Where In The Hell Did You Find That

Caught Red Handed

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Y/N and Eddie are in a relationship but Y/N’s brother Dustin has no idea about it.

Warnings: light smut (fingering)

Masterlist

***

“I’m heading out Dustin, I’ll be back later!” Y/N called her younger brother. 

“Where are you going?” Dustin asked, suddenly appearing from around the corner. 

“Just out with a few friends.” Y/N responded. 

“Who?” Dustin interrogated. 

“What are you? My father?” Y/N asked.

Dustin placed his hands on his hips, “Well someone has to be. You go out nearly every night without explanation. Robin says that you have a secret relationship that you’re not telling me about but I shut her down immediately. You tell me everything, of course you would tell me if you were in a relationship.”

Keep reading

Lil baby Tomura cuddles his pregnant mom. You think it’s be cute like him hugging her tummy and cuddling but it’s not

Tomu: *whispering to bump* I hate you… get out of mommy….

Y/n: *half asleep* tomu baby stop threatening your unborn sibling

Its funny how much you and Kai have become familiar with your triplets habits. You could both be dead asleep and yet whenever he feels Himiko move, his hands instinctively move and pull her just in time to stop her from stabbing your belly with something sharp. He'd pull the weapon from her hands, then pull Himiko to his chest and cuddle her until she falls asleep against his chest.

If he feels eyes on him, he knows it Dabi. Sighing, Kai would wake up and walk towards his son who is standing in the corner. Picking him up, Kai would walk towards the balcony and ask Dabi about his day. If he doesn't answer, then Kai would just start talking about random things, usually politics, which usually puts the little pyromaniac to sleep. Kai theorises that since Dabi likes to act all independent and mighty all day long, he sometimes wants some quiet time with either of his parents where they just give him their complete attention and make him feel important. You usually did that before, but ever since you became pregnant, Kai switched places with you.

And Tomura? Kai usually plucks the little boy off your belly and whispers in his ear that he's hurting mommy by doing that, so he can just cuddle upto her neck. However, when you get up in the middle of the night to pee or puke, Tomura immeadiately senses your absence and tries to go after you in the bathroom. Kai is quick to grab Tomura and stop him (from traumatising himself when he watches his mother violently puking her guts out), pulls him back to bed and against his chest, all while Tomura starts whimpering. Kai starts to tell him stories about you to distract him, tells him about how much you used to pray for a pretty angel like Tomura and how you prayed that her babies were patient and good. That's enough to soothe Tomura and make him less distressed, and by the time you return to bed, Tomura is already half asleep, mumbling how he loves his mom.

You'd raise a brow at him, but Kai would just shrug and kiss you, before pulling you close to him.

What can he say? He's good with his kids.

baby's first metal concert

♡ TW: implied noncon, break-up, toxic relationship, crazy ex-boyfriend, intrusive thoughts, anger issues

♡ FEM reader

Thinking about gamer boyfriend who doesn’t know what he has before it’s gone…

You told him you were leaving, but it didn’t dawn on him that’s what you’d meant. He was deep in-game—he couldn't pay attention to your whining. He figured you went out to the store or something, but later, after midnight, he realized he was hungry, and you were nowhere. Not in the kitchen making dinner, not in his bed sleeping, and not in the bathroom either. 

Did you go home? He wonders, standing alone in the dark, empty silence—feeling a little put off at the sight of his room—how even in the dim light, it’s a clear fucking mess. You usually tidy up a bit for him, but you hadn’t this time—no, there’s old underwear and socks everywhere, shirts and hoodies too, empty cans and pizza boxes. It’s a bit gross, actually, he admits while scratching his neck. 

The drawer he’d dedicated to you in his dresser is open and empty. Did you take everything to get it cleaned? You are a bit of a neat freak—unlike him. Suppose that would be something you’d do. Weird of you not to take any of his laundry as well, though.

Oh, well. He shoots you a “gn bby” on his phone, then collapses on his bed and falls asleep—smiles a bit as he does so—it’s nice not having you here to tell him to undress and go shower first. Yeah, you can be such a nag sometimes.

He wakes up late in the day. You’re not there. Usually, you come over to wake him with some breakfast. He checks his phone—you didn’t reply last night. It isn't that weird—you were probably already asleep at that point. But why didn’t you answer when you woke up? There’s no way you’re still asleep, right? 

Fuck, he’s hungry.

“gm,” he sends—contemplates asking you what’s up but doesn’t. You must be busy with something not to have checked your phone yet.

The entire day goes by, and you still don’t answer. He doesn’t take it too hard. But he won’t deny being a bit miffed.

It’s when three days go by that he’s well and truly confused. He’s sent you several texts at this point, even called you a few times, getting a little worried something had happened to you before he got the message that he’d been blocked. 

What the fuck’s going on with you?

He thinks back to the last time he saw you. What did you even say? He can’t remember. Something about being tired—something, something—I’m leaving.

He swallows thickly. No… No way, that’s what you meant, right? No, can’t be. You love him. You’re his pretty girlfriend. The one that comes with his food and later comes back for his bowl. The one that sucks his dick under his desk as he goes on a kill streak. The warm pillow he uses when he finally drags his bad posture to the bed and falls asleep.

No. Where the fuck are you? Are you sick or something? Yeah, must be, right? So delirious you’ve managed to block him somehow. You were probably only trying to call him back. You were never so tech-savvy—a fever must have worsened it. He should go to you. He can bring his pc. Or no, he can get you and bring you back here. Yeah, that would be easier.

He calls your roommate, tells her he’s coming, and asks her to let you know to get ready.

“What are you talking about?” she says through a piece of gum—her voice all dull as if bothered to have picked up the phone. Or, rather, she sounds a bit drunk. There’s music in the background. “Girl broke up with you, didn’t she?”

His blood runs cold at that. A lump forms in his throat—a thick, unmovable lump that makes him think he’s about to throw up. “N-no, she didn’t.”

“Hey!” she calls out, not to him, though—she’s covered the mic with her hand. He only hears the muted distortion of voices and bass through it before your roommate comes back to him. 

“Sorry—she’s telling me a different story,” she relays, popping her gum in his ear before sneering—or, at least, that’s what he pictures. “Honestly, how long did you think she was gonna put up with cleaning up after you anyway? I know I wouldn’t last half as long as she has.” The lump in his throat grows thicker, swelling up until it's choking him. “Anyway, good luck.”

She hangs up, and he drops his phone. There’s a crack as it hits the floor. And then something wet on his face. Something hot. Something searing as it tracks down his cheeks and drops off like acid onto the floor. 

What should he do? What do you want him to do? To tidy up? He can do that! He’s not some imbecile like your friend makes him out to be who can’t even do the basics of chores. Of course, he can! And so that’s what he does—hands shaking as he tidies. 

It feels foreign, and he’s not even sure where to start. And it quickly proves to be a lot worse than what he’d thought. Beyond stinky clothes and dirty dishes, there’s trash, rotten food, sticky surfaces, and other things he can’t even put a name to. It’s gross, actually. Downright disgusting. How long’s it been like this?

Even after everything’s put in order, there’s a smell that lingers and no end to the dust he has to clean—cringing at the little insects that come crawling out of their hiding spots. Geez—has it really been this bad?

He falls asleep on the floor at some point—having completely forgotten to eat—then wakes up feeling awful the next day. The kitchen is barren, and so he orders take-out. Eats and then goes back to cleaning. There’s still a lot left.

It’s barely recognizable once he’s done. Nice and bright and tidy and clean. There’s a sum of a dozen large black trash bags in the hallway he needs to take out, but other than that, everything’s perfect—perfectly presentable to have you come over again.

Still, he gives it a couple of days. He knows you. You’re going to change your mind. You’re too sweet to be breaking up with him. Too nice. You wouldn’t just leave him, not like this. Yeah, you’re only trying to teach him a lesson—after a while, you’ll come back on your own. You’ll be ecstatic over what he’s done with the place—apologetic even as you tell him you were wrong about him—and then everything will go back to normal. Make-up sex and everything. 

But you don’t. No. You’re nowhere to be seen or found—even after a week’s passed. You’re still gone. And he’s starting to believe you might just be gone for real.

No. He sees what this is. You’re waiting for the grand gesture, aren’t you? He never knew you could be so petty—but it’s actually kind of cute. Fine then. He’ll play along—come crawling to you on his hands and knees with the best apology you’ve ever heard. And then you can end this whole thing.

And so he finds himself at your place, pressing the buzzer, not knowing if he’s catching you at home—if not, he’ll just try again tomorrow, and so on until he does. He hears someone at the other side of the door—they must be looking at him through the peephole. It takes a while before the locks click and open.

“Hey…”

It’s you. 

“Hi,” he smiles in return, happy to see you. He’s been so nervous, but somehow, your face and voice are enough to calm him down.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

Oh, of course. You weren’t expecting him. Still, it feels weird of you not to gush happily over the surprise and rush him inside. It’s not every day he goes outside—you should be a little impressed.

