honestly idk what this is, but I was clearly in A Mood.
18+, MDNI┃3.1k
cw: smut, cockwarming, piv sex, kinda sub!reader & sub!steve, kinda mean/dom-ish eddie, implied voyeurism, r referred to with she/her pronouns, hair pulling, one slap.
The air in the room had grown hot and stifling, condensation starting to steam up the windows and diffusing the muted blue light that filtered in through the glass. Steve’s broad hands rested at your hips, and you could feel every tremor of his body underneath yours. His muscles quivering, his grip tensing every couple of seconds so his fingertips dug into your soft, doughy flesh.
He kept his lips pressed together, trying to stifle the whines and whimpers that fell out of him with every torturous passing second. But you were so wet, so tight around him, he thought he might die right there enveloped in your heat.
And he would do so, happily.
“Eddie, p-please,” you mewled, turning your head trying to catch your boyfriend’s eye as he stalked around the bed. “Please let him move, it hurts…”
The pitiful lilt in your voice was laid on a little thicker than intended, but it seemed to have the desired effect. Eddie smirked as he came around to stand over you, his fingers snaking into your hair, to grasp it at the root and squeeze.
It made you clench around Steve and he huffed like a bull trying not to charge.
“What hurts, princess?” Eddie tutted. “Is Stevie’s big cock too much for you?”
Probably, yeah, you thought as your head shook against his firm hold.
It was certainly longer than any other you’d taken. Thicker too, excluding Eddie’s. Seeing it bare the first time, arousal surged in between your legs at the thought of it filling you. And as you straddled his lap and sank down onto him so, so slowly, every inch made you question your sanity.
He’d been nestled deep inside you for almost ten minutes now, both under strict instruction not to move. Not allowed so much as a wiggle to make yourself more comfortable, unless of course Eddie gave you permission to do so.
Even your hands were restricted to remain in one place, his on your hips and yours on his shoulders, palms brushing the edges of the soft down of hair in the middle of his chest, hot and sweat-slicked.
And with every passing minute, you’d only grown more desperate, more pathetic and needy, more pliant and willing to do just about anything if it earned you the sweet release you craved.
But you suspected it would be a while yet before you got it.
Eddie’s grip tightened again to yank your head back, and the sting on your scalp made you wail. Steve’s cock twitched inside you at the abject sound, his eyes trained on your parted lips and the vast expanse of your bared throat, practically begging for his lips and tongue and teeth.
He then had to watch as Eddie acted out the very thought currently running through Steve’s head, flattening his tongue at the base of your neck to lick from from your collarbone to the underside of your chin. Eyes slanted to stay locked on Steve’s, never dropping the other man’s heated gaze.
Steve’s hips squirmed, aching to thrust, his baser instincts begging to let them take control so he could fuck you like the animal he was.
It only made you cry out more, and Steve wished he could kiss an apology up the other side of your neck to your ear. If he could, he’d wrap you up in his arms as tight as he possibly could and babble out praise about how brave you were being, how well you were taking him, how long he had been wanting to do this—
“Someone else is having trouble too, huh?” Eddie chuckled, his dark eyes glinting as he tipped your head up to see the pained look on Steve’s face. “I know that pussy feels good, just look at him trying not to blow.”
Your clit throbbed, seemingly in time with every twitch of Steve’s cock. It felt as if you were trying to balance on the head of a pin, ready to fall off in every direction all at once. You shivered, the heat of Eddie’s breath in your ear as he pushed his face against the side of yours to whisper in it.
“Why don’t you do that thing I like?” he purred, loosening his hold and sliding his hand down the length of your spine. He splayed his palm wide at the small of your back and rubbed it in a circle.
Breathless, you nodded as your eyes met Steve’s, gaze softening as if to apologize for what he had coming. You didn’t lift off of him, just started to swivel your hips over his, panting as you felt his cock prodding your walls. The motion forced your clit to rub against his base, his coarse hair getting sticky with your spend. Eddie’s hand sped up, signaling you to do the same.
Steve’s head thunked against the headboard as it fell backwards, barely padded by his thick hair, the sensation of you on his cock threatening to make his brain liquify. His throat bobbed, veins in his neck bulging as blood rushed to his face, his freckled skin flushing a deep scarlet.
Eddie smirked hearing the plaintive sounds you made as you found your rhythm, a steady and yet determined grind as painful as it was pleasurable.
“Thought this is what you wanted, sweetheart,” Eddie cooed at you, a soft sound in your ear that only sent more chills running down your spine. “That’s how you got yourself in this mess, isn’t it? ‘Cos you couldn’t wait?”
He was right. If you really wanted to kiss someone, all you needed to do was ask. Eddie liked watching sometimes. Guys, girls. People he picked, people you picked. And he especially liked it afterwards, when he got free rein to remind you who you really belonged to. But that night, you’d been too reckless. Too hasty. Too greedy.
It was an accident. It didn’t mean anything. It was one little kiss—a kiss that was more than worth this punishment, if you were being honest.
You’d always kind of had a thing for Steve. It was practically impossible not to with his good looks and his boyish charm and his floppy hair and his kind eyes. But you would never do anything. You would never act on those feelings.
Not when you had Eddie to give you everything you wanted and more.
Had it not been for the party, for that unfortunate drinking game where you and Steve drained your drinks faster than everyone else, it might have never even happened.
You and Steve might never have stumbled into the kitchen looking for snacks. You might never have leaned into him or wound your arms around his waist as breathy giggles fluttered in your chest and butterfly wings flapped in your stomach. You might never have leaned in and let his lips brush yours when Steve’s nose nudged at your heated cheek, trying to get you to turn your face toward his. You might never have kissed him back.
But of all the people you could have kissed, Steve wasn’t the worst pick.
He wasn’t quite an “ex” but you knew that he and Eddie indulged in some...not so platonic activities in the past. Steve, who always had to act so tough and confident and cool and together, had found Eddie’s influence rather illuminating. He’d learned an awful lot about himself during those trysts.
How he liked to be under someone’s thumb.
How he liked to be told what to do.
How he liked to be used.
And the stories Eddie told you only further piqued your interest in the former king of Hawkins High. Because, much like him, you’d also come to enjoy Eddie’s domineering side. It made you wonder on more than one occasion what it might feel like to be between them. A kind of middle ground…
Being used by one, and you using the other.
The kiss had been good. Torrid and desperate and consuming. The feeling of it rippled through you like a live current, like lightning in your veins. It zapped your body with instant relief, and in the same instant you were overcome with a morbid excitement at the thought of being found out.
You and Steve were both far too shy, for lack of a better word, to do anything like this without the excuse of liquid courage to fall back on. And by doing it somewhere you could be caught so easily …it was almost like you wanted Eddie to see.
And he did see. When yours and Steve’s swollen lips parted, hot breath mingling as you panted heavily into one another’s mouths, the sound of Eddie clearing his throat was the only thing that stopped you from diving right back in all over again. He stood in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning on his shoulder against the frame, smirking into his beer as he took a swig.
He said nothing, though. Just let his eyes scan up and down your bodies still tangled up together, Steve pressing you up against the cabinetry.
It wasn’t until later, after the party petered out and all your other friends had gone home, that Eddie even acknowledged your existence.
He coolly instructed you and Steve to go upstairs and to take off all your clothes.
To sit on the bed and wait.
Now, here the two of you were. Just a couple of life-sized dolls for him to arrange and play with. A pair of puppets for your master.
“That’s enough,” Eddie said with a light tap to your tailbone.
Your nails dug into the meat of Steve’s shoulders when you stilled your hips abruptly, shivering as you came down from the high you had steadily been building up to. Eddie pushed his face in close, not even looking at you this time.
“You ready to move, Stevie?” he asked, practically in a whisper.
“Yes, fuck, please, can I?” Steve let out a quick, shuddering breath and you felt how his muscles spasmed under your hands as his hold on your hips tightened.
“Okay,” your boyfriend conceded with a wicked smile, “but only when I say.”
Eddie straightened and crossed his arms in front of his chest, his biceps bulging and the tendons in his arms standing out gloriously under inked skin. You were positive Steve could feel you getting wetter just at the sight if the breathy little gasp he let out was any indication.
What followed was some perverted version of Red Light, Green Light.
In his low and gravelly tone, Eddie locked his eyes on Steve’s and uttered the solitary word, “Go.”
Steve inhaled sharply and his eyes cut back to your face, his brow raising in a final silent check-in. You nodded instantly. Eagerly.
After having to sit so still for so long, the feeling of finally pushing his hips up is enough to draw a deep groan of satisfaction from his chest. Even if he couldn’t draw them back all that much, it’s enough to feel the slide of his length inside your walls and the way they stretch to welcome him in.
It’s not enough, though.
He tries circling his hips instead and starts to grind them up into your heat, taking a few tries to find the right angle—but they’re all perfect as far as you’re concerned. You let out a long, low moan and your head rolls on your shoulders, unyielding ache between your legs finally subsiding.
But almost as soon as Steve got going, Eddie called out, “Stop.”
The boy inside you obeyed, but not without letting out the tiniest little huff of frustration. He tucked his chin to his chest, drawing in another deep breath as he struggled to bring himself down just as you had.
His head of messy, tousled hair was all you could see, innumerable strands of chestnut brown locks in an artful disarray, all piled on top of and criss-crossing over one another. It made you want to bury your hands in it. Your fingers literally twitched from wanting to so bad.
A few more rounds followed. Stop. Go. Stop. Go. You lose track how many times Eddie calls them out, how many times Eddie lets Steve get you as close to the edge as he possibly can before you’re unceremoniously yanked back from the precipice.
And however bad it is for you, it’s so much worse for Steve.
He’s twice as desperate as you are by a mile. Every time he has to stop, you can feel his core clenching and his legs twitching under you, like he’s trying to kick them and can’t. He’s long past the point of using words, his eyelids drooping shut and straining to stay open he’s so pussydrunk and braindead.
Only when Eddie stands over him, pushing a hand through his hair to rake back sweaty strays, does he seem to wake up a little.
“Okay, Stevie,” Eddie cooed, low and syrupy, “you ready to really fuck her?”
Steve nodded, sending the hairs Eddie just fixed flopping forward into his shining eyes. Eddie’s own glinted with satisfaction and he scanned over you.
Limbs trembling. Thighs shaking. Lips swollen from biting down on them hard enough to draw blood. Head hanging on its hinge like it’s too heavy to lift.
But you do lift it. Just enough to look him in the eye, to flash him your round and pleading gaze he loves so much. To give him the tiniest nod when he lifts his brow at you in a silent check-in.
To see him nod at Steve.
Steve shifted underneath you and planted his feet on the bed. His gaze cut sideways and his eyes locked with Eddie, poised for instruction.
“Go.”
Steve’s hips bucked, nearly lifting you off the bed. He thrust up into you as hard as he could, clearly having lost whatever semblance of restraint he’d been clinging onto the whole night. He used his hold on your hips to slide you forward to meet his every stroke, your bodies undulating together.
The wet plap plap plap of his thighs hitting yours grew faster, both of you sneaking glances over at Eddie to see if he was going to stop you again.
He gave no indication either way.
Your pussy clenched and squeezed around his length, hips struggling to match his pace until you gave up entirely, giving yourself over to his motions, the peak of your pleasure rushing towards you once again.
Close, you were close, you were so, so close, you were gonna—
“Stop.”
“FUCK!” You cried out, not even caring how feral you sounded anymore, “Fucking shit, goddamn it Eddie, just let me cum, please—”
The sharp crack of his palm across your cheek was shocking, but not a surprise. Your eyes welled with tears immediately, having been teetering on the verge of crying for what felt like an eternity. It was actually a relief to let off some of the pressure that built up in your chest, but it was short lived.
“Is that what you call me?” Eddie’s voice boomed, loud enough to rattle the walls, “Or are you so drunk on his dick you forgot who I am?”
“M’sorry, sir,” you blubbered, tears trickling down your cheek that still stung from his slap.
You felt Steve’s hands tremble on your thighs, like all he wanted to do in that moment was reach up and soothe the burn.
“That’s better,” Eddie said, eyes still steely as he reached out for you. “Now say you’re sorry to our guest for that dirty fucking mouth of yours.”
He laid his hand on your cheek, seemingly to turn your head forward, but the way he held it there for a few seconds after felt more like an apology.
It still tingled when he dropped his hand, but his touch had dulled the pain.
“Sorry, Stevie,” you said, practically in a whisper. Eyes big, round and wet.
“It’s okay, angel,” Steve answered, giving your thighs a reassuring squeeze.
Then, sensing an opportunity in this moment of calm, Steve looked to Eddie.
“Sir?” he said meekly, the picture of an obedient pet, “c-can I kiss her?”
All the air rushed out of the room, the three of you falling deathly quiet in the wake of his question.
Eddie’s eyes were dark, his anger that boiled over briefly reduced to a low simmer as he weighed Steve’s request in his head.
At last, his chin dropped in a deep nod.
Steve lifted one of his hands and cradled your jaw tenderly. The pad of his thumb smoothed over your wobbly bottom lip, stilling it. He drew close to drag his nose along the apple of your cheek, letting his plush lips skim your skin that was still buzzing from Eddie’s strike. He licked his lips and they parted as he blew cool air on it, making shivers skitter down your spine.
Your mouth fell open and your eyes fluttered closed, giving yourself over to the feeling of his blunt fingertips stroking the sensitive skin behind your ear, his whole hand sliding back to hold you by the nape of your neck.
He could feel your excitement as you pulsed around his length, your hot center aching with need, stranded at the edge of your orgasm. His fingers slid into your hair, massaging at the roots until you let out a little hum of contentment. Your head dropped back, your neck stretched before him once again. Still begging for his attention.
This time, he mouthed at its graceful lines that flowed from your chin and jaw down to your collar bones and the slope of your shoulder. His lips left a trail of wet patches as he planted open-mouthed kisses all the way up, up...
He found the sensitive patch of skin behind your ear and you gasped when he grazed it, shivers making you writhe and squirm on his lap.
Finally, finally, he let your mouths meet again and your tongues twisted and swirled in a dizzying sort of dance. Head spinning like a carousel.
Eddie watched, silent and appraising, his gaze stern and hard. He kept his arms crossed in front of his chest, forcibly ignoring the insistent throb of his own cock in his pants. But when Steve’s other hand lifted from your other thigh and he cradled your face fully in his grasp to deepen the kiss, his strong brows drawn in concentration, not even Eddie could resist anymore.
