybe Steve will still stay, and give Eddie a little more time to figure his shit out.

"What do you mean by that?" Steve asks, his brow furrowed, as he's folding his hands in his lap.

"Nothing."

"It's not nothing," Steve answers, "obviously."

Eddie is annoyed, frustrated. But he knows he's not gonna get anywhere with soft, sweet Steve Harrington running his hands all over him, like he's made of glass. Been there, done that. And it never ends in anything other than in frustration. There's something broken in him, and Steve would never understand that. 

"Eddie, I-" 

"You don't want me. You don't want what I want. What I need." 

"What do you need, Eddie?" Steve asks, putting his hands on Eddie's arms, gently.

Eddie's exhausted, and he finally snaps, "I need you to hold me down. I need you to handcuff me and…" he trails off when he sees Steve's face. "I need a firm touch. A firm hand. To get off." 

"Oh," Steve says, soft and shocked. Disgusted, probably. 

Eddie looks down. 

And then Steve's big, warm hand is on his thigh. Pressing down. Firmly. 

"I can't, like, hit you," Steve says, face way too earnest.

"I don't need you to hit me," Eddie says with a small smile. He wouldn't be opposed, but if Steve won't get off on it, there's no way.

"But I can be firm. Well, I can try. I want to try." 

Of course he does, because Steve Harrington always jumps in with both feet. Eddie's seen it in action. He just never expected to see it here, in the bedroom. He just thought he'd be able to get over it, whatever hang up he has, but it hasn't happened. 

"Okay, Steve, you can try. If you don't like it, you say so." 

"It's you," Steve says with a grin, "I think I'll like it just fine." 

Eddie just smiles at him, embarrassed, but hopeful.

"Tell me what you like, what your previous sexual partners have done for you that worked," Steve says, like he's ready to take mental notes.

Eddie laughs, shaking his head, "No previous sexual partners. But I'm flattered that you think that's a possibility."

"Then how do you know…?" Steve trails off.

"I still know how I feel. I know how I get off, alone," Eddie answers.

And that…how, is not very easy, never has been. At least not alone.

"Of course. Of course you do," Steve says, like he should have known that. Eddie doesn't think that's a thing that most guys ever contemplate. Eddie imagines Steve can get off easily, without even thinking about it. 

A few quick tugs, thinking about a pretty girl, or a cute guy, and that's all it takes. Eddie wishes it were that simple. He's trying to not feel embarrassed. It's Steve, and he's gotten used to the fact that he can tell Steve anything. 

And if he wants this to work, and he does, then this conversation has to happen.

"Okay, where do we start?" Steve asks, sounding chipper, and ready to go. To act. Now that they've got even a hint of a plan. Eddie cannot believe how brave he is. He's a take-charge kinda guy, maybe this will come naturally to him.

Eddie knows asking Steve to start with handcuffs is crazy, and he's never even been in them before, couldn't do it on his own, and as much as he wants to be, that's for later. Hopefully. Someday, maybe. So, he just lays face down on the bed. 

"Can you just…hold me down, maybe? Restrain me? With your hands?" Eddie asks.

"Yes," Steve says, like he's one-hundred percent certain that's something he can do, and then rolls him over, with a confidence that really works on Eddie. 

Steve's got big hands, hands Eddie has fantasized about on more than one occasion. 

And he grabs both of Eddie's wrists in one of his, and pins them above Eddie's head, pressing them into the pillow.

They aren't even undressed, but Steve crawls on top of him. Sitting on his thighs. 

"This good?" Steve asks, and Eddie nods. It's good.

He's clearly having to stretch to hold Eddie like that, so Eddie isn't surprised when Steve scoots up his body, until he's off his thighs, until they are crotch to crotch, and Steve doesn't shy away from that. He just pushes down against him, as he presses on his wrists even harder now that he has a better angle.

Steve's hard, and Eddie still isn't. Maybe this won't work. Maybe he's not meant to have anything as good as Steve.

But Steve keeps grinding down, over and over, as he squeezes Eddie's wrists. Then, Steve scoots up further, his hard cock pressing into Eddie's belly as Steve leans over him, his chest right over Eddie's face, and Eddie feels boxed in, Steve's shirt hanging down, brushing against his nose. The scent of Steve flooding Eddie's nostrils with every movement Steve's body makes. Eddie feels hidden. Secure. Safe. And he closes his eyes and just feels it all, fully. 

Enjoys.

When Steve shifts again, Eddie realizes he's hard. He doesn't know when that happened, but it feels so good. Steve is still rutting against him, and the pressure of him holding him to the bed feels like it's dug a hook into Eddie's center, and now there's an anchor pulling him down into the most amazing place he's ever been.

He feels drunk. He feels like he's taken the perfect amount of K, and now he's gently slipping into a hole.

Steve's not really doing much of anything, Eddie knows it's simple, but whatever Steve is doing is perfect. It's working.

Then, Steve leans forward, putting more weight on Eddie's wrists, holding them in place as he nearly lays on top of Eddie fully. Leaning most of his weight into it. Bringing them back together, hard cock pressed to hard cock. Still rolling his hips, grinding against him in slow, deliberate circles.

And even as Steve pushes all the air out of his lungs, Eddie feels like he can breathe, finally.

Steve's heavier than he looks, and Eddie is lost in the security he feels being under Steve.

He never even knew to dream about this, but here it is, his wildest dreams coming true at the hands of Steve Harrington.

"You feel so good under me," Steve says close to Eddie's ear, "you're being so good. Getting hard, just for me."

Eddie moans. 

"That's good," Steve says again, "are you ready for me to let you go? Do you want me to touch you?"

Eddie shakes his head no, then makes his request, "Lay on me."

And Steve lowers his whole body to Eddie's, pressing him into the mattress. Chest to chest, crotch to crotch. Eddie can feel every point of contact, every point of pressure, and it's good. So good.

His wrists are still tight in Steve's grasp, but now he feels like his whole body is being held in the same way. Safe. Secure.

Steve rolls his hips, one more time, and Eddie attempts to lift up his hips, tries to get his ass off the bed, but he can't, and he comes in his jeans. Steve following him over the edge.

Tears leak out of Eddie's eyes, and his breathing is shallow with Steve on top of him, but he's happy, and relieved, and kind of boneless. Steve finally shifts so he can hold Eddie's wrists in one hand instead of two, lighter now, and brushes the fingers of his open hand against Eddie's cheek. Face near Eddie's, grounding him.

"Whenever you're ready, tell me what you need. What to do," Steve whispers, and Eddie nods.

Eddie finally felt ready for Steve to let him go, so Steve's shifted so he's laying beside him, not on him, kissing his face, his neck, taking care of him like he always does. Just in a new way now. When Eddie pictured submitting, in the abstract, he was expecting punishment. Pain. To be used, and probably discarded. Thought that's what he wanted. Rough, hard, mean. He thought he needed to be hurt, or tortured, just a little.

And maybe he still does.