But no, of course, you’re playing the part of fed-up girlfriend—acting hard-to-get. He’s got you—he’ll play his part, so don’t worry.

“I wanted to apologize,” he announces. “I haven’t been a good boyfriend—I see that now. But I’ll be better from now on, I promise—come over, and I’ll prove it to you.”

As far as apologies and promises go, he thinks that sounded pretty smooth—not too desperate, not too demanding. Pretty slick, if he can say so himself.

And so, why aren’t you smiling? He can understand being nervous—so is he—but why do you look guilty?

“That’s really nice. And… I’m really happy you’re looking better. But…” you start, and his gut’s already wrenching. “I think you need more time for yourself to just… enjoy what it’s like to be independent, you know?” 

No, he doesn’t know. What are you saying? And why are you holding onto the doorknob like that? Holding it steady as if you’re planning to shut it as soon as you can—why?

“Thanks for stopping by. It was nice seeing you—it really was. Take care of yourself, okay?”

It’s shutting—his plans—disappearing right before his face. He knows he isn’t owed a second shot, but this isn’t fair. You can’t be serious—are you?

“What? No, wait—” He stops you, weighing his own hand on the door, keeping it open. “Listen, I’m good now. I’ve pulled it together, you’ll see—I’ll come in, and we’ll talk about it.”

You resist, using both hands to almost push the door back on him. “I have company, so—”

“What’s up?” another voice announces himself—deep and presentful. He comes into view behind you—taller than you, taller than him—looking down his nose at him with a raised brow. “Who’s this?”

You look a bit panicked—no, embarrassed. “Oh, uhm—”

Why are you embarrassed? “Who’s that?” The bitterness in his voice surprises even himself—loaded with the same type of spite he seethes with when players use cheats to win.

“He’s an old friend, but he was just leaving,” you say, but you’re not speaking to him. No, you stroke a hand over the guy’s broad chest, looking up at him apologetically before turning back to him again, voice strict in a way he’s never heard, “Bye.”

“But—”

You shut the door. On him. In his face. 

His skin crawls—goosefleshed and chilled. Was that a date? No, right? You have a brother, don’t you? Yes, must be. No way you’re dating. There’s no way, right? It’s only been a week… no way you’ve moved on in only a week, right?

You looked really nice—wearing that sweet blouse with all the little bows and that cute little skirt you’d always wear out on dates. Damn, when was the last time the two of you went on a date? Must be months ago, if he can’t even remember. 

Come to think of it, the two of you would always have sex when you wore that skirt. Yeah, it’s your fuck-me-skirt. Are you going to fuck this guy too now? On the first date? Is it your first date? No, probably not—who has their first date at home? That’s more like a third or even fourth or fifth date, right? Were you dating him while the two of you were still together? Have you been cheating on him all this time? Laughing at him behind his back—talking shit with your bitch-roommate? About what a pathetic loser he is? About how he’s a slob who can’t take care of himself? How he needs you? Have you!?

He shouldn't be texting you all this from a random number. He knows that, but the full realization doesn’t dawn on him before it’s too late, and he’s sent you over a hundred messages, some small and others at such a length they take up more than what the screen allows. What the fuck’s he doing? He’d bought the new sim so that he could contact you in an emergency, not to spam you with accusations like some crazy ex. 

He starts deleting them—in some desperate wishful thinking, with the hope you wouldn’t see them, but then the dotted line starts beating, jumping in taunt. His eyes are wide as he stares at it, holding his breath. Ten seconds pass before it disappears—no message sent.

You blocked him again. And he can’t blame you.

And yet, he can’t let you go, either. 

He spends the first few weeks hauled up at home—his flat becoming as trashed as ever as he doomscrolls all your socials through a fake account. You’ve deleted all the pictures of him—even the ones of yourself when you’ve been with him. There’s no evidence the two of you were even dating.

How could you do this? How could you erase him like this?

He has questions, and he needs answers. You can’t just do this—the two of you haven’t even had the talk—he hasn’t even got to say his side yet!

He just wants to talk to you—why won’t you let him? He just wants you to hear him out. He deserves that much. But since you’re not giving him any option of contacting you, he’s had to resort to medieval methods—lurking outside your apartment like some creep, eyes peeled on your building’s entrance, waiting for you to show.

He’s there for hours, patiently—refusing to go home—thinking he’ll be there all night if he has to.

But then there you are—coming out of the complex, stepping down the alley, dressed all nice for the night. You seem to be in a hurry—are you on your way to another date? Well, wherever you’re going and whoever you’re meeting, they can wait.

“I need to talk—” he doesn’t get the words out.

You’d noticed him following you and tried to out-pace him—make him lose interest. But the area your flat’s situated in is a sketchy one—at least for girls, and you’d made the decision long ago that you’d never walk outside unprepared. And so, as soon as feeling the stranger's hand on your arm, you whip around to maze him right in the face.

“Argh!” he screeches and stumbles back, hands covering his eyes. “Fuck—ow-fuckin’dammit, shit—what the fuck did you do that for? Fuck—”

You were going to make a run for it, but the familiar voice has you halt—wait a minute…

You call his name, and sure enough, it’s him who looks up at you through the teary redness of your pepper spray assault. 

“Oh my god, shit—I’m so sorry—I thought you were a—” you stop yourself. “Fuck—never mind. Come—” You link his arm with yours and lead him back inside the apartment you just left. “I’ll help you rinse—I’m so sorry.”

You rush him to the bathroom, seating him atop the toilet lid as you wet a cloth and start soaking his face.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see it was you—” you apologize again. “Are your eyes okay?”

“Not really,” he hisses through clenched teeth, though steals himself soon after. “But they're getting better…”

His face unswells after a good thirty minutes, after which he’s able to keep his eyes open again—sore and no doubt bloodshot, yet fine, if not for that. You’ve moved him into the living room instead, having done what you could to rinse off your attack—having provided him with an apologetic glass of water. Now sitting with him, waiting for the effects to wear off.

It feels nice to be with you again despite the circumstances—but it’s awkward how you don’t speak.

“You look nice,” he says—trying to break the tension. It’s not as if the two of you are strangers, and so you shouldn’t act like it.

“Oh, I’m going to a party—roomie’s already there, so…” you say, sitting at the edge of your seat. “If you’re okay, I should probably head out… soon.”

A silence fills his head, as well as the room—a heavy stillness before a single word leaves him. “What?” His face sinks—part confusion, part offense, and something else—something that makes his voice come out accusatory and outraged, “You maze me in the face, and you’re just gonna fuck off to a party?”

Your eyes widen.“Well… it’s—”

“No—what the fuck?” He stands abruptly. His head’s so empty except for the blinding darkness slowly overtaking it—leaving him feeling boiling and all but nuclear. “That’s all I get? Are you fucking serious?” He’s shouting now—and then he’s on you, with one hand fisting your pretty dress and another around your throat. “First, you dump me without warning, assault me like some maniac, give me a lousy apology, and then tell me to fuck off? What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

You splutter his name and push, but it’s like fighting a wall.

“Where are you actually going dressed like that, huh? What’s so fucking important? Is it another date? What, with that same oaf I saw here last time? Or is it someone new already? I know how flighty you can be. I mean, fuck, I knew you were a little freaky, but I didn’t know I was dating a fucking slut!”

His strength comes as a complete and utter devastating shock. You’d think sitting in a chair all day would make any muscle obsolete—but the hands holding you don’t right now is more than anything you could hope to fight against.

“Stop! Get off me—” you cry, thrashing hopelessly as he lifts your dress and rips your lace panty down your thighs. 

A growl in his voice and nothing but rage on his face.

“If anyone can get it—I might as well help myself.”

♡ BNHA – Shigaraki, Dabi, Denki, Kirishima ♡ BLLK – Nagi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

Thinking about either yanderes who

Tw:noncon, kidnapping, yandere

-tie you up, force you on their laps while laughing and holding your jaw open, admiring your tears as they bounce you on their lap. They revel as you sob and have difficulty maintaining eye contact while they spit obscenities at you, dark and threatening statements that wrack your body with intense sobs and heaving gasps

“You’re mine. Don’t ever forget that”

“You need me to drill it into your cunt or your head? Both? Fuck sweetheart, you shoulda told me sooner”

“I’ll kill anyone who looks at you, and then fuck you over their body. You hear me slut? Nod, fucking nod if you understand me. Or are you too brain-dead from cock?”

“I dare you to try and escape. You’ll only make jt more fun for me to put you back in your place, underneath me”

“Beg me to slap you. Go on, beg for it. Aww, what’s the matter, why’re you crying cutie? Is it too much?”

They imitate your moans, their eyes dark and glinting as they mock your whimpers and protruding tongue. It sounds worse coming from their mouths, all high pitched and whiny. You probably sound worse, but it’s the least you can worry about as they slap your sore tits and fuck you so hard your whole body moves up with the force.