He palmed himself lightly, rubbing over the bulge in his jeans and along his zippered fly, grunting in approval at his toys putting on a good show.
Summary: During a hazy, weed-filled movie night in Eddie’s trailer, a filthy fantasy takes place that involves you in the middle with both your boyfriend Eddie and your ex, Steve.
Warnings: MDNI SMUT!!! MFM threeway, double v pen, no protection (wrap it up, don’t be a silly bugger!), dirty talk, make sure your toys are charged.
Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: loosely based on ‘In The Middle’ by Dodie! Currently getting ready to see Renee Rapp in Dublin so apologies for spelling mistakes and lack of editing, I’m on my phone! I’ve been bitten by the smut bug. How do I stop. I am feral. I see no end to it.
Lots of love, Rose x
Hawkins, 1986. The trailer was dim and warm, the credits of the horror flick still rolling on the little TV.
Your eyelids felt heavy, lashes fluttering as you sank deeper into Eddie’s lumpy couch. Your legs were draped over his lap, skirt riding up just enough that his calloused fingers could trace slow, lazy circles on the soft skin of your inner thigh - higher each time, but still innocent. The motion was hypnotic, almost lulling you under.
Steve lounged in the armchair across from you, beer bottle dangling from his fingers, that easy King Steve smirk on his face while he watched the two of you with half-lidded eyes. Everything felt soft around the edges.
The air was thick with the sweet haze of weed. The three of you had passed a joint back and forth for the last hour, leaving everything loose and warm, your thoughts hazy and slow.
You and Steve had tried the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing last year. It was hot as hell, sure - Steve knew exactly how to pin you down and fuck you stupid - but there was never any love there. Just sex. Mind-melting, no-strings sex. So you both agreed to drop the labels and keep it as friends with benefits for a while, easy and casual.
Then Eddie crashed into your life like a thunderstorm. Real feelings. Real dates. Real relationship. You ended the benefits with Steve the second you made it official with Eddie, but the three of you stayed close. Best friends. Movie nights. Late-night drives in the Beamer. Inside jokes that made your stomach flip.
Lately, though, your brain wouldn’t shut up about one filthy fantasy. You wanted both of them at once - your sweet, cocky ex-fuckbuddy and your wild, metalhead boyfriend - turning you into a trembling, dripping mess between them.
The words tumbled out before you could chicken out.
“Guys…” Your voice came out husky. You sat up, heart hammering, but kept one hand on Eddie’s thigh and looked straight at Steve. “I’ve been thinking about this for weeks. I wanna try something... Like… all of us. Together. Naked.”
You knew Eddie was down for bringing in a third - he’d mentioned it during your mind-numbing sex sessions previously, growling filthy promises against your neck while he fucked you senseless. Steve hadn’t been mentioned directly, but he knew about your past with Steve and you knew he was confident enough in himself to know that your heart and pussy were his now.
A silence fell the room for two heartbeats. Then Eddie’s grin went sharp and wicked, dark eyes lighting up. “Holy shit, sweetheart. You serious right now?” His hand slid higher under your skirt, thumb brushing the edge of your panties. “Because if you’re offering to let me and Harrington tag-team you, I’m so fucking down.”
Steve’s eyes went wide, shocked for a split second, mouth parting like he couldn’t believe what you’d just said. Then heat flooded his face and he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hazel eyes dark and hungry. He glanced sideways at Eddie, clearly checking for the green light.
“I’m down for it, man,” Eddie said with a low, smoky chuckle, never breaking eye contact with you.
Steve let out a breathless laugh, the shock melting into pure want. “Only if you’re sure, babe. But yeah… I’ve thought about it too. More than I should.” His voice dropped low. “You in the middle of us? Fuck. I’m in.”
Heat exploded low in your belly. Eddie didn’t waste time - he hauled himself towards you, pulling you into a filthy kiss, tongue flicking past your teeth, hands already shoving your shirt up. Steve was right there a second later, pulling you sideways so he could claim your mouth too, the kiss familiar and dirty, just like old times.
Two sets of hands stripped you fast - your skirt hit the floor, bra tossed somewhere near the kitchenette. You ended up on Eddie’s unmade bed in nothing but damp panties, Steve on one side, Eddie on the other.
“Jesus, look at you,” Eddie groaned, yanking your panties aside and sliding two thick fingers straight into your soaked cunt. “Already dripping for both your boys, huh?”
Steve latched onto your tit, sucking hard while his hand rolled the other nipple. You arched with a moan, hips rocking onto Eddie’s fingers as he curled them just right, hitting that spot that made your toes curl.
“Gonna fuck this pretty mouth while Steve rails that greedy pussy,” Eddie rasped, kneeling up and freeing his cock - long, thick, flushed dark, the tip already shiny. You turned on your side, opened wide and took him deep, gagging a little as he hit the back of your throat.
Behind you, Steve shoved your knees apart and thrust in with one smooth stroke, stretching you wide around his familiar cock.
“Still so fucking tight,” Steve grunted, gripping your hips and pounding into you hard enough to make the trailer creak. Every thrust shoved you further down Eddie’s shaft. You were exactly where you wanted to be - stuffed full at both ends, spit and slick dripping down your chin, tears pricking your eyes from how good it felt.
They switched after your first orgasm ripped through you. Eddie flipped you onto your back, hooked your legs over his shoulders, and slammed into your cunt so deep you saw stars. Steve straddled your chest, feeding you his cock while Eddie fucked you senseless, thumb grinding tight circles on your swollen clit.
“Come on, baby,” Eddie snarled, his grip on your thighs tightening. “Wanna feel this pussy milk me while your ex watches.”
You shattered again, screaming around Steve’s dick.
But they still weren’t done.
Steve pulled out of your mouth, eyes wild. “Think you can take us both, babe?”
You nodded so fast your head spun.
Eddie grabbed the bottle of lube he kept in the nightstand (always prepared, your filthy boyfriend). They maneuvered you perfectly - Steve on his back, pulling you down onto his cock reverse-cowgirl so your back pressed to his chest. He fucked up into your slick pussy slow and deep. Then Eddie knelt between your spread thighs, slicking his cock generously before pressing the fat head of his cock right alongside Steve’s at your already-stretched entrance.
“Relax, sweetheart,” Steve whispered hot against your ear, one hand rubbing your clit in steady circles. “We’ve got you. Gonna stretch this pussy so full.”
Eddie pushed in- slow, burning, intense - until both thick cocks were buried side-by-side inside your pussy, stretching you impossibly wide around them. You were stuffed. Claimed. Exactly in the middle.
They found a rhythm fast - one almost pulling out while the other thrust in deep. The stretch was filthy and overwhelming - you were sobbing with pleasure, nails digging into Steve’s thighs. Eddie’s hands bruising your hips. Steve’s mouth latched onto your neck, biting down.
“Goddamn, look at her,” Eddie growled. “Our girl taking two cocks in this greedy pussy like she was made for it. Gonna fill you so full, baby. Paint you inside and out.”
But then Eddie leaned down over you, curls brushing your shoulder like he was about to kiss you - only for his mouth to crash into Steve’s instead, right beside your cheek. It was a hot, messy, wet, tongue-filled kiss: Eddie’s tongue sliding deep into Steve’s mouth, lips sucking and biting greedily, low masculine groans rumbling from both of them as they made out like they’d been dying to do it for years.
The sight of it - your boyfriend and your ex tangled together right beside you, tongues visibly sliding and licking while both their thick cocks throbbed deep inside your pussy - hit you like a lightning bolt. Your whole body seized up.
“Eddie - Steve - fuck,” you moaned loudly, the words breaking apart. “Eddie… Steve… oh god-” Their names spilled from your lips over and over, louder each time as they fucked you senseless between them, still kissing like they couldn’t get enough. The filthy visual, the wet sounds, the way both cocks twitched and pulsed in perfect sync inside you - it was too much. The pressure built impossibly high until you shattered, screaming both their names as your body clamped down hard around their cocks, orgasm ripping through you so intense your vision whited out.
Steve came first with a choked groan into Eddie’s mouth, flooding your pussy. Eddie followed right behind, pumping deep into you with a filthy curse, never breaking the kiss.
A gentle grab of your thighs pulled you back…
Your eyes snapped open.
You were still on the couch, legs still draped over Eddie’s lap. His fingers had stopped their lazy circles and were now gently gripping your thigh. He was looking down at you, dark eyes intense and heated, that knowing little smirk tugging at his lips.
“Baby?” His voice was low, rough from the weed. “You fell asleep there for a minute. Mind to tell us what had you moaning both our names like that?”
Steve had leaned all the way forward in the armchair, beer forgotten. His hazel eyes were locked on you with pure, undisguised hunger.
Your heart hammered. Your panties were soaked through, thighs sticky, the dream still burning hot behind your eyes. You swallowed hard, face burning as both of them stared at you, waiting.
mdni!! 18+. smut. smut with no plot at all actually. modern au.
title based on if you’re too shy (let me know) - the 1975
a/n: heyyy i’m back with some degenerate smut!! it’s my first time ever doing a fic like this so if it isn’t formatted well/is confusing pleaseeee let me know!! r has a faceless nsfw account on twitter, eddie is a content creator/camboy with a large following. they’re both absolute down bad losers for one another! if it’s not your thing pls feel free to scroll
this @gutsnhugs kurt fic literally blew my mind and kinda forced me into finally writing some camboy!eddie so everyone say thank you!!
˗ˏˋ 🍒 ˎˊ˗
you're horny.
horny and alone.
which wasn't a rarity, it was just that today was particularly awful and nothing on this wretched site is seeming to satiate the ache between your legs.
eddie always seemed to be able to, watching the one video of him being ridden like an absolute stallion over and over until you'd cum enough times to fall asleep.
but you need him, need him here.
the ache keeps coming back, each time worse than before. a deep, aching hunger for this strangers cock. it was debauchery, genuine filthy need to be used by this man that the autoscroll videos of puppies playing with ducklings couldn't even cleanse.
you click the small envelope on his profile on a whim, it's not like he'd ever see your message, god knows how many desperate women and men alike sent him utter vulgarity day in day out. this was more for your own appeasement. to know that you tried, even if you weren't successful.
you've posted a few videos here and there, garnering a couple hundred likes on a few. mostly just of your hand between your legs, shuddered gasps soundtracking the tapes. but you were nowhere near on eddie's level.
he had thousands of followers, all salivating at the mouth, clambering for the next video, the next stream of him mindlessly playing with his cock- hell, they'd cream themselves for just a tweet back saying hi.
🐇baby
i need to fuck u so bad lol.
he wouldn't even see it.
you'd be cursed to a life of anonymous thirsting forever. unless of course you accidentally stumbled upon him in the street, accidentally bumping his shoulder which forces you to apologise, therein which he falls deeply, madly in love, fucking your brains out each and every day until the end of your lives.
but as delusional as you may be, you know that the likelihood of that ever happening is zero to none. so, instead of pining over some dude you'll never meet, you lock your phone and attempt to fall asleep. dreaming sweet musings of curly-headed men who live to make you cum.
-
the shrill ringing of your alarm is abrupt, forcefully prying you from your dreamland and back into the dull dregs of corporate life.
you don't even look at your phone until the coffee is in your mug, leaning over the kitchen island to find what was perhaps the worst notification you could've ever received.
edward🖤
is that u on ur page?
if it is....... i'm down
very down
oh my god.
your heart thuds, feeling the mismatched beats in your throat.
firstly on account for him even seeing your disgraceful thirsting, but secondly for the fact that he's very down.
very down?
mortification rushes through your veins, heat creeping through your body in complete disgust. and arousal. definitely arousal.
🐇baby
oh hey....
didn't think you'd actually see that i'm so sorry🫣
ya they're me but i don't post my face #corporategirl
jesus christ.
you were beyond redemption, so disgustingly down bad for this man that he had you quivering over your burnt black coffee at six thirty in the fucking morning.
that far-fetched, ludicrous fantasy of yours seemed so terrifyingly feasible now that you want to cull it from your mind. rid yourself of any and all fantasies about him, just in case you were to meet and he could somehow read your tainted mind.
work today would only be made a hundred times harder knowing that you'd be waiting for a message back. for some inkling of hope to keep this facade up. he'd probably do it too- play along with your sick games in a bid to get you to pay for his top-tier onlyfans or some shit.
-
it's almost lunch before you're completely calmed down, absentmindedly checking your phone when you see that stupid little black heart again.
edward_munz followed you back!
edward🖤
i see everything lol
do you really need to or do you have post nut clarity and regret ever sending that message
bc i don't
if you were wondering
you hate the fact that he has your ears burning from four silly little messages, only despising yourself more for immediately replying.
🐇baby
that's so scary
no post nut clarity here
you spare a quick glance around the, mostly silent office, making sure nobody was creeping over your shoulder, checking in on their pervert coworker.
🐇baby
you just nutted?
without showing me?🥺
you're disgusting.
immediately regretful for your no-better-than-a-dude's words.
🐇baby
omg i'm sorry ew
he doesn't reply, or even see the messages. forcing your heart into arrest, your pussy already throbbing at the most surface level flirting the twitter dm's had ever seen.
the knot in your stomach grows with every passing minute, was it over now? before it had even started? you should've kept your mouth shut, participated in the parasocial teasing and then gone home to up your sub amount like a good little follower instead.
ping
edward🖤 sent an image
you tentatively click the notification, it'd be a sub-list. one telling you to send him an extra ten dollars for the dm's package.
oh no.
your head snaps up, glancing at your unassuming colleagues again. double, triple insurance that none of them could see your phone screen.
it's a picture of his lower stomach, covered in a thick white tinted substance, the curly hairs on his groin all slicked with the stuff and the pretty pink tip of his glistening cock in the background.
edward🖤
is that anything?
proof enough for u?
🐇baby
wow
fuck i'm at work rn
NEED to fuck you for sure
or need you to fuck me maybe
edward🖤
if ur serious, i'm always down
ur fucking hot
you're fucking hot?
coming from the very man that had you pleading for mercy from your own bastard hand. you're honoured, completely, unabashedly honoured.
🐇baby
i'm so serious
are u??
don't make me get my hopes up for nothing
edward🖤
ofc i am
do u even live anywhere near indiana?
indiana? the love of your life has been in indiana this entire time?
🐇baby
i live in indiana! lol
i live just outside the city
what about you?
edward🖤
hawkins
lol
that's like
a 40 minute drive from me
u might be worth it tho
🐇baby
might be?
edward🖤
ok
WILL be
better?