But Steve Harrington is none of those things, and his style of taking control isn't either. Steve's a take-charge kind of guy, but there's a softness there that Eddie never wants to see go away, honestly. 

"Was that okay?" Steve asks, and he looks so fucking nervous.

"More than," Eddie says, looking right in his eyes, "thank you."

"So, the handcuffs?" Steve asks, hint of a grin pulling at his lip.

"Wishful thinking," Eddie admits. Then raises his eyebrows, "Why? You interested?"

"For sure. Can we ease into it?" Steve asks, wrapping his arm around Eddie's waist, holding him tight, still so tight, and Eddie's sure he'll be asleep in minutes, feeling this comfortable.

This secure.

This safe.

This loved.

"Definitely," Eddie says, and closes his eyes, turning his face towards Steve's, nuzzling into him. Letting himself be held, not only down, but close.

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

Notes: It was harder to write a first time (for both!) and have them have super defined roles. They're figuring their shit out. Together. And I like think Service Top Steve can grow into Pleasure Dom Steve, but not right out of the gate.

My other fics for this challenge week:

Day One Day Three Day Four Day Five Day Six Day Seven

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @subeddieweek, day seven.

Where Would I Go?

Prompt: Praise Kink/Subdrop | Word Count: 1528 | Rating: E | CW: Handcuffs, Biting | Tags: Established Relationship, Sub Eddie Munson, Sensory Deprivation, Softness, Praise Kink, Subspace, Subdrop, Aftercare, Boys in Love

Eddie is being good. So good. Hands on his own thighs, not touching, even if that's all he wants to do.

Steve is stripping his own cock, fisting it right in front of Eddie, and Eddie can only watch.

Because he wants to be good. 

"Close your eyes," Steve asks, and Eddie whines, but complies, closing his eyes.

Now, he can only hear the sounds of Steve's slick hand moving. And Steve is more than aware of what he's doing, because he's added a little heavier breathing into the mix. Some soft moans, and Eddie's dick is straining, needing, wanting, listening to this perfect soundtrack.

"You gonna be a good boy if I let you look?" Steve asks.

Eddie moans and nods at the mere idea of it, "Yes."

"Really, you can be good?"

"So good," Eddie promises, eyes still shut.

"I'm not convinced," Steve says, and Eddie whimpers. "Convince me."

Eddie straightens up on his knees, like he's paying better attention. Keeps his eyes closed, as instructed, and then opens his mouth, an offer.

"Not convincing enough," Steve says, "be good for me."

Eddie isn't sure how to do that, "How?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Steve says, and puts his hands under Eddie's armpits, helping him stand. Eddie shuffles along, blind, until he bumps up against the bed.

Steve grabs his hips, and helps Eddie climb up onto it, and settles him back against the headboard. 

"Hand," Steve says, and Eddie immediately gives him his left hand.

Steve pulls it to the side, and Eddie feels the hard metal, as he ratchets down the cuff and hears the light clinking of metal on metal as he attaches the other end of the handcuffs to the metal bars of the headboard.

"Two?" Steve asks, and Eddie wants to be good, so he offers up his other hand, and Steve does the same on the other side, stringing him up.

"Look at you," Steve says.

Eddie doesn't look, but he'd loved to. Wants to see what he looks like.

Steve's mouth is ghosting against Eddie's ear, "So pretty. Such a good, pretty boy."

And Eddie's head buzzes at the words as they stick to his ribs, his brain, his heart, helping him float away. Laying all his trust in Steve. He doesn't need to see. Doesn't need to grasp.

He just needs to ride the wave Steve's offered him.

Eddie hangs his head back, baring his throat and Steve takes him up on the offer, biting down, and Eddie moans, low in his throat. 

"Thank you," Eddie says, and Steve kisses along his jaw. 

Then Steve slips the headphones over his ears. They are big, bulky, and the cord is dangling, but they do block out a lot of the noise. All he can hear is the buzzing in his own head.

And then Steve's hands are all over his body, touching soft, touching hard, squeezing, licking, biting, sucking.

He's gonna have hickeys all over his thighs, but he can barely feel it. He's too far gone, the pain too far away, off in the distance. An abstract now, only the whisper of it trying to reach his brain, but it can't.

He's closed off from the world. All he knows, all he feels, is Steve.

And he lets himself float.

"You with me?" Steve asks, cupping Eddie's cheek, and Eddie lulls his head into Steve's hand.

"Eddie, open your eyes and look at me," Steve says, and Eddie does. It's dark in the room, but he still squints because it feels too bright. Too everything, because Eddie's pupils have blown-wide, and he feels like he's still adrift. Lost at sea.

"Are you okay?" Steve asks.

"Yeah," Eddie slurs, and his tongue is too big for his mouth. Like he can't form the words anymore.

"You're a good boy, so good. Relaxing for me, then letting me in," Steve says, because Eddie always responds well to chatter. He likes it.

Usually, though, he gives some back. But he can't seem to find the words.

Not tonight, tonight he's just drifting far from the shore. But he feels happy, blissed out, and Steve keeps petting him. Soft and gentle. 

"Eddie? Honey?" Steve says, and Eddie looks at him. Steve cups his cheeks with both hands, "Hi. You back with me?"

"Where would I go?" Eddie asks, and Steve smiles, leaning down to nuzzle his cheek.

"I think you've dropped," Steve answers. "Drink this."

Eddie does, taking a long pull of the orange juice in the glass. It's the best thing he's ever tasted.

Dropped? Like subdrop? Eddie's never even been in subspace before, so that seems highly unlikely. He feels subby, wants to submit, does, but he's never experienced that.

"Yeah, honey, are you okay?" Steve asks, and Eddie mentally runs over his body, checking in to find out.

Eddie feels tired, exhausted really, that floaty feeling of disappearing he'd felt has drained him, but he smiles, "Yeah."

"Everything okay? Too much? Too far?" Steve asks.

"What'dya mean?" Eddie drawls, lolling his head to look at Steve. "I'm cold."

"Let me warm you up," Steve says, and he nudges Eddie forward so he can slide behind his back. He's uncuffed. He hadn't even realized. Handcuffs gone, earphones gone, eyes open. It's just him. And Steve.

And Steve's grabbing the comforter and pulling it up to Eddie's chin, wrapping his arm around him, tight.

"Better?" Steve asks, and Eddie relaxes against Steve's solid body. So much better.

"Do you want to sleep? You want me to hold you?" Steve asks, and Eddie can't make any decisions right now.

It's too hard, and he feels overwhelmed by being asked all these questions. He must not have done it right if Steve is so unsure, if Steve needs to ask him all these things. He didn't do good. He wasn't a good boy. 

"Eddie," Steve says, slightly firmer, "take a breath."

And Eddie realizes he's breathing fast, his chest rising and falling, rapidly.

He turns his head so he can rest his forehead against Steve's neck, pressing in close. 

"You did so good, you were perfect," Steve says, and Eddie tries to take those words. Keep them.