They lean in when they’re close, growling in your ear and causing goosebumps to erupt over your arms as they croon,

“You gonna cum? Huh? Cum for me, cream all over this dick you useless bitch”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck that’s it, you like bouncing? You like riding me like this? I know you do, and that’s what you’re gonna do the rest of your life. ARENT I nice? Say it. Fucking say you love me unless you want a shock collar around your throat the rest of your life.”

You’re terrified, of course, your wails useless and your pleas rendered incomprehensible as they have their way with you, daring you to act out so they can correct you for it

-But then on the other hand, we have those lovey dovey yanderes who simply sing your praise and beg for you to love them.

You’re still tied up, but they hug you close, and want you to make eye contact with them so they can see your beautiful eyes. They wanna see the color shine in them as they deliver the utmost pleasure they can for you.

It hurts their heart physically when you cower and shake your head, your gaze unable to meet his.

His eyes are glassy too now as he holds back light sobs at your fear

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please forgive me but I can’t hold back. You’re too perfect, can you understand that my love?”

“Please just look at me. I’m not trying to hurt you, I love you, you know that right?”

His questions, while not rhetorical, are unanswered as you continue to whimper in terror and try to turn in on yourself.

So he opts to be more direct and frank with you. If you won’t listen to his desperate love, then he’ll have to succumb to a more Daddy-like approach. After all, that is what he wants to be for you. A caretaker, your lover. Not a captor for you to hide away from when he just wants to find solace in your embrace after a long day.

He pushes a hand against your back and pressed himself chest to chest against you, driving his cock slow and deep into you, doing his best to hit that special spot when you writhe more than usual.

“I’m gonna take care of you, okay?” He growls in your ear, trying to mask his cracking voice with a firm grip on your tits.

It makes him harder to hear you gasp, but all the same his heart breaks as you tremble and bite your lip, sporting that adorable pout that signals a fresh new wave of barely-concealed sobs.

“You’re mine, and no one’s gonna hurt you. Anything you want, anything you need, say the name and I’ll reward you with it. All I want from you is your love.”

He softly yet firmly grips the base of your head and tugs lightly on your hair, pulling you back slightly to look at him.

“Just-just stay here w-with me and that’s all I want.”

whats mine is yours

socmed au wherein gojo tries his absolute hardest to reach out to you through various payment apps because you blocked him everywhere lol

Steddie art dump (1/?)

★ dom!reader and sub!rafe, but she's getting fucked dumb 🎀 ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

warning: rafe ignores reader's safe word

you had been fucking rafe for hours, letting him use you in any position possible. he deserved it after hosting the perfect day for you: he woke you up eating you out, made you breakfast, took you shopping, took you out for an expensive dinner, and ended the night walking with you on the beach, giving you kisses and praises as the moon shone on the calm waters.

he buttered you up all day, not to mention that he also ordered you endless amounts of your favorite cocktails at dinner, making you tipsy and blissful. he knew all these factors would ultimately make you putty in his hands later in the night when he needed to fuck you senseless. after you two got home, he was more than eager to tear your clothes off, but first, he asked nicely of course.

"...need to feel you, mommy" he breathed against your neck, sucking the flesh while hugging you from behind.

you smiled leisurely, rubbing his hair. you knew he had earned it.

"go ahead, baby—" you smiled lazily at his desperation for you.

the alcohol in your system was making you feel warm, fuzzy.... and highly submissive.

"—use me."

and those words set him off into a frenzy.

he had already made you cum 3 times, all in different positions. something about letting him take control was nice. you laid there as he fucked into you like crazy, his touches animalistic and aggressive, as if you were a one night stand. you groaned at his roughness, your hands caressing his fast twitched muscles. it would be a lie to say that you didn't try to tap out at certain moments, especially when he had you pinned to the mattress, his hips working into yours feverishly.

"rafey- fuck, red- I cant-!!" you barely cried your safe word, head spinning from the feeling of his cock hitting your hilt and his stomach hitting your clit. you felt like you were going to black out. his pressure on your body made you trapped, forcing endless ripples of pleasure through you. the timid boy you once knew was overcome with darkness, pleasure clouding his brain as he rode out his power trip. rafe kept his pace, holding you down even harder.

"not stopping, m-mommy... you can take it" he whimpered, he knew he was in control at that very moment.

★

hours later, you were almost a puddle of nothing when rafe made you ride him, your body barely able to grind against his. he looked up at the mess he created of you, seeing your mouth permanently agape paired with mascara stained cheeks made him swell with pride. rafe bit his lip, moving your hips back and forth because you couldn't do it yourself, holding yourself up weakly. you were the utter definition of fucked out.

"choke me-" you begged through lidded eyes, your delirious state making your dominant walls fall down. you were putty in his hands.

rafe's hands snaked around your neck, holding the flesh tight. he pulled you into his chest, making you lay on top of him. your head fell to his shoulder as you closed your eyes, biting your lip into a tired smile.

"y-you like that?" rafe teased, seeing how you fell apart on his dick. you nodded weakly, letting out kitten whimpers in his ear. he used your throat as leverage to fuck you up and down his length harder, making you mewl at his pace. you instinctively grabbed both his wrists as you mentally checked out.

"y-you're so... strong f'me, s-so big, mmmh!.... fuck-" you knew rafe had strength, but when he used it.... you submitted to his every move. his grasp was making you see stars, spewing nonsense at the feeling of his tip hitting your gspot. shaking on top of him, you two maneuvered in and out of each other mindlessly, chasing your nth highs for the night. it felt like your insides were caving in, the destruction of his thick cock was too much.

a soft smile plastered on his face when he saw tears of pleasure fall from your eyes, using the pad of his thumb to swipe them away. he felt so powerful with you in this state—you were broken and weak in his arms, trying to hold on to your last bits of sanity.

"good girl mommy, keep taking me-" rafe breathed, holding you close to him. you nodded faintly, lost in the realms of pleasure as rafe was talking you through it.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you felt another orgasm creeping up on you. your body, stiff and curled up, fell to the side of the bed in exhaustion, trying to escape his thrusts from the brain melting pleasure. your body twitched faintly in relief before you felt rafe's weight shift on top of you again.

"dont do that, dont fuckin' do that" he murmured to himself, flipping you on your stomach like a ragdoll before sliding himself back into you.

both fists sunk beside your arms as he pounded into you hard, over and over and over. the whining springs, rhythmic slapping your your flesh, and his low growls filled the room. rafe was finishing you off for good as you laid there limp, no choice but to take it as you began blacking out.

you couldn't let out even a sound to protest, barely conscious on the bed as you stared off into space, muscles paralyzed as you took in his pulsating cock.

"nghnh umh- ra- f-fuc-" you wheezed as he sped up, cumming inside you in hard, strong thrusts.

you inhaled shakily, looking up at the ceiling. your flesh convulsed as rafe placed kisses all over your body, calming you down. the rawness and sensitivity in your body made you twitch at his wet kisses. rafe smiled at the way It reacted to him. he curled up against your fucked out figure, caressing your face.

"princess?" he hummed, euphoria overtaking him.

your response was barely audible. rafe's heart beat faster before he plucked the courage to say these words:

"say..... thank you daddy" he coo'ed, a mischievous smirk on his face.

"....thank you... daddy..." you mimicked. you felt rafe kiss your cheek and nuzzle into your neck before passing out under him.

for my sub!rafe enthusiasts🤭 (even though theres a twist hehe): @nemesyaaa @rafescokewhore @rafeyscurtainbangs

i got a goth gf (and she’s hotter than hell) :: e.m.

summary: eddie munson is head over heels for the new girl. how could he not be when she was even more metal than him?

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, swears, goth kid bullying, non supernatural au

word count: 736

Keep reading

Bizarre Love Triangle || Steve Harrington x reader x Eddie Munson

Summary: Eddie Munson has finally graduated from Hawkins High. To celebrate, you plan a camping trip for the ages and invite Steve Harrington, your mutual friend that you're totally crushing on. Doesn't help that you also like Eddie, and that Eddie also likes you, and Steve is into you both. Oh, and you all have to share one cramped tent.

Couple: Steve Harrington x Reader, Eddie Munson x Reader, Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Category: Smut

Content Warning: graphic smut, oral (m & f receiving), hand jobs, fingering, unprotected sex, graphic dirty talk, spit kink

Word Count: 9.1k

CONTAINS NO SPOILERS FOR S4 VOL 2

Eddie Munson was sulking as he drove, looking back at you and Harrington giggling and throwing pieces of the road food you’d grabbed at 7-11 forty miles back at each other. 

“This is dumb,” Eddie sighed, glancing at the two of you in his rearview mirror. “We should just go back to Hawkins. Why the fuck are we crossing state lines to camp out and get stoned out of our minds when we can do that back home?”

