Look Up And Get Lost

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[russianblush]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐘 | Emperor Geta x reader

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summary | Emperor Geta takes a liking to you but ends up with far more than he bargained for.

author's note | full blame on @hauntedhowlett. also don't look at me and tell me that man doesn't have a mommy kink, he does.

content warning | 18+ MDNI, sub!geta, dom!reader, mentions of spousal/child loss, brief mentions of pregnancy, subtle mommy kink, lactation kink (titty suckin' hell yeah), oral (f receiving), use of sweet boy/good boy, unprotected piv

word count — 4.2k

A widow, a mourning would-be mother—naive amongst your youthful glaze, the softness in your features as you stare down the two brothers from across the long, crowded table. It has only been a fortnight now, but your face proves entirely unsuspecting.

This meeting was about you—not of your late husband, not of legality or current issues to address, but your qualification to have a spot amongst men. Most were unaware of your puppetry with your late husband and his place in the senate—an older man triple your age that had brought you for a price.

Easily to manipulate, easy to convince.

“There is no place here for a mockery like this,” An older gentleman with stringy, greying hair chirped up from his seat, fist tucked under his wrinkled chin, eyes carefully examining your figure, licking his split, dry lips, “she is young—negotiate a price with her father and—”

“He is dead,” You state flatly, a piercing glare shot down the line toward the spoken male, seemingly ticked by the sound of your voice, expecting submissiveness, “And I will assure the price is one you will never afford.”

Caracalla, as aloof as he was, seemed to snicker at that. A high-pitched cackle that slips from his lips as Geta raises a brow, his mouth hidden behind his curled fingers, opposite hand spread out wide on the arm of his throne.

“I am well versed,” You address both of the emperors directly, “Educated—my husband would be displeased to hear me say this, but he was not the smartest man. I have lost more than just him, but I am not here to beg.”

There was no love lost, fortunately. He wasn’t a good or bad man, only a man. He frequented brothels often, voiced his displeasure when you weren’t serving him correctly, and only forced a child upon you because of societal standards. It was distressing, still deep in your own grief as you avoided the deadlocked stares from the surrounding men, praying that one of the two young emperors would have a soft spot, or even a weakness. 

You would find it, if needed. But, Geta’s amusement was a comforting sign. 

The same man, displeased with your presence, grips hard enough at his wooden cane that it starts to crack, “Better yet, force her to work in the brothel. Plenty of use for you there,” His gaze switches from the head of the table to you, nodding his head with a triumphant smirk.

“As I am sure your wife would love to hear about your visits,” There’s a collective tenseness, both of hands gripping the table and men shifting in their seats, eyes flickering back and forth between the volleying conversation, the dueling man’s face going slack, “do not act surprised, you keep company of men with loose lips, be thankful one of them has died with the rest of your pitiful secrets.” 

Geta clears his throat then, sharing a brief moment with his brother as they nod in unison.

“I will consider this,” He begins, tongue swiping along the inside of his bottom lip, “given the suddenness of—”

“Your highness, do not fall victim to her deception, she is—”

“If you value that head of yours,” Geta’s words are biting, quick, “you will not interrupt me when I am speaking.”

He’s highly temperamental, the dagger he’s spent twirling in his hand for the past several minutes tossing lazily against the wood as he flicks a hand up dismissively, “Get out of my sight,” He excuses them all, aside from his finger pulling like it was held on a string to aim in your direction, “you—stay.”

You’ve just resigned yourself to death, surely.

–

The wine is dark, staining his upper lip as he drinks, clunky rings tapping against the glass of his cup as he passes you off a cup of your own. He had his own private quarters, opposite of his brother and hidden down a long, trailing hallway, an office-like room attached to his quarters.

You weren’t going to defy his command as unsettling as it felt, his glittering and colorful robe dragging against the tile floor as you stood silent, a comfortable distance away. 

Your dress was unbearably tight, back straight as an arrow while your shoulders ached, but you didn’t waver, didn’t slouch. Your breasts spilled over the fabric, barely covered by the shawl draped over your shoulders, signs of motherhood that had yet to dissipate. You cleared your throat, shuffling quietly on your feet. 

“I do not like nervousness,” Geta announces, turning his head over his shoulder as he swivels his body to lean against the edge of the desk—the room was clearly unused, aside from now. 

“I am not nervous,” It wasn’t that at all, rather an uncertainty. 

“Drink,” He suggested, nodding his head toward your full glass, “it will help.”

He doesn’t seem to believe you and you defy his order further, traveling toward him to rest the glass against the desk, hands settled at your stomach as you look at him, his eyes carefully tracking your movement as he sloshes the wine around in his mouth, a fingertip trailing the rim before he mirrors your actions.

“G—your highness,” You begin indecisively, “forgive me for sounding…selfish, but is there something you require? Do I serve a purpose being here?”

“What are your current living arrangements?” He asks suddenly, fingers curled around the edge of the desk, tilting his head in question. 

“I am living under the selflessness of a senator’s wife—though, if he knew, it would not be welcomed with open arms,” Geta is aware of your steadfast gaze, rare that you ever looked anywhere but his face, not the usual roaming nervousness he had become acquainted with.

“Ah,” He chuckles, “If I may pry—well, I am…is it—”

The man who had challenged you earlier with a wife too gracious for her own good.

“Yes, unfortunately.” 

Geta contemplates—he wasn’t against you having a voice within his council, aware that it wouldn’t be well-met, but there was a way to ensure safety and submission; he's learned to mold and shape to achieve what he wants at the lift of a finger. It was a mix of power and practiced manipulation. 

“You will relocate here, to the palace,” He informs, “as an extra measure and because I am fond of your…bite,” His mouth upturns in a lazy smirk, “you will be well cared for here, I assure you.”

A man who was far too fond of his toys, you notice the glint in his eyes as soon as his expression morphs. Greed; he could have everything and even that wouldn’t be enough. 

It was only minimally amusing, his confidence. 

And within a few hours and a few snaps of his fingers, you were set up comfortably in your own room, a pleasant conversation with his less than stable brother and the obedient monkey perched on his shoulder—he was endearing, but visibly paranoid. 

You refuse the help of the servants as you attempt to retire for the night, brow furrowed in frustration as you reach unsuccessfully for the tied string of your dress, resilient and stubborn in your unwillingness for help as you curse to yourself, half a second from ripping the fabric in half before the door to your room is opening quietly, creaking on it’s hinges. 

“I assure you, they are here for a reason,” Geta remarks fondly, the faint fire of the candles lit around your room painting him in a warm glow, softening an unusually rigid man, he approaches without a word as you relent, hands curling around the edge of a nearby chair, his hand working methodically along the knotted fabric at your back, a few minutes passing before he’s tugging it loose, a breath of relief slipping beyond your lips.

Geta takes a few steps back, ringed fingers interlocked behind his back as he watches you expectantly, watching quietly as you turn with your arm clutching the fabric to your chest, hair loosened, your face relaxing into a natural scowl.

“Do you require anything of me?” You ask, curious of his lingering presence but not feeling threatened or undermined—shockingly, he seemed unsteady. Unsure. His confidence failed him for the first time in his young life, “If there is…something you would like to address, I will listen.”

“When did you marry?” An odd start, but you answer with ease.

“Fifteen—he promised my family wealth, it was a simple trade. They died not long after. Tuberculosis, or so I was told,” You shift from one bare foot to another as Geta’s lips pull together in a narrow line, “You know, we are not much different.”

That grabs his attention, his eyebrow raising in a silent question as you approach slowly, arms crossed over your chest now, holding the fabric in place, “Coyness is unbecoming, Emperor.”

“Enlighten me,” Geta replies, his restless hands finding their way over the collars of his robe as he tightens it around himself, joining him near the end of your bed—a strange thing to claim; this entire room, yours. 

“If my math proves me right, we are of the same birth year,” You begin, “—those men, your advisors, they severely underestimate you and Caracalla. They are scared of you, yes. But, if given the chance, they would strike you down without a thought,” He turns his head, blinking away a sour expression, feeling particularly bare despite his state of dress.

Your gaze was powerful, intense, even Geta could not handle it.

“I am trying to say that I understand,” You clarify, tilting your head to catch his eyeline, reaching out slowly to provide a comforting touch, hands curling around his wrist, “not that I understand your role and the burden it carries, but being young and overlooked. I have felt that, I still feel it.”

He’s never been approached so openly—though he prefers the proclivity of men who bow down without question, his psyching was always searching for something more. A poor boy without love, or meaningful relations. You offer a soft smile as he turns his head to you.

“You came here for a reason,” You remind him, “—make it clear.”

His eyes follow the steady rise and fall of your chest, your fingers curling over the rough, coarse lining of the dress as it pushes your breasts up, his tongue trailing along his bottom lip in a wordless hunger.

“Did you plan to force yourself upon me?” You ask curiously, his face flushing with embarrassment, “Or, perhaps, hope that I would be charmed by you?”

“It is rare that I am denied,” He explains, like a petulant kid preparing to be denied their favorite toy, “—but, you are not mine.”

“I belong to no one,” You clarify, “I am not a whore, or a servant. We are…equals, yes?”

“Not entirely,” Geta counters, still donning the crown on his head—more subtle than the formal one he wears around, a delicate band of gold leaves adorned with gems, “but, it seems—”

You smirk slightly to yourself as you reach forward with one hand, plucking the band gently from his hair and tossing it aside to the bed, fingertips trailing down to his chin as you tug his face to look at you.

“You need not put on a performance for me,” You comfort him, his features softening as his eyes flicker toward the crown, “it is as simple as just asking, Geta.”

At level ground, it feels more appropriate. If he wanted your head, he would have it.

Eagerness invades his mind, clawing forward as his palms form to your neck, jaw, lips pressing against yours with impatience, a hum of hunger laying in wait in his throat. For a second, you allow it. Indulge in the simplicity of desire that has been long forgotten, sighing fervently against his mouth before you’re taking grip of his robe and forcing him back, his eyes blackened with lust and his mouth open, blinking with confusion.

“Ask me,” You demand him, “I have allowed so many in my life to take, not this. Not you.”

Geta clears his throat hastily, closing his mouth, gathering the immense willpower it took to listen, comply, “May I—may I kiss you?”