It's hard. He feels on edge, low, in a way he's never felt before.

"Can I sleep?" Eddie asks.

"Yes, sleep. I'll be right here," Steve says, tightening his arms around Eddie's middle, holding him close, safe and secure.

And Eddie gives in to the exhaustion.

Eddie blinks awake, warm and loved. 

"Hi," Steve says, soft and quiet in his ear, and Eddie smiles at the sound. 

"Hi," he answers back.

"Feeling better?" Steve asks, not letting him go.

"Definitely," Eddie says, laying the back of his head against Steve's shoulder.

Steve's stroking his chest, his stomach, and it feels nice. 

And then his stomach growls, and they both laugh. 

"Let's get you something to eat," Steve says, patting him, and Eddie agrees, crawling out of bed. "Take a shower, and I'll get something made for you."

Eddie nods, taking Steve up on the offer.

Eddie stands under the spray, and he feels off. Not bad, but off. Different. He shakes the water out of his hair like a dog, and laughs. Entertaining himself. He thinks he did drop, which, unexpected. He doesn't feel bad now, though, just a little tired, still. Like he could sleep several more hours. Might, after he eats. 

He just doesn't remember much about what happened. He was there, and now he's here. That part, he's not sure he loves. He wants to be present, wants to feel everything that Steve does.

Looking down, and there's the start of bruises forming on his thighs, his chest. Hickeys, and bite marks. Eddie runs his fingers over the deepest indention, feeling the impression of each of Steve's teeth, branding his skin. 

And Eddie barely remembers getting them, and that makes him feel a little sad again. But, overall, he's good.

When Eddie come out in his robe, Steve's standing at the stove, stirring something in a skillet that smells fucking awesome, and Eddie watches from the kitchen bar, sipping on a glass of water. Rehydrating, as Steve demanded with a grin.

Then, Steve's walking over with the skillet in hand, and Eddie leans back from the empty plate sitting in front of him, letting Steve scrape a heaping pile of food onto his plate.

"Thank you," Eddie says, and picks up his fork, digging in. It's some sort of taco casserole, he thinks, and it's really good for something Steve's thrown together in the middle of the night. 

Steve puts some on his own plate, and then comes around the counter to sit next to him.

Picking up his own fork, and working his hand under Eddie's robe to find bare skin, resting his free hand on Eddie's thigh. It's nothing, but somehow everything, and Eddie loves him. Everything about him, and he can't stop the affection from exploding in his chest.

Eddie covers Steve's hand with his own, and looks over at him and smiles.

Steve smiles back, and then winks.

And Eddie laughs, deep from his chest, feeling light. Loved.

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

This is my last entry for the week-long event, and if you want see my other fics for the other days, they can all be found in this tag.

A couple of my fics for the event were filtered out and not included in the subeddieweek tag, as well as my own tag for the event. I must have been too dirty those days, I guess, lol.

So, here's everything else of mine for the week:

Day One Day Two Day Three Day Four Day Five Day Six

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @subeddieweek, day three.

Menace to Society

Prompt: Brat/Wet/Choking | Word Count: 2556 | Rating: E | CW: Gagging | Tags: Established Relationship, Teasing, Taunting, Bratty Sub Eddie, A Bit of Orgasm Denial, Choking (on Cock), Light Biting, Light Spanking, Rimming, Unprotected Sex

He's a nuisance. A little shithead. A menace to society and Steve's life, as a whole. 

And Steve wouldn't have it any other way. 

Eddie is dripping water all over the hardwood floors of the bedroom as he stands in front of the closet, totally naked. His wet hair is dripping down his back, and he has to be freezing cold. The fan is whirring overhead, the window AC blowing full blast. But Steve just watches, waiting to see how long the little brat can hold out. 

He's pretty sure Eddie didn't even attempt to ghost a towel over himself, let alone dry off. 

Flicking through the shirts, Eddie's acting like he's never seen any of them before. Like, this is a brand new wardrobe and not his same old, ratty ass clothes that he refuses to replace, like, ever.

Steve waits. And Eddie stalls. 

He finally selects a plain black shirt, and pulls it over his head and slides on a pair of red plaid boxers. They're both clinging to his wet skin, and it can't be comfortable. But Steve says nothing, not even when Eddie slides into bed, his cold, wet hair soaking into the pillow, not even when he slides right up against Steve, pushing his face into Steve's neck. 

This cold, wet, rat of a man. 

And he's all Steve's. 

"You're a little brat," Steve says, and he can feel Eddie's smile against his skin, pressed against his pulse point. He's sure it's hammering away, giving away that he's not exactly as unaffected as he hopes he seems.

"And what are you gonna do about that?" Eddie asks, licking a wet stripe towards Steve's ear. 

"If you want something from me, all you have to do is ask." 

"Where's the fun in that?" Eddie questions, and Steve laughs. He's not sure how he's the boss here, he doesn't feel like he's the boss of anything that happens in their house. 

Long, long ago he was yanked off his feet by the living, breathing tornado that shares his bed. And he knew he could either ride out the storm, or take cover.

And he'll ride out the storm, always.

Eddie leans in and bites him hard on the neck, and it's his cue to act. He knows it, so he manhandles Eddie off him, and over onto his knees, until he's draped over his lap and draws back his hand and smacks Eddie on the ass. Once, twice, three times, a little harder with each blow.

Eddie just laughs. 

"Tickles," Eddie mumbles into the pillow. 

So, Steve strikes him again. Harder.

Then yanks on the damp boxers, wrestling them off Eddie, and pushing his t-shirt up his back. 

And Steve finds that Eddie has clearly worked himself open in the shower, despite knowing how much Steve likes to do it himself. 

"You disobeyed me," Steve says, spanking him again, then pressing his thumb against Eddie's stretched hole. 

"Well, if you'd be a little more competent at the job," Eddie says, and Steve grips his hip. 

"Hey," Steve says, firm, unyielding. It's effective, and the tone is all Eddie needs to change directions and back off. To mind. Steve's made it clear he doesn't like to be degraded or shamed, doesn't like to feel like he's bad at things, like he's bullshit, and Eddie knows better, even if he's being a fucking brat right now.

"Too far, sorry," Eddie says, and he reaches back to pet Steve's hand. 

"That's what I thought," Steve says, dumping Eddie onto the bed, moving to stand in front of Eddie. He tugs down his own underwear, just over his ass and palms his dick. 

Then he crooks his finger at Eddie, beckoning him closer.

"On your knees. Hands behind your back." 

Eddie whines, "But I'm ready…"

"And you'll still be ready when I am," Steve says firmly, pointing at the floor, "on your knees."

Eddie slides off the bed, and does as he's been told, but has a bitchy look on his face the entire time. It's a big job, but Steve will try to fix that attitude, so he grabs Eddie's cheeks between his fingers, pinching, forcing him to open up his mouth. Demanding that he lowers his jaw. 

He does, and Steve pats him on the cheek, softly, "That's my good boy. So docile, so giving, such a soft boy."