You frowned, crawling forward to lean over his seat, so close that he could feel the warmth radiating off of you. “C’mon, Eddie,” you said, your chin resting on his shoulder. “You’re officially free of Hawkins High. This is the senior trip to celebrate your liberation.”

He snorted, shaking his head. But he couldn’t ignore the intoxicating scent of your perfume (probably something he stole you from the department store back when Starcourt was still open). It was lucky that you slunk back to Harrington, because he audibly swallowed as he thought of how delicious you smelled and how easy it would be to lean over and nuzzle into your throat.

Eddie Munson, whether he would admit it or not, had it bad for his best friend. 

“Next hour, I’m picking the music,” Steve called around a mouthful of cracker jacks. “I’ve made a good mix for this. Perfect road trip music.” Eddie tried to hide his disappointed expression. God, he was glad that he had befriended Harrington, but his music taste made his ears bleed.

“Trip’s barely over two,” Eddie mumbled, but it went ignored as you dug into your bag with Steve. 

“You brought everything?” You asked softly, glancing at him with a sly grin. 

“I told you,” Steve insisted. “I made sure to pack everything on your list.” He met Eddie’s gaze in the rearview, and the older boy was suddenly sheepish that he’d been caught staring. “Can you believe this one made me pack bear spray?”

“This one knows that bear sightings in the national park are rare but possible,” you said pointedly. “And if you keep pestering me, I’ll use it to repel you.”

Steve lurched back, clutching his chest like he was wounded. Eddie watched as he propped up on his elbows, grinning up at you while you shook your head with mild amusement. It was hard for him not to feel left out. 

Because pre-Harrington, your dynamic was great. Maybe you were a bit too top-40 for his tastes, but he would put up with Pat Benatar if it meant he could see you dancing and singing along with a huge smile on your face. You liked painting his nails— usually black, because you loved to match his clothes, but on occasion, he’d let you make it more like you. A nice red or a sparkly top coat. Lucas, Mike, and Dustin always gave him shit about it, but he didn’t care. 

Simply put— you were his favorite person, even though he might not say it in so many words. He liked the way you were when it was just the two of you against the world. Nights reading Tolkien, Stephen King, and Bradbury on his bed, your fingers twirling his hair absentmindedly. He’d learn the chords to your favorite songs so you could sing along into a hairbrush while he watched in awe. Hell, you’d even joined Hellfire for a campaign or two when you had the time. 

And then there was Harrington. Dustin, the traitor that he was, thought he was doing his friend a favor by introducing the two of you. Little matchmaker hadn’t considered that maybe his other friend was too nervous to tell his best friend he was in love. So there Eddie was— stuck between the middle of two oblivious idiots, pining after the best friend who was into someone else. And maybe sometimes (or a lot of the time) he couldn’t figure out who he wanted to be more, Steve or you.

It was like something out of a shitty coming-of-age movie and he wanted no part of it. 

The rest of the car ride wasn’t exactly torture, but Eddie wasn’t looking forward to the ride home. The arrival at the campground was welcomed, and he was grateful to escape the car and the stupid tension between you and Steve. 

You hopped out of the back of the van and enveloped Eddie in a hug, squeezing him tightly. “Happy graduation, Eds,” you said, muffled against his clothes. “This is gonna be the best trip ever.”

———

You were sweating fucking buckets. Steve was slathering himself in sunscreen and bug spray, already pouting at the red bumps on his arms and legs where mosquitos had stopped for lunch. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Eddie— his foot propped on a log as he retied his boots, leather jacket removed and slung over a shoulder. His long hair was tacky, sticking to his forehead. 

With a shake of your head, you averted your attention to setting up the first tent to be unpacked— the boys’ tent. The instructions weren’t exactly helpful, and neither Steve nor Eddie was a boy scout. You weren’t much for camping— but you figured it would be the easiest thing to get Eddie to agree to. Unfortunately, none of you knew shit about what it entailed. 

“Hey, does anyone know how to tie a decent knot?” You asked, furrowing your brows at the instructions. “I’ve gotta figure out how to tie these strings to the stakes in the ground.”

You glanced at Steve first and he shrugged. “Don’t look at me,” he said, throwing his hands up defensively. “My dad bought this for all those father-son camping trips we never went on. Safe to say I don’t know how to set it up.”

Next was Eddie, who shook his head simply. “I’m decent with knots, but not any that are useful outside of my bedroom.” He grinned and you rolled your eyes, tossing a random stick in his direction. But… you would be lying if you said that heat didn’t bloom in your cheeks and belly at his words. 

Steve sidled up beside you, taking the string into his hands. “I’ll try my best, but if this thing collapses don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

With much effort and more than a few total collapses, you and Steve managed to get the tent to stand up on its own. It was your pride and joy, and you looked down at it with hands on your hips and the confidence of a new parent. 

“Alright, I’m not doing the second one,” you said definitively. “It should be in the back of the van. It’s yellow, a bit smaller than this one.”

Eddie nodded, trudging towards the back of his van. You watched him throw open the doors and rifle around in the bags there. Groceries, spare clothes, drug paraphernalia. His brows furrowed, and he gave a worried backward glance. He tossed the air mattresses onto the ground— deflated and sad looking— but kept digging around in your gear. 

“It’s uh…” He hesitated. “Harrington, come help me look through this,” Steve jogged over, putting a hand on the older boy’s shoulder as he surveyed the back of the van. You watched as both of their shoulders deflated at the same time and braced yourself as they turned around. “There’s no second tent in here.”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “No way,” you replied. “No, because I told you both that the yellow tent was leaning up against the air mattresses and not to forget it while I packed the food.”

Steve stepped forwards, looking guilty. “It’s my fault. I was the one who packed the van so I should’ve noticed.”

And then Eddie stepped forward. “No, it’s my fault. I double-checked and I still didn’t realize it wasn’t there.’

A groan escaped your lips as you stormed forward to grab the air mattresses, taking them into your arms. “You aren’t ‘no I’m Spartacus’-ing your way out of this one.” You tossed the deflated mattresses into the tent and huffed. “And I hope you both remembered the air pump, or you’ll be blowing those up with your mouths.”

You sat on the tailgate of the van, watching Steve and Eddie taking turns blowing up the mattresses. They were more than willing to throw accusations around about who really forgot the air pump (but you honestly had your money on Steve). Eventually, they tossed the blown-up mattresses into the tent and sat back, the last rays of sunlight casting a golden glow over them both. 

“You’re pouting, Princess,” Eddie accused, sitting down beside you.

“I’ll be fine,” you insisted. “I’ll just… sleep in your musty van tonight.” You looked at him sidelong and he laughed. 

You both went quiet, watching Steve as he tried to build a fire in the designated fire pit. His jeans were tight on his ass, and you were unabashedly staring. It was fine, whatever. You stared at people’s asses all the time. Like Eddie, for example. 

“It’s nice here,” Eddie piped up after a while, pulling you in with an arm around your shoulder. You sighed contentedly, feeling the denim of his vest soft against your cheek. He smelled like cigarettes and whatever cheap deodorant he wore. You bought him some expensive cologne for his birthday a few months back, and you could smell the remnants of it on the denim. He’d long since run out from overusing it to mask the smell of pot and cigarette smoke at school. 

You nodded, peering up at him. “I told you it would be,” you replied. “I was thinking tomorrow we could hike some of the trails. Get some fresh air, see some views.”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to,” he replied, his voice unusually soft. He glanced away and you felt your cheeks burn hot without knowing why. “Uh, maybe I should go help Steve with the fire.” You nodded and shifted away from him, placing your hands awkwardly in your lap as he hopped down and approached the other boy. 

Looking at the two of them made you feel like your life was turned upside down. One moment, you were head over heels for Steve, and the next you were mooning over Eddie. But you’d known Eddie most of your life— if something was going to happen, it already would have, right? You sighed, grabbing your bag and retrieving your camera from inside. A nice Polaroid that Nancy and The Wheelers had gotten you for your birthday. 

You approached the fire pit and paused, squinting into the tiny viewfinder before snapping a picture. Steve whirled around as the picture popped out of the top. 

“C’mon, you’re acting like my mom on prom night,” he groaned. 

You made a face. “My mom took prom pictures of you,” you accused.

“Fine, you’re acting like your mom on prom night,” he replied. You held up the camera again and Steve reluctantly smiled, giving you just enough time to get a picture. 

Eddie eyed you warily as you circled the firepit, which was just beginning to smoke as he rubbed a stick against another piece of firewood. He didn’t even have time to flip off the camera before you took the picture, much to your amusement. You sat atop a bench made by someone long before your trip out of a log and watched him carefully, the camera forgotten in your lap. 

It was a few more minutes before the fire took, sparking against the dry firewood and catching easily. Eddie cupped his hand around it and blew softly until the flame grew. You didn’t miss the tiny fist pump when he had well and truly made a campfire, and you could see how proud of himself he was. 

“Aw, baby’s first fire,” Steve said with a dopey grin. Eddie scoffed, wiping his hands on his jeans as he stood. 