You nod, a grin spreading across your face as he lunges forward eagerly once more, held back by your surprisingly powerful grip, unaware of how your dress had shifted down, held up solely by the body contact against Geta, chest to chest.

It was teasing, taunting him with the ability and control you had over him, lips grazing against his testingly as he laughs too, a quiet and joyous noise as you finally let him have it, arms wrapping over his shoulders as his own hands roam down your sides, around your back and down your side, squeezing a hand at your thigh and bringing it up, high enough that it can rest at his hips, his fingers kneading into the exposed skin near the slit of your gown, toying with the delicate skin that he could reach.

You revel in the neediness, an intense feeling of want washing over you, his nose following the lines of your face as they nudge at your chin, forcing your head up as his kisses trail down, spit slicked lips pressing into your skin, bodies separating as you dress falls, as bare as he under his own robe, plump breasts pulling his eyes down, a slow blink and an instant flick up towards your face.

“Seems the effects of motherhood are taking their time to dissipate,” You admit, his fingers twitching at the sight of them, “If that is an issue we can end this he—”

“No,” He growls, “it—sorry, it is not.”

You reach for his hands quietly, his gaze following your direction as you cup them over your breasts, the heavy weight of them in his hands, the gentle squeeze that would otherwise make you wince but instead has your thighs clenching together. Geta was practically salivating at the sight, mesmerized by the fullness and warmth, his thumbs rubbing carefully over your hardened nipples, a small opaque drop of liquid painting his finger.

You grab his thumb suddenly, shoving his hand away at the sight.

“Despite a loss my body continues to provide,” You explain, “ It is not a lot, but it lingers.I have tried…everything to will it away.”

“Why?” Geta asks, looking up at you with newfound curiosity.

“It is not ideal, you see—”

“Who has told you this?” Geta pesters, watching the liquid drip down his finger before he brings it to his mouth, “I see no issue.”

Your nose twitches in uncertainty, his fingers trailing an abstract pattern into the underside of your breasts, around the side, admiring, “I have always been curious,” Geta admits, his voice trailing as you slowly guide yourself to sit on the bed, the emperor following in suit as he kneels against the edge of the mattress between your open thigh, “did he appreciate your body for everything that it was?”

“He was barren,” You admit, “He liked my mouth on his cock and that was all. He did not care for much else or my pleasure at that, he was much too inadequate anyways.”

He doesn’t address the glaringly obvious admittance—a much longer story for another time that neither of you cared for at the moment, “May I?” He asks politely, his hot breath ghosting over your chest as you nod, his mouth latching onto your skin in an instant.

It starts at the center of your chest, face buried between your breasts as he pulls his robe open, aided down by the push of your hands, his alabaster skin contrasting the plum sheets, his knee rising briefly to push into the sheets as you catch a glimpse of his cock, hanging heavily and intimidating in its size, anticipating of the stretch if you allowed him so far. 

His tongue follows a planned path, along the underside of your breasts and around your nipple, grazing over the pebbled skin with the subtle taste of sweetness seeping into his taste buds as his lips wrap around and such, the faintest push of teeth in your skin as his eyes peer up at you, your brow furrowing in delight at the sudden shock to your cunt, nothing like you’ve felt before.

You did not know pleasure like this, a fair trade. It was a shock to the system. 

He’s looking for acknowledgement, trading off to share the same care to the other breasts, his free hand trailing to the side of your face and under your neck, cradling you with a gentle touch as the hand on your breasts curls around and squeezes, sucking gently at your breasts as his head tilts into your comforting touch, your opposite hand turning as you run your knuckles alongside his jaw.

“Sweet boy,” You praise, “is that what you wanted?”

As if he hadn’t been eyeing you the entire meeting, breasts squeezed together as you leaned daringly over the table to argue with your aggressor, quenching the hunger all day with a steady diet of wine and the assorted fruit placed around the palace, always within reach, watching you quietly. 

He nods slightly, distantly, as he’s focused on his current task.

“Geta,” Formalities forgotten by now, his eyes widened as you stare at him, rising on your elbows with a waiting expression, “have you lost your tongue?”

“It would—it would seem I have not,” He chuckles with a knowing smirk, swiping his tongue around your nipple in a circular motion, “I am pleased, yes.”

He shifts his arms around you, curled fists landing in the sheets beside your head, his cock sliding against the inside of your thigh as he settles to his knees, a fresh flush to his chest as he admires your state of nakedness, trailing two wondering fingers from your chest to your pelvic bone, a slow dance in the low light of the room.

You nudge his hand away, “You are eager,” You note with a fond tone, watching as began to lean into you, eager to capture your lips once more, but your fingers are pressing over his lips before they reach their destination, shaking your head in disapproval, “I have ideas for better use of that mouth, Emperor.”

He pulls back with grin, his teeth dragging over his bottom lip as you filter your fingers through his ginger hair, curling your hand over the back of his head as he bows, settling on his belly with his cock trapped between the sheets, slowly his nose buries into the coarse curls, his tongue dragging down the seam of your pussy.

Geta can only liken it to a taste of the divine, or the closest he would ever reach, settled between your open legs with a mission to please, to satisfy. And for the first time in his life—serve someone other than himself. Normally he would bark at the informality of things, only allow his given title, a strict instruction of a bowed head and obedience, but he finds himself bending to your rule and dropping to his knees, if you demand.

“You have your wits and sharp tongue,” He hums against your cunt, a delightful noise slipping out as you tug at his hair, “I suggest you put them to good use.”

As he does, you find yourself drifting.

He is precise, thorough—which is not at all expected from a man of his status, or any man, really. They were never concerned with the pleasure of anyone but themselves, but Geta has proven you wrong in many ways as undesirable as his ruling may be. 

You only cared for your life anymore, witnessing how delicate it could be when it came to everyone around you.

He likes to watch, too. It isn’t at all surprising, eager for praise he brings you to a quick and intense, but fleeting orgasm. It swells in your stomach, the heat pooling before it explodes, hearing the satisfied groan as he licks you clean, murmuring a shaky, “Good–good b-boy,” as you force yourself to catch your breath, allowing him to climb his way back up your body with the head of his cock nudging at your entrance, both of you sighing into the shared space as your foreheads meet and Geta was completely at your control, awaiting your next command.

“Are things often like this?” You ask curiously, “Is this what you seek?”

Domination; someone to submit to.

In a daze, he shakes his head, lips parted slightly.

“Do you enjoy that I make you feel this way?”

He smiles, sated, nodding in response.

“I want to feel you,” It was a whispered request, his eyes searching your face—again, even just the nudge of his cock between your folds was enough to make you tense and you find your own fingers drifting between your legs, dipping inside of you as he looks down, mesmerized as you guide his hand to his cock, wrapping your fingers around his as you work together in tandem.

When his brow draws together, you guide him inside of you, staving off his impending orgasm.

“Slow,” You instruct, hands traveling to grip his face, nodding his head between your hold, “You are…quite large, I am not used to that,” Geta seems to find a surge of confidence at that, leaning forward greedily to capture your lips, his teeth dragging along the fleshy skin as he angles his and pulls back slowly, entering you at the same pace despite the impatient shake to his body, eager for more, “slow—slow, look at me,”

“You’re obedient,” You praise, “far more than I expected.” 

“My brother likens you to a goddess,” Geta notes, the odd timing sending you into a gentle snort of laughter, “I must say I agree, you are mesmerizing.”

“I prefer Caracalla not be a topic as your cock is buried inside of me,” You retort with a kind smile, his own morphing into a frown of concentration as your knees hike around his hips, encourage him to lean his weight against you as he rocks his hips, a gentle rhythm that is drowned out by the sounds of the city at night.

His itching impatience grows tiresome, gripping desperately at whatever skin he could reach, pitiful moans of pleasure inked into your skin with the silent plea of more—please, more?

“Make me come once more,” You urge him, “and take what you need.”

It was all he needed to hear, taking the opportunity to slip out of you as he guiding you toward your stomach, guiding one knee up toward your chest as he hovered over you, turning your head to face him as he pushed his cock back inside of you, your walls fluttering around him in satisfaction of being filled again. 

There was a perfect view of the sky this way, a small alcove open to the night breeze, stars twinkling against the contrasting colors of midnight, “It is beautiful,” He begins, not admiring the same sight as you, a shakiness to his voice as he pumped his hips at a nearly unbearable pace, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure overtook you.

He’s panting into your skin, a feeling you’ve experienced in plenty of other circumstances, with a well-versed ability to separate yourself from your body as men chase their pleasure, but with the emperor, it was a different experience.

A cacophony of small whimpers followed by an utterances of words you’re not sure he or his brother have spoke often, “Please—-please, may I—“

The gravity of the situation flips as you realize your mistake, giving a man with far too much reach and power any type of influence over you, your brain searching for a way to counter his plea as you turn your body, arm wrapping around the back of his neck as he shakes with his impending orgasm.

Words are lost, unable to speak before he’s pulling out of you, the drip of his warm seed coating your skin, the tight grip at your chest loosening in an instant.

Thank the gods, you pray silently. 

“I apologize,” He breathes heavily, bottom lip swollen and red from the mutilation of his teeth, chest flushed bright and burning, “if—if I scared you.”

He uses his discarded robe to clean you up, unthinking of the consequences as he leaned back to stand, fully nude as he extends his hand in wait, beckoning you closer.

“Scared me?” You challenge, curling your hand into his own as he pulls you up, legs bracketing his thighs as your hands come to rest against his abdomen, staring up at the emperor. 

“Your bark is quite frightful,” He admits, “I can only imagine how you would rip me apart had I gone too far,” His words trail, a softening to his voice as he curls his hand around the side of your face, a gentle gesture.

“Would you like that, Geta?” You ask with a creeping suspicion, a smirk spreading across your face, “For me to rip you apart?”

A man of such power, unrestrained and chaotic—shrinks.

Almost too shy to admit it.

“Careful, my lady,” He warns, “I am still a ruler of Rome, such disrespect is—”

“Punishable by death,” You confirm, “but, you promised me safety, yes?”

Geta nods silently, watching the slow crawl of your fingers up his chest before they grab his chin, your thumb smoothing over the dimpled skin, his lips pulling apart in a shaky exhale.