🐇baby
much better
r u 100% serious
i've never done this before i don't know if you're just trying to be nice
edward🖤
100% serious.
if ur scared we can always ft before?
you grin at your phone, a loser of the highest order. it was the bare minimum chivalry that one would expect but it had you biting your lip anyway.
edward🖤
but i wanna see you
i mean it
🐇baby
okay
i want to see u too
u don't even know what i look like lol
edward🖤
true
show me
if we're gonna make sweet love or wtv i should know
🐇baby
lolllll
you scroll through your camera roll, swiping past the numerous images of your food and the sunset in an attempt to find a half-decent picture of yourself. there's one taken from your laptop, lead on your stomach with your feet dangling helplessly in the back with your finger positioned right between your teeth.
edward🖤 reacted ❤️ to your message
fuuuucckkkk
and you want to fuck me?
why??
🐇baby
oh my god
don't do that
you know ur hot
edward🖤
i'm so fucking hard again lol
wyd saturday?
it's taking everything within you not to scuttle off to the bathroom to ease the pulsing of your cunt. he was ridiculously smooth. charming his way right into your sodden panties, not that that wasn't an easy feat for someone who looked like him.
🐇baby
nothing
or...
i can be doing something if u want
edward🖤
now you are
i'm coming over
need to feel u
so so bad
there’s a knock at your cubicle wall, startling you out of your skin. kristy swings round, none the wiser to your deplorable antics, "we're gonna grab some lunch, you coming?" so completely oblivious to how much her choice of words rang true.
you shield your phone with your entire body, protecting her from the filth that lay upon it, you're not entirely sure who would end up more traumatised. "oh.. uhm yeah, let me just finish up and i'll meet you downstairs," nodding sweetly, a complete facade to cover up who you really were.
🐇baby
i’m so so sorry
i have to go
work thing
i’ll make it up to you later
edward🖤
oh fuck you
that’s so mean
i’ll remember that
i’m gonna stream later
you better be there
his invitation makes you smile to yourself, haphazardly tossing your belongings into your bag, hoping your beaming grin and warm skin wouldn't arouse suspicion with your coworkers. you've no idea how you'll make it through lunch, let alone the rest of your workday all the while knowing eddie was barely an hour away, stroking his cock to the thought of you.
🐇baby
wouldn’t miss it
-
you don’t waste a millisecond between getting through your front door and thinking about how you’ll make it up to eddie.
shuffling through your usual routine of stripping off your rigid work clothes, reheating whatever bland variation of leftovers left in the fridge and planting yourself on the couch to watch hours of trashy tv. only today, you move upstairs, to your bedroom— to privacy.
you had an array of previously filmed videos, mostly awfully-lit, barely legible thirty second clips of you cumming, made for the sole purpose of garnering likes from thirsty old men online. they wouldn't do, weren't up to the standard that he deserved for your cruel blue-balling.
it comes to you as you finish the borderline inedible spaghetti, sat cross-legged on your bed. you'd make it up to him a thousand times over, and no doubt rile him up a thousand more.
🐇baby
when r u going live
need to see u
edward🖤
look at you begging for me now
you still owe me
but give me ten and i'll be live
perfect.
enough time to set yourself up, laptop poised and ready to go, pussy purring for a glimpse of his ringed fingers pumping his shaft. knowing now, that he was just as eager to fuck you, as you were him- you wanted to make this something, worthwhile even. purposefully changing into an especially racy pair of black panties, not that he'd see much, that wasn't the point.
your phone buzzes, snapping you out of the enchanting visions of him fucking you into the mattress. a link, to his stream sits waiting, taunting. making the distracted fluttering of your cunt oh so much worse.
edward🖤
just for you
you tilt the laptop screen, just enough to be captured by your phone, joining the stream to a dimly-lit image of him sat resting on his elbow. one hand wrapped around his phone, the other moving slowly over his hip.
his eyes flit between whatever was on his screen to the chat, thousands of faceless people begging to see more. eddie could go live anytime and be certain that at least a thousand porn-brained sickos would be tuning in to watch.
"how's your day been?" he asks, voice seeping through your dark bedroom, "y'think about me at all?" chuckling low, still engrossed by whatever it was he was watching.
god, you hope it's you.
the chat lights up with a hundred messages. ‘all day everyday!' and 'i never stop thinking about you' fill the screen. he had them wrapped around his little finger, lapping up the petty scraps he threw them.
and don't get it wrong, you were absolutely one of them. look at the state he'd gotten you in without ever touching you.
your hand sinks down between your thighs, phone positioned carefully on your chest as you hit record. he hadn't even started touching himself yet and you were soaked. the commanding boom of his voice, the lazy eye contact with the camera and the sheer exhilaration of knowing you'd see exactly what you do to him on camera.
your fingers dip into the soft lace, circling your clit a few measly times before sliding between your wet folds and into your quivering hole, "oh fuuck," gasping right into the microphone, words intertwined with shaky moans.
eddie looks at the camera, as if he's looking through the plastic right at you, "a little excited today, aren't you?" fucker, it's like he knows. "'m gonna start in a sec.." gripping his dick through the material, ensuring the vulgar outline of his erection can be appropriately seen by all.
"shit.." murmuring without meaning to, so entirely wrecked by just a few words.
he tugs on his sweatpants, tongue peeking out of his shiny lips as his cock jumps up, hitting against his stomach, already glossy with pre-cum. "that what you wanted, hm?" wrapping his hand around the base as his phone falls onto the mattress, images of you already burned into his mind, you hope.
your fingers glide back to your clit, tracing around the thrumming nub, right in time with his fist moving up and down. you share the same tempo, despite the distance. that must mean something, maybe.
“oh eddie,” you whine, the video now a shaky haze, attributed to your imminent orgasm, “touch me.. fuck please touch me,” mewling into your phone, only exaggerating a little, mostly for his benefit.
it doesn’t take long for you to make yourself cum, fucking your fingers desperately, a pool of your spend coating the digits when your stomach flips. projecting a chorus line of expletives, littered with echoes of his name.
he grunts, just as you begin to tremble— connected by a higher being you’re sure. his thumb teasing his tip, drawing this out for as long as it took, milking the drooling sycophants for every last dollar they were willing to tip.
“please please please,” you pant, seeking his permission to let yourself topple over, “thank you.. thank- shit,” crashing into your climax, crying out with little care as to who could hear.
your phone slides from your heaving chest, almost immediately ready to go again when your eyes focus and connect with his.
it takes a minute, but you gain enough semblance of control eventually, tapping hurriedly to get the video sent and into his hands.
his phone brightens up the inked skin of his rib cage and for a moment you think he might just ignore it until he pauses, recognises your name and lets curiosity take over. the camera jolts, his laptop shoved slightly lower, so as to not expose whatever might be waiting behind the notification.
“oh shit,” eddie mutters, glancing at the chat only to instantly flick back to your little pornography attempt. “jesus christ,” swiftly lowering the volume of his phone when the video plays.
this is it.
everything you’d ever wanted, transpiring over a grainy livestream on a rainy thursday evening. it’s awe inspiring, just last night you had meant nothing to him and now you’re making him jitter like a stupid school boy.
the chat awakens when he puts the phone to his face, muffled sounds of your pleas ring out for thousands to hear.
what’s wrong?
pls don’t go!!!
need to see u cum👅
his hand reignites, watching diligently how your hips roll and you fuck yourself to his nonchalance, “fuck.. yeah, that’s it bunny,” he keens, the mindless nickname you’d given yourself tumbling out of his lips.
what’s he watching
who is that lol.
relentlessly fucking his fist now, no longer concerned with the stream, but instead you. every single sense of his is honed into you and his fucking cock.
he has a gf???
“y’gonna take my cock, huh?” voice full of rasp, dominance. you’re shivering all over again, grinding down onto nothing, “gonna cum all over my fuckin’ cock,” a demand, not a question.
your cunt drips, hand now back in your panties, teasing your clit with his words. with the image of him losing all composure to your video. his strangled moans travel through the speaker, masquerading the wet shlick of your pussy.
“doin’ so good f’me..” you can see his fingers scramble restart the recording, the others vigorously pumping around his cock, “ohh.. shit, bunny. fuck, i gotta feel you.. need’a..” trailing off into silence to allow your wails through clearly.
who even is that.
this is so fucking hot🥵
wish that was me
the tattoos littering his body gleam with sweat, flexing with every jerk of his hand, every time your syrupy iteration of his name calls out through the phone. it’s sickening how your own voice makes you shudder, getting off to yourself seemed narcissistic but it fills your stomach with electricity.
eddie must agree, sighing into the air with zero constraint, “gonna fill you up.. yeah? you want that? want me to cum inside y’perfect pussy?”
“fuck yes.. fuck.. please,” begging him, so feeble. at his mercy and so willingly too.
the camera wobbles, matching his ferocious pace though you see him perfectly. see his pretty cock twitch between his palm, “fuck yeah baby.. fuck yes, gonna cum.. gonna cum right here,” garbled nonsense mostly but it sends you hurtling into another orgasm.
seemingly just in front of his own, strained sobs fall out of his pouted lips, deliriously chanting your display name, “yes bunny, take it— take it all,” thick ropes of cum paint his hand and thighs, over and over.
jesus christ🔥🔥🔥🔥
just came everywhere lmao!
he’s ruined, a shell of the cocky, egotistical exterior he had on prior. and all because of you.
his arm falls to his side, then, abruptly the screen goes dark, his laptop snapped shut without so much as a goodbye nary thank you to his loyal following.
there’s maybe a single second of silence before your phone explodes, vibrations one after the other alerting you to his frenzied messages.
edward🖤
ur fucking crazy
genuinely fucked
did you see how much i fucking came
do u want me to lose my mind??
was that u making it up to me bc shit
your heart beats a million miles a minute, if this was what happened over some low quality livestream, how would you ever cope with him in actuality? there’s not a chance in hell you’ll make it out alive.
🐇baby
so you liked it??
edward🖤
i’m abt to drive to your house rn
i’ll show you how much i liked it
loved it
i loved it
🐇baby
please do
i came twice lol
i want u
edward🖤
im gonna cum again
show me u rn
just anything
pls
you diligently open the camera, cheek pressed into the pillow with your eyes wide, gazing directly at him through miles of separation. in the most ludicrous way, it feels like he’s peering right back— together even though you couldn’t be further from it.
edward🖤
fuvkkkk gof
i’m cumming
i’m in love with u
come here
let me come ther idc
come on my face
five unconscious words were going to ruin your life forever.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader x Steve Harrington Wc: 10.3k
Description: Eddie accidentally walks in on Steve fucking you in a WSQK storage closet. He thinks he’s doomed to a life of fantasizing over you with the only company of his right hand, until…Steve himself offers him a golden ticket straight to your bed: a threesome.
Inspired on the song ‘I think he knows’ by Taylor Swift <3
Warnings/tags: threesome smut, all are adults, fem!reader, established relationship with S5!Steve, no spoilers, Eddie survives S4 bc I say so, mentions of his scars, voyeurism, eddie fantasizes a lot, he jerks off a lot more, porn with plot, oral male rec, fingering, piv sex, both men are whipped for you.
Note: Surprise, new boy in the harem✨ No I don’t know how this happened, or how it ended up being so long but all I can say is merry early christmas my dears, enjoy the filth!! 🫦
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he’s so obsessed with me and boy I understand
Eddie Munson had never hated the sun before.
Not until he saw it in your smile.
You were standing in front of him at the crawl meeting, giggling at something Robin had said, soft and golden in the way that only you could be, wearing Steve’s stupid jacket that by this point was pretty much your own.
Because he was.
Steve Harrington, Mr. Perfect Hair himself, asshole turned part time hero, was the guy who got to hold your hand in public. Eddie didn’t hate him. Not really. He wanted to, wanted it bad sometimes, when the jealousy itched too deep to scratch.
He’d hated him at some point, when Dustin wouldn't shut up about how incredible his friend was. But alas, after everything they’d been through last year and Steve being the one who got him out of that hellhole, he really couldn’t hate him anymore.
So, he hated the sun. Because he couldn't have it.
Eddie also hated himself for not speaking up sooner. For watching you fall in love with someone else while he sat in the background. And maybe that was his punishment. Maybe that was the price for every time he chickened out, every time he saw you in the hallway in that little cherry red jacket and panicked, ducking behind his locker like a coward.
Maybe if he hadn’t been, you would be wearing his jacket now.
“Dude, wipe your face. You’re one drool away from filling the bucket,” came a voice from beside him, and undoubtedly by the tone–it had to be Henderson’s.
Eddie snapped out of his trance by the sharp nudge of Dustin’s elbow. Shit. He hadn’t even realized he was watching.
“I’m not,” he lied, even as he tilted his head just enough to catch another glimpse of you, this time laughing as Steve tried to sneak a kiss and Robin dramatically fake gagged next to you.
Jesus, Eddie was about to gag for real.
“You’re staring again,” Dustin chuckled, walking away after patting him condescendingly on the back.
Eddie shot him a glare but didn’t argue back. Because what was the point?
All he could do was fantasize when it came to you. You would never look at him the same way you look at Steve.
You just looked at him like he was funny. Your metalhead friend. And Eddie? Eddie looked at you like you hung the goddamn stars.
Things were finally looking up for Eddie. For once.
Aside from his not so little crush situation, everything else seemed to be getting better.
After almost dying being devoured by supernatural creatures–which, in his opinion would’ve been a very metal death–his uncle’s trailer had gotten split in half, and he’d gotten piles and piles of medical bills from his long recovery. Which led to him having to find a part time job as a mechanic besides his little dealing business.
Oh! And how could he forget? The police department was still investigating him about the murders from last year.
Between that, his job, the incessant crawls every week, and his therapy–both physical and psychological–he had absolutely no time to host hellfire anymore. Dustin had tried to keep it alive, but bless his soul, no one compares to Eddie Munson when it comes to being DM.
But last week, by some miracle, he’d finally, finally been cleared as “innocent” due to lack of evidence and was able to start living a normal life again. His therapy sessions had been reduced to once every two weeks, and he’d also repaired a few fancy cars that earned him a pretty juicy commission.
So yeah. Things were finally looking up for him after whatever the hell ‘86 was.
So, with a pep in his step, he walked through the doors of the WSQK headquarters holding a cardboard box with all his stuff for that day’s campaign. Robin had told him they had a spare room on the back, and Steve said he could go earlier to set everything up. He even whistled as he strolled through the empty hallways of the radio station.
He saw two doors at the end, figuring he’d open both and find out which one he was supposed to settle in.