Steve's paying him back, even if Steve knows him well enough to know this won't rile him. Eddie wants to submit, even if he isn't exactly docile. Isn't soft. And doesn't want to be. 

When he lets go, Eddie is still sitting there, his mouth open. Waiting. Waiting. Eyes hooded.

Steve palms his own dick, stroking the length of himself, right at Eddie's eye level. Making him watch. 

Eddie sticks out his tongue, and Steve grins at him, can't help it, but still tells him, "You're a goddamn brat." 

And Eddie clamps his mouth shut, defiant. 

Loving Eddie, is living with constant consented to chaos.

Steve does nothing, just keeps stroking his own cock, lazily. Nothing works better on Eddie's bratty bad attitude than simply ignoring him. Lack of attention, that's what gets him to shape up.

So, Steve fists his own dick, and closes his eyes, tilting his head back. Long, smooth strokes, showing that he can please himself. That he doesn't need Eddie. That he can do this without any of his input.

Steve knows the silence won't last, can't. Eddie'll get jealous of Steve's own hand. He'll get too impatient. Steve's not wrong.

"Well, are you gonna do anything about it?" Eddie snaps.

Steve grins, wicked, opening his eyes as he leans down to get closer to Eddie's face.

"Of course I am. I was just waiting to see how big of a hole you were planning on digging for yourself, first."

Eddie's jaw drops back down, mouth open and pliant. Willing and waiting. Not wanting to be left out.

And that's more like it.

Steve rewards him for it by sliding the head of his cock against Eddie's bottom lip, then the tip of his tongue, before sliding in, in, in. Bumping the back of Eddie's throat. 

Eddie gags, he always does, and Steve's instinct is still to pull out. Even after all this time. Even after Eddie has told him not to, again and again. And Eddie must know that, must feel it happening, Steve withdrawing, so Eddie disobeys the order he was given and takes one hand out from behind his back, grabbing a handful of Steve's ass, pulling him in even further into his mouth. 

His cock sliding into Eddie's throat deeper than before, gagging him even worse.

Steve buries his hand in Eddie's hair, close to the scalp, and pulls him backwards. Off his dick completely. And Eddie makes a choked noise at the loss, but lets go of Steve's ass, and puts his hand back behind his back where it belongs. But he looks up at Steve with wet, betrayed eyes.

Steve brushes his thumb against Eddie's forehead, and Eddie nods. Just ever so slightly. 

He's okay, just pouting. 

"Do I need to hog-tie you and set you in cement? Or can you behave for once in your goddamn life?" Steve asks, and Eddie offers up his wrists, more belligerence than an actual offering, and Steve ignores him. "Behind. Your. Back," Steve repeats slowly, and Eddie puts them back where they belong.

Eddie nods, lowering his eyes, finally submitting.

So, Steve presses back in. Pressing, pushing until Eddie's eyes are watering more. Big and shining with unshed tears, but locked in on Steve's. Unwavering. 

Begging him, silently. 

Pupils blown wide, as he's getting lost in the scene, and it's a look Steve adores to get out of him.

So, Steve gives him what he wants, and bottoms out, choking him. He holds his cock in Eddie's throat for a few breaths. 

Then pulls out. Eddie gasps for air, just for a second, then opens his mouth for more. 

Steve gives him more. Over and over, until he's ready to torment Eddie further. Or, well, until Eddie's ready to be tormented further, seems more accurate. Steve's in charge, but this is always, will always, be about Eddie and his wants. His needs.

How they get there will be in Steve's hands, but the end game has always been clear to Steve. Make Eddie happy, even if he has to torture that happiness out of him, inch by inch, squeeze by squeeze.

"I'm gonna come," Steve tells him, "right down your throat."

Eddie whines, and attempts to shake his head no.

"Are you telling me no? Are you the boss of me?" 

Eddie whines again, shaking his head.

"All that work, and for what? Nothing," Steve says. "What'd you use? Your fingers? A toy? Hidden away, stretching yourself open, unable to wait for me to take care of you."

Eddie can't answer, not with Steve's cock in his throat. 

"Yeah, like that," Steve says, and then grips the back of Eddie's head. 

Eddie whines.

"Here it comes," Steve tells him, and presses as far in as he can. Eddie's nose is buried in his pubes, taking it. 

He doesn't come, never planned to, but he jerks his hips and groans like he has, and when he pulls out, Eddie swallows like he did. Giving him the big, sad doe eyes as he does it. Really laying on the patheticness.

Steve tucks his still hard dick back into his underwear, like this over. Because Eddie likes that. Likes to feel denied. Even as he whines, and kicks up a fuss, he is getting off on it. Steve knows he is. 

So, Steve crawls in bed, and Eddie follows. Steve lays his head back on his cold, wet pillow and sighs, like he's settling in for the night. 

And Eddie curls up right next to him, settling against his body. 

Steve reaches up and pets Eddie's hair, leaning over to kiss him on the head. 

"You're perfect," Steve says. 

Eddie doesn't miss a beat, "I know." 

Steve laughs. 

And Eddie grins. 

"You gonna be good for me a little bit longer?" Steve asks, and Eddie nods, adamant.

Eddie is bent over on his knees, and Steve is caressing his skin. Worshiping him. Everything about him. 

Before Eddie, before this life he loves, Steve hadn't thought about being in charge in a long time, his king's crown long thrown away with flourish and good fucking riddance. But Eddie wants Steve to drive. Even when he's being a little brat. He's still begging for Steve to take charge. To lay a firm hand against his body, guiding him. 

Steve never used to feel comfortable being in control of anything, not really, not even in his King Steve days. But he's learned to enjoy it, to do this with Eddie. Would do anything for Eddie.

He's slicked up his dick, and made sure Eddie is actually ready, and he is, before pressing inside. 

Eddie makes the most beautiful sound Steve's ever heard. A happy whine, and Steve thinks he's done good. Done right by Eddie. 

And that's all he ever wants to do. 

Make him happy. No matter what that entails. 

Even that comes from making him suffer, just a little bit, first.

"Don't you even think about coming before me," Steve demands, and Eddie whines about that, too.

Steve presses his fingers into Eddie's hips as he fucks him, and Eddie is finally behaving now that he's gotten exactly what he wanted. Head hung low, relaxed in his total submission.

That won't do. Not at all.

"What? Nothing to say now? No running commentary?" Steve goads.

Eddie says nothing, and Steve's not sure he can right now.

But he squeezes down on Steve's dick, and it makes Steve smile. He rubs his hip bone, thumbing the sharp point of it. 

"C'mon, it's the closest thing I get to hearing a sports play-by-play these days." 

Eddie scoffs, and Steve is baiting him. He watches sports all the time, much to Eddie's pissing and moaning. 

"This is entrapment, Harrington," Eddie finally breathes out. 

It is. It definitely is.

"I think you like it when I'm bratty," Eddie adds, his forehead resting against the mattress, his voice a little muffled.

Steve smiles, where Eddie can't see, "Lies." 