“And I am sure a good boy like you will keep that promise?”

[gor3-hound-deactivated20251003]

FUCK YOU !! (AND, UH, FUCK HER TOO) — LOGAN HOWLETT + SCOTT SUMMERS

ft. scott summers x f!reader x logan howlett

a/n: deadpool and wolverine full throttled me back into my x-men era... rewatched the first two movies and binge wrote this over the course of three hours... it's pure, shameless smut with slightly gay undertones idk what to tell you... reader is basically in place of jean!!

cw: 18+ content, double penetration, almost cucking, cheating, reader is scott's girlfriend, logan is an asshole, competitive sex?? fighting, clawsTM, biting, marking, mild possessive behavior, p in v, mild scent kink, assholery all round tbh, creampies, threesome. gay crisis for a second x

word count: 2.3k words

Scott is starting to think Logan likes his things way too much. First, it was the way he looked at you when he was first brought to the school, eyes raking over your form. Scott wasn't blind – the visor didn't impair his vision that much. He remembers walking into the room when the both of you were alone. He could sense the tension between the two of you before his presence was even made known to you.

It wasn't until a while later he'd figured out Logan probably smelt him coming. Cocky bastard probably wanted to be caught.

Then, it was his motorcycle. His very own pride and joy. Returned with an empty tank, his keys tossed to him like it was nothing. His eyes narrowed imperceptibly behind his visor as he chucked the keys back to Logan. He barely managed to reign in his irritation.

“You gonna tell me to stay away from your girl?” Scott had told him to do so after that comment, despite having the faith in you that you'd be able to avoid Logan's charms. He was clearly wrong. Logan didn't seem like the type to have much respect, but this was just taking the piss.

“Been meaning to test if these beams could pulverise Adamantium.”

All he gets in reply is a shit eating grin from Logan as he pulls away from the heated kiss Scott had walked in on, his hands still gripping your waist. You really had the audacity to get all wide-eyes and shocked, like you weren't just about to fuck Logan with your ass perched on Scott's bike.

“Shit. Scott, I'm-”

“Sorry?” He cuts off, gaze very clearly still trained on Logan despite the way his shades conceal his line of vision. “Yeah. Save it.”

“Thought I could smell that shitty hair gel.” Logan huffs, bringing his head down to nip and suck at your neck, adding to the wide array of marks he's already left. And you fucking let him, tilting your head back and gasping like it's the best thing you've ever felt. Scott's gonna kill you, then Logan, then quite possibly himself. “How long’s it take you to get that done in the mornin’ anyway, pretty boy?”

“Right. Says the guy with kitty ears?” Scott bites back, taking a few steps towards the both of you. “I'm gonna give you about three seconds to get away from my girl and my bike before we see how good your healing factor really is.”

Logan fucking laughs, kissing his way up your neck and along your jaw so he can whisper into your ear, breath hot against your skin. “Stay put for me, yeah? Shouldn't take long, sweetheart.”

He pushes away from the bike, turning around to face Scott. Cocks his head to the side like a damn dog, rolling his shoulders as his claws shoot out from his knuckles. “Don't make me embarrass you in front of your girl, Cy-clops.”

Scott fucking hates that, hates the way he drags out his name as if it's stupider than Wolverine. Hates everything about Logan, if he's being honest. Hates how easily the man manages to get under his skin every single time.

“You're such a fucking asshole, y'know that?” Scott squares up, trying his best not to hurl a beam directly at Logan with the hopes he'd be able to send him flying through the garage wall. He's meant to be a team player. Level-headed. He's not sure how the older man always reduces him to this.

“That really hurts my feelings, bub. I thought we were a team.” Logan stalks closer, and Scott's vaguely aware you've gotten up, ready to break up a fight that never comes. Claws sink into the drywall beside his head at the same time he hears you tell Logan to ‘stop’. His back hits the wall, and then the asshole leans down, lips brushing his ear just like he had to yours moments prior.

“Y'know, I can smell the changes in your scent when you're pissed, happy... Can also smell it when you're turned on.” He breathes out, inhaling deeply just to tease the man further. “So either you're really into you're girl gettin’ passed around, or you wanna fuck me. Shit, or both. Which is it, pretty boy?”

“I don't want you to fuck my girl, Logan.” Scott grits put. His looks literally can kill, and he's becoming increasingly tempted to prove that to the other man. “And I definitely don't wanna fuck you.”

“C'mere, baby.” Logan coos, gaze flicking to you. He tuts when Scott goes to move, pressing his body against his to prevent him from getting too far. “Ah-ah. Stay there, pretty boy.”

You're at Logan’s side in a second, peering up at him through your lashes like an obedient dog waiting for its next command. Shit makes Scott's blood boil, his body going rigid against the other man's.

“D'you wanna kiss me, sweetheart?” He asks you, cocking his head to the side with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. And you fucking nod, like your boyfriend isn't right there staring at you. “D'you think he wants a kiss from me, too, sweetheart? Think he deserves it? Can't have been treatin’ you right if you came runnin’ to me, huh? Maybe I should teach him?”

“Yeah, think he needs it. He's always so stressed, never wants to do anything.” Now you're airing out your relationship issues? Fucking great. Scott's practically seething now, lips parting to say something – anything – to defend himself.

He doesn't get the chance before Logan's lips crash against his. He tenses up, ready for a fight. His hands come up to push the man away, but fuck he's a good kisser. It's a lot different from a girl – rougher. There's a drag of his stubble, a pleasant burn that comes from it. His teeth sink into Scott's lower lip before tugging, then he's forcing his tongue into his mouth. Scott ends up dragging him closer, eyes fluttering shut as he kisses back.

A growl rises in Scott's throat when he hears you giggle at his reaction, but he doesn't have much time to think on it, ‘cause Logan laughs all breathy and hot into his mouth, and it's making him short circuit. The growl quickly transforms into a low whine, his lips chasing after the other man when he starts to pull back.

His eyes open just in time to watch as Logan grabs you by your hair to pull you into a needy kiss, his free hand grasping at your hip to grind you against his rapidly hardening length. Scott feels his own cock twitching to life at the sight, a breathless ‘fuck’ leaving his lips as he reaches down to palm himself through his jeans. He hasn't been this hard in months – maybe ever. He feels like a horny teenager again, leaking pre-cum steadily into the fabric of his boxers. He isn't sure what to think of it. Humiliating, is what it is.

Logan's lips are on his again, his hands sliding under his shirt, tugging him closer. He feels his cock pressing against the hard ridges of Logan's muscles, feels your own hands join his in exploring Scott's skin, your lips pressing kisses along his neck and jaw.

“Relax, Scott.” You say, as if it's the easiest thing in the world. Relax, yeah. His dick is rubbing against another man's for the first time while his girlfriend is reaching around him to unbutton his jeans, and you want him to relax. This is a totally normal scenario that isn't throwing him head first into an identity crisis.

He gets lost in the hands on his body, the lips against his skin. Before he knows it, the three of you are naked and panting and pressed against each other. Scott feels like he can't breathe properly. His eyes dart between your body, and the fattest dick he's ever seen in his life. He doesn't know if he should be turned on or really, really insecure. His cock answers by jumping against his abdomen and leaving a sticky trail of pre-cum. Traitor.

Logan grunts as he lifts you up almost effortlessly, his arms resting at the back of your knees, using them as makeshift slings to hold you up against his chest, which is flush to your back. He quirks an eyebrow as Scott just stares, unmoving. “Well? You don't need me to tell you where to put your dick, do you? No wonder she's so pent up.”

“Asshole.” Scott says simply in response, stepping towards you. His words lack any real bite – he's too turned on to even think about being pissy. He fists his length leisurely a few times before lining up with your entrance, pushing forward inch by inch until his hips are flush with the backs of your thighs, your legs dangling helplessly at his sides.

You gasp and whine as Logan moves to slide in alongside your boyfriend, nails digging into his skin until Logan is buried to the hilt inside of you. Scott instantly peppers the skin of your neck with kisses, trying to soothe you.

“You alright, baby?” He asks, all soft and sweet. He's forgotten why he was mad at you in the first place, mind foggy with arousal as your cunt clenches around him.

“She's fine, bub. She can take it. Isn't that right, sweet thing.” Another whine, then a nod. It eases Scott, if only slightly, when he feels you relaxing against them. A beat passes, and then another. His eyes meet Logan’s and they both start to move – slowly, at first, before picking up the pace.

You're so much tighter like this, sucking him in desperately as he tries to find a rhythm with Logan. He can barely focus in anything but your heat and the way his cock ruts against Logan's as they both fuck into you. It's almost maddeningly hot, and he's feeling overwhelmingly anxious that he's going to cum in an embarrassingly short amount of time.

Scott leans down, his lips meeting yours as he rocks forward over and over. His lashes flutter as he sucks on your tongue, kissing you greedily. He feels a hand tugging at his hair, pulling him away from you before sharp teeth start to nip at his lower lip, a tongue bullying his way into his mouth. He sucks on Logan's, too, kissing him back just as hungrily as he did to you. He rubs soothing circles into your hips as he picks up the pace, coaxing you into relaxing further.

A growl rumbles Logan's chest when he feels Scott fucking you faster, his hips snapping against the fat of your thighs with more intensity, like he's determined to fuck you better than the other man. He's bigger, tip bullying your cervix with every thrust in a way that makes you tear up. His nose twitches as he smells the saltiness of your tears, then he's pulling away from Scott to lap them off of your face.

“Shhh, shh… you can take it, sweetheart. I know you can.” He coos softly, moving to nuzzle the crook of your neck, nose running along the skin like he's scenting you. Both men continue to slide in and out of your slick heat, grunting and groaning like animals as they chase their release.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” Your boyfriend coos. Scott needs you to cum soon, because he's barely holding on as it is. He doesn't want to leave you unsatisfied – especially now he's very aware Logan will gladly pick up his slack. His hand falls from your hip to make its way between your legs, thumb rubbing circles into your clit until your muscles grow taut. He grins, sucking a possessive mark over one of the hickies Logan had left earlier. Take that, asshole.

Your walls flutter and clench around both cocks as you reach your peak, a shaky moan of Scott's name leaving your lips as your head falls back against Logan's shoulder. Check and mate.