“I used to light shit on fire all the time growing up,” Eddie said. “This is just more rustic.” He stretched, his shirt riding up on his waist so you could see the pale expanse of his stomach and the light dusting of hair below his belly button. You swallowed. Hard.  

“Alright, what’s next?” Steve asked, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know how this camping thing works.”

“Now…” Eddie said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a joint with a flourish and you rolled your eyes playfully at his dramatic behavior. “We toke up.”

———

Steve wasn’t stupid. He knew the difference between a crush and a friend. It was the kind of stuff you learned in third grade when you start chasing girls for fun at recess and get kissed behind the slide. 

For example, he knew that his feelings for you were beyond platonic. He remembered prom, the gold taffeta and black velvet dress was stiff against his hands as he slow danced with you. Thanks, you had said, for not letting me go alone. You’re a good friend, Steve. If things were different, he would’ve kissed you while that Madonna song played, because damn it,  he was crazy for you. 

But sometimes, things got confusing. Things that shouldn’t be confusing but were. Because his heart would race when Eddie’s fingers brushed his, passing him the joint. And he was pretty sure it wasn’t the drugs and it wasn’t the beer he’d been drinking. It was just him. 

A stupid, dopey smile would play at his lips when Eddie would tell a wildly dramatized story about some boring day-to-day event that had happened. He could manage to twist bumping into Jason Carver at the gas station into a riveting epic battle between good and evil. And sometimes Eddie stood close to him and Steve felt his heart pound and his head felt dizzy and all he could do was stare at the other boy’s lips while he talked. 

You were roasting a marshmallow over the fire, letting it get golden, then blackened, before you finally pulled it out and extinguished it with a quick puff of air. You held the skewered marshmallow in his direction, pushing it towards his lips. He took a bite, feeling it singe his tongue for a moment. You laughed and reached forward, brushing your thumb along his bottom lip, eyes-half lidded as you swept away remnants of marshmallow. 

“Here, just lick it off,” you said with a grin. He swallowed, meeting Eddie’s gaze briefly, his cheeks burning hot before you pushed your thumb between his lips and he cleaned off the sticky remnants. You tasted sweet from the marshmallow and smoky from holding onto the joint. You moved your thumb back and wiped your hand off on your shorts. Biting the rest of the marshmallow casually before skewering another. 

Steve licked his lips, and he could almost imagine the taste of your skin there. Eddie was already working on rolling another joint, his work careful and deliberate. Heat bloomed in his chest as the older boy’s tongue darted out, licking the rolling paper to seal it. 

He made himself look away suddenly, occupying himself with the cassette player he had brought. It was your mix inside, a combination of songs you listened to with him and songs you listened to with Eddie. It made a discordant setlist that could go from Metallica to Billy Joel so quickly it would make his head spin. In the middle of a Quiet Riot song that he thought he had heard on the radio once or twice, Steve popped out the cassette and immediately regretted it. Both yours and Eddie’s gaze turned on him, and he stumbled through a shitty response. 

“I wanted to show you guys a mix I made.” He immediately cursed himself internally. He really didn’t want to show Eddie Munson of all people his mix, especially because he knew that he would tear it to absolute shreds with no remorse. He had done so in the past. 

There was no going back, so Steve popped in the cassette and handed you the aptly titled “Steddie Mix <3” so you could tuck it away safely. As soon as he pressed play, he regretted his attempt at branching out his music taste. Because he liked New Order, he really did, but the song choice felt too on the nose. 

Eddie’s face scrunched up in mild discontent. “New age shit, Harrington?” He asked. Steve’s face burned. “What’s this one called?”

Steve swallowed. “Uh, ‘Bizarre Love Triangle.’” Eddie raised his brows, almost in recognition, but said nothing else. He just lit his new joint, took a pull, then reached across you to pass it over to Steve. 

He was grateful as he took a hit, only coughing slightly as he held it in his lungs. He was suddenly aware of the fact that Eddie’s lips were just in the same place that his were, and if he thought about it harder, it was like a kiss that had been deconstructed. He took another pull and passed the joint to you. He wondered if you were thinking about the same things he was. 

Maybe he should just tell you how he felt, maybe he should use his lowered inhibitions to confess everything, even if it made things worse. But that was a bad idea, and even he knew that. It was best to just bite his tongue and smoke with the two of you, listen to his mix, and eat a goddamn s'more. He didn’t need to ruin the nice trip because he was confused. It would work itself out eventually. 

He hoped. 

“So, Eddie,” you said as you passed him the joint, now decorated with a smudge of your lipstick. “What’s next for you now that you’re a high school graduate?”

Eddie sighed, stretching out his legs, his leather boots dangerously close to the campfire. “Dunno,” he shrugged. “Move somewhere nicer than the shithole that is Hawkins. Form a new band, meet a nice girl or guy or something.” Steve tried to conceal his shock so he didn’t look like an asshole or a bigot. “What about you, Harrington? You’re one year out from the hellhole that is Hawkins High… Big plans?”

Steve swallowed. “Uh.” His face was burning hot, surely pink up to the tips of his ears. “I don’t exactly have opportunities jumping out at me, you know?” The admission made shame well in his stomach. “I want to move out soon, maybe find a community college that doesn’t care about my shitty high school GPA. Meet a nice girl… or guy.” He took a swig of his beer, almost forgotten beside him, and relished having something to shut him up. 

You held up your own bottle, the brown glass gleaming in the firelight. “To big plans,” you said. Steve tapped his bottle against yours, and Eddie held up his joint. 

The campfire was dying, but you all stayed there, getting that delicious mixture of tipsy and high until all that was left were embers. 

———

The tent was pretty big— one of those giant canvas monstrosities that you could stand up in— but you were still all crammed inside like sardines, tossing and turning to get comfortable. Steve’s arm slung across your waist, but he was warm and you were sweaty so you shrugged his touch off. 

“This sucks,” you groaned, turning onto your back to stare up at the peak of the tent. “It’s hot and cramped and I’m going to kill both of you for leaving my tent back home.” You sat up suddenly, your lowered inhibitions getting in the way of your better judgment. You tore off the pajama top you slept in, leaving you only in a pair of silky shorts and a bra. You laid back, a frown still painting your lips at the sticky feel of your skin. 

It was fucking hot. And it didn’t help that Steve was like a furnace. Neither of the boys seemed too bothered by the sweltering heat in the tent. Eddie was pretty much already asleep in his plaid pajama pants, ripped at the knee and torn around the ankles. He was sprawled on his stomach, one arm tucked under his head like a pillow, a thin blanket slung around his waist. 

And Steve was fine, although he looked concerned that you were uncomfortable. He slept in a thin white tank top and sweatpants, which made him look more handsome than he needed to be. “I’ll sleep in the car if you want,” he said, his voice just below a whisper. “I just need to ask Eddie for the keys.”

You shook your head. “No, he’s already asleep, I think,” you replied. “I’ll be fine. Just go to sleep.” He nodded, offering a tired smile before turning onto his side, his legs curled slightly into himself. A deep sigh escaped you as you closed your eyes. 

For the next hour, Eddie slept fitfully, tossing and turning back and forth until you were partly convinced he was just as awake as you felt. Steve, on the other hand, seemed to be peacefully sleeping— scooting closer to you unconsciously as he slept, until he was tucked into your side and his leg was nestled between yours. And then Eddie turned onto his side, pressed firmly against you until he hooked his leg over yours and pulled you close like a koala. 

God, they were needy when they were asleep. Eddie’s breath was soft against your throat, and you could feel from the cadence of it that he was asleep. You shifted between them and Eddie hummed softly, a sweet sound you hadn’t known could escape him. You were long since sober, but the feeling of his breath on you and Steve’s fingers on your bare skin made you feel euphoric. 

Between the two of them, it was easy to forget the heat. You were far more focused on how they were touching you, the feel of their hair tickling your skin and each sleepy shift in their movements. Still, sweat beaded along your back, tacky where baby pieces of hair curled at the base of your neck. 

Eddie made a sleepy hum as he shifted closer, practically nuzzling against you. It made sudden sense why he slept with a body pillow in his bed, aside from the obvious reasons. He was a touchy person while awake, always nudging or wrapping himself around whoever he was talking to. And he was just the same when he was sleeping. 

He mumbled something groggily as you wriggled slightly, trying to get comfortable. His hand wrapped around your waist, just above Steve’s, tugging you into him. 

Oh shit. You froze as you felt something prodding against your ass. This is why you wanted your own tent. 

“Eddie,” you whispered softly. “Are you awake?” He didn’t respond, and you knew he had to be asleep, or else he’d be panicking and apologizing and making a weird big deal about his random nighttime boner. 

Steve blinked slowly beside you, his brows furrowed to see you in the dark. “What’s goin’ on?” He slurred sleepily. His thumb rubbed lazy circles on your skin.