He feels so good, open and slick, and Steve fucks him with long, hard strokes. Well practiced, after so many years together. Eddie's so fucking wet, he must have used an overabundance of lube.

Steve shifts his hips, changing his angle, and works over Eddie's prostate. Over and over, with precision, trying to shove Eddie to the precipice without toppling him over it. He wants Eddie to feel like he's gonna fail, but not actually fail. 

Eddie whines, hanging his head, loose and limp. Finally, completely pliant. Trusting Steve.

And Steve keeps him there, dangling on the edge. Brushing past his prostate on every third stroke, then every fifth, every tenth. Backing off as he reads Eddie's body language. Eddie's loose, basically melted, but Steve can still tell. Can still read him like an open book. He knows everything there is to know about Eddie Munson.

It's the hardest he's ever studied in his whole life.

And Steve knows that Eddie's gonna come, soon.

So, Steve lets go of his own control, and shoves right into Eddie's prostate one more time, dick jerking as he empties himself into Eddie and Eddie whines, coming untouched all over the sheets below.

After Steve, as directed, like a good fucking boy.

Steve pulls out, and slaps him on the ass one more time, but this time in a good game sort of way, and Eddie laughs, wet and amused. 

"I have no bones, my bones have gone," Eddie says, collapsing to the sheets, laying in his own wet spot and not giving a flying fuck. 

Steve will just have to clean him up. Take care of him. So, Steve rubs his back, and then presses his thumb against Eddie hole. Loose and wet, so fucking wet.

Steve leans down and runs his tongue over it, flat and soothing, and Eddie sighs, content, "That feels good."

Steve rubs his hand on Eddie's ass cheek, and Eddie tries to spread his legs further, as Steve presses his tongue to him, over and over, cleaning him up, soothing him. 

And then Eddie is finally quiet, finally still. Because he's fallen asleep.

Steve will have to move him, have to clean up the bed, but for now, he just rests his cheek against Eddie's bare side, throwing his arm over Eddie's damp thighs, now wet with sweat instead of water from the shower, and closes his eyes.

And smiles.

Steve does like it. The brattiness. Lives for it, honestly. Longs for that spark in Eddie's eyes, asking, begging, pleading, trusting Steve to do something about it. Trusting Steve to do so many things that Eddie will love, even if he pretends he doesn't, the whole goddamn way.

That is, until Eddie is finally settled and still, satisfied, just like he is in this very moment. Lightly snoring, a sound that is music to Steve's ears. Background noise that means he's home.

And Steve presses his lips to Eddie's skin, loving on him a little bit more.

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

My other fics for this challenge week:

Day One Day Two Day Four Day Five Day Six Day Seven

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @subeddieweek, day one.

I'm Only One Man

Prompt: Manhandling | Word Count: 2214 | Rating: E | CW: Light DubCon Kink Play | Tags: Manhandling, Fake First Time Scene, Established Relationship, Light Praise Kink, Unprotected Sex, Soft!Dom Steve, Bratty!Sub Eddie, Boys in Love

"Well, come on then, if you think you're man enough, big boy," Eddie says, sarcastic and snarky, and he has a brief flash of regret the moment it leaves his lips. Because Steve's eyes darken, indicating the sudden arrival of a brand new storm brewing on the horizon. 

It's intense, and enticing.

Eddie wants that, he's always wanted that, and now Steve Harrington is toe-to-toe with him, looking like he just might give it to him. 

Jesus H. Christ.

Eddie's cock throbs in his jeans at the prospect of Steve taking charge of him, and he wants. 

"What'd you say?" Steve asks, low and pointed.

Eddie wants to get on his knees, right here in his own backyard, but he's too belligerent to let himself do it. Always fighting against what he wants most. Eddie wants to kneel before Zod, but he won't, so he pushes back even harder against it. Always his own worst enemy. 

If Steve thinks he can tame him, Eddie'll damn well enjoy watching him try.

"You heard me," Eddie answers, trying to sound more blasé than he feels.

Eddie knows Steve's definitely man enough, and the way Steve's hand shoots out, snatching Eddie's wrist, verifies it. The bolt of lightning that shimmers and sizzles down Eddie's spine, sends an intense wave of want pooling in his groin. A rush of endorphins all through his brain, screaming right, right, right, do it, do it, do it.

He lets out an involuntary noise, from deep in his throat. 

"Want to try that again?" Steve asks, slow and steady, eyes locked on Eddie’s. Unwavering. Challenging. 

Eddie does.

"I said, if you think you're man enough, big boy," Eddie repeats, firm, defiant. Pitching his voice even lower than it already is, because he's not about to back down from a challenge. Especially not when he's getting exactly what he wants.

"Okay," Steve says, squeezing his wrist, and it's the only warning Eddie gets before Steve has twisted his arm behind him, turning him around, frog marching him across the yard. Steve's knee pressed into Eddie's ass, while still pinning his arm behind his back. Making it hard for Eddie to walk normally. 

Eddie doesn't care, he's happy to shuffle along like a fool, right up until Steve gets him to the first step leading up to the back porch. Then he stops.

"Up," Steve demands. 

Eddie isn't going up. He doesn't budge. 

"Fine," Steve says, spinning him, and Eddie doesn't even have time to react before he's slung over Steve's shoulder, dangling. 

"Fucking hell, Harrington," Eddie says, as Steve climbs the steps with ease, as if he's not even struggling to manhandle and carry Eddie into the house like he weighs nothing, like this is no challenge, or hardship. 

Eddie likes it. Eddie really likes it.

And his dick likes it more than he does, even, and he's sure Steve can feel it poking him in the collar bone, but he says nothing to indicate that. So Eddie grinds down, as best he can. Leaning into it. He might not be able to take Steve on physically, but he can damn sure make Steve uncomfortable.

So, Eddie dangles, pressing his crotch into Steve's chest as Steve stomps through the back door, through the kitchen, and Eddie's sure he's about to get dumped on the couch unceremoniously. 

He isn't.

Steve goes right on through the living room, and walks to the far end of the hall, kicking open the already ajar door to Eddie's bedroom. 

The bed is a mess, because Eddie never makes it, and Steve tosses him onto it, hard. Eddie bounces on his knees, before the momentum has him tumbling forward, unable to catch himself before he's facedown and prone in the pooled sheets. It wasn't graceful, and certainly not very sexy, but he doesn't give a fuck.

It was hot.

He wants to ask Steve to do it again.

And Eddie looks back over his shoulder, expecting to see Steve's back as he leaves.

Steve's not leaving. Holy shit.

Instead, Steve's pulling his belt out of his belt loops, and Eddie flushes hot. Is Steve gonna spank him with his belt? God, Eddie hopes so. But, no, Steve's moved on. Belt thrown to the ground, and now he's popping open the button on his jeans, and sliding down the zipper.

Eddie feels like he can hear every metal tooth slide and grind as it goes down, even from halfway across the room.