But as all Munsons tend to run out of luck at some point, it seems like the curse finally hit him again when he opened the wrong one and changed the course of his entire fucking life.
Because what he didn’t expect, what absolutely no one warned him about, was that you and Steve liked to use the storage closet to fuck like bunnies before anyone arrived at the station.
He froze at the door, the box in his hand hanging on for dear life as he took in the scene in front of him.
There you were.
Propped up on a stack of cardboard boxes with Steve between your legs, your skirt was bunched around your hips, and your knees high on his waist. Your face was flushed, hair a mess and you were letting out choked little gasps because you couldn’t form words anymore.
Eddie’s heart stopped. He might’ve as well died for real this time.
You let out a startled sound, grabbing Steve’s shoulders to hide yourself the second you saw Eddie standing there. Steve just glanced back over his shoulder, not even bothering to stop.
“Dude. Do you mind?”
Eddie slammed the door shut.
He walked out of WSQK like he’d seen a ghost. Didn’t even say a word to Dustin, who was just pulling up on his bike.
He just got in his van, and drove straight into the woods far enough to be alone. And for the next ten minutes, the only sound in that van was the furious pumping of his hard cock into his hand and his broken, desperate moans repeating something.
Your name. Again. And again.
And again.
Then, after going back and giving a poor excuse to his boys as to why he couldn’t host that day and had to leave immediately (one that actually meant sorry guys! Gotta jerk off like 10 more times!) He went to repeat the same routine back at the small place Wayne managed to rent after the “earthquakes” had destroyed his trailer.
He turned off the lights of the room he called his now. Lit a blunt just for something to do with his free hand. Threw on a loud tape to drown out the grunts and the pathetic moaning, and his fist went to town–again–to the memory of you.
The way you looked in that closet.
The arch of your back against the boxes. The sound of your voice breaking as you moaned his name–not Eddie’s, no, the one you belonged to. Steve. The way your fingers dug into his shoulders, pulling him closer, as if he wasn’t deep enough. And your face…
God. Your fucking face.
Blissed out and flushed, swollen lips parted, eyes half-lidded and completely lost in it. No cheap porn film he’d ever watched compared to that. No–you were the most obscene thing Eddie had ever seen in his life and it was burned into him now. Engraved into the insides of his lids. No amount of blinking could unsee it.
No amount of jerking off could erase it.
(He tried. Many times.)
People had sex all the time. This shouldn’t be on his head 24/7. But…Eddie couldn’t believe that was you.
He’d always seen you as soft. As the sweet girl giggling at Steve’s dumb jokes while playing with his stupid perfect hair. As the one who would mediate when a crawl meeting got too heated when someone didn’t agree with the plan. As the one who always listened to everyone…even him.
You even called him Eds once, so softly, that he’d walked around with chest pain for a full day like a goddamn lovesick teenager.
But now?
Now he couldn’t stop imagining how your voice sounded when it wasn't innocent. Couldn’t stop remembering how your legs looked parted open, how your thighs shook as Steve thrusted harshly into you.
He should’ve known better though, that was on him. He should’ve known that someone who once held the title of “King Steve” would be the one to corrupt a girl like you.
Who wouldn’t want to?
He couldn’t stop wondering what it’d feel like to be the one between your legs. To have you whimpering like that. To see you fall apart and know he did that. That he got you that high, that far gone…that wrecked.
He was fucking haunted by the fantasy. And it wasn’t lust, it was worse than that. It was curiosity, obsession, need.
The need to be the one who fucks the sweetness out of you.
But now you were probably curled up in Steve’s bed, fast asleep on his hairy chest, wearing one of his shirts and dreaming about getting fucked by him, while Eddie dreamt of you after he didn’t have anything left to milk out.
He dreamt of your hand in his curls. Your thighs around his waist. Your voice in his ear breaking with his name over and over and…over.
Eddie tried to be normal after that. God, he tried.
At least you seemed to be normal. You walked into Thursday movie night at Nancy’s like nothing had happened, dropping onto the couch next to Steve with a bag of popcorn, listening to whatever Robin said, still sweet and smiley and wearing one of Steve’s jackets.
He told himself not to stare. Repeated it like a goddamn mantra.
Don’t look, Munson. Don’t fucking look. You’ll just embarrass yourself. You’ll make it weird.
But then your eyes met, and you smiled at him, and…Eddie forgot his own name.
His mouth opened, but words came out. Just a squeak that could’ve been the start of a sentence, or a heart attack. He pretended to cough into his fist and buried himself deeper into the armchair.
And Steve? Oh he noticed.
Not just Eddie’s reaction, but all of it. The way Eddie’s eyes had locked onto you from the moment you walked in. The way they dropped lower every time you shifted. The way his fingers gripped the armrest.
And the weird part? Steve didn’t get mad. He just smirked, knowingly, even amused by the whole thing.
The next time something altered Eddie’s brain chemistry, was at the diner.
He’d arrived late, mainly because he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to go in the first place, but the thought of seeing your smile was enough to convince him to walk through that door, and soon it was just him, Robin, and the perfect couple.
Eddie looked at you from across the booth, wearing a cute outfit that he was sure would ruin his life later when he was alone back in his room. You were sipping from your milkshake, the pink straw pressed between your lips, as you let out a hum of contempt at the sweet taste. All Eddie could think was that could be something else.
Thank God for Robin’s need to ramble about everything that happened on her date with Vicky that weekend, that you and Steve were focused on her and not on Eddie’s anxious leg bouncing under the table.
Or at least that’s what he thought.
“Eds, take some fries,” you offered sweetly when Robin ran out of air, pushing the plate you’d been eating from with Steve toward him.
Eddie hadn’t ordered anything, he wasn’t hungry–at least not for actual food–and of course you’d noticed and offered him some of your own.
“Yeah man, go ahead,” Steve chimed in with a smile that was enough to freak him out. “I don’t mind sharing,” he added with a shrug, placing an arm around your shoulders, hazel eyes piercing into Eddie’s with a devilish glint.
The implication left Eddie frozen in place, hand hovering over the fries as you began talking with Robin again, unaware of the way your boyfriend’s comment had left Eddie stunned.
Steve didn’t say anything else. Just kept looking at him, head tilted, like he knew something. Like he felt it now.
The shift.
Eddie almost got up and left, but then he caught Steve’s eyes, and the bastard just winked.
Jesus Christ.
You’re still breathless when Steve flips you onto your back again, mind stuck somewhere between heaven and passing out as your sore body still feels every inch of him buried deep inside you.
He drapes you across his hairy chest knowing you can’t hold yourself up anymore, bare skin sticky with sweat, your cheek pressed over his heartbeat. Steve's hand goes to your thigh, fingers brushing softly where he’d held you down minutes ago.
You don’t want to move. You never want to after he’s done with you. So you just cling tightly to him, letting out a dreamy sigh and nuzzling closer, planting a soft kiss over his racing heart.
Steve smiles, shifting just enough to see your blissed out face. “You okay over there?”
“Mmhm,” you hum. “Can’t feel my soul. Congratulations, Harrington.”
That makes him chuckle. He kisses the top of your head. “Anytime, baby.”
As his room settles into silence and you begin drifting off in his arms before he can drag you into taking a shower, Steve’s chest vibrates against your skin when he speaks again.
“Hey,” he whispers, absentmindedly playing with your hair which doesn’t help your heavy eyelids closing.
“Hmm?”
“Do you ever notice the way Eddie looks at you?”
Your eyes blink open immediately.
You don’t say anything at first. Just start tracing lazy little circles on a particular scar on his ribs, pretending to think about it, but you already know the answer.
“Yeah,” you smile, “I’ve noticed.”
Steve hums, hand still resting on your thigh.
“It’s probably just a silly little crush,” you add, as if you didn’t know how Eddie’s voice breaks every time you spare a glance at him. Or the way his hands shake when you ask him to hand you a drink on movie night. “He’s just… traumatized from the time he caught us back at the station,” you chuckle.
“Oh, baby. You should’ve seen his face in that closet.” Steve snorts. “You were extra loud that day, you really put on a show for him–the lucky bastard.”
“What?” You ask, straightening up on his chest. “You knew he was going to get there earlier?”
“I was hoping he got there earlier."
You smack his arm with your mouth wide open, but a smile tugs at your lips. He grins like the devil is, shifting to ease you again into his embrace.
“Don’t worry baby, I might have a way to fix him right back up,” he says smugly, those impossible hazel eyes glinting with mischief. “…Remember that talk we had a while back? Couple months ago. About maybe…bringing in a third?”
Your heart thumps so fast against your chest that you’re sure Steve can feel it on his.
“…Yeah,” you say. “I remember.”
“What if…it was him?” He shrugs, like he’s discussing what movie to watch. “I’m just saying, we’ve both noticed. And maybe…” His hand drifts lower down your thigh, finding that place where you’re still sensitive. “Maybe it’s fun to imagine what he’d do if we invited him.”
His fingers press against your wet folds, easily sliding in and drawing a gasp out of you. His eyebrows shoot up, like he’d managed exactly what he wanted.
“See? Don't you want to show him again how pretty you sound?”
Maybe it’s the overstimulation of Steve fingers pumping in and out of your pussy like he hadn’t absolutely wrecked it minutes prior, that the word comes out of your mouth before you can stop it.
“Yes,” you exhale in a shaky moan.
The thought alone thrills you. Because the truth is, you’ve been feeling it as much as Steve has. You've been wanting it as much as Steve has.
The forbidden.
Because it is fun to imagine. You guiding Eddie’s hand. Steve watching and telling you what to do. You crying out between the two of them.
God.
“So…Eddie?” You pant, unsure if you’re asking or you're moaning out his name just to try it out on your lips.
Steve just smirks.
“Yeah,” he says, pumping faster. “Eddie.”
The moment that sealed Eddie’s fate was a random Thursday.
He should’ve known better.
The second you said movie night was at your place, he should’ve backed out. Should’ve faked a headache or a gig or even a freak accident involving his uncle. Anything.
But–like the fucking idiot he was–he’d walked right through your front door that night.
You’d picked a shitty movie on purpose. Something slow without any action scenes, full of long silences and artistic shots that made Robin snore into the couch cushion, with Nancy and Jonathan falling right behind.
Steve sat beside you the whole time, like always, hand on your thigh, like always. Looking casual, almost innocent.
Eddie was on the floor, sitting too close to the TV just so he wouldn’t look at you.
He’d been too busy picking at the skin of his thumb and lost into the mazes of his head, that he didn’t notice you’d disappeared with Steve until he glanced over to the couches and only found the girls and Jonathan dead to the world.
He sat there for a few more minutes pretending to care about the stupid movie, but then–like a fucking idiot–he decided to get up, quietly leaving the room like he was going to the kitchen.
He took a hard left to the stairs instead.
Eddie knew where your bedroom was. He’d been there before when you’d asked him to bring more blankets on movie night a few months ago. He still remembers the cute little nightlight plugged into the wall.
As he tiptoed to the top of the stairs like a freak, the hall was dark, but a sliver of light came out of your room through the slightly open door.
Eddie dragged his feet on the carpet, guided by shushing voices and a noise of what he was sure was the creak of a bed. Once he reached, he braced himself for the scene he was about to encounter as he peeked through the door, but no amount of breathing techniques could have ever prepared him for the image before his eyes.
Oh, fuck.
You were on your stomach, face pressed into the mattress, Steve standing behind you with both hands gripping your hips. Your ass–god, your ass–lifted high to meet every thrust.
Your dress was bunched around your waist, panties pushed to the side, but nothing really hid you from the pervert on the door. Not even Steve’s body blocked the view of him disappearing into your dripping pussy, filling you so deep Eddie could see it, see the way your walls opened for him.
The nightlight glowed behind you, casting just enough light to make it worse.
Pink and soft and obscene.
Eddie’s eyes went over the curve of your spine. The shake of your thighs. Your fingers twisting in the floral sheets, holding on for dear life as your body kept being pushed forward.
And the sounds. Jesus Christ, the sounds.
“Steve,” you gasped, “please–more–don’t stop.”
“Shhh baby, I know,” Steve cooed behind you, doing the exact opposite of what you asked and stopped. “But you gotta keep it down, don’t want to wake up your guests do you?”
The fucking hypocrite then slammed back into you so hard the headboard bumped the wall. You moaned–no, cried out, trying to muffle it against the sheets as Eddie bit down his fist just to keep himself from making a sound.
“Oh baby, you wanna be loud?” Steve chuckled, as he kept thrusting hard. “Go on then, I want to hear you.”
“I–fuck–I love your cock, Steve” you choked the words out. “‘S–s’ so deep.”
Eddie froze at the crack of the door, heart pounding out of his chest as he watched you getting fucked within an inch of your life.
The sweet girl. The sun. The angel he thought he knew. Gripping her sheets like a sinner. Moaning filth like she wanted the guests to hear.
Maybe you wanted him to hear.
Eddie’s hand slipped inside his jeans, he couldn't stop himself. Not after that. He stroked himself fast and hard and desperate, watching your body take it, and your mouth beg for it.
It didn’t take long for Eddie to come harder than he’d ever had in his life. He made a mess in his hand, his pants, and he was sure some of his cum dripped onto the carpet below, but he was too high and too far gone to care.
He nearly collapsed against the stairs wall as he rushed back down, panting, already half hard again within seconds.
The movie was still rolling, the guys were still fast asleep, but he had been changed forever–once again.
Seriously, who the hell leaves the door open? Or unlocked? For two people who seemed to fuck like bunnies none of it made sense.
Unless…you’d wanted him to watch.
Eddie was in the middle of jerking off when someone started pounding on his front door.
Of course.
He’d found his rhythm, music blasting, hips grinding into his palm, eyes squeezed shut and in his head, his filthy, freaky little head, you kept running your dirty mouth over and over.
He’d been at it for twenty minutes. Maybe more. His dick was red and raw but he didn’t care because the only thing worse than jerking off to the memory of you was not jerking off to it.
Bang, bang, bang.
“Jesus–fuck,” he curses, pulling up his briefs with a groan, finding a pair of jeans from the floor as the knocking continues.
“EDDIE!!” A familiar voice calls over the music.
Oh no.
Eddie walks out of his room shirtless, crosses the hall in three large strides, and opens the door wide enough to peek out, and yeah, there he is.
Steve fucking Harrington.
The absolute last person on earth he wanted to catch him red handed with his dick in his hand fantasizing about his girlfriend.
“Hey, man,” Eddie manages, clearing his throat when his voice cracks a little. “Uh…what’s up?”