“Hear that, kitty claws? I'm still her favourite.” He huffs out, hands returning to your hips in an almost bruising grip as he ruts helplessly inside your tight heat, balls tightening as his orgasm rapidly approaches.

“S'only ‘cause she's lookin’ at ya, dumbass.” Really, it shouldn't be Logan's gruff, fucked-out tone that drives him over the edge, but it is. He blows his load a second later, forehead dropping against the crook of your neck as he fills you with spurts of hot, white liquid. He gasps against your skin, nails digging into your plush flesh.

Logan isn't far behind, grunting as he forces every inch of his cock deep inside of you, head tipping back as he releases. The tips of his claws threaten to breach the skin of his knuckles, but he manages to suppress them enough that they never fully unsheathe. He pants softly, chest heaving as he thrusts shallowly through his orgasm.

“Fuck.” He hisses, slowly pulling out of you. He lifts you off of Scott's cock, settling you down on the seat of the motorcycle so you can all catch your breath. Logan rubs soothing circles into your back as Scott steps forward, all but slumping against you as he embraces you.

“Did so good, baby. Was perfect.” He breathes out, pressing kisses along your bare shoulder. He pulls back just enough to look at Logan, who's already lighting up a cigar. “The fuck did that even come from?”

That shit-eating grin lights up the older man's face again as he takes a few short draws from the cigar in his mouth. He exhales the smoke, pulling it out of his mouth to speak.

“Trust me, pretty boy. You really don't wanna know.”

[maroon-cardigan-deactivated2025]

the slut, the prince, the freak | steddie x fem!reader

♡... got lovestruck went straight to my head

got lovesick all over my bed...♡

summary: eddie munson always thought he was invisible. with a cigarette in his mouth, he observed the world of hawkin’s high school from his usual parking spot outside. he was there when you and steve broke up and he started dating nancy wheeler while you played with the heart of almost every popular boy in the school. he was there when the rumours of your reputation turned cruel and steve lost his crown. and he was there when you started secretly fucking your ex-boyfriend in the boys’ toilets during lunch break.

word count: 10.5k

popular!fem!reader x king steve x loser!eddie | exes with benefits (reader x steve) | no use of y/n | no upside down | no mentions of specific race, hair type of body type

warnings: this blog and the content i write are +18, minors do NOT interact. NSFW. a bit of angst at the beginning. mentions of blood, bullying & slut shaming. voyeurism, fingering, finger licking, oral (m & f receiving) p in v, use of the word daddy, use of good girl, threesome, anal play, double penetration, unprotected sex, overstimulation.

author’s note: hello ♡ im not usually a steddie girl but i’ve been thinking about this idea for months !!! kinda inspired on miss americana & the heartbreak prince and slut! by taylor. loosely edited so pls be kind if you find any typos. it started being very smutty but it somehow turned out kinda fluffy too because you know i loooove a throuple and steddie is very sweet in this. enjoy x

masterlist

[dividers by @cafekitsune]

You were too young when Steve Harrington became your boyfriend. It was destined, your parents said, when they first found out you were dating. You were both sixteen, clumsy and unexperienced, and while he wanted to make his parents proud, you enjoyed the fact that dating King Steve made you popular.

But after two years together, your realised that there was something missing between you two. Steve was sweet for sure; he was nice to you, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t like him.

One day, as you were taking your books out of your locker, you saw him leaning on the wall talking to Nancy Wheeler. She looked at him from under her lashes, cheeks rosy and smile shy while Steve looked back at her with that flirty stare that once drove you crazy, and you just knew.

The next Friday you were in his car after dinner with his parents and you looked at him from the passenger seat, no pain in your heart, just knowing that whatever had bloomed between you two had run its course.

‘I think you should ask her out.’ You said then, eyes fixed on the windshield. Steve’s stare was overflowing with confusion at your words.

You had been his first everything. Neighbours since you moved to Hawkins when you were nine, best friends since the first day as the new girl at school, first kiss, first girl he slept with, first love.

‘What?’

You tried to read his eyes, knowing him so well, but that night his pupils seemed to be hiding something behind them. The sudden distance between you and the boy you knew like the palm of your hand made you feel insecure.

‘Nancy. She’s pretty. I think you should give it a shot.’

Steve’s eyes turned soft at your words. You weren’t angry, there was no sign of jealousy on your tone, and that was enough for him to know.

You gave him a sad smile and leaned in to kiss his warm cheek, your coconut perfume that stuck to his body like a second skin filling his lungs. The cold yet familiar texture of your lips lingered on his cheek after you stepped out of his car and walked back to your place.

Rumours flew around the school and though you and Steve smiled at each other in the hallways, it was obvious that you were no longer the It couple of Hawkins. A few weeks after that, guys from the sports team started to ask you out and Steve was seen making out with Nancy after classes.

It was weird the first months, but after a while you had to make peace with the image of them walking around the school holding hands, and you started going out on dates again.

But you got bored quickly. It was the same every couple of months, a cute guy from the football team would ask you out, you’d go on a date, make out or if you were in the mood, have sex and when they started showing feelings for you, you ended it.

You weren’t sad or disappointed, it was just boredom. Some of them took it nicely, others… not so much. But what if they called you a slut in the hallways? You were still pretty and inaccessible to most. You were having fun.

And Steve, well, he had heard of your reputation, but if he saw anyone talking shit about you, he was always quick on telling them to shut up. He knew he’d always be protective of you, waving from his bedroom’s window when you played with your dog in the backyard every evening, and closing his curtains when he saw you kissing some guy in your bedroom on weekends, sometimes staying in rather than going out as he meant to, just in case. In case something happened. In case you needed him. In case you called.

But that never happened.

There was another person in the school that was willing to defend you from the rumours, but you didn’t even know about his existence until one day outside school, when Jason Carver lost his temper with you.

‘I mean it was nice…’ He overheard you say as you stood in front of Jason. ‘I just don’t really feel we’ve got that much chemistry.’

Eddie Munson was leaning against his car from the other side of the parking lot, hiding his amused expression behind a cigarette. Whenever he saw your pretty face around the school, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. Eddie had always admired the confidence with which you talked to boys, dressed in those little skirts and knee socks he loved even if the autumn chill was too cold for them. Internally, he kind of liked how careless about dating you were, using those guys for a few weeks before dumping them. He’d argue you had terrible taste in men, from Harrington to Carver to any other pretty boy in the school, but he knew he would never have a chance with you.

‘What the fuck?’ Jason said, but no muscle from your face moved.

‘Come on, Jason.’ You tried to be kind but God, was he annoying. ‘Don’t be silly, I’m sure there’s a bunch of girls in Hawkins that would kill to be with you.’ He opened his mouth to say something, but you didn’t let him speak. You never let them. ‘Anyways, I’ll see you around.’

‘Wait a fucking minute, you slut.’ You didn’t even have time to blink when his hand grabbed your arm so tightly it hurt. Eddie observed how you frowned in pain at Jason’s grasp. ‘You don’t get to break up with me.’

‘We’re not even dating, asshole.’ You said trying to get out of his grip. ‘Let me go.’ But the pressure on your arm became even stronger and more painful. ‘Seriously, Jason. Let go!’

Eddie didn’t wait for it to escalate when his fist hit Jason’s jaw and the boy’s hand finally let your arm go. ‘She told you to leave her the fuck alone.’

But Jason was not going to let someone like Eddie Munson walk away just like that. His fist hit Eddie’s nose, and you took your hands to your face when he fell on the ground with a loud noise. Jason kept hitting him even when you screamed at him to leave the boy alone, trying to push him away from Eddie while a bunch of students surrounded you.

It wasn’t pretty. By the time they were separated, Eddie’s face was full of blood and Jason only seemed to have a small bruise on his cheek.

‘Hey!’ You called as the guy that defended you walked back inside the school. But Eddie felt too humiliated to talk to you, and all his bravery had been replaced by a deep sense of shame.

Steve didn’t think he’d find such a scene in front of him when he was about to walk out of the toilet. Eddie The Freak Munson walked inside the toilet with a bloody swollen face. Standing on his place as Eddie opened the sink, he observed the way the boy features clenched in pain when he took his hands to his face.

‘Do you need anything, Harrington?’

‘That just… that looks pretty bad. Should I call the nurse?’

But Eddie only laughed bitterly, not really used to anyone caring too much about him. He had always been invisible in front of people like you or Steve.

‘I’ll be alright.’ He said indifferently, and Steve nodded hesitantly, eyes lingering on the ringed bloody knuckles for a couple of seconds before leaving.

Steve didn’t think too much about it until he heard why Munson had been hit. The rumours said Jason Carver almost hurt you and The Freak had intervened at the right moment, but you felt weird talking about it, so you didn’t answer anyone’s questions as the bruise on your arm started to go from red to purple.

You searched for Eddie the following day at school but didn’t see him. His car was missing in the parking lot and when you tried to drive to his place to thank him, his uncle told you he wasn’t in, even if you heard the clear sound of a guitar being played behind the man on the threshold. So, you got the message.

Next Friday, you found yourself drinking and looking at Steve and Nancy from the other side of the party. Steve made eye contact with you as he danced with his girlfriend, and you gave him a sweet smile that he returned. It would never be strange for you to see him with someone else, but at the same time, you told yourself you weren’t really jealous.

But maybe Nancy Wheeler was.

‘Why do you keep looking at her?’ She asked. They were in the toilet after Steve had accidentally thrown his drink on her.

‘What? Who?’ His hands were a bit shaky at the anger behind Nancy’s eyes as he offered her some tissues to clean her clothes.

‘Who?’ She mocked, ‘Your ex-girlfriend, it’s like you’re obsessed with her or something.’

‘I’m not–’

Just then, the toilet’s door opened. Their eyes lift up to find you face, blood rushing to your cheeks quickly at the sight of your ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend.

‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ You said, to what Nancy rolled her eyes.

Steve saw the way you looked at her confused. He opened his mouth to apologize for his drunk girlfriend when his eyes caught the purple bruise on your arm, quickly looking back at you. You knew those eyes so well, he was worried. A question in his pupils as his mouth opened slightly. But you turned shy then, embarrassed by the bruise and by your drunkenness, feeling like you had somehow disappointed him.