And Eddie's dick throbs between his legs, begging to be released from the confines of his underwear, his jeans. They're too tight, and he needs to be freed of them.

He reaches a hand towards his cock, but Steve's voice rings out, sharp and firm, "No." 

Eddie whines, but puts his hand back flat on the mattress, and then lays his head down, yielding. He feels the rush of warmth spreading through him as he does. He can be good. He wants to be good. 

He watches, face pressed to the sheets, as Steve shoves his jeans down, underwear going with them, and then he pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. He's naked, totally, and Eddie's just facedown on his bed, fully dressed, cock so hard he could hammer nails, staring, like a horny, dumbstruck fool.

Steve's cock is big, even soft, and looks beautiful hanging heavy between his thighs. Dark thatch of hair doing nothing to hide what he has to offer, and Eddie is so fucking turned on by Steve's blatant display of control. 

Over his own body.

Over Eddie.

And Eddie feels floaty, and boneless, just watching. Taking it all in. 

He really wants to take it all in.

But he's a little surprised when Steve reaches for him, and forces him over onto his back, working to pull off Eddie's shoes. Throwing them over his shoulders, sneakers hitting the ground, bouncing away. His socks follow. Then Steve's yanking, tugging, bullying Eddie's jeans off his legs and Eddie just lays there, letting him do whatever he wants.

He's just along for the ride. The nice, nice ride.

At least Eddie's getting some friction on his dick, as Steve struggles to undress him. 

Once his legs are free of his jeans, he allows Steve to yank on his boxers, taking them, too. 

Eddie's naked from the waist down, still in his shirt and leather jacket, and Steve doesn't seem to care. Just grabs a fist full of his shirt, and yanks him upright, until he's seated.

"You think you can do anything about this?" Steve asks, his soft dick laying against his own large palm. Presenting it to Eddie, as if he's showing Eddie what he is, or isn't, doing for him. Where he's failing. And Eddie wants to do better. Can. Will.

Eddie nods, and opens his mouth. 

Steve feeds his soft cock into Eddie's waiting mouth, using one hand to press it against Eddie's tongue, the other gripping the back of Eddie's head, holding him in place. Making him bob his head at the speed Steve wants.

Eddie can feel Steve harden, grow, against his tongue, and he reaches for his own dick and Steve abruptly pulls out of his mouth. Eddie doesn't have time to complain, because Steve flips him back over like it's nothing, no effort at all, and forces Eddie up onto his knees. Slapping him on the thigh, a warning to stay still where he's been arranged. 

The contact rattles around in his brain, leaving a loud reverberating echo, and Eddie stays still. 

Steve dips off the bed, and Eddie hears him rummaging around the room. Digging through the nightstand, tossing all of Eddie's shit onto the ground, including his dirty magazines. Eddie hears them fluttering in the air before thudding onto the carpet. One by one.

"You're a fucking mess," Steve says, and Eddie nods. He's a mess. He is.

Steve must find what he wants, because he pushes him down onto his belly, flat, holding him there, trapping his dick against the bed. Eddie likes this, really likes this, and wants more of it. All of it. He wants Steve to do anything he wants to him, with him. He wants to give, and he wants Steve to take. Eddie grinds down into the bed at the thought.

"Didn't you hear me? I said no."

Eddie heard him. He did. He forgot, he feels too good.

He hears the familiar snick of his K-Y being opened, and then he feels the blunt head of Steve hard cock pressing right against his hole. 

"You have to-" 

"What do I have to do?" Steve interrupts, then pushes all the way in, with one long, sure stroke.

It's an easy slide, Eddie was ready, well prepped, Steve made sure of it earlier. But it still makes him cry out, pushing all of his goddamn buttons.

Steve would never, not really, his limits are hard, and causing Eddie real pain isn't ever going to be on the table.

But Steve thrusts once, twice, and it's overwhelming in the best way. Going from empty to filled completely, all at once. It jars all of Eddie's nerve endings wide-awake, alight with the sensations spreading through his whole body.

And he moans.

Steve grabs both of his shoulders and holds him down into the mattress as he fucks into him, and Eddie is just along for the ride. 

His dick brushing against the bed with every hard thrust. It's too much, and somehow still not enough. If he could just slide a hand-

"Don't even think about it," Steve says, like he can read his mind. 

Eddie laughs, because he didn't expect it, and that makes Steve laugh, too. 

It's contagious. 

He didn't move an inch, so he has no idea how Steve knew what he was about to try. Steve just knows him that well, Eddie is sure of it. And that makes him feel indescribably happy.

Steve leans down, brushing Eddie's hair back off of his face, his neck, pressing his lips there. 

It's soft, and not supposed to be part of this today.

But Eddie smiles. 

It's just Steve, slipping through the cracks of any given scene they try. He always does. It's part of his charm.

"I love you," Steve says, "every inch of you." 

"Even the belligerent parts?" Eddie asks, side of his face still pressed to the sheets. 

"Especially those," Steve says, and Eddie grins.

The wheels have started to fall off this, as they so often do. 

"I thought you were gonna make me behave?" Eddie asks, worming his hand under himself, arching his ass upwards, taking Steve with him, still in him, as he wraps his hand around his own dick, stroking himself roughly, finally getting some relief.

"Impossible, I'm only one man," Steve says, and Eddie smiles, until Steve gives a particularly hard thrust and Eddie huffs out a whine, being pushed further into the mess of sheets. Harder into his own hand. 

They could finish like this, but-

"More or…?" Steve asks, and Eddie doesn't hesitate.

"More," he answers. He wants Steve to fall back into the scene, if at all possible.

It must be, because Steve reaches for Eddie's elbow, roughly forcing him to let go of his cock. Manhandling his arm back to the bed.

Getting right back to it, just as Eddie asked.

So, Eddie slips fully back into that headspace, too, whining about it, as if it wasn't everything he'd asked for.

Steve slams his hips into Eddie's ass, cock reaching all the places Eddie'd only dreamed about before Steve came along and changed his whole world. The head of his cock, catching, dragging along his prostate with each deliberate stroke.

And when Steve finally comes, deep inside him, Eddie knows he did good.

Steve carefully pulls out, and rubs his palm over Eddie's ass, soothing him, before gently rolling Eddie over onto his back. 

"You did so good," Steve tells him, and Eddie feels so warm and happy, "you made me feel so good."

Eddie closes his eyes, and smiles.

"Can I make you feel good now?" Steve asks, rubbing his thighs, and Eddie knows this is his signal to start letting go. To slip back into himself, slowly, but steadily.

"Please," Eddie answers, and Steve gently removes his leather jacket, laying it over the chair at his desk, and then pulls his t-shirt over his head, careful not to tug on his hair. Then Steve slides down his body, taking his cock into his mouth, working him, tongue and lips and throat. All working together, and it doesn't take long. Eddie's been too close to the edge since they were in the backyard, and he comes against Steve's tongue, sagging with the relief of it.