Your face burned. “It’s nothing,” you lied. His knee shifted between your legs as he moved, and your heart hammered. You were all so fucking close to each other. “Eddie’s just holding me a little tight.”

Steve lifted the dead weight of Eddie’s arm slowly, so as not to disturb him and nodded your way. “C’mere, I’ll scoot so you have more room.” You wriggled as you attempted to free yourself from Eddie’s leg pinning you down. Eddie moaned softly, rutting against you. 

A shiver ran through you at the soft sounds escaping his lips, the way his breath felt against your throat. You were liking this way more than you should have been, especially with him asleep. 

“Eddie, c’mon, wake up,” you said, a little louder now that Steve was awake. 

“Mmmph.” He buried his face in your hair. 

The air mattress moved with another shift of Eddie’s hips, and he gasped again at the feeling, perhaps a bit more awake than he was before. 

Steve swallowed as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he could see the way Eddie was practically grinding himself against you in his sleep. “Is he…?” He trailed off. “We should wake him up.”

“Yeah,” you said on an exhale. “Yeah, we should.”

You reached back and shook Eddie’s shoulder, hoping to rattle him awake. He groaned and rolled off of you, a frown painting his lips as he squinted into the dark. 

“Can’t see shit,” Eddie muttered, quickly reaching up to flick on the lantern. The sudden light made you groan with annoyance, shielding your eyes until they could adjust. 

 Great. Now you were all completely awake again. “Why’s your fuckin’ top off?” Eddie asked groggily after glancing over at you. You tugged your blanket up quickly, heat blooming in your cheeks as his eyes narrowed. “Were you and Harrington fucking?”

“What?!” Steve nearly yelped. 

“No!” You insisted. 

Eddie laughed, rolling onto his side, his head propped up on his hand. “Good, ‘cause I would’ve felt left out.” You swallowed, blinking up at him as his words sank in. Steve was uncharacteristically quiet, and you were so conscious of his hand on your stomach, still there even though you were well past being able to blame closeness on being asleep. 

Eddie furrowed his brows at both of you. “That was a joke. What’s up with you two?”

Well, I’m sandwiched between two guys who I want to sleep with and one of them was dry humping me in my sleep. That’s what's up with me. “It’s just hot in here.”

Eddie sighed in conceit, throwing the blanket off of himself. Even in the dark, you could see the tent that had formed in his flannel pajamas. Your heart thrummed and your head swam with thoughts you shouldn’t have had about a best friend. 

“Where are you going?” You asked, sitting up. 

Eddie furrowed his brows. “Full disclosure?” You nodded. “I’m going to take care of my situation.”

Your eyes went wide. “You can’t go out there right now!” 

Steve sat up then, glancing between the two of you. “Why not?”

“Bears!”

Eddie snorted, shaking his head. “Oh my god. A bear isn’t going to come kill me while I jack off.”

You slapped his arm. “I’m serious, Eddie! You heard the park ranger on the way in. It’s bear season. You’re not going.”

He rolled his eyes. “What do you suggest, hm? Pray the boner away?”

Heat bloomed in your cheeks and you shook your head. “No, I mean, just take care of it here.”

Eddie looked like he’d just been struck dumb. His eyes widened, and he swallowed hard. “You’re totally serious right now?”

You plucked at a stray thread on your blanket, suddenly far more interested in the poorly made quilt than meeting Eddie’s gaze. “I mean… yeah it’s safer than going out there.” You peered up at him. “I’m trying to look out for you.”

The tiniest of smiles turned up his lips, and you felt your heart begin to race as he inched impossibly closer to you. He smelled like a campfire and you wanted to just breathe him in. Your lashes fluttered as he looked at you. 

“You sure that’s all you’re trying to do?”

You stammered. “What?” Your voice came out high and pitchy, and you cursed your stupid vocal cords for betraying you.

“Back me up, Steve,” Eddie said, drawing the younger boy’s attention back to the two of you. It seemed that he was trying his best to be occupied by the flat canvas of the tent wall. 

“Hm?” Steve scratched at the back of his neck, his cheeks were impossibly red. 

“Doesn’t it seem like she’s trying to get me to jerk off in front of you two?” Eddie raised a brow as Steve swallowed hard. “Oh… you’re into that, aren’t you pretty boy?”

Steve stammered, but it was impossible to hide it. The thin blanket across his lap couldn’t hide his obvious hard-on, no matter how he shifted and squirmed to hide it. 

Eddie was eating the attention up. You and Steve, squirming and embarrassed as he called you both out on your lewd thoughts. It was like Christmas and his birthday rolled into one. 

He laid back on the stupid blow-up mattress, one arm thrown behind his head. You bit down on your tongue to keep a gasp from escaping your lips at the sight of his tattooed bicep. Eddie Munson was so fucking handsome it made your teeth ache. 

You could hear Steve’s breath catch as Eddie closed his eyes, letting his hand slip beneath the band of his pants. “Mmm…” A gratified moan escaped his lips as he took his length into his hand, concealed by his pajamas. “Fuck me.”

His head fell back against his pillow, the expanse of his neck looking oh so inviting. Want stirred within you, throbbing at your core. Of all the ways you had seen him before, nothing could have prepared you for this. 

A whimper escaped Steve beside you, and your heart stuttered at the noise.  He couldn’t help himself, that much was obvious. He rubbed along the outline of his cock in his sweatpants, rutting into his grip. 

“This is so stupid,” you said suddenly. Eddie’s movements didn’t falter, didn’t cease as he looked at you expectantly. “Why should we all get off by ourselves when we can just… use each other?” You swore internally. “I mean… what’s a bit of fucking around between friends?”

Steve groaned. “Jesus fuck.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and you couldn’t help but relish how pretty he was. “You can use me, I don’t—“ His lips met your shoulder, peppering kisses on the sweat-sticky skin. “I don’t fucking care. I want it.”

Eddie cried out, watching as Steve fucked into his hand and placed wet, open-mouthed kisses anywhere he could reach. He dipped down, mouthing at your tits over your bra with desperate hunger. His moans vibrated against your skin as you replaced his hand with your own, stroking him through his sweats. 

“God, what did I say about feeling left out,” Eddie muttered, sitting up so he could join the two of you. His mouth met yours instantly— an eager meeting of tongues and teeth. You gasped at the feeling of his tongue against yours, the domineering way that he claimed your mouth as his own. 

Steve was bucking into your hand, keening against your skin. You’d never known him to be so needy— the king Steve who you had crushed on when you sat in the bleachers at basketball games and swim meets. The cocky bravado that you noticed when he paraded around the natatorium in nothing but the horrible Hawkins-green speedos. 

But he was desperate, and you had never known you could love that so much. He kissed your skin with reverence, pulling down the cups of your bra to suck on your tits. He groaned against supple skin, nuzzling into them. 

“Why don’t you—“ Eddie’s words were cut off by you leaning up and capturing his lips in a sloppy kiss. He pulled back and held your chin in place with his thumb. “Why don’t you take Harrington’s cock out, hm? Make pretty boy feel good for us.” He glanced over to Steve, whose pupils were blown wide. “How does that sound, Steve? You want us to make you feel good?”

“Mhmm,” Steve moaned against you. “Whatever— shit— whatever you want.”

Eddie grinned like the cat who got the cream, brushing his thumb over your lip briefly. “You hear that?” He asked, ever-so-dramatic. “Stevie here says he wants whatever we want.” You gave a shuddering breath as you blinked up at Eddie. “Do you want something, sweetheart?”

“To touch him,” you said in what was barely a whisper, your voice failing you. “Wanna make him cum for us.”

Eddie pet your hair affectionately, but there was something more in his gaze. “How benevolent of you.” His hand moved from your chin, traveling down the side of your throat and abdomen until it found the elastic of your shorts. “What if I gave that sweet pussy of yours some attention while you so graciously focus on Harrington? You want that? You want your best friend to eat your pussy until you’re begging for mercy?”

You nodded wordlessly, too wired to form a complete sentence. He slid his hand beneath your waistband, holding your gaze as he breached the elastic of your panties just as easily. His fingers stopped just short of your clit, resting firmly on your mound. 

“Are you gonna be wet when I touch you down there, sweetheart? Does touching Harrington’s cock while kissing me get you all hot and bothered?” He asked, grinning when your cheeks flared with heat. “Aw… don’t be shy. Tell me the truth.”

You nodded just as he let his middle finger brush your clit, a gasp ripping past your lips. He smiled wickedly, dipping his fingers further until he found a pool of slick at your center. 

Eddie clicked his tongue disapprovingly as you tried to grind yourself against his fingers. “Don’t forget about pretty boy over here,” he chided. “Can’t just be you having all the fun, can it? I thought your whole idea was for us to use each other?”

His voice was teasing and pretty. You were pretty sure that in that moment he could read an encyclopedia cover to cover and you would be a dripping mess by page three. 