‘Hey–’ He started, but you closed the toilet’s door quickly before walking towards the living room to tell your ride you wanted to go home. You shouldn’t have come to that stupid party anyways.

On Monday, everyone knew that Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler were no longer together. You started wearing long sleeved sweaters on top of your usual cute tops with the excuse of the low temperatures, but you were just covering the bruise that had made you feel so humiliated when you last saw Steve.

Eddie thought he was probably the only one that noticed you were wilting after what happened with Jason. He started to be more careful after the fight too, face still purple and swollen by the bruises that cost him the stares of people who called him a weirdo in the hallways. So, he decided to start eating his lunch in the school’s toilets rather than in the cafeteria.

But he still observed you in between classes, when you were distracted taking your books from your locker, keeping your eyes low. When you started to turn down the dates the popular boys invited you to, punishing yourself for what you thought you had caused. Eddie saw the way you hid your pretty eyes from Steve, who often stared the back of your neck during class or in the hallway, and with narrowed eyes he silently noticed Harrington’s face full of confusion and sadness as you ignored him in the parking lot.

Steve would lift his eyes to find Munson’s gaze on him, not breaking the eye contact as his ringed, scarred hands reached for a cigarette in his pocket. His cheeks would turn hotter at the piercing look in Eddie’s pupils, as if he had been caught doing something stupid, or as if he knew something Steve didn’t. All he could do was open the door of his BMW to go home and try to get you off his head as his knuckles wrapped tightly around the wheel.

It all went downhill for Steve after that.

Months later, some rich kids called Eddie to bring some weed over for them at a party, and when he opened the big wooden door of the fancy house, he found Steve’s swollen face on the other side of the door.

The boy ran past him, not even noticing when Eddie stood next to the door and watched him get inside his car. He should’ve done something, he should’ve offered him some help like he had done months ago when he hit Jason, but Eddie was paralysed. He didn’t realise he had been standing outside like an idiot, watching Steve’s car get lost in the distance, until a familiar body walked past him again.

Your coconut perfume made him take a step back into the shadows of the night. You were standing on the street now, your bare back exposed by a nice little dress, trying to see through the darkness. But Steve was gone. The night’s cold air made you shiver, and Eddie decided to walk inside the house before he could do something stupid, like talk to you.

When Eddie walked in, he looked around, trying to find any of the people he had spoken to on the phone earlier. He was about to walk into the kitchen when the sight of Billy Hargrove’s bloody knuckles made him walk away in the opposite direction.

You saw Steve’s bruises heal from the distance.

The laughs of Carol Perkins and Tommy Hagan made you lift your eyes sometimes, but Steve no longer hung out with them, the empty space where he belonged once making you frown your eyebrows with curiosity.

Sometimes you stared at the phone next to your bedside table, laying on your bedroom’s floor with your hair wet after a shower and your feet bare against your green rug, thinking about calling him. But you never felt brave enough to deal his number, and you had grown fond of walking your dog around the block instead of playing with him in the back garden of your house. Or that’s what you told yourself.

You thought he and Nancy would eventually come back together, hopeful that it might all have been a misunderstanding and completely unaware of how you had caused the breakup on the first place, but she was now dating Jonathan Byers. He must be feeling lonely, you thought the morning you found the new couple kissing against Jonathan’s car.

Yet you would still look back to your locker when you saw Steve walking down the hallway, a little red scar marking his lower lip, purple bruises around his nose fading. You were dying to talk to him, repressing a sigh as the smell of his familiar woody cologne invaded your lungs when he walked past. But you abandoned the idea, closing your locker’s door a bit too harshly before heading to class.

Didn’t everyone feel utterly miserable in high school, anyways?

It all changed two weeks after that, when you were on your way to the cafeteria and Billy Hargrove tried to ask you out. You stood next to your locker in shock, lips partly opened but nothing coming out of them. You had turned more introvert after what Jason Carver did to you, and you figured Hargrove would treat you worse than him. You’d seen what he did to Steve, and the way his little sister seemed so tense around him all the time sent shivers through your body. You almost felt your hands shaking next to your sides as you looked back at him, but the fear quickly turned into something else: anger. Why did you have to be so careful around all these assholes?

‘I don’t… I don’t think so, Billy.’ You said before trying to walk past him, but Billy placed his arm on your locker and blocked your way out, making you roll your eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but you pushed his chest with your hand. ‘I said I don’t want to. Leave me the fuck alone.’

‘What? You’re getting picky now after half the school has slept with you?’

And that’s what made you snap.

You kicked him on the shin by reflex, the first thing you brain could come up with. But when he reached for his leg trying to soothe the pain, your rage was too much for you to hold in.

Everyone in the hallway was looking at you when you bent a little to be at the same eye level as him. ‘Listen to me, asshole. I fuck whoever I want to, not the other way around. Maybe you’re not half as hot as you think you are, so if you really want the full thing, you’re gonna have to masturbate until your little dick falls off.’

Your angry words echoed through the walls as Billy’s eyes filled with fury. Under his breath, he was still able to bite back, ‘Who wants to fuck the school’s slut, anyways.’

‘That’s it–’ you said, but as you were about to jump on him, you felt someone’s arms on your waist.

‘Okay, okay. That’s enough.’ Steve said as he walked you backwards, his hand around your waist while you kicked your feet in the air and Billy composed himself. ‘Come on.’

‘Let me go, Steve!’ You screamed as he kept dragging you away from Billy and the rest of the students.

But he didn’t until you were inside the boy’s toilets, your cheeks red with anger and scalp a bit sweaty by the adrenaline.

‘You need to calm down.’

Eddie stood still inside the toilet’s stall when he jumped to the sound of Steve Harrington’s voice. He thought it was weird of him, or anyone, to be in these toilets that he found almost no one in the school used. Until he heard your voice.

‘I don’t fucking want to calm down.’

Eddie stayed silent, trying to look through a little crack on the stall’s door. Steve had both hands on your shoulders while you seemed to be breathing heavily with rage.

‘He could’ve–’ He started.

‘Don’t say it. Don’t fucking say it.’ You removed his hands from your shoulders, screaming at him. You knew it wasn’t Steve’s fault, but you were burning with anger. ‘I’ll fucking fight him, Steve. Hargrove, Carver, all of them. I’m so sick of this shit.’

You let out a sigh, trying to relax, but it was impossible. Eddie smiled at your words; he loved how tough you were despite the fact you seemed like a really soft girl. He repressed a laugh at the sight of Steve standing in front of you with his hands on his hips, trying to figure out what the fuck do with you.

‘I know, I know.’ He said, eyes serious as he looked at you through brown strands of hair that fell on his forehead, ‘But that’s not the solution–’

‘You’re such a hypocrite!’ You clenched your fist on either side of you, ‘You hit Billy–’

‘Yeah, and I fucking lost.’ He interrupted you, his hands were aching to touch you again. Your cheeks red, coconut smell everywhere around him, he was softened by the way your hands got lost inside your oversized sweater. He missed that, he missed that so much, making him suddenly nervous like when he was sixteen. He swallowed before speaking again, trying to keep those thoughts out of his head.

‘I would’ve had to fight him again if he’d touch you and I would’ve lost again.’ His words almost made you smile, stress and anger dissipating and his eyes lighting up at your reaction. ‘Would’ve ended up like Munson when he hit Carver.’

Eddie noticed how you shut your eyes at the sound of his name, tilting your head back and biting your lip. ‘I still feel so fucking guilty about that. I was never able to thank him and now I feel too awkward to do it.’

Eddie held a sigh at your words. A part of him felt kind of flattered, but another was relieved you never spoke to him again. As creepy as it sounded, and as pathetic as he felt for it, he preferred to observe you from afar.

‘I think maybe I should too.’ Said Steve as his eyes got lost on the tiles of the toilet’s floor. You lifted your gaze at his words, but he didn’t feel brave enough to look back at you. ‘I mean, that wouldn’t have happened if I…’

He let the words hang in the air. You turned your gaze to your shoes, arms crossed over your chest as the air turned tense. He took the opportunity to look back at your face and study the subtle changes that had somehow turned you even prettier after your breakup. No wonder you had so many guys after you, the air of confidence you radiated now made you irresistible. But he knew you. They didn’t deserve you.

When you licked your lips, Eddie couldn’t ignore the way Steve’s eyes followed the movement of your mouth.

‘We can be friends.’ You said then, looking up at him.

Steve nodded sightly, but you knew the darkness in those eyes too well. He wasn’t looking at you the way friends looked at each other. Eddie noticed the way your body shifted next to him, looking at Steve from under your lashes and biting your lip unconsciously, unaware of the effect that simple gesture would have in the two boys that were looking at you.

Steve looked down to your shoes when you took a step towards him. God, he was so pretty. You took your time to study the scars that now adorned the skin around his nose and mouth, dying to kiss them.

You remembered that summer night you had sneaked into his bed for the first time two years ago, the way his weight over your body felt so right, the safety and tenderness of it all. You remembered how Steve Harrington fucked: slowly, devotedly, sweetly, sloppy.

Maybe it was the habit that made his hand lift to stroke the little space of skin between your skirt and sweater. His fingers hadn’t forgotten, you were still soft as silk, and your coconut smell that used to perfume his bedsheets brought the same memories of your body beneath his. Mind clouded by images of your open mouth and arched brows as he guided you with the movements of his hips.

There was a time when you trusted him.

‘S that what you want?’ Steve whispered. His eyes met yours then, not trace of shyness in them, but the same endless devotion he so dangerously gave away as if it was nothing.

‘Maybe.’ You pondered in silence as you got closer to him, and your eyes asked for what your mouth didn’t. ‘I mean, I can be a really good friend.’

Steve’s hand found the back of your knee, fingertips following an invisible line from there towards your ass. Eddie couldn’t look away at the sight of your skirt lifting just enough to see the curve of your butt cheek when Steve’s hand found the lace of your thong. You gasped at his touch; this wasn’t boring at all. Not like the sex you were having in the cars of all those guys you had been dating the last few months.