“Hey!” Steve beams, that preppy boy smile spreading wide on his face. “Mind if I come in?”
Eddie hesitates only for a second, then opens the door wider and steps back. Steve walks in, glances around, his gaze landing on Eddie’s bedroom. More specifically, on the bottle of lotion on his nightstand and the constellation of crumpled paper tissues on the floor next to his bed.
Steve chuckles. “Sorry man, didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Wh–what?”
“You know. That thing you were doing.” Steve smirks, nodding his head toward the room. “Thinking about my girl?”
Eddie’s whole face goes red. “Dude, what the fuck–”
“You like her,” Steve says plainly, not as a question, not mad, not teasing. Just a matter of fact. “I know you’ve always liked her. But now you’ve seen her like I have. And now you can’t stop thinking about her.”
Eddie stands frozen in the middle of the living room, unsure of what he’s supposed to say to save his case. Although, given the evidence, there isn’t much to hope for.
“Is this the part where you punch me?” Eddie asks, almost bracing for the impact.
But Steve just laughs in his face.
“No, man. No punches.” He shakes his head, amused. “You know…she likes it when you stare.”
You like it when he stares? You know he stares?
“Alright Harrington, if you wanna hit me, just do it. Don’t fuck with me.” Eddie chuckles bitterly, already wishing he could just go back to his little twisted fantasies instead of hearing this bullshit.
“Don’t you get what I’m saying Eddie?”
Eddie narrows his eyes. “No…?”
Steve sighs, then steps closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m saying…she wants you to fuck her.”
There’s a moment of deafening silence where Eddie questions if he actually speaks the English language, because there’s no fucking way in the world he heard that right.
“...What??”
“She does,” Steve repeats, then chuckles again, “Hell, even I want you to fuck her.”
“You’re not being serious,” Eddie accuses, backing off from Steve’s grasp to pace in circles with his hands on his hips.
“Fucking hell man,” Steve groans. “Look–I’ve seen the way you look at her. And I get it, okay? She’s a dream, I know.” He laughs, but Eddie keeps pacing like a madman, shaking his head. “Dude–you ever wonder what she tastes like when she’s already come twice?”
That makes him stop right in his tracks. He turns to Steve in disbelief, but once again he doesn’t see anger, or teasing. He’s genuinely asking him if he fantasizes about his girlfriend.
“Man, I wonder about everything,” Eddie finally blurts out, exhaling like he just lifted a weight off his chest that’s been dragging him down for weeks.
Steve grins.
“I wouldn’t offer you this if I didn’t trust you with her.”
He walks closer to Eddie–again–but this time he doesn’t place his hand on his shoulder, just looks at him dead in the eye as his grin turns darker.
“You’d be gentle with her, wouldn’t you, Eddie?” He asks, pupils taking over the hazel of his eyes. “You wouldn’t fuck her too hard the first time, right? She’s too sensitive after–and trust me, you’re gonna want her to keep going.”
Eddie is speechless for the 124378th time in that month. Which should be an achievement, considering he likes to talk as much as Robin does.
“I’m not gonna say it twice, Munson.” Steve lifts a hand to clap him on the shoulder. “But she really wants it. So are you in?”
Eddie doesn’t even think anymore. He just nods frantically.
Oh, he’s so in.
Oh, he’s so having a full blown existential crisis.
He hadn’t slept the night before. Who could sleep after that conversation? Steve, poster boy for everything Eddie is not, just casually walked into his place, dropping that line like it was no big deal:
She wants you to fuck her.
Which is how he ended up now, standing outside your goddamn house, sweating through his jacket and wondering if he’d actually never woken up from the demobats attack and this was all a coma dream.
Because now you apparently wanted him.
In your house. In your bed.
On those stupidly adorable floral sheets he couldn’t stop thinking about. That’s what he came thinking about. That’s what he dreamed about every night.
Steve’d said to just “roll by tonight.” Well, tonight is here, and Eddie stands outside the door contemplating his options.
Does he knock? Does he just open it and walk into a fucking orgy?
Jesus.
He adjusts his jacket, runs a hand through his curly hair, and tells himself it’s going to be fine. He’s already been through things someone his age should never have to in their entire lifetime. Strange things. He can handle a little threesome.
Right?
He rings the doorbell before he chickens out like he’s done his whole life.
Eddie hears footsteps approaching the front door. He expects you, for some reason, but instead it’s Steve who opens it, shirtless, barefoot, only wearing some sweatpants, and smiling bright as if he’d just invited Eddie over to watch some sports game.
“Hey, dude! Glad you made it,” he beams, stepping aside.
Eddie walks through the threshold, and stops in the middle of the entrance hall pressing his lips tight.
“You want water or something?” Steve offers casually, noticing Eddie’s looking around nervously. “She’s upstairs. All ready.”
“She’s what?”
“All ready,” Steve repeats with a grin. “You know, for you.”
Steve laughs at Eddie’s loss for words, claps him reassuringly on the back, and gestures toward the stairs.
“Come on, man. Don’t leave her waiting.”
He walks up the stairs with Steve trailing behind. Eddie’s already hard under his ripped jeans, stopping right outside your door thinking what on earth does ready for me mean?
Are you naked? Are you touching yourself? Do you know how hard he is? Can you feel him on the other side of the door?
He can even see the damn nightlight is on behind it. His hand hovers over the doorknob, but for one second, the doubt comes crawling back in.
What if this is a joke? What if he opens the door and all your friends are inside pointing at him and laughing like “Look who actually believed it! You’re a pervert, Eddie!”
Wouldn’t be the first time someone pulls a cruel prank on him–or calls him that. Wouldn’t even be the worst. But–
“You gonna open it, Eddie? Or are you too scared of my girl?” Steve’s teasing voice cuts off his spiraling thoughts.
Eddie takes a deep breath, finally twists the knob, and he swears time slows down when he sees you there.
You’re sitting–no, half kneeling on the bed in the center of the room. Those floral sheets are bunched under your knees. And you’re wearing a little dainty lace set. The fabric is barely there, but the little bows on the straps make it sweet enough for Eddie’s mouth to go dry. Your exposed skin looks soft under the warm pink glow the nightlight casts against the walls.
You’re all ready for him.
Eddie nearly fucking dies. Again.
You smile when you see him. It’s soft and warm and welcoming, like always. Except–nearly naked. Not like he hadn’t seen your guts getting rearranged about two times too much these past weeks anyways.
“Hi, Eds,” you say, waving your hand as if you aren’t currently rewiring his entire nervous system.
He stands frozen in the doorway as Steve brushes past him, casual as hell. He walks straight up to you, bends down just enough to pet your chin with two fingers, making you laugh softly.
“Hi again, baby,” Steve whispers sweetly. “Let’s give him a warm welcome, hm?”
You hum in agreement, watching Steve walk away and drop onto the puff in the corner of the room, manspreading like a king waiting for his entertainment to start.
But Eddie…Eddie’s still standing by the door like 🧍🏻
“So uh…what–what are the rules?” He stammers. “Or, like boundaries? Or–fuck, I don’t know, a safe word?”
He means it for him, of course.
You cover your mouth to stifle a laugh. “Oh my god. Eddie, you're adorable.”
Steve is not as delicate as you, “Dude,” he snorts. “You can’t be serious. Relax. No one's handing out instructions.”
Eddie shifts anxiously on his feet. “I–there should be instructions.”
When the hell has ever cared about those?
“You’re here to make her feel good, that’s it.” Steve says quite harshly, crossing his arms over his chest, then looks at you and everything in him softens. “You decide how far he goes, baby.”
You melt. Right there on the bed. Blow him a kiss and then turn your full attention to the very shy boy at your doorstep.
“It’s okay, Eddie. Can you come closer?” You ask, extending your arm and gesturing toward the bed.
Eddie gives one step, that’s all he manages.
You smile wider, just enough to coax him. “Closer, Eddie. Please.”
Fuck.
He takes another step, then another, until he’s right by the edge of the bed, so close he can see the pattern of the fine lace of your lingerie, the way your chest rises when you breathe, the way you’re giving him the most deadly case of bedroom eyes he’s ever seen in his entire life.
You don’t look shy, or unsure, you look…eager.
Before he can overthink it, you slide off the bed to round him, and gently push his chest to sit down. Eddie falls easily, his body already knowing it’s not in charge anymore. The mattress dips under his weight, bouncing softly along with the curls in his head.
“Kick those shoes off,” you say.
He obeys. Oh–he obeys. A little clumsily, but they’re off in less than three seconds.
Only then you climb onto his lap. Eddie’s breath comes out in a shaky exhale when your ass lands on his thighs. His hands hover uselessly at his sides. He doesn’t touch you, doesn’t really dare yet. He doesn’t even know where to look. His eyes dart from your shoulder to the wall to Steve, who has now thrown his arms behind his head like he’s watching his favorite movie.
“Well, don’t mind me,” he says. “Just enjoying the show.”
You cradle Eddie’s face to get his attention back to you. All he can think is your hands are warm, and too soft for his own good. Your thumbs brush his cheeks in such a normal, easy way, that still feels deeply intimate.
“Pretty boy,” you whisper, smiling at him. “Such pretty eyes.”
Eddie’s heart does an entire somersault routine. He can feel the little feet of the people inside his head running around to process the compliment.
We’re starting already???
He doesn’t even finish that line of thought when you lean in and kiss him. The kiss is slow and unrushed, but so so passionate. Your soft lips move against his, showing him you know exactly what you’re doing. Eddie melts into it instantly. He kisses you back desperately, starving, because he’d been feeling withdrawal for something he never had, and now–holy shit now he’s finally getting his fix.
Still, he doesn’t touch. Not until you take his wrists and guide them yourself, first on your waist, but then trailing down, lower, to where the lace sits and barely covers anything. His hands pinch your skin when he realizes what he’s touching.
You.
“Oh,” he breathes in to the kiss, and had you known Eddie let out those pretty little sounds, you'd have brought him in sooner.
You smile against his mouth and roll your hips, just a little, just to get more out. Grabbing him by the collar of his jacket, you grind down on him. Slow at first, just gentle little moves that made Eddie’s head tip back, and a symphony of broken sounds left his throat. Every grind of your body made his cock throb harder against his jeans. His eyes went between your chest, your mouth and the way your lashes fluttered when you finally found the spot.
“Jesus–fuck yes, use me angel.”
He didn’t even realize he’d said it out loud until you let out a little whimper at the pet name, and picked up the pace.
You are used to terms of endearment from Steve, he’s the sweetest with you, but never in the years of your relationship has he ever called you something so divine as angel.
Alas, your boyfriend still knows you better than anyone. You keep moving on top of Eddie, and even though his hard cock under the jeans is already making you see stars, there’s something…missing. By this point Steve’s fingers would already be deep inside you without even having to ask.
Across the room, he watches your frantic moves and hears your moans getting needier. Eddie doesn't notice at first, but he does.
“Hey man,” he calls casually. “Play with her.”
Eddie, too lost in the way you keep rolling your hips, blinks like he misheard. “–What?”
Steve chuckles, “She’s used to it. Go on, don’t make her wait.”
Eddie turns back to you, but you don’t say anything, just look at him, chest rising faster, lips parted, a thin sheen of sweat starting to gather at your temples. And when his eyes search yours for permission, you nod.
That’s all it takes. Eddie’s hand slides down your stomach, dipping lower and lower, until he finds the paradise between your legs.
Oh fuck.
“Baby–you’re soaking through my jeans,” he groans, trailing the wet patch seeping through your panties.
You giggle, but the second his fingers go past the lace and brush over your clit, you let out the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. A little gasp of surprise, hips bucking slightly since you've been waiting for him to touch you right there all night.
Eddie almost comes in his pants. “Jesus–you’re perfect.”
He doesn't slide his fingers in yet, he doesn't need to, your slick is already dripping onto his jeans, smearing over his rings. You just grind into his hand, chasing your high. Every sound you make goes straight to his dick, every breath, every flutter of your lashes, every soft whimper of his name. He’s about to put a finger in when–
“Stop.”
Eddie freezes at your firm voice, his hand stills as panic takes over his chest. “Did I–did I do something wrong?”
Steve’s already standing from the couch, ready to lift you off Eddie’s lap if you need him to. But you just let out a sweet little laugh and shake your head.
“No, you’re perfect. I want you to take your shirt off first,” you shrug, as if you hadn't caused both men a near heart attack.
Steve exhales, muttering something about “always testing him” as he plops back onto the puff. You smile at him apologetically, he just shakes his head pretending to be annoyed but you see the smile tugging at his lips.
“Oh,” Eddie says, blinking a few times before actually breathing again. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that, sweetheart.”
He fumbles a little, taking off his vest first, then his jacket, then–he hesitates for a second. It’s not that he’s insecure about his chest, but his tattoos now have fresh new roommates in the shape of multiple scars scattered across his skin from where he’d been attacked. And he doesn’t know how you’ll react to them.
You notice the doubt flashing across his eyes as his hands stop reaching for the shirt. “Are you okay, Eddie?” You ask, and now you’re the one wondering if you did something wrong.
“Yeah,” he chuckles, trying to not sound too pathetic. “It’s just–my…my scars,” he says, avoiding your gaze.
You hum softly, “Steve has them too.”
Eddie’s head perks up at that, and his eyes go to the shirtless man on the couch.
“Yeah man,” Steve breathes, straightening up, pointing at the lovely little bite marks the bats had left on his skin.
Eddie squints and sees them washed in the glow of the nightlamp. He’d been so busy freaking the hell out when he arrived that he hadn’t even noticed that Steve’s chest indeed had marks. But not as many as him, and at least the hair around it makes up for it, he’s not sure his pale chest–
“Eddie…” You cup his face to gently guide it towards you. “You can keep your shirt on if you feel more comfortable that way, but know that I don’t care about what’s under there. I just want to feel your skin closer,” you reassure.
Eddie almost proposes right there and then.
Okay–maybe he’s getting ahead of himself. But shit. He decides it’s wiser to just nod, and peels off his shirt in one rough pull. You look him in the eyes before looking down, and he nods again. Your eyes go down his bare chest, pale as you expected, not as filled out as Steve’s, and not nearly as hairy–but the tattoos and the scars make him the most badass rockstar you’d ever seen.
Eddie’s breath stills as you look at him like you like what you see. Like he’s the prettiest thing in the room. And then you make sure he hears it.