Steve swallows, and crawls up the bed, cuddling up against him. Petting his hair, anchoring his strong leg over Eddie's thighs. Eddie's fingertips skate across his skin, feeling his rough leg hair under his fingers, tracing the map of moles that Eddie is well acquainted with. 

He's slowly coming down, coming back into himself, and soon he'll be back on solid ground.

Steve always takes care of him, his needs. 

"You good?" Steve asks.

And Eddie smiles.

He's so good.

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

My other fics for this challenge week:

Day Two Day Three Day Four Day Five Day Six Day Seven

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @subeddieweek, day four.

Teetering On the Brink

Prompt: Edging | Word Count: 554 | Rating: E | CW: None | Tags: Established Relationship, Edging, Sub Top Eddie, Dom Bottom Steve, Light Praise Kink

"Hold still," Steve says, firm, without any room for interpretation, as he grinds down again. Working himself on Eddie's dick, riding him.

Eddie reaches for Steve's hips, and Steve swats his hands away. Eddie whines low in his throat, needy. Steve has been edging them both for what feels like hours. It's an amount of control Eddie didn't realize anyone could have over their own body, over their own orgasm. 

Steve will ride him, fucking himself on Eddie's cock until Eddie can tell he's teetering on the brink, grazing right up against the point of no return…

And then stop. 

Coming to a total standstill.

Fully seated. Just the tip. Halfway in between. All of the above. He just stops, right where he is, and waits. 

Letting the urge, the need, pass. 

And that's what Steve's doing again now. Sitting stock still, and Eddie's cock is throbbing, buried deep inside of Steve. Just waiting. Willing him to start moving again. He's sure Steve can feel every beat of his heart through his dick. He has to. It's rushing in Eddie's ears, the thump, thump, thump of it.

Drowning out everything else in his head, except Steve, Steve, Steve. 

Steve's squeezing the base of his own dick, staving off his orgasm, denying himself, fully in control, and Eddie can't do a damn thing but float under him, and watch. 

Feel. 

And then Steve's moving, but Eddie knows he'll stop short, again. And again, and again. There are miles to go before Steve decides he can come, and before he decides Eddie can, either.

But Eddie's orgasm sneaks up on him, and he tenses, "Shit, I'm gonna come."

"No, you're not," Steve says, stopping, mid grind. Hovering, halfway down Eddie's cock. 

Eddie breathes, until it passes.

"Okay," Eddie says when he's sure he's okay for Steve to continue, and Steve slides right back down, locking them flush together again.

Steve leans forward and brushes the damp hair off of Eddie's forehead, thumb brushing against skin, soft and kind. 

"You're being so good," Steve says. "Making us both feel so good. I never want it to end."

And it might not. Steve's in charge. This is on his timetable. But he's still Steve. Still thoughtful, still wants to be giving in bed. He wants to give Eddie this, give him everything, and Eddie knows that. Knows this is for him. Knows that this is Steve taking care of him. Knows that Steve would have been just as content to sprawl out on the bed, and let Eddie fuck him. 

But they're doing this instead. This dance that Eddie enjoys. Gets off on. 

Even if it feels like torture.

Especially because it feels like torture, maybe. 

And he's doing it well, Steve said so, and the praise thrums under his skin.

Steve starts moving again, sliding slowly upwards, and then back down again. It's more controlled now, slower, and Eddie longs to grab Steve's hips and shove upwards, burying himself to the hilt. Or, jackrabbit his way to an orgasm, quick, and fast, and dirty.

But he doesn't. He waits, because he's good. Steve's told him so. 

And he lets Steve guide them back to the edge, again and again.

Eddie will teeter with Steve on the precipice for an eternity, and love every goddamn minute of it.

My other fics for this challenge week:

Day One Day Two Day Three Day Five Day Six Day Seven

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @subeddieweek, day six.

No Slack

Prompt: Bondage/Public Sex | Word Count: 1904 | Rating: E | CW: Gagging, Light Choking, Unprotected Sex | Tags: Established Relationship, Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Belt Fetish Play, Blowjob, Semi-Public Sex, Bondage, Sub Top Eddie, Dom Bottom Steve, Boys in Love

The party is still raging beneath them, the music too loud, with the dull roar of everyone talking, yelling, over it. Doors slamming up and down the hallway. Feet pounding on the stairs. Noise, and people just on the other side of the closed door that Steve leans against, but hasn't locked. 

Eddie eyes the lock, the door knob, until his eyes are drawn elsewhere. 

Steve is sliding his belt out of his jeans, slowly. So fucking slowly, inch by inch, and Eddie is on his knees, totally naked, waiting. Watching, intently. 

Steve's belt is finally hanging loose in his fist, a promise, and Eddie's eyes are glued to Steve's big hands as he pulls the leather strap through his fingers. 

Eddie squirms. 

Steve's still playing with his belt, and Eddie is stuck eye level with his cock. Straining against the tight denim. Prominent bulge on display.

Eddie wants. 

His mouth waters at the promise hidden in plain sight. 

And he knows Steve knows that. Because he slides his palm over the outline of his dick, cupping it through the denim. Eddie's own cock gives a throb in his jeans. But he ignores it, and just watches Steve fondle his own cock. Teasing Eddie as he makes the outline of it even more prominent. Rubbing back and forth, using his thumb and forefinger to stroke himself into full hardness right there in his tight fucking Levi's. Eddie could watch this all day, and he stays still, doing just that.

Steve finally reaches for the button, and then the zipper, tugging it down slowly. He shimmies his ass out of his jeans, his dick finally free, on display, framed by the open fly of his jeans, and it's the hottest thing Eddie's ever seen. 

Eddie is naked, Steve isn't, and Eddie whimpers. 

Steve guides his dick into Eddie's mouth, just the tip, and then squeezes the messy bun on hair on the top of Eddie's head, telling him firmly, "Stay."

Eddie stays.

Then Steve's looping the open belt around the back of Eddie's neck, holding both sides of the strap, the leather just resting against Eddie's bare skin on the back of his neck. It's warm, where it's been around Steve's waist, in his hands.

But it still makes Eddie shiver, the sensation of it. The promise of what's to come.

And then Steve pulls on both sides of the leather, leaving no slack, and Eddie slides all the way down his dick, his nose bumping against Steve's pubic hair. He breathes in through his nose, and closes his eyes.

It took practice, and time. Lots of time to take Steve this deep. He's big, but Eddie was goddamn determined. And now he's being rewarded with this new experience, the belt, for the first time.

"Swallow," Steve says, and Eddie does. Closing his throat around Steve's cock, squeezing. 

Then, Steve releases the tension on the belt, and Eddie slides off his dick. Looking up at him as he does, never dropping eye contact, though. Still looking at Steve, even with watery eyes. 

"One, two, three," Steve counts, and Eddie puts his mouth back into place. Lips closing over the tip of his cock, tasting him again, savoring it. Willing to take anything, everything, Steve will give him.

Steve pulls on the belt just enough on the back of Eddie's neck so Eddie is gliding his tongue along Steve's cock on the way down. And Steve guides him back into position. Gently at first. Slowly, then he tightens it back down. 