‘Hmm, ‘m sure you can.’ His hand was playing with the lace of your panties now, he held the thin fabric strip before lightly letting it go, hitting your skin just nicely. He knew you liked that. His fingers moved to the fabric in between your legs, finding it damp. A breathy laugh left his lips in disbelief. ‘So wet already?’

Eddie couldn’t help but shut his eyes at Steve’s words. He couldn’t help but imagine what a wet mess your underwear was, the way he’d kill to put his hand under your skirt like Steve was doing right now. You moaned in response, and Eddie opened his eyes to find you looking straight into your ex-boyfriend’s, dark brown taking in the pretty scene in front of him. Eddie had a thing for girls that knew how to keep the eye contact, and you seemed to be fucking fantastic at it.

Your eyebrows met in the middle when Steve opened your legs slightly, with so much confidence behind, like he had never forgotten the little things that made your body melt.

Steve’s eyes stayed on you when he lifted your leg towards him, your knee resting on his hip. ‘What d’you say, sweetheart?’ He whispered, lips brushing yours as he spoke, ‘Just once for old times’ sake?’

‘Fuck, Steve.’ You rolled your eyes at his cockiness. ‘Just touch me.’

He let out another breathy laugh as his fingers dived inside your underwear. Eddie rolled his eyes when the sounds of Steve’s hands getting in and out of your wet cunt echoed through the toilet’s walls. You took three of your fingers to your mouth, trying to hide your moans by sucking on them. Steve placed his forehead on yours as you looked up at him, eyes overflowing with that purity he loved so much.

‘D’you like it, baby?’ He said putting another finger inside of you, ‘Did your pretty pussy miss me?’

It was the way you nodded innocently as your fingers came in and out your mouth what made Eddie unzip his jeans. How many times had you been in his fantasies? Way too many. And now you were here, being fingered in the school’s toilets, your frail body turning into nothing. He couldn’t resist to touch himself, the noise of your choked whimpers making his cock throb.

Eddie started stroking up and down his dick when your hand found Steve’s big erection under his jeans. ‘Wanna fuck me ‘gainst the sink?’ You said then, voice soft but hot, just how you knew Steve liked it. That voice had always made him dumb, and you knew by the way his eyelids had turned heavy and his pupils shiny, that his brain was struggling to process your dirty words as your hand rubbed against his bulge. ‘Can keep the skirt on and you can fuck me from behind, hmm?’

‘Fuck.’ Eddie whispered under his breath. He was trying not to cum so quickly, but you were making it hard for him.

Steve couldn’t resist your offer, unzipping his jeans clumsily while you bent over the sink. You looked behind your shoulder, innocent eyes inviting him as you stood all exposed for him.

Eddie’s clothes were wet with sweat at the look of your ass and your wet pussy ready for Steve, but when Harrington moved his boxers down and his cock fell out hard and big, something inside him betrayed him, trying hard to repress the loud moan that almost got him caught.

‘Shit.’ He whispered then, as Steve positioned himself behind you and the noise of skin against skin filled the toilet. Eddie had to angle himself properly before all his cum fell promptly on the stall’s door, staining the floor too. ‘Shit. Shit. Shit.’

It didn’t happen just once.

You didn’t know what this meant, and you didn’t care. You and Steve found each other in the school’s toilets at least once a week. In person you were still polite, but it wasn’t like you were dating again.

But it seemed like that’s what made the whole thing so nice. This was different from any other thing you had experienced before. In the time you had spent apart, you and Steve had definitely learned some nice new stuff, but you had never forgotten what could drive each other insane. And through all your encounters, Eddie sat down inside the stalls making sure he kept quiet as he heard your precious moans echoing through the walls.

He had also learned that Steve was very vocal. Growls against your neck, some pretty nice noises when you got on your knees for him… That was Eddie’s favourite sight while he looked through the familiar crack of the same stall’s door: your little mouth taking Harrington’s big cock so well. At times, he closed his eyes while Steve moaned, fantasising about stroking your hair and calling you a good girl while you made out with your ex-boyfriend’s cock.

But things are always bound to change, and one particularly cold day you found yourself getting fucked in the toilets once again. Your back was against the wall, heel on Steve’s shoulder as his dick touched that spot he knew how to find so well.

‘Hmm, you’re desperate for it today, baby.’ He said before thrusting into you, ‘Like it like that?’

‘Uh-uh.’ Your nails were leaving nice half-moon marks on his back as your head hit the wall every time he thrusted himself inside you. ‘Fuck me like that.’

Eddie could notice your hard nipples under your soft top, since you had taken your sweater off earlier. Steve was right, there was something freaky about you today, something that made Eddie even harder for you as the boy in front of you fucked you faster, and faster.

‘Hmm.’ You moved your hips against Steve as he fucked deeper into you. His eyes almost absent because of how good and tight you felt. You loved when he looked at you like that. ‘Shit, daddy, fuck me harder.’

Steve would’ve cum for you right there if it wasn’t for the soft growl that startled you two. You covered yourself with your skirt and he instinctively stood up in front of you, his hand finding yours right after he zipped his jeans and interlacing your fingers together. There was no noise for a second until something caught your eye, a shadow under one of the stalls. There was someone here. You decided to walk past Steve, standing in front of one of the green metal doors.

You placed your ear on it and heard the clear sound of a heavy breath behind. Holding your own breath, you pushed the door lightly, finding no other than Eddie Munson on the other side.

He was holding his face on his hands, cheeks red in embarrassment when you laughed with relief.

‘Fuck, Eddie. You scared the shit out of me.’

He looked up confusedly at you when Steve walked the distance towards the stall. ‘Munson.’ Steve’s cheeks turned rosy at what the situation looked like. ‘Were you…?’ He swallowed hard trying to find the right words.

‘I’m sorry.’ His anxious voice echoed through the walls, and you noticed the subtle shaking of his hands. ‘Shit. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’

‘Hey.’ You walked inside and bent in front of him. His hands were freezing when you held them in yours. ‘I’m not mad. It’s fine. It’s hot stuff, don’t worry.’

Eddie looked up at Steve then, who stood with his hands on his hips. Steve considered the situation for a second and shrugged in resignation. ‘Whatever, man. If she doesn’t care, I don’t care.’

Eddie let out a sigh of relief then, and you gave him a sweet smile. Your shoulders relaxed when the terror dissipated from his eyes, and something inside you turned soft. The idea of him being so scared almost broke your heart.

‘I’ll tell you what,’ You said standing up, a cheeky smile on your beautiful, angelical face as you spoke, ‘I’m feeling quite generous today.’

Eddie thought he was dreaming it all for a second when you walked towards Steve, wrapping your arms around his waist. You were still wearing no underwear, your skirt just short enough for Eddie to look at the soft lines of skin underneath. ‘What do you say, Steve? Should we let Eddie watch?’

Steve looked from you to Eddie, trying to process what you were asking. His dick twitched inside his jeans, still needing the sticky wet walls of your pussy wrapped around it.

‘Babe.’ He said unsure. His hands found your hips by reflex, the soft and warm skin above the hem of your skirt calming his nerves.

‘Steve.’ You said then, face turned serious before you looked behind your shoulder at Eddie, then back at him. ‘Are you really gonna tell me this doesn’t turn you on?’

Steve seemed hesitant. Not because he wished to say no, but because he wanted to say yes so badly it scared him. Something in his eyes made yours turn softer for him as you realised he seemed a bit insecure, heart beating hard against his chest.

‘Hey.’ You cupped his face with your hands and looked into his sweet brown eyes, brows arching when your thumb stroked his cheekbone. You didn’t know what this was anymore, but if you were going to do this, it was going to be with Steve and only Steve. ‘It’s just me. You know I’d never judge you.’

He nodded once and swallowed hard before letting out a deep breath.

‘Still wanna do it?’ You asked once again, to what he nodded more eagerly now, eyelids getting heavy as the heat of his body increased.

You took a step aside then, getting rid of your top, showing off your hard nipples and enjoying the idea of being observed by the two boys. You felt your pussy getting wet once again as your back rested on the cold metal wall of the stall.

Feeling Eddie’s eyes on you, you grabbed Steve’s shirt and pulled him towards you.

‘Now fuck me so Eddie can cum.’

And just like that, things changed. Now you and Steve met with Eddie at least once a week in the toilets. You enjoyed it too much. Steve would say he was just happy to indulge you, but you also saw the looks exchanged between the two boys when they were about to cum, the way Steve often looked at Eddie to check that he was enjoying it. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your orgasms harder and sweeter.

You found out quickly that Eddie loved to see you sucking cock, and Steve noticed Eddie loved to look at you from the other side of the toilet while he fucked you from behind. And almost in an implicit agreement, you indulged his fantasies too.

Eddie never touched either of you, though. He was just a mere observer on those occasions, and he didn’t feel brave enough to ask for it, scared it might offend you and Steve. He wasn’t sure of how things worked between you two outside the toilet’s boundaries either.

When he smoked his usual cigarette while leaning on his car after school, he noticed that you and Harrington never left together. He saw how Steve still looked at you during class though, the way the pretty brown eyes that often focused on his dick seconds before cumming followed your silhouette in the hallways. How his face turned red whenever you waved at him right after you caught him staring from the other side of the classroom; the tense frown on his face as some guy tried to flirt with you in the parking lot, mediocre speeches leaving their mouths before you simply replied no to their date offers.

Eddie noticed everything. And Eddie knew that Steve had never gotten over you.

You were more difficult to decipher. You seemed to be extra caring of Steve most times, always leaving needy kisses after finishing before you turned back to look at him and ask, ‘You okay, Eddie?’ with your sweet smile, but that’s just who you were. Outside the toilets, you kept being the girl you had always been, comfortable in that careless solitude that made you seem so unreachable.

Another Friday, another party; and you were considerably drunk, sitting on the kitchen’s counter with some girls from school, joking about the possibility of doing body shots while Steve looked at you from the other side of the room.

You had noticed him earlier, sitting on the couch next to Robin Buckley, but you promised yourself you wouldn’t give it too much thought. At the end of the day, he kept coming back to fuck you in the toilets every week. His pretty eyes lingered on you, that cocky smile that used to fill your stomach with butterflies at sixteen adorning his face, causing you to bite your lower lip as you tried to ignore him.