“You’re so pretty, Eddie,” you smile, pulling him in for another kiss. Your hands smooth over his skin, fingers tracing the tattoos on his chest, the scars down his sides, the happy trail leading to a happier place. “So hot.”
You whine into the kiss, hips rolling again making him forget about the fact that he’s shirtless in front of you and instead he remembers–right. His fingers.
Eddie reaches for you, pulling your panties to the side again. He slides two fingers between your folds, slow enough to drink every second of the way your jaw drops when you feel his rings deep inside you, the way your eyes flutter shut, how you let out a desperate little sound that goes straight to his cock.
“Eds…” you moan, walls clenching around fingers and metal.
“You feel–fuck, baby, you feel so good…so tight…”
He finds his rhythm easily, all insecurities set aside by how fast you’re falling apart on his fingers.
Eddie knows what he’s doing. Those hands–those guitarist fingers don’t play. They move with instinct, with intention. His fingers curl, dragging quickly through your walls before pressing back in. The rings are a plus, cold metal against heat, and you gasp when one of them hits the spot.
“Oh–Eddie–”
“That’s it angel, keep dripping all over me,” he coos, pumping harder. “Can feel you clenching when I talk like this. You like being a good girl for me?”
You nod, it’s all you can do. Steve just watches. Watches the way your body moves. The way your face twists with pleasure. The way your mouth drops open with every stroke.
But he catches something else. He always does.
Your head tips forward, forehead pressing into Eddie’s shoulder, breaths coming out in little broken sounds against Eddie’s skin as he works every inch of you. You keep grinding your hips, chasing more even as it starts to overwhelm you. A sudden wave makes your moan turn into a whimper, and your nails dig on his shoulder instinctively pushing him away.
You cry out, that’s when Steve speaks.
“Hey–easy, Munson,” he calls out, not angry, but still firm enough that it makes Eddie slow down. “Remember what I said about going easy the first time? You go too rough too soon and she’s gonna be shaking for the rest of the night.”
“Sorry–” Eddie says immediately, but you cut him off.
“It’s okay, Eds. We’re still learning each other,” you reassure, still giving him that dazed, happy look. He exhales in relief. “Just…a little slower, that’s all. I’m not really used to the rings.” You say it so sweetly, that he just nods like a little puppy eager to please.
“You’ll get used to them soon, sweetheart. Promise.”
He pulls his fingers back in slower, watching your face the whole time, memorizing every reaction. It doesn't take long before you’re grinding his hand again and letting out soft moans of pleasure as you find a more comfortable rhythm.
“There you go,,” Steve chuckles, approving. “She’s squeezing you, isn’t she?”
Eddie chuckles back, because he can feel how close you are. Your forehead presses into his shoulder again, mouth brushing his skin as you let out a sound that’s half gasp, half moan.
“Hmm, that sound,” Steve hums, leaning further into the puff, stroking over his crotch. “She sounds like that when she’s about to come.”
“Yeah?” Eddie asks, curling his fingers just right. “Are you close, angel?”
You whimper, hiding your face knowing exactly what they are talking about, but it only makes it hotter for both men to see you like that.
“Don’t you wanna tell him, baby?” Steve asks from his spot, but all that comes out of your mouth is another moan against Eddie’s shoulder. “Hey–eyes on me.”
You obey, turning to meet those wide, hazel eyes. You’re barely holding it together, already breathless. A literal mess on Eddie’s fingers.
But Steve just smiles, wide and bright when you look at him. “Now tell him what you need, sweetheart.”
Your eyes keep locked on your boyfriend as you whisper, “I–I wanna come, Eds…please.”
“Then come, baby. Drench my fucking rings,” he groans in your ear. His raw voice and another curl of his fingers is what gets you there.
Your whole body tenses when the orgasm hits. You let out a broken moan that vibrates in Eddie’s chest and your walls clench around his fingers so tight he thinks you might break them. Your wetness coats his rings, soaks into your panties, his jeans, everywhere.
You collapse, arms flailing to hold on to him, but before Eddie can catch you, you’re already falling back.
“Whoa, hey–” Eddie’s arms scramble to hold you, but Steve is faster.
He’s behind you instantly, steadying you with one hand on your back, the other cupping the back of your head easing you back into Eddie’s lap.
“She goes all soft after,” Steve says, with that fondness he always uses when referring to you. “You gotta hold her up for a second.”
Eddie’s arms wrap around you immediately, as you curl into him still trying to catch your breath. Steve leans to see you, brushing your hair back. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead that makes you smile.
“Hey,” he whispers, eyes scanning your flushed face. “You okay?”
You nod against Eddie’s chest.
“You wanna keep going?”
You nod again.
“Words, baby,” Steve coaxes, and you let out a little breathless giggle when he pinches your side.
“I do,” you whisper, loud enough for both to hear. Then you turn to him. “Thank you.”
For catching me. For checking on me. For letting another man fuck me while you watch.
You don’t even have to say it out loud for Steve to know what you’re thinking. He just brushes your cheek, with an amused smile on his face. “Anytime, baby.”
You shift on Eddie’s lap, turning back to him, lips brushing his cheek before placing your hands on his chest to look at those pretty brown eyes. “Thank you too, Eds. You made me feel so good.”
“Y-Yeah?”
You hum, patting the spider tattoo on his left peck. Once you feel like you regained your strength back again, you slide off his lap and drop to your knees in front of him.
“That’s my girl.” Steve praises. So pretty on her knees.”
He rounds the bed to grab a small pillow, then drops it to the floor next to your knees, nudging it with his foot until you shift just enough to be on top of it. You lean to kiss the back of his hand as a silent thank you.
Eddie is too busy remembering how to breathe for the 100th time to say anything.
You settle between Eddie’s legs, hands resting on his thighs, your lashes fluttering as you look up with all your attention back on him. “I wanna thank you properly.”
Eddie laughs nervously, then whistles low. “Shit–then go ahead, sweetheart.”
Your fingers go to his belt–because of course he wore a fucking belt–and Steve chuckles from your side, one judging eyebrow raised. “Why did you even wear a belt, dude?”
“I thought I was coming over to watch, not to get fucking blessed,” Eddie shakes his head in disbelief, pushing himself up to help you lower his pants.
His ass barely touches the mattress when your hands are already tugging his briefs. He laughs, out of sheer nerves and excitement, lifting again to take off the last piece covering him.
He springs out.
And just as you thought. Just as you dreamed, he’s big. Eddie fucking Munson is packing a thick, flushed pink, already leaking cock just inches away from your face.
Pretty boy with pretty eyes and an even prettier dick.
You let out a sweet, pleased little dreamy sigh, when you feel his heaviness in your hand. “So pretty,” you praise, then lean in and press a soft kiss to the tip of his cock.
You reach out, eager, hand wrapping around him to guide him toward your mouth like a lollipop. Eddie makes a noise no one in that room knew he was capable of.
Eddie sees heaven. Sees the clouds, hears all the symphonies and shit.
“Jesus fuck–”
Steve steps behind you again, crouching down. He runs his fingers over your spine, drawing delicate circles that don’t match the words that come out of his mouth.
“You think you can take another, baby?” He asks, kissing the back of your neck. “Getting bored of just watching…”
You glance back at him, hand still wrapped around Eddie’s cock, and look down to see the fabric of his pants barely containing his.
“Let me take care of you too, babe,” you chuckle, lifting your free hand to reach sideways, tugging Steve’s sweats and briefs down in one pull. He steps forward, letting you take him in your hand like you’ve done a hundred times.
Now you have two, very hard, very beautiful, very yours, dicks in your hands.
You give Steve one long, wet stroke with your tongue that makes him drop his head back and groan. Then, with a little giggle, you turn and give Eddie the same treatment.
“Fucking hell, Harrington,” he gasps.
Steve smiles, watching you go from one the other, teasing both. “Oh, I know.” He cups the back of your head, stroking your hair. “Show him, baby. Show him how good you are.”
You hum with Eddie in your mouth, the sound vibrating just enough to make him curse under his breath.
You begin taking turns. Your lips are glossy and warm and full, as you switch between them.
Steve. Then back to Eddie. Then back to Steve again.
Your hand stroking one while your lips wrap around the other. Back and forth. Eddie’s thighs start shaking with the effort of not coming in the first thirty seconds of this glorious torture.
He’d never seen anything like it.
He has both hands fisted in the floral sheets, barely keeping himself together as you take him halfway down and then pull away with a soft, wet pop that makes his vision go white, only to switch to the one who’s supposed to be your man.
And if it wasn’t enough, Steve hands reach behind your back when you put him in your mouth, bending over you with his cock so going deep it makes you gag, to unclasp your bra, freeing your titties for both of them.
He’s fighting for his soul at this point.
You split apart from Steve, taking a deep breath to recover from his dick touching the back of your throat, and wipe your mouth before looking up at Eddie with a smile.
“Hey Steve?” You call, eyes fixed on Eddie’s to catch his reaction. “Why don’t you get the camera?”
The…camera???
“Wait–what?”
“Don’t you want a little souvenir?” You tease, titling your head.
“What the fuck–what–do I want a–?”
“Steve likes it,” you shrug.
“Oh yeah,” Steve chuckles, already crossing to the bookshelf in the corner of your room. “I like it–but she loves it, man,” he adds smugly,
“You have photos…doing it?”
“Whooole collection.” Steve drawls, finding what he was looking for. “You’d go crazy.”
He is going crazy.
Steve walks back over holding a black Polaroid camera, and hands it directly to Eddie, who’s still gripping onto the sheets for dear life.
“I–” He stammers, looking at you.
You shrug. “My hands are busy,” you smile apologetically, too damn sweet for the situation.
Eddie finally takes the camera after a deep exhale, and leans back to lift it. He frames your pretty face between his thighs, lips parted open, spit shining on his cock. Then your mouth wraps around his tip again, and Eddie moans, loud and shaky, nearly dropping the camera.
He captures the grip of your lips, the way your tongue flicks over his slit, the stretch of your mouth when you sink deeper. Then you pull away and take Steve into your mouth instead, and Eddie moves the camera closer, watching your throat move, your hand still stroking him at the base.
It’s a miracle you are alternating, because if it had been just him, he would’ve busted in your mouth in under a minute.
You feel flash after flash after flash. Picture falling one after another, scattering on Eddie’s thighs.
“Holy shit,” Eddie chuckles. “This is filthy. God, you look so fucking good like that.”
Another flash. Another picture falling next to his balls.
You pop off of him with a messy sound and a smile at the compliment, licking your lips as you turn to Steve.
“Your turn, baby,” you whisper.
Steve steps closer, and you feel the way he starts twitching in your mouth. It doesn’t take long before he grabs your hair, and starts thrusting to get himself off.
Eddie’s eyes widen, pulling the camera aside to enjoy the view. The way Steve holds you there. The way he fucks into your mouth, chasing his release, his fist tangled in your hair, his chest rising hard and fast as you take all of him.
Steve finally comes in a few strangled moans, making sure he stays inside until you swallow every drop of his cum. He strokes your cheek with one hand, pulling out, reaching down to wipe the corner of your mouth. “There you go, baby,” he praises, still breathless. “So good for us.”
You don’t take more than a few seconds when you turn to Eddie, chest heaving, but before you can lean down again his hand comes up, stopping you.
“Wait!” He says, coming off a little louder than he means to.
Your brows furrow. “Are you–are you not enjoying it?”
“No no, Jesus–no,” he rushes, “You’re–you’re perfect. You’re actually heaven. I swear. It’s just…if you keep going like that…I won’t last.”
Steve huffs out a laugh, immediately understanding where he’s coming from.
Eddie wants to save his cum for when he gets lucky to actually fuck you.
Steve steps forward, helping you get to your feet. “Well,” he says, amused, “you’re a lucky bastard, Munson. I’m a man of my word, so I’m gonna let you fuck her properly now.”
Eddie gulps. Your eyes light up.
“That’ll get you going just fine.” Steve adds.
He takes the camera from Eddie’s side, then walks back to settle onto the puff in the corner again, naked, angling the Polaroid camera like a professional.
You take a moment to get rid of your panties, before pushing Eddie back onto the bed, making him crawl back until he’s in the center on the mattress, his curly hair draping over your multiple pillows. You climb over the pictures and his body until you’re hovering over him.
Eddie doesn’t expect you to turn around, but there you are, moving away to straddle him in reverse, giving him a perfect view of your ass. His heart is racing so hard he can hear it in his ears, yet a devilish chuckle still comes out before he can stop it.
“You want Steve to see your face while you bounce on my cock, sweetheart?”
You nod, biting your lip even if he can’t see you–because Steve sure can–lifting yourself up with your hands on his thighs. “God, yes.”
You reach to line him up beneath you, teasing the tip only for a second because you can’t wait any longer than that to feel him inside.
You sink down without giving him any warning.
“Holy–fuck,” Eddie groans, throwing his head back onto the pillows. “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re so tight–”
He only shuts up when he hears the moans you let out as he stretches your walls so painfully good. He feels as huge as he looks, he fills you as well as you thought he would. He’s balls deep inside you. Your knees are on either side of his hips, ass to his stomach, fingers digging into his thighs as you begin to fuck yourself on him.
From the corner, Steve lets out a low hum of approval as you bounce harder on Eddie’s cock, chasing your second orgasm. He strokes himself with one hand, the other snapping shots of the way your tits bounce, the way your face twists every time you sink down, the way you never stop looking at him.
Flash. Flash. Flash. Tug. Tug. Tug.
“Fuck yes, baby–look at you. You look like a fucking porn star.”
You smile at him, then turn over your shoulder, just a little to see how your other boy is doing.
Eddie’s falling apart.
His eyes are glued to where your bodies meet. To his cock disappearing inside your folds. And if the sounds were obscene before–they’re so much worse now. Between Eddie’s grunts, your moans as you ride him, and the clicking sound of Steve’s camera, this was a full blown production.
A priceless one.
And then you make that sound again.
The same sound you made the second time Eddie saw you fall apart on Steve’s cock. The sound you made with his fingers deep inside you. The sound that haunted his fucking dreams.
“You’re getting her there, man,” Steve says, stroking himself faster to the next series of whimpers you let out. “Make her feel good, then cum inside her. She loves that shit.”
Eddie nods. “That okay, angel? Want me to fill you up?”
You can't even speak. You just nod frantically, gasping as your rhythm begins to falter, and your thighs start shaking.
“You gotta come again first, sweetheart,” Eddie says through gritted teeth, grabbing your hips to push himself up into you. He can feel you pulsing around him.
“Steve–fuck–I’m gonna–”
“Then do it, baby,” he growls. “Come on his cock.”