Steve’s breath caught as your fingers caught on the elastic of his sweats, tugging down just enough to free his cock. Sheepishness made his cheeks flush, and he swallowed hard as you took in the sight of him, tongue darting out to lick your lips. 

“It’s okay, right?” He asked hesitantly. 

“It’s fucking perfect, Steve,” you replied as you took him into your hand, eliciting a gratified moan from his pretty lips. He buried his face in your neck as you stroked his length, relishing in each desperate noise you pulled from him.

You were so distracted by the pretty noises he was making that you hadn’t even noticed Eddie getting comfortable between your legs until his rings stung cold on your burning hot thighs.

He peeled your shorts down your legs, his lips following the path that his fingers brushed down your legs. A pretty smile spread across his lips at the sight of white cotton covering your modesty. He made a face that looked nearly pained with desire, hunger dripping from every feature. “C’mon, sweetheart, you’re killing me.” You grinned as he peppered kisses along the plush of your thighs, leaving your skin glistening in each spot his mouth claimed. 

“Keep going, baby,” Eddie instructed. “You stop, I stop.” Oh, you realized suddenly. You’d stopped touching Steve. 

It was hard to focus on giving Steve an adequate handjob with Eddie’s face between your thighs. He placed wet, open-mouthed kisses on your pussy through the pristine white cotton, groaning at the smell of your desire. Steve, however, didn’t seem to mind. He turned your face with the gentlest of touches to your jaw and captured your mouth with his. 

There was a lot to love about kissing Steve. He was gentle, no matter how desperate he felt. His lips brushed against yours reverently, soft and supple against your own. You had always thought that he had a pretty mouth— pretty everything— and you supposed he got his reputation for a reason. But somehow, that reputation led you to believe that he would be completely different like this— rough where he was soft, domineering where he was pliable. Each moan into your mouth was like a reward, and you found yourself lost in the way he sounded when his moans were swallowed up by you. 

Eddie didn’t bother with taking your panties off— not yet. He simply tugged them to the side and buried his face in your cunt. You gasped into Steve’s mouth, grabbing onto his shoulders for purchase as Eddie feasted on you. Your thighs trembled as his tongue explored you, dipping into your entrance before teasing at your clit. He moaned low and throaty as he wrapped his lips around your clit, suckling until you had to pull back from kissing Steve to cry out in earnest. 

Eddie watched you from between your thighs, his big, pretty eyes darkened with desire. He looked every bit the fallen angel that Hawkins believed him to be, and you couldn’t get enough. You moved your free hand to his hair, just as soft as you’d expected it to be as you tangled your fingers in it. When he moaned against your pussy it felt like heaven.

“Does it feel good?” Steve asked, his words buzzing against your jaw as he traced it with warm kisses. Your face burned with desire and sheepishness at the question. “‘S Eddie’s mouth making you this desperate?” His breath was shallow as you stroked him, and you could sense that he was doing all he could to maintain some semblance of control. 

“And you.” It took everything within you to meet his gaze while Eddie was quite literally tongue-fucking you. Steve cried out as your thumb teased the head of his cock, bucking into your fist. He swore, moving your hand from around him, a sheepish blush painting his cheeks. 

“Nearly made me bust in your hand like a fucking teenager,” he muttered, but the adoring expression in his gaze told you he didn’t mind that much. “Sound too pretty with Munson between your thighs. Driving me crazy.” Every few words, Steve left needy kisses along your throat, his big hands groping at your tits, making you arch into him. Each noise that he and Eddie pulled from within you made his cock twitch in his lap, still aching and needy. 

Eddie was fucking relentless— thick fingers probing inside of you, stretching you out while his tongue laved at your clit. You could feel the mess that you and he had made of your thighs, of the blanket beneath you. Everything was sticky and wet, and Jesus Christ, you could hear how hungrily he feasted on you and how wet you were as his fingers plunged in and out. 

And beneath all of it, you could feel him mumbling against you— broken sentences that would have made you blush in the daylight. Taste just like heaven. Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Sucking my fingers right in.

You could practically taste how close you were— metallic on the back of your tongue. Eddie groaned as your grip on his hair tightened and your ground your cunt against his fingers and mouth. 

“That’s it,” Steve hummed against your skin. “Let go for us. Show us how pretty you look when you cum.” And with Steve fucking Harrington talking like that in your ear, did you really have any choice? 

In all of your life up until that point, you’d never experienced a feeling quite like it. Eddie’s mouth on you, the way he stretched you with his fingers, Steve’s mouth on your tits. Your thighs clamped around Eddie’s head as he worked you through your orgasm, muscles tensing until you came down with a broken moan. He placed a few featherlight kisses to your clit, making your legs tremble.

When he sat back, his face glistened with your desire. His lips were swollen and puffy from use, even prettier when he grinned up at you and Steve. “Fuckin’ ambrosia.” He slotted himself between the two of you, that smug look on his face not even budging. His gaze moved to Steve, and you watched the younger boy swallow hard at the attention. “C’mere, Harrington. Have a taste.”

Steve’s eyes went wide as Eddie tilted his head up with a firm hand beneath his chin, tugging his mouth open slowly. With a gentle nod, Steve opened his mouth, peering up at Eddie expectantly. You watched through your lashes as Eddie spit onto Steve’s tongue, thick with your essence. He wiped at Steve’s bottom lip as he closed his mouth and swallowed. 

There was a moment of complete stillness between the three of you, like you were each waiting to make the next move. You glanced between the two men, watching them look at each other, trying to read their limits in each other’s faces. 

You could see the moment Steve broke— the hungry, desperate fuck it that played in his mind as he practically lunged forward to capture Eddie’s lips with his. His hands tangled in Eddie’s long, unruly hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Eddie moaned into Steve’s mouth, and you shivered as you watched their tongues brush each other as they leaned back in for more. 

“Fuck, Harrington,” Eddie gasped as he pulled back. You watched his eyes rake over Steve’s body, the awkward combination of no pants and the tank top that had ridden up his stomach. “We’ve gotta get you undressed.”

Ever-so-eager, Steve tugged off his shirt before you or Eddie could move to do it for him, messing up his hair in the process. You grinned, leaning in to run your fingers through it, and he leaned into your touch. 

“You taste good,” Steve said, meeting your gaze with a tiny smirk. You rolled your eyes and pecked his lips. 

“She feels good too,” Eddie said, running his warm hands up and down your thighs. You shivered, squeezing your thighs together as a wave of desire rushed through you. “I bet you want to feel her, dontcha? Get your dick wet? Don’t worry, I got her nice and ready for you.” As if to demonstrate, he eased your legs apart and tugged your panties down. When you were bare for them, he swiped a finger through your folds, revealing it to be glistening with your wetness. Your heart thrummed as he popped that finger in his mouth, cleaning it with his tongue. 

Steve’s eyes went wide and he swallowed. “You haven’t done anything yet,” Steve said, glancing down at the hard-on confined within Eddie’s pajama pants. 

Eddie waved him off. “I’m being generous, pretty boy. Trust me, I’ll enjoy watching you fuck her as much as you’ll enjoy doing it.”

You shook your head, fingers slipping beneath the elastic waist of his flannel pajamas. “Mmm… nope,” you said, peering up at him. “What if I blow you while Steve’s fucking me instead? Then you can trade and I can clean him up.”

Eddie raised a brow as he looked at you. “You been thinking about this a lot?” You nodded, teeth digging into your bottom lip to contain your sheepish smile. “Yeah? You want both of us, hm? So greedy for cock you can’t pick?” A whimper escaped you as you nodded. He smiled and glanced over your shoulder at Steve. “Alright, Harrington, let’s give the lady what she wants.”

Eddie was quick to lay back on the mattress, nodding for you to slot yourself between his legs. Of course he had left his clothes on, wanting you to undress him. You settled on all fours, back arched as you pulled off Eddie’s pants. You licked your lips, blinking up at Eddie with newfound hunger. 

“Aw, are you speechless sweetheart?” He asked, petting your face with a smug grin. You rolled your eyes, but Eddie still looked rather proud of himself. And holy shit when did he get a tattoo on his thigh? 

Steve leaned over you, kissing between your shoulder blades. “You ready for me?” He asked. You shivered as he brushed your into his fist, keeping it out of your face. 

“Yes, Steve, please,” you gasped, wiggling your hips impatiently. Eddie grinned, meeting Steve’s gaze over your head. 

“We’ve gotta get her attitude in check, don’t we?” Eddie asked. He took his cock into his hand and stroked himself as you watched, waiting and eager to get him into your mouth. “Don’t worry, we’ll get her all straightened out.”

Steve’s cock teased your entrance, but he paused reaching around until his hand was in front of your mouth. “Spit for me?” He asked. You could feel heat rise in your cheeks, but you obliged him, spitting into his hand. “You too, Munson.”

“I like this side of you, Harrington. You’re so bossy,” Eddie said, leaning forward to spit into Steve’s hand. You turned, looking over your shoulder as Steve used his spit-slick hand to stroke his cock, gathering precum from the tip as he worked his hand. 