You looked down to the drink one of the girls offered you, when the familiar silhouette of Eddie walking into the house caught your attention. He seemed kind of lost, looking for someone or something. You knew what Eddie did in this parties, he wasn’t exactly invited, more like called when he was needed. But a part of you somehow wished he would stay tonight.

His dark eyes found yours and you gave him a sweet smile, too sweet, he would argue, bringing back memories of the little meeting you’d had with Harrington the day before.

He had to try hard to keep the image of your body against the sink counter off his head, Steve kneeling in front of you and his pink tongue softly stroking your clit while you moaned nonsense, your beautiful body turning into nothing just for them–

Weren’t you the sweetest secret he’d ever kept?

You noticed he tried to return the smile, but it was just a shy gesture that lifted the edges of his mouth subtly. You followed his body with your eyes as he got lost between the dancing bodies in the living room before realising Steve wasn’t on the couch anymore.

That was it. You stayed on your side of the party, Steve on his, and Eddie doing business like it was supposed to be.

Until your boredom saved your ass for once.

You stepped outside the house with a red cup on your hand, the loud music still bouncing through the walls of the house. It was too cold to be wearing the top and red skirt you had on tonight, but the alcohol made you feel warm, and you felt alone. God, you were always alone. The girls you had been hanging out with hours ago were either puking or getting laid in the rooms upstairs, gone as soon as they found someone else to talk to or a guy to flirt with.

Sometimes being popular felt too much like being pathetic.

You let out a deep sigh and downed the liquid in the cup, feeling the alcohol burning your throat. You cleaned your mouth with your wrist when you noticed the familiar BMW parked a bit further away from the house. Steve, your Steve, was leaning against the door, arms crossed over his chest, hair falling on his forehead.

You walked down the front steps and got closer to his car with a smile on your face.

‘Hey.’ You murmured.

‘Hey.’ He said back. Your eyes followed the way his leather jacket hugged his arms so nicely before you turned your head to the night’s darkness. You were trying to hide how cold you were as the wind blew your hair.

‘Had fun tonight?’

He laughed softly at your question. ‘Not really. Just drove Robin here but she left with… uh, someone else.’

You lifted an eyebrow with a flirty smile on your face. Steve couldn’t help but repress a laugh as his eyes got lost beyond your shoulder, anything to avoid the way you were making his body temperature increase.

‘King Steve’s date leaving with someone else? That’s new.’

Steve wanted to tell you it wasn’t at all new, and that he didn’t remember when was the last time he went on a date or the last time someone had called him King Steve.

‘You know that Robin is not my girlfriend, right?’

You lifted your eyes at him, studying his face before taking a step forward.

‘I know.’ You said, the candy gloss on your lips reflecting the lights of the road.

He could see the way your skin was full of goosebumps, but his eyes lingered shamelessly on the red mark he had left on your neck the day before. The sweet melody of your moans mixing with Eddie’s heavy breaths came to his mind.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the reflection of red and blue lights in the distance stopped him.

‘Shit.’ Said Steve. You’d recognise Jim Hopper’s car anywhere.

‘Eddie.’ He looked back at you at the sound of the boy’s name. ‘Shit, Steve. Eddie’s inside selling stuff.’

You were about to move when Steve put his hand on your shoulder. ‘Get in the car. I’ll get Eddie, then we’ll leave.’

You stayed in your place, confusion all over your face as Steve climbed the front steps.

‘Get in the car!’ He said before getting lost inside.

You didn’t waste time and quickly walked around the car to sit on the passenger seat. The red and blue lights were much closer now, music still loud mixing with the laughs of the people inside the house.

You observed how Hopper walked out of his car with other two police officers, your knees were shaking but the cold had nothing to do with it. Your parents were going to kill you if they found out. You sat deeper into the seat when they walked next to Steve’s car, before climbing the front stairs of the house.

You didn’t notice Eddie and Steve sneaking out through the garden gate until the driver’s door opened, making you jump.

‘Let’s go.’ He closed the door quickly as you heard the screams of people and Hopper’s loud voice over the music. ‘Eddie, let’s go.’

But Eddie stood outside the car as people started to run out of the house. He was paralysed at the absurdity of the situation, unable to move until you looked behind your shoulder at him. ‘Eddie, get in!’

He nervously opened the door and sat in the backseat as Steve turned the engine on. You let out a sigh of relief when he started to drive in reverse.

Eddie looked down at the strange looks of the few people realising the three of you were inside Steve’s car, his own sense of shame telling him maybe you wouldn’t want to be associated with the school’s freak.

But all you did was roll your eyes and show them your pretty manicured middle finger through the windshield. You could imagine what the whispers would say about you on Monday, but it was out of your control at this point.

‘Let’s get the fuck out of here.’ Said Steve.

He had been driving in silence for a few minutes. You were warmer now that Steve had turned the heating on. Eddie stood at the back, trying to ignore how the seats of Steve’s car smelled so much like him. Like cinnamon and cedar. Like pretty boy and money.

‘I can’t go home like this.’ You said looking through the window. Eddie frowned at the note of sadness in your voice. ‘If my dad sees me like this, he’s gonna kill me, Steve.’

He noticed how Steve licked his lips and took a worried glance at you before looking back at the road. ‘My parent’s aren’t home. You can stay there tonight.’ Eddie almost jumped when Steve looked at him through the rearview mirror. ‘You okay with that, Munson?’

Eddie looked up at the worried brown eyes on the mirror, piercing and protective in a way he didn’t know Steve Harrington could be.

‘Sure.’

You stepped out of the car as soon as Steve parked in front of his house, making sure to walk in quickly in case your parents were around. But your body visibly relaxed once you were inside the Harrington’s living room, leaning against the wall and closing your eyes to let out a breath of relief. Steve couldn’t help but stare at you, body full of goosebumps as you tried to calm down.

Eddie looked around the spacious house, at the green couch that must’ve costed more money he would ever make in his life, at the elegant lamps that fell from the ceiling, at crystal walls on the other side of the living room. He looked back at Steve, who hadn’t taken his eyes off your profile and was so evidently and pathetically in love with you, and Eddie knew then that he didn’t belong there or anywhere else.

‘I should probably go home.’ He said.

Your eyes opened wide at his words. ‘No.’

Your hand found his quickly, not even giving him a chance for his brain to register the cold touch of your fingers. ‘Eddie, come on.’

He stayed silent for a second, thinking about what words to choose, when Steve spoke.

‘Why?’

‘I…’ But couldn’t bring himself to say it, instead he just shook his head slightly.

The confusion in your eyes made his chest hurt. He looked from you to Steve, but he couldn’t hold the deepness of his stare, he would rather drown in the tenderness of yours.

‘Listen, I–, you two–,’ He couldn’t help but get distracted at the way your fingers stroked his rough hands. ‘You two work really well, sweetheart. I don’t know what I’m doing here.’

‘Hey. Eddie.’ Steve took a step towards him, his shoulder brushing with yours, tone filled with urgency as he searched for the boy’s eyes. ‘Come on.’

Eddie let out an unsure breath before brushing the curls of his head with his free hand. He didn’t know what Steve and you were asking, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. If he was ready to.

It was almost a whisper, the way Steve said it, but it was loud enough for you two to hear it. ‘We came back for you.’

You looked back at him then, vulnerability overflowing from those eyes you had loved since you were sixteen. And you knew. You knew that the something you and Steve were missing was right in front of you.

Your other hand found Steve’s then, making his gaze fall on you, pretty and beautiful under the soft lights of his empty house.

Your movements were slow when you placed Eddie’s hand on your stomach. He had never touched you, so he couldn’t repress the deep breath he let out as you guided his hand upwards, ringed thick fingers touching your ribs over your shirt.

You were still looking into Steve’s eyes when Eddie’s hand reached your chest under your guidance, feeling your nipples getting hard under your bra. He was so warm now, burning against the fabric that covered your boobs.

‘Tell me to stop.’ You told Steve, voice weak as he observed the way your cheeks were turning rosy and your eyes needy. ‘Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.’

He shook his head, a subtle gesture interrupted by his eyes following the trace you drew over your body with the other boy’s hand. You took Eddie’s fingers to the space in between your clavicles, then your neck, then your chin.

‘Jesus Christ.’  Eddie couldn’t help but swear under his breath when you took two of his fingers inside your mouth.

Your saliva was thick and sticky as you took them into your pretty mouth, tongue soft when it came in contact with his fingertips. You closed your eyes and let out a deep breath as you took his fingers in and out of you. Your eyes finally looked back at Eddie when they opened again, and he looked so entranced by you and your damn mouth taking his fingers so well that he knew he was gone.

You couldn’t help but pull him towards you, his body crashing softly and heavy against yours and Steve’s, the sweetest smile on your face as your hand found his cheek. You felt Steve’s arm wrap around your waist, chin sitting on your shoulder and erection hard against your ass while Eddie’s lips brushed yours, hesitating even when your noses rubbed against each other and one of Steve’s hands started to draw an invisible line from your knee to your thigh.

‘Just… just kiss me, Eddie.’ You whispered.

He finally got the courage to close the gap between you two. His lips were needy but tender. You were dying to bite him, to feel him. This wasn’t just sex, and you knew it by the way Eddie’s lips stroked yours slowly and his hands found your face while Steve left sweet pecks on your neck and temple.

‘Take me to the couch.’ You whispered breathily as Eddie’s lips brushed against the skin of your neck.

‘Uh-uh, sweetheart.’ His voice was velvety as he kissed along the curve of your boobs. ‘M not fucking you on some couch.’

You let out a soft laugh at his words. Your hand found the back of Steve’s neck as you looked back at him, he loved the way your eyelids turned heavy as Eddie started to kiss the skin next to your knee.

‘Want to share you.’ You whispered then. Steve’s eyebrows arched at your words, it overwhelmed him, how willing you were to give him everything so devotedly. His eyes almost rolled when Eddie’s hand found the bulge under his pants, and you smiled at him as the curly haired boy observed his reaction from below. ‘Re you gonna let me, Steve? Wanna share you with Eddie.’

Steve’s head was clouded by desire and fear, and his dick was getting harder the more the big hand of Eddie kept rubbing his bulge. His forehead fell on yours, the sigh that left his mouth stroked your lips, as he shut his eyes hard. His breaths heavy in between shaky words, surrendering to what his body wanted, ‘Fuck. Yeah. Yeah, okay.’