You come harder than the first time. Your mouth drops open in a choked moan as your orgasm tears through you. Eddie nearly comes from how tight you clench around him.
But no. He still wants more from you. Needs it like he needs oxygen.
This time he does catch you when you slump forward, sitting up still buried inside you, placing a kiss on your shoulder as you both catch your breath. But the quiet doesn’t last long. He’s still hard inside you, and the devil on his shoulder tells him to finish what he started.
He earns a sudden yelp from you when he flips you, pushing you onto your stomach, pulling your hips back, and lining himself up again from behind…just like he’d seen you that day. Face in the sheets. Ass up. Wet pussy glowing under the nightlight. Floral sheets wrinkled under your body.
Deja vu.
But this time, it’s not Steve–no, he’s just watching. Eddie is the one pushing his cock deep inside you with a harsh thrust that makes your whole body rock forward.
He’s not that gentle anymore. Not in a mean way. Never in a mean way, but in a I-need-to-come-inside-you-now way. His hands are gripping your skin, knuckles going pale, holding you down as you become a mess under him.
He looks up to the couch, and he expects to see at least an ounce of the jealousy he’d felt the day he saw you with him, but all he sees is Steve’s fist going up and down furiously on his cock. The camera had been dropped as soon as your cheek had hit the mattress.
He wanted to see it. See you fall apart.
“…Holy shit, dude, go for it,” Steve whistles low in approval, chuckling when he hears your strangled gasps every time Eddie slammed into you. “Let him, baby,” he coos. “Be a good girl and take all of it.”
He really gives you all of it.
Eddie’s sure he only survived ‘86 just to see the way your tight little asshole contracts with every thrust he drills into your swollen pussy.
“Eds–Eddie–”
“I know I know. Almost there, angel. Gonna fill you up real good,” he coaxes over your small whines, “wanna see you dripping with my cum.”
Eddie slams into you once more, then groans so loud it echoes across the wallpaper walls, and finally spills inside you with a cry.
Steve comes in his own hand as Eddie pulls out of you, slapping your ass a few times with his cock before you collapse onto the bedsheets. Eddie falls right behind you, blinking up at the ceiling, coming down from his high.
In the middle of all the panting, your chests rising up and down, he doesn’t really know what he’s supposed to do next. Part of him expects to be handed his clothes and a polite “thanks for coming.” But instead, you instinctively roll over to him, wrapping your arms around his body and burying your face against his chest.
Steve just chuckles, finding his briefs on the floor and throwing them on, then finally walking over to where you’re cuddling Eddie, running his hand through your hair with a little smile.
“She gets kinda clingy after.”
You don’t even lift your head. “Don’t be rude.”
Steve grins wider. “Sorry, baby. Cute is the word. She gets cute after.”
You hum again, approving this time. Then, you let out a sigh of exhaustion, voice muffled in Eddie’s chest, “you guys are fucking crazy.”
Steve snorts. “We are crazy?”
“I didn’t exactly suggest a threesome, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckles, hugging you tighter.
“Whatever,” you giggle. “Just…don’t let me fall asleep like this.”
Steve kneels beside the bed and rubs your back gently. “Want a shower, baby?”
You shake your head. “Bath.”
“Bath it is.”
He places a kiss on your shoulder, then stands and walks to your bathroom. A few moments later, Eddie hears the water running.
He could’ve stayed like that forever, really. With you curled into his arms, naked with his seed still inside you, surrounded by the filthy pictures he’d taken of you. His hand comes up hesitantly, brushing your hair back with the same tenderness he always sees Steve do it.
Where does this leave him though? Is this a one time thing? A hit and run? How can he go back to his normal life after this?
He’d already been losing his mind over you for weeks. He’s never getting over this.
“Are you okay?” You ask, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Me?”
“Yeah, your heart is beating really fast,” you say, hand resting lightly on his chest, right over it.
Eddie laughs under his breath. “Uh. Yeah. I’m just…kinda expecting for someone to tell me to get up and leave?”
You hum softly, nuzzling closer to him. “I don’t want you to leave, Eds…”
He doesn’t get to say anything before Steve returns, a pink towel slung over his bare shoulder as he stands on the bathroom door.
“Well, dude,” he says. “You bringing her or what?”
Eddie looks down at you, all cozied up in his arms. You don’t say anything, but you smile, soft and sweet and welcoming as always.
The sun in his arms.
He's not sure what the hell is next for him now. But at least for tonight, he’s staying.
And I ain't gotta tell him, I think he knows
Thank you so much for reading! hope you enjoyed 👀🤭
you’re leaning back against lip, both arms kept clasped behind with one of his hands. his other hand paws at your tits as carmy eats you out, his strong nose rubbing into your clit, tongue deep inside.
and you’ll gasp and squirm and it only makes lip yank you back into him, his grip almost bruising.
“stay still,” he grunts into your ear. “or are y’that desperate for it?”
it’s been an hour now.
you can’t even form a coherent response as carmy licks and sucks and finally lets his fingers prod your entrance. his thick digits press deep and cause you to cum around them, hips lifting up off the bed, head thrown back onto lip’s shoulder.
they flip you around, carmy laying on the bed, you straddling his hips. with some help, you ease down onto his cock, already slick and messy from the previous orgasm. the slide is fluid and has him nestled to the hilt, letting him groan into your neck as you lay on his chest.
you’re so lost in the feeling that you don’t notice when lip stops touching you, or when his hands return on your ass. they’re big and warm, spreading the globes and watching how your cunt swallows carmy’s cock, up and down, a gentle grind.
his thumb swipes at the stretch of your cunt, which makes you whine into carmy’s shoulder, feeling lip hook his thumb inside.
“shiiitt— lip, c’mon, can’t do that t’me.” you protest, squirming against the added digit.
carmy holds you still, pulling you back down onto his cock, as lip retreats his thumb. you give a noise of relief until it’s prodding again, smearing slick over your other hole.
“no, hey!” you pipe up again, lifting your head from carmy’s chest to glare back at lip.
“y’don’t get to call all the shots, sweetheart,” lip purrs, his free hand pressing down on the small of your back, forcing you down again.
you arch away from him, using the motion to sink further onto carmy’s cock, who’s barely paying attention. his teeth scrape your shoulder, leaving little bites in his wake, both to mark his claim and to silence the little noises that threaten to escape.
when lip tries again, going back to his original plan of pressing a finger into your cunt, alongside carmy’s cock, you don’t protest. the stretch makes you whine, walls instinctively tensing, squeezing rhythmically.
making the slide easier, carmy reaches a hand between you to circle your clit, a firm pressure that makes you grind back into lip’s fingers, unable to escape the stimulation.
“i know, baby,” carmy coos, kissing and mouthing at your neck, “it’s okay, pretty girl. we’ve got you.”
the peak is blinding, mind-numbing as you wet them both, slick dripping down lip’s wrist and carmy’s balls.
“shit, shit— i’m gonna cum,” carmy grunts next to your ear, “fuck, baby. ‘s squeezin’ me so tight.”
you grind back down against him, purposefully trying to milk whatever carmy has to give. lip protests, squeezing your ass and holding your hips still.
“stay still,” he commands, before glaring down at carmy. “and we’re not done yet. hold it.”
despite the low whine carmy gives, frustrated and needing release, he somehow obeys. his eyes are squeezed shut, teeth piercing the skin of your shoulder, trying to find some sort of relief from the pressure in his balls.
with a new sense of urgency, lip removes his fingers, only to replace them with the thick head of his cock. you feel practically boneless at his point, instinctively squeezing around the intrusion, which pulls another groan from carmy.
“just relax..” lip soothes, his thumbs rubbing circles against your back as he pushes in.
it’s a tight fit, his cock sliding in besides carmy’s, your cunt restricting the both of them. you don’t even need to move anymore, body hitching upwards slightly each time lip gently pulls back only to bury in deeper, creating a friction between your clit pressing into carmy’s stomach.
it only takes a few strokes before you’re cumming again, completely overwhelmed by the new sensation. the gush of warmth pushes carmy over the edge, face buried in your shoulder as he releases deep inside, pumping you impossibly fuller.
“i’m sorry, ‘m sorry— fuck.” carmy practically whimpers into your skin, arms wrapped tight around your torso to pull you closer.
“jesus, bear.” lip complains, the snark evident in his voice.
he pulls out, your hole twitching with the sudden emptiness, again as lip lifts you up and off carmy’s spent cock. he lays you back down on the bed, your body limp and sweaty, but that doesn’t stop lip from pushing back inside.
you moan at the feeling, squirming on the sheets as lip fucks the mixture of cum and slick deeper inside, a lewd squelching sound filling the room.
carmy cuddles into your side, an arm circling around your waist, pressing little kisses onto your arms and shoulders as lip fucks himself to release. it adds to the wet mess that’s now pooling under your ass, the bedsheets sticking to your skin.
the bed dips as lip falls back onto the mattress with a spent huff. you’re panting and barely coherent, unable to form a single thought or let alone sentence. everything feels tingly in the best way, and yet carmy’s arm slung across your waist, his body pressed close, helps ground you.
a lighter sparks as lip lights a cigarette, passing it over to carmen. a second time, that he keeps for himself, and a final one that he balances on your lower lip.
Summary: Smoke’s back in town with a new woman and plans to settle. It’s been seven years since he left you behind, and he doesn’t know what he really walked away from. But you do—every single day.
Pairing: Dad! Protective! Lover! Smoke x Mother of his child! Guarded! Black! reader
Smoke comes into town, ready to settle down. He bought a house in a quaint, rural area of the delta. A three bedroom house fit for him and his old lady, the two of them were as happy as could be. He met her in Chicago and she came with him back down to the delta, arm in arm.
You hadn’t seen smoke in years, seven approximately. The only reason you kept track was because of the daily reminder that he left behind—Layla. You found out you were pregnant shortly after smoke ended things. The last argument between you two still rings in your ears. You yelling, him cussing, the tears falling and your heart breaking a way it never had before.
You two had a complicated relationship, always making your way back to eachother— but not that time. He slammed the door and didn’t look back. You accepted it, no matter how hard it broke you— even after you found out you were pregnant. You made everyone swear to keep it a secret, even Annie and Mary. They knew how things were and understood your reasoning.
Once he left, you fought to keep him out of your mind. He didn’t deserve a space there, you had more important things to worry about and if he ever cared then he would come back to you— at least that’s what you thought.
Layla seldom asks about her daddy and if she did, you were always stumped on what to tell her. She looks just like him, he couldn’t deny her— even if he wanted to.
You and Layla have a simple life, nothing too fancy— just something fit for both of you. Your routine consisted of the same thing— wake up, eat, clean, work on things you had to do, play with Layla, dinner and bedtime. The only time it changed was if you went to the store or to someone’s house. Other than that, it is very mundane and considered boring to most.
Today, was like any ordinary day. You sat outside on the porch, shucking corn and Layla running around the yard.
“Layla, please be careful!” You yell as she gets the edge of the yard.
“Yes, mama” Layla laughs, running around in the yard chasing butterflies.
While shucking you realize that you need a few last minute things from the store, so you grab Layla and make your way to Bo’s store.
Layla stands outside the store, playing with some kids—while you go inside. You push the door open and the bell jingles above you, you grab a basket and start your shopping. Bo sees you and waves, he doesn’t speak like he usually does and he has a funny look on his face. You wave back, not putting much thought into it.
You bend down near one of the shelves looking for pickled garlic and can’t seem to find it. You read over everything on the shelf multiple times and just as you’re about to give up, you see a hand in your face holding the garlic— a deep voice to go along with it.
“Is this what you’re looking for?”
You take the jar and turn around smiling.
“Thank yo—“
You stop in your tracks, almost forgetting what you were even saying. Smoke is standing behind you, eyeing you. You’re unsure of what to say, a million things racing through your mind. Your hand shakes while holding the jar, your nerves completely wrecked from seeing him. Before you can say anything, a woman walks over to smoke— wrapping her arm around him.
“Honey, you ready to go?” She asks.
He taps her hand, not looking at her— still keeping his focus on you.
“Just give me, one minute. I’ll meet you at the car.”
She smiles and walks out of the door to car, glancing back to see what was going on.
“How are—“
“Who’s she?” You point, interrupting smoke.
He stands there, almost like he’s debating on how to answer you.
“She’s my fiancé, Robyn”
You feel a piece of your heart die off when he uttered those words.
“Congratulations—“
“I have to go, it was nice seeing you.” You say in a rush.
Smoke grabs your arm.
“Wait, now just hold on.”
But before the conversation can continue Layla runs in wrapping her arms around your waist.
“It’s hot outside mama.”
Smoke lets go of you and just stares.
You don’t even bother buying your items, you just sit the basket on the ground and rush out of the door. You grab Layla’s hand and start walking down the sidewalk, hoping that this wouldn’t turn into something.
Smoke is chasing behind you.
“Woman, stop right now.” He demands with a southern drawl.
Smoke approaches both of you and you bend down talking to Layla.
“Cover your ears and sing your song for mama, okay?”
She nods and starts loudly singing a blues song she heard.
Smoke points at Layla with a pissed look on his face.
“Is she mine?”
Your lip quivers and you let out a sigh, not responding.
“Is that little girl mine!?”
You shake your head yes.
Smoke steps back from you, covering his mouth. You feel awful when you see the look on his face, you hurt him.
You hold back tears.
“I’m sorry..”
“Sorry? I have a baby girl and you don’t even tell me. All you can say is sorry?”
Robyn starts approaching the two of you.
“Is everything okay?”
He nods, grabbing her hand to walk away.
You grab Layla’s hand and continue to walk home, you feel like you’ve messed up big time.
You get home, feed Layla, clean her up and get her to bed. You could’ve never imagined that your day would go like this, that smoke would be back in your life. Opening up a chapter that you worked so hard to seal and keep closed.
More than anything you are worried for Layla, not that smoke wouldn’t be a good father— but a father and step-mother all in a day? It’s a lot to take in. She also has auntie Mary and her uncle Stack. You won’t keep her from his side of the family, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t worried about splitting time with smoke.
You light a candle and sit down in a chair, sipping on some of the corn liquor you had stashed. You never knew when you would drink it, but now was the perfect time. You gulp down most of it, just to take the edge off.
You hear footsteps on the porch, you don’t even bother getting up to check— you know it’s Elijah.
You go open the door and see him leaning against the wooden railing.
“So, why didn’t you say anything?” He immediately questions you.
You pick at your nails, looking down.