Burying himself in Eddie's throat again. Holding Eddie there.

"Four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten," and he releases the tension, again, letting Eddie pull back.

And Eddie waits. 

"You ready for more?" Steve asks, taking the end of the belt in his fingers, the side without the buckle, lightly slapping Eddie across the chest with it, catching his nipple. 

Eddie whines, and his dick somehow gets even harder between his naked thighs.

Steve looks down, "I'm taking that as a yes."

It's a yes. It's always a yes.

Then Steve uses the belt to pull Eddie back down his cock, and since Steve won't loop it all the way around his neck, so he doesn't have the ability to force Eddie off his dick, no counterpressure. Eddie'll have to provide that himself, and he does. Pulls back against the leather, straining, like he's fighting it, so Steve can pull him up and down, again and again, as Eddie opens up and enjoys it. 

Steve stills to a stop, settling back into Eddie's mouth, throat. Belt held down tight, keeping Eddie there. 

Eddie holds him, until he feels the urge to gag. It doesn't happen often these days, but it does happen. It makes him fucking mad.

But he taps Steve on the thigh, and he's instantly released. 

He slides back off his dick and coughs, and yeah, fucking embarrassingly, gags. Goddamn gag reflex betraying him. 

Steve strokes his hair, "We done?" 

Eddie shakes his head. No. He's not done. He'll never be done. 

"What do you need?" Steve asks, cupping Eddie's cheek, the belt still in his hand, rubbing it against Eddie's face. Eddie closes his eyes and leans into the sensation.

"No more deepthroating?" Eddie finally asks, voice ruined, looking up at Steve. Steve nods, sliding the belt back around his neck, but letting Eddie be in control of when they start again.

When he's ready, Eddie opens his mouth, sliding back down, and then Steve uses the belt to fuck his mouth. Pulling. Releasing. But never going as deep, as hard.

"That's good, baby," Steve says. 

And the compliment flushes Eddie, making him want more. He wants to make Steve happy, wants to make Steve feel good.

He wants Steve to use him, and he closes his eyes and lets the static in his brain take over, washing over him. Trusting Steve to take care of him, to give him this.

And he does.

Eddie isn't sure how long he's been on his knees, how long Steve's cock has been sliding in and out of his mouth, but when Steve's hand cups his cheek, it startles him.

"I'm gonna come now," Steve says, and it's not posed as a question, even if Eddie knows that it is. So, Eddie nods, consenting, and Steve pulls on the belt, once, twice more, then tightens it down, not as hard as he did at first, but enough to come and throb in Eddie's mouth, Eddie swallowing.

Steve groans, and he sounds so pretty, the noises he's making mixing with the music from below. 

Then the belt falls loose, and Eddie slowly pulls back off of Steve's softening dick. Letting it slip from his lips, falling back against Steve's skin, damp, and spent. It's gorgeous, and Eddie leans forward and licks the stray drop of come that's still sliding from the slit.

"So good," Steve says, and only then does he reach over and flip the lock, a hard turn, sliding it securely into place. He drops the belt with a thud, and offers both of his hands to Eddie, and Eddie takes them, standing on wobbly legs. His legs are tingly, about to fall asleep, but it feels amazing. So good all over. 

Steve guides him back to the bed, Steve's bed, and helps sprawl him out on top of the sheets as Steve undresses. Then he's crawling on top of Eddie's thighs, letting his big hands roam all over Eddie's body, before framing Eddie's straining cock, thumbs rubbing against his balls.

"I'd like to fuck you," Steve says, "would you like that?" 

Eddie nods, and Steve smiles, reaching behind himself, groaning as he loosens and removes the plug keeping him ready. Eddie watches his face as it slides out, and it's such a goddamn turn-on. 

Everything about Steve is, though.

Steve finds the lube in the bedside drawer, and slicks up Eddie's dick. It's already beyond hard and straining, and Eddie breathes in as Steve lowers himself onto Eddie's aching cock.

It feels so good.

Steve grinds, and then starts riding him in full force. Aiming for his own prostate, and Eddie doesn't know how he could stand it after just coming. But he does, and is moaning with every stroke.

Eddie wants to come. Needs to. But he'll let Steve get everything he needs from him first.

Eddie runs his hands up Steve's hairy thighs, up his chest, and thumbs over his nipples. Steve looks down and meets his eyes, grinning. He's half hard, and Eddie runs his finger down Steve's hairy chest, damp with sweat, then over the head of his cock, and between that and Steve aiming for his own prostate over and over, he finally gets what he wants, a prostate orgasm as he clenches down on Eddie, nearly screaming.

And Eddie holds on.

Even as Steve is pulsing around him, squeezing.

Even as he's making the most delicious fucking noises known to man.

Eddie waits.

"Come in me," Steve finally says and Eddie does. Grabbing Steve's hips, and pushing all the way into him, filling him, coming with a long, happy groan. 

He's panting, dick still half-hard, still pushing into Steve, long after he's finished. Squeezing every last drop of pleasure out, for the both of them.

Steve laughs, "Goddamn."

And Eddie smiles, happy, as Steve finally slides off his lap, off his cock, sprawling onto his back on the bed. Patting his own chest, and Eddie takes the order, curling up against him, resting his head on Steve's chest, right over his heart. Letting the familiar thrum lull him to sleep.

"Was that okay?" Steve asks, later, as he's climbing into the shower with Eddie, and wrapping him up in his arms. Kissing the back of Eddie's neck, where it's slightly red and sore from the friction of the belt tugging on his skin.

"Perfect. Just what I imagined," Eddie reassures him. This was his idea. Not only to do it while the party was going on downstairs, but the belt, too. And it took a little bit to get Steve to agree to the idea. Worried he'd hurt him, worried to wrap anything around Eddie's neck. 

Which Eddie understands. 

He brushes his thumb against the nearly invisible scar around Steve's neck, where the bats pulled on him, choking him.

And then Eddie leans forward, kissing a line around Steve's neck, as Steve holds him close.

Eddie had to convince Steve that using the belt wasn't about choking, and wasn't meant to be. Just a little bondage. Being held down. Just pulling on him from behind. No chance of actually cutting off his air. 

And once they talked over the mechanics, made their negotiations, they arrived at a way that worked for both of them.

Steve takes a step back from Eddie, grasping both of Eddie's wrists in his big hand. And he can't close around both of them, not quite, but he can get his point across, as he holds them to Eddie's chest as he slides down to his knees at Eddie's feet.

The warm water sliding over Eddie's skin, then down onto Steve. 

And Steve holds Eddie's hands, lightly restraining him, as he nuzzles against Eddie's soft cock. Then rests his cheek on Eddie's thigh.

"You make me so happy," Steve finally says.

Eddie smiles down at him.

"Not as happy as you make me."

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

Here's everything else of mine for the week:

Day One Day Two Day Three Day Four Day Five Day Seven