You grasped onto Eddie’s thighs as Steve’s cock pressed against your entrance, stretching you with each inch that pushed inside. You cried out when he was fully sheathed within you, clenching around him as he stilled, letting you acclimate to his size. A whimper escaped your lips and Eddie laughed condescendingly, petting your hair. 

“Aw, Stevie, I think she wants you to move.” 

He was so smug, and so attractive, and you loved Eddie so much that it was infuriating. Here he was, smiling and acting casual as if you weren’t actively dripping around Steve Harrington’s cock while your mouth was inches away from his own. Fuck smugness. You looked at him through your lashes as you let your tongue trace him from base to tip, eliciting a shaky moan. You smirked, feeling rather proud of yourself, and took him into your mouth completely. 

He swore, grabbing a fistful of your hair as you took him deeper, spit slicking your hand where you grasped his length. Steve couldn’t have held out any longer if he wanted to— not with the sounds you and Eddie were making, the way your walls were fucking squeezing him. He gave an experimental thrust and you cried out, your voice muffled filthily by the mouthful of Eddie’s cock.

“Fuck, feels so good,” Steve cried out, dropping your hair to grasp onto your hips so he could pull you back onto him with every thrust. Every noise you made was strangled like it was being ripped from your lungs. You weren’t alone in being ridiculously loud, which was reassuring. Steve couldn’t seem to keep himself quiet at all— wasn’t even bothering with volume control. He sounded so pretty that you wished you could record it and play it over and over. 

Eddie was a step down from Steve, but certainly wasn’t quiet. Where Steve was all breathy moans and swears, Eddie was low, guttural moans that made you shiver. His head was tossed back against the floral pillowcase you had brought, the veins on his neck prominent with each pretty noise he made. 

“That’s it,” Steve praised as you slipped a hand beneath yourself to rub at your clit. “Keep touching yourself like that.” He cried out, fucking into you deeper and harder. “Fuck, you feel so good. Squeezing me so tight. Fucking perfect.”

You were drooling around Eddie’s cock, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth and spilling down your hand. It was messy and desperate but Eddie was fucking loving it. Each whimper around him, each time you gagged or had tears well up in your eyes as you looked up at him— it was fucking heaven. 

You moved your mouth from him, lips swollen and puffy as you caught your breath between whimpers. Eddie wiped your mouth with his thumb tenderly, the tiniest of adoring smiles on his lips, not that anyone would believe you if you said it. You continued jerking him off in time with Steve’s thrusts, which only drove him crazier. 

“Aww, pretty girl’s getting close,” Eddie cooed, though the bravado present earlier wasn’t as striking when he was so utterly fucked. “Gonna cum again for us?”

You whimpered, nodding desperately. You mouthed at the head of his cock, your tongue laving it sloppily as Steve fucked you. Your fingers stumbled to keep their rhythm on your clit as you got closer and closer, thighs trembling with the effort not to buckle.

A guttural, desperate moan escaped you as you came, trembling with the intensity of your second climax of the night. You shivered as you came down, whimpering as Steve fucked into your sensitive cunt. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Steve gasped, urgency in his tone. “Tell me where you want it.”

You were slow with the euphoria weighing down your veins. Before you could respond, Eddie piped up. “C’mere, Harrington.” Steve’s eyes went wide, but he pulled out, stroking along his soaked length as he settled next to Eddie. You watched through heavy lids as Eddie replaced Steve’s hand with his own, jerking him off tentatively as he looked up at him. “This okay?”

“M-more,” Steve nearly pleaded. Eddie raised a brow, his lips quirking up in a grin. 

“You mind if I take care of Steve, Sweetheart?” Eddie asked. You shook your head, a sated smile painting your lips as you watched Eddie sit up on his knees, peering up at Steve through his lashes. “Go ahead, pretty boy. I’m all yours.”

You knew that Steve wouldn’t last long. He held onto Eddie’s hair like a lifeline as the metalhead took him into his mouth, tasting your desire on his length. Eddie moaned at the taste, at the feel of Steve’s cock heavy on his tongue. 

“Shit,” Steve cried out, his voice wavering. “Oh fuck. ‘M gonna cum.” His warning didn’t deter Eddie one bit, which was admirable. You watched with a sympathetic sort of satisfaction at the sight of Steve cumming onto Eddie’s tongue. Head thrown back, stomach twitching as he drained himself completely into the older boy’s tongue. 

Eddie wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You up for more, Sweetheart?” He glanced at Steve, who had already laid down on the mattress in an attempt to catch his breath. “I think Stevie boy’s out of commission.”

You laughed, almost feeling like joining him. “For the Edward Wayne Munson? The resident freak of Hawkins, Indiana?” You asked, crawling into his lap. Your faces were so close that your noses brushed. “Always, baby.”

He inched forward, pecking your lips gently. “Didn’t exactly plan on fucking anyone on this sweet little camping trip,” he admitted. “No rubbers. You want me to pull out?”

“Nah,” you replied, grinding your hips against him. “It’ll be like your graduation present.”

“Fuck me,” He groaned, shaking his head. “If your graduation presents are this nice, maybe I’ll go to college.” You rolled your eyes, reaching between you to grasp at his cock. He shuddered, chest heaving as you lined him up with your entrance and sank down onto him. 

Both of you went still, just breathing together as you adjusted to his size. Steve had him beat in terms of girth, and that stretch felt fucking perfect, but Eddie was so fucking deep that you could practically feel him in your stomach. 

“Good?” He asked softly. You nodded wordlessly, leaning forward to kiss him again. 

You rode him in earnest, despite your muscles aching from the night’s exertions. Your own pleasure was the last thing on your mind, still thrumming from your last climax. All you wanted was to be the reason Eddie Munson was falling apart beneath you. His hair clung to the edges of his face, tacky with sweat. You had almost forgotten that the heat was a problem with everything going on. 

You glanced past Eddie to see Steve propped up on his elbows, watching you both intently. His undivided attention only made desire burn hotter within you. You rolled your hips against Eddie, arching your back to draw attention to your tits. He groaned at the sight, almost like he’d been reminded they were there. He took one of your tits into his mouth, sucking on it fervently as he groped your other breast. 

“Feel so good inside of me, Eds,” you practically purred. He groaned against your tits and you grinned. “Want you to cum in me. Fill me up, don’t waste a drop.”

“Fucking vixen,” he mumbled between groans of pleasure, peppering soft kisses along the supple skin of your chest. 

You reached up, tugging his hair so he fucking whimpered. “C’mon, baby,” you urged, riding him harder and faster despite the burning in your thighs. “Cum for me. Please, Eddie.”

He tried to hold out longer, but the sight of you practically begging for it, of your tits bouncing as you rode his cock was too much for him to handle. He held your hips in place as he came, twitching within you until you slipped off him. 

Pearly white dripped from your cunt, sticking to your thighs as you rolled off of him, claiming your place between him and Steve. You could feel your desire cooling between your thighs, the mess of spit from kisses and sweat cooling on your skin. You’d all need a long trip to the showers tomorrow. 

Steve was the first to move closer to you— nuzzling into your neck, wrapping his arm around your waist. You reached for Eddie, tugging him right against your other side. “I love you guys,” you sighed contentedly. “Now let’s get some sleep.”

———

In the morning, you had to practically pry yourself from Steve and Eddie’s arms. You stretched, goosebumps erupting over your bare skin. You should’ve dressed before bed,  but the three of you had fallen deeply asleep practically the moment you cuddled together on the shitty mattress. 

Each article of your clothing was tossed around the tent— Steve’s tank top hid your shorts, but your panties were nowhere to be found. If you had to guess… Munson. You dressed as best as you could, though, and recovered your boys with the blankets, eager to grab a drink from the cooler outside. 

You opened the tent flap and stepped outside, freezing with shock. 

“Eddie! Steve!” You called with concern. “Come look at this!” They rushed out of bed, wrapping their respective blankets around their waists to preserve a modicum of modesty before joining you. 

“Oh… shit,” Eddie said. You could hear the amusement in his tone, so thick that you didn't even have to look to see he was trying not to laugh. 

The campsite was utterly wrecked— your ice chest emptied, Steve’s bag of clothes emptied out and strewn around. Everything that hadn’t been packed back into the van had been tossed around like a tornado had blown through. 

“I told you,” you said finally. “It’s bear season.”

Steve shook his head, a tiny grin on his lips. “More of an excuse to go back to Hawkins and repeat what we did last night on a real bed, right?”

Eddie grinned, glancing between you and Steve. “You know what? That’s not a bad idea, Harrington. We pack that van now, we can be back in Hawkins screwing each other’s brains out by lunchtime.”

You sighed, crossing your arms as you looked over the wrecked campsite. “You know… we probably should. Because of the bears, and everything.”

Yeah, you thought. Thank god for bears.