“You left, Elijah. You were done and I couldn’t change that. I didn’t want to ruin things for you.” You stammered.
He lets out a huge sigh.
“My child could never ruin things for me.”
His statement gives you a slither of comfort, knowing that Layla will always be in good hands.
He starts to pace the porch, smoking a cigarette.
“Who does she think her father is?” He hissed.
You shrug, feeling ashamed.
“She doesn’t ask often, but if she did then we would change topics.” You reply.
“Does she know any of our family?” He questions.
“Yes, of course. She knows her Aunt Annie and her Aunt Mary, she’s met Sammie, Cornbread and Slim gave her a harmonica.”
His brows furrow, he does not like what you said.
“The fuck!— they knew about her?!?” He shouts, exhaling smoke.
You put your hand out, trying to calm him down.
“Before you start getting in everybody’s ass over this, it was my decision. I told them and they respected it, be mad at me.”
He hesitates to ask, worried about your response.
“Did stack know?”
You immediately shake your head, reassuring him.
“No. I never told him, I wouldn’t do that to you and Mary swore to me that she wouldn’t say anything.”
He stomps out his cigarette and looks like he’s on the verge of tears.
“You should’ve told me.” He mumbles as he walks off the porch, getting into his car and driving off.
You wake up bright and early the next morning, getting Layla ready for the day. She hates when she has to get her hair done, so you normally bribe her and say that you’ll make pancakes. She doesn’t know that it’s an excuse, because you also want pancakes.
Today, she has on a yellow dress— with a white ribbon around the waist, two pigtails and white sandals. You can’t help but smile at her, she’s the best part of you. Mary bought the dress for her a while ago, but she had to grow some more before it fit properly.
She squirms in her seat, humming as she eats her pancakes, sausage and eggs. You pour her another glass of orange juice and set it down on the table. She hasn’t even met smoke and she has mannerisms like him, you gave birth to her— but she’s every part of him.
There’s a faint knock at the door, Layla paying no attention to it and devouring her food. You get up and make your way to the door, opening it. Smoke is standing there with a bouquet of daisies in his hand. You wipe your hands on your apron, taking in how good he still looks.
“Goodmornin.” He nods.
“Mornin.”
You stand there in the doorway, fidgeting with your cross necklace.
“Can I meet her?”
You nod yes. You would’ve liked a warning, but you knew smoke would just show up and ask.
“Just give me a minute.”
You walk over to the table and get Laylas attention, wiping the syrup from around her mouth.
“I want you meet someone.”
Layla grabs your hand as you lead her to the door.
Smoke’s face lights up when he sees her, he bends down— handing her the flowers.
“These are for you.”
Layla grabs them and giggles, still holding your hand.
“This is your father” you say to Layla, feeling weird that those words even came out of your mouth.
You’re worried about Layla’s reaction or if she’ll understand.
Layla drops your hand and runs to hug smoke, wrapping her arms around him.
“Papa!”
He picks her up and holds her close, tears in his eyes. You feel so awful for denying him this for years, you should’ve told him.
He is meant to be a father.
You watch as smoke walks around the yard with her, already a pro at it. It was like Layla knew he was her dad all along, she doesn’t question it at all. Normally, getting her to talk to someone she doesn’t know is like pulling teeth— but she’s immediately talking his ear off.
Smoke is outside with Layla all day. He’s given her multiple piggy- back rides, she’s had him singing her favorite song, she’s asked him a million different questions and they’ve played hide and seek.
You made dinner while they played outside— smothered pork chops, rice, green beans and bread. When smoke finally comes in with Layla, she’s passed out. The girl is exhausted, sleeping in his arms and drooling on his shirt.
“Where’s her room?” He asks.
You point to the bedroom on the left as you set a plate for him on the table.
He takes her into her room and tucks her in, leaving her door cracked open.
“I made you a plate, in case you were hungry.” You suggest.
“Thank you.” He replies, as he sits at the table with you.
“It smells good and looks even better.”
You were too busy eating, not paying attention.
“What?”
Smoke stares at you, looking you up and down. Almost like he wants to say something else.
“The food.”
“Oh, thank you. It’s nothing special, really.” You grin.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” You question him, drinking your lemonade.
“Don’t put yourself down, even if it’s just your cooking.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that it would ruffle your feathers. It’s just how I talk.” You acknowledge.
Smoke gets up taking his plate to the sink.
“You’re just too good of a woman to be talking like that. I don’t like it.”
A silence lingers after he says that. A silence on both sides. Your heart flutters in your chest like it did the day you met him, he’s the only man you’ve ever truly loved— but that ship has sailed.
Smoke sits back down at the table.
“So, what will you tell Robyn?” You ask, fidgeting with your fork.
He stares at you blankly.
“I’ll tell her that I have a daughter. Nothing else to say.”
“Elijah, how well do you think that’s going to go?—“
“I don’t know her, but I figure that she didn’t accept your proposal thinking that you would have a child pop up.” You remind him.
“Hm.” He replies back, more of a grunt than a reply.
“You seeing anybody?” He pries, changing the subject.
You let out a chuckle.
“No, there isn’t anyone around here that I want.” You respond.
“There still isn’t?” He asks.
You grin and walk your plate over to the sink, trying not to let what he’s saying take root in you.
“I want stack to meet her.” He announces, leaning back in the chair.
You clean your plate in the sink, your back turned to smoke.
“That’s fine.”
“Tomorrow? Maybe we can have dinner again.” He suggests.
“Uh, yeah. That’s fine with me.”
You set the plate down in the sink and wipe your hands with a rag.
Smoke approaches you and gives you a hug, which you didn’t expect at all. You hug him back.
“Thank you for letting me meet her.”
“You don’t have to thank me. She’s your daughter too.”
The hug lasts too long, like he doesn’t want to let you go.
You pull away, trying not to make it more obvious what’s going on. You walk smoke to the door and watch him get in his car and back out of the driveway.
You lay in your bed and all you can think about is him, wondering if he felt the same way about you. You’re no longer angry about him leaving, but sad at what things could’ve been— what he missed out on.
All day, Layla has asked about “papa”— she’s only been away from him several hours and misses him tremendously. You tried to keep her busy as you prepare dinner, letting her know that papa was coming back— but she wasn’t having it. Just as you finish cooking, there was a knock at the door.
Layla screams, face soaking wet from tears and following right behind you.
“I want papa.”
You open the door and without paying hesitation, she runs right into stacks arms.
“Papa..” she sobs.
“Oh, my.” Stack laughs
We all laugh, she pays no attention to smoke for the first few minutes. Smoke hands you the flowers he brought and shakes his head.
They get inside and stack is still holding her, she’s calmed down now. She plays with his mustache and you can tell that’s he’s not used to this. She notices smoke standing to the side and looks at stack, then looks at smoke again— she’s completely confused.
Stack grins, fixing her dress.
“I’m your uncle stack.”
She starts pouting and the tears start coming, she holds her hands out for smoke and goes into his arms.
“Papa’s here.” Smoke reassures Layla, rubbing her back.
You shake your head.
They sit down at the table, you fix everyone’s plates then sit down yourself.
Layla hums while eating, completely in her own world.
“So, that’s my niece?” Stack asks, chuckling like he can’t believe it.
“In the flesh.” You respond.
“She’s adorable.”
“That she is.” Smoke responds, leaning over and wiping Layla’s mouth.
You hesitate, but decide to ask anyway.
“Did you tell Robyn?”
Stack and smoke glance at each other, stack sips his lemonade.
“No, I ended things with her.” Smoke answers.
You look up from your plate, shocked.
“You what?” You gasp.
“It wasn’t gonna work.”
You sit there, not sure what to make of that.
Layla finishes some of her food and starts rubbing her eyes.
“Papa, I’m tired.”
Smoke moves her plate and scoots back in his chair.
There’s car headlights beaming through the window and someone laying on the horn, all of you look at each other concerned. Smoke waves you over to grab Layla, they both jump up— hands on their guns and open the door to see what’s going on.
They open the door and it’s Robyn, she’s hysterical. Stack sucks his teeth and glances at smoke.
“I followed you—“
“Wondering what’s got you acting so funny and what do I know, you end up at some whores house.”
Stack chimes in.
“Robyn, sweetheart, you need to leave.”
“Shut the fuck up, Stack!” She rages.
You hold Layla in your arms hoping that she would be still and fall asleep, but all the commotion keeps her awake. She starts squirming out of your arms, running to smoke.
She wraps her arms around smokes leg, hiding.
Robyn sees her and sees you approach behind him. She clutches her chest.
“You had a bastard child, is that why you left?” She laughs.
“Excuse me?” You respond, pissed off at that comment.
Stack grabs Layla, picking her up and walking back into the house.
Smoke points his finger, running off the porch towards Robyn. He’s angry.
“Don’t you ever speak about a child of mine that way.” He corrects her with an extremely southern drawl.
Smoke grabs Robyn’s arm, bringing her to the drivers side of the car and they have a heated conversation. You couldn’t hear what was said, but she was leaving crying harder than when she came.
Stack walks beside you.
“She fell asleep, I tucked her in.”
You turn and hug him.
“Thank you.”
He nods, with a grin as usual.
“You don’t have to thank me. I’ll do anything for my niece and for you.”
Smoke comes back on the porch, looking at you and looking for Layla. You point inside the house, whispering.
“She’s asleep.”
Y’all walk in the house and you wrap their plates for them to take with them. Stack hugs you again, before heading out to the car.
You hand Elijah his plate as he stares at you.
“Please bring my plate back.” You giggle.
“I will.”
He hugs you, kissing you on the forehead. You pull back and your eyes meet each others, staring for too long. He leans in kissing you, the kiss was something you had craved for so long. He sets his plate on the table and wraps his arm around your waist. The kiss is long, passionate and well overdue.
You pull away, before things get too far. You just aren’t sure that you two are meant to be together.
You stand there not sure what to say and he doesn’t say anything. He grabs his plate, nods, and leaves out the door.
Dinner didn’t go the way you planned, but it ended on a better note than you could’ve expected.
You lay in bed, tossing and turning. Mind going millions of miles per hour, memories flooding back, old feelings rising up. Elijah ended his engagement for you, he’d do anything for you. Maybe some part of you is still struggling to accept that things can work.
In the middle of you thinking about that, you hear a tap at your window. You jump up, startled. It’s the middle of the night, who could be showing up? You see Elijah standing there in the rain, you run to the front door—opening it.
“Elijah, what—“
He walks past you into the house, interrupting your question.
“I can’t stop thinking about ya. I love you and I can’t stand here pretending that I don’t. I never did stop loving you. We started a family and I want us to do this together. I don’t want you to move on or find someone else.”
You stare at him, your heart beating fast. This was all you needed to hear.
You kiss him, like you’re scared you would lose him again.
He looks into your eyes, holding your face.
“I can’t go through life without you. I can’t.”
You melt all over again, tears in your eyes.
He kisses your neck, slow and passionate. Your hand on the back of his head, leaning against the kitchen table.
You move from the table and guide him to your bedroom, he slams the door behind him as y’all stumble in.
“Sorry.” He grins.
Y’all fall on the bed, trying not to laugh.
He pulls down the sleeves of your nightgown. Staring at you, completely topless and nipples hard. A sight he always loved.
He sucks on your neck and moves his hand, swirling his finger around your nipple. Moving his head downwards, leaving kisses.
He licks your nipples teasing you, then putting it in his mouth on one as his fingers swirl the other.
You loosen his belt, completely pulling it off. Trying hard to stay focused, but what he’s doing feels so good.
He stops focusing on you and unbuttons his pants, you pull your nightgown off.
His dick hard, harder than you’ve ever seen. You bite your lip, ready for him to take you. He rubs his hands over your body, taking in a sight that he hadn’t seen in years.
“You know what to do.” He groans
You move into the center of the bed, bending over and completely arching your back. He comes behind you, smacks your ass and lines himself up. He runs his tip along your entrance, making you bury your head into your pillow to hide your moans.
He pushes the tip in and slowly pushes the rest in, inch by inch.
“Elijah.” You gasp.
“Shit.” Smoke mutters.
He grabs your hips and starts slowly thrusting in and out of you with long and slow strokes, making you remember every inch of him. You can feel your pussy stretching, trying to get used to him again.
Once you’re used to it after the first few strokes, he starts fucking you the way like.
He slaps your ass, watching it bounce back on his dick.
“Oh, I missed you.” He groans.
“Don’t stop.” You moan.
His fingers rub your shoulder.
“Can I?” He asks.
You nod your head.
He grabs a fistful of your hair and starts fucking the shit out of you. He loves pulling your hair and fucking you like this.
“Smoke, fuck.” You moan, barely able to form a sentence.
You start clenching around him, he’s hitting the right spot.
“That’s it sweetheart, you cum for me.” He demanded, the southern accent coming out during this.
“Fuck yes!”
“Oh.”
You do exactly as he demanded and cum all over his dick, the orgasm feels never ending. His breaths become short and quick.
“Shit, mama.”
“I’m gonna—“
He thrusts one last time into you, ropes of his cum fill you. He lets go of your hair and you both stay in that position, trying to catch your breath.
He slowly pulls out of you and collapses on the bed beside you, pulling you closer to him.
He looks at you, pushing your hair out of your face.
“I want you to know that I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave you like that again. I already know that you’re going to ask.” He reassures you.
A smile comes across your face, because that is exactly what you were thinking.
You lay your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and hearing him breathe. You don’t have to look after a few minutes because you can tell he’s asleep.
You close your eyes to get some sleep as well before Layla wakes up.
6 months later..
Your relationship with Elijah has continued to blossom ever since that night he came to you. He said he wouldn’t leave and he didn’t, he moved you into his house and put your name on the deed.
You two made the jump and got married two months after you rekindled things. You can’t imagine your life without him, now that he’s back in it.
All of your friends and family were there at the wedding. Slim was the officiant for the wedding, stack bribed him with some beer from Chicago. Cornbread and Therise, with their son Jacob. Mary and stack were there— Mary helped you get dressed despite being exhausted due to the pregnancy. Sammie and Unlce Jed, who lectured stack on his scheming ways. Bo and Grace chow, helping with the food. Annie, being your maid of honor. Layla being spoiled by the family and being a flower girl, she had to be convinced by Mary to do it . It was truly one of the best days of your life.
Layla is a full on daddies girl, practically attached to smoke. He is wrapped around her finger and just seeing him with her, makes you want to give him more babies.
This was the life you dreamed of. Your heart is full beyond words and you are happy.
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