His heart was still beating hard against his chest when he sat on the bed. You got rid of your top as soon as you walked inside his room, pushing Steve’s chest lightly towards the bed just like you loved to do when you were younger. Eddie’s hands found your shoulders to push you into Steve’s lap while his lips started to bite your neck, his long curls tickling the skin of your arms.

Steve got rid of your bra when Eddie’s tongue found its way back to your mouth, swallowing the moans you let out as the other boy started sucking on your hard nipples. Your skin filled with goosebumps, Eddie’s cautious hand sneaking into your underwear to feel your pussy so deliciously wet for him. It caught you off guard, the way he seemed to know your body even if it was the first time he touched it, making you moan as two of his fingers massaged the spot he had seen Steve hit with his fingers so many times.

Your mouth opened to let a loud moan out while he still kissed you, making his dick throb as you felt Steve’s hand lifting your skirt to have a better look at the pretty image of Eddie’s fingers getting in and out of you. When the pace of his fingers turned faster you couldn’t help but throw your head back to rest it on his shoulder, breaking the kiss.

Eddie’s hungry eyes turned to Steve then, looking at the way the pretty boy’s cheeks were rosy under his gaze, the leather jacket he was wearing long forgotten on the bedroom’s floor, the tight white t-shirt he wore accentuating his arms nicely. Eddie’s arm still vibrated by the rhythmic movements of his fingers inside you when Steve swallowed hard at what he knew was coming.

You fell on top of his body when Eddie leaned in to kiss him, being nicely crushed by Eddie’s weight and caught in between their bodies, feeling his dick hard against your ass. Always used to being a giver, Steve got overwhelmed by all the attention he was receiving as Eddie’s demanding tongue stroked his and the smell of your hair surrounded him. He felt your lips climbing from his neck to his jaw, the way your tongue played with his earlobe before you bit it sweetly, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you felt his hand squeezing your thigh in response. You could feel his heartbeat, hard and fast under your naked chest, and your own body’s response, the sound of your pulse on your ears. Eddie’s lips started climbing down to Steve’s neck, and you took the opportunity to climb off his lap.

It was a sweet dance of an implied agreement between you and Eddie to make Steve feel good and safe. You sat down behind him to help him get rid of his t-shirt as Eddie left a trail of kisses down his chest and stomach. You kneeled on the bed so Steve’s head could rest on your thighs, pretty eyes looking at you with fear and excitement. You bent to kiss his forehead, his nose, the corner of his mouth while his lips let out shaky breaths that reminded you so much of the fear you both felt the first time you had sex. His shaky hands found yours as you smiled at him from above, and his eyes shut hard when Eddie finally teased the tip of his dick with his lips.

‘Fuck.’ He whispered in your mouth as the curled haired boy started to take his cock deep into his mouth, making sure of getting it sloppy the way you had done all those times he watched from the stalls. Steve ran his fingers through his hair as he looked down to the scene of Eddie taking his big dick into his mouth and feeling the tip of his cock hit the back of his throat. ‘F-fuck, yes.’

Eddie slightly smiled at you from the other side of the bed. You loved how moany Steve could get with blowjobs, whining in agony, turning needy as he let out the sweetest noises. He looked up at you then, brown eyes looking dark and desperate. He let out a breathy laugh before squeezing your thigh with one of his hands. ‘Come sit on my mouth, babe.’

‘Keep the skirt on.’ Eddie’s voice made you lift your eyes. His stare dark now, taking in the beautiful sight of you: nipples hard, mouth shiny and swollen by their kisses.

You nodded slightly, not breaking the eye contact with him as you moved to open your legs and sit comfortably. You made sure to lift the piece of fabric around your hips a little when you finally sat down on Steve’s perfect tongue. You couldn’t help but bite your lip as you kept your eyes on Eddie when he took Steve back into his mouth, rolling your eyes at the sweet sensation of skin against skin.

He loved the way Steve’s tongue rubbed against your sensitive clit, his big lips hungry and pussy drunk for you. How you moved your hips slowly, the way you held one of your boobs and Steve’s hard grip around your thighs as he ate you out, making his arms look veiny and strong. There was not one inch of skin in front of Eddie Munson that he wasn’t dying to taste that night.

‘So sweet, fuck.’ Steve said in between licks, ‘Such a perfect pussy.’

His hips had started moving up and down unconsciously, fucking Eddie’s pretty pink mouth repeatedly. You never thought such a sight would turn you on so much, but there was something about Eddie that was so rough and messy as he took Steve in. A thread of saliva falling from one the sides of his mouth, head moving with violent devotion. God, did you want to be fucked. The thought made your eyebrows arch in desperation as your orgasm started to slowly build up from the bottom of your tummy.

‘I’m gonna c-cu–’

‘No, you’re fucking not.’ Said Steve against your cunt, but he resumed his movements right after.

‘I-I’m going to.’

‘Fuck no, princess.’ Said Eddie then. You lifted your eyes to find him cleaning his mouth with his sleeve. His ringed hands pulled Steve’s thighs, getting him out from under your legs.

You looked flushed and desperate as you waited for them to do something, anything so you could get what you wanted. Eddie got rid of his clothes as Steve shook his jeans off his ankles, before cupping your face and kissing you hard, your sweet taste on his tongue mixing with the remains of your candy gloss. You whined in disappointment as he kept kissing you, begging to be touched.

‘Steve, please.’

‘What?’ He laughed as if he was completely clueless. You didn’t like being teased, always expecting to get what you wanted without working for it. His hands found the cheeks of your ass when you felt Eddie’s body behind you, emanating a warmth that made you feel so small, but so safe and cozy.

His curls were tickling your back when the tip of his dick started stroking your ass hole. ‘Is this okay?’

His voice was raspy but sweet. You let out a shaky breath but your eyes rolled as your pussy got wetter at the possibility of having both boys inside you.

‘God. Yes.’ You head rested against his shoulder as Steve’s mouth left love bites on your neck. ‘Yes, it’s fucking perfect. Steve, t-tell me you’ve got lube.’

‘I do.’ He said, lips brushing against your skin, enjoying how desperate you grew every second you didn’t have a dick inside you. ‘Baby wanna be fucked in the ass, huh?’

‘Steve.’

His face came out of your neck to find your needy, demanding eyes. His pupils were dark, moving to your lips as he spoke. ‘Tell Eddie.’

You frowned at his words as he kneeled in front of you, hands still on your hips, looking down at you and taking in the beautiful image of your curves. ‘Tell Eddie you want him to fuck you in the ass.’

You rolled your eyes half annoyed, half turned on at his authority. The soft stroke of Eddie’s laugh against your cheek made it much worse. Steve sweetly smacked your butt cheek at your lack of words. ‘C’mon. Say it.’

But you took your time, head turning slowly to your side. Your eyes lingered on Eddie’s mouth and then on his eyes for a few seconds before you let out a soft moan. ‘Hmm.’ Your nose stroked his and he almost started searching for your mouth when you whispered against his lips. ‘Want your cock in my ass, baby. Please.’

Eddie let out a sweet laugh, the shyness he showed downstairs had disappeared completely, instead you had found a devotion as overwhelming as Steve’s.

‘You always ask so nicely, don’t you?’ He whispered against your lips.

It took a few minutes of playing with your body to get you to relax. Steve stroked your clit with his fingers while Eddie kept teasing your tiny hole with a finger wet with warm lube. There was no distance between your bodies as your back still rested against Eddie’s and your hand stroked the hairs of Steve’s chest lazily.

‘Thought so much ‘bout this you know,’ Eddie whispered on your ear as his dick teased you once again. You could feel your body ceding as he pushed lightly inside you. You looked up at him with those angelic eyes he’d grown to love the last few months, Steve’s pretty mouth ghosting above your cheekbone as your nails left half moons marks on his arm whenever Eddie pushed deeper.

‘Fuck.’ You moaned. ‘I need you. P-please. I need to feel both of you.’

Steve was done teasing you, too turned on to say no to you. You saw the ways his eyes shut and his mouth opened in pleasure when his dick came in contact with the inner walls of your cunt, feeling Eddie’s hard cock on the other side of your body. A loud growl came out his chest at the overwhelming sensation.

You were gone. All you could feel was how you full you were, how cared for you felt as one of Eddie’s hands grabbed at your hip firmly and he fucked you slowly and deeply, taking his own time.

Steve’s movements were a bit faster, desperate with need as his eyes got lost in your beautiful body, boobs moving rhythmically with the pace of his hips as he went in and out of you.

‘Shit.’ You heard him say as your eyes lingered absently on the tiny drops of sweat adorning his crown. ‘Come here, Munson. Fuck.’

Steve grabbed Eddie’s hand over your shoulder and took two of his fingers into his mouth as his speed inside you increased. Your blurry eyes got lost in his beautiful, flushed face: eyebrows arched in pleasure but eyes dark with desire as he kept fucking you. Eddie couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of Steve’s warm wet tongue before he took the big hand out of his mouth, a thread of saliva hanging in between you two, and guided it towards your centre.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and arch your back at the overstimulation. There was no inch of your skin that wasn’t burning, no curve that wasn’t worshipped, no stare that wasn’t met with overflowing adoration. No part of your body that wasn’t being loved by the two boys.

‘Come on, baby.’ You heard Eddie’s voice in the distance as his hand touched the sensitive nerves of your clit and his dick kept stretching out your ass hole. ‘You can cum now, you can let go. It’s okay.’

You could only reply with moans, high-pitched needy sounds that made them move closer to you, crushing you in between them. Your back against Eddie’s chest, boobs pressed against Steve. Something hot wet your face, you were fucking crying at how good it all felt.

Steve cupped your face with one of his hands then, lost in the way your lips opened slightly, eyes absent and body focused in just feeling. His head found a comfortable place on your neck as your grip on his arm got even tighter and you felt the walls of your cunt and ass contract before your body exploded in pleasure.

‘Fuck, baby.’ Said Steve on your neck. ‘Look at you. Fuck, fuck, fuck.’

Something hot and sticky fell from your thighs. Eddie’s lips left a wet kiss on your shoulder as your convulsions became less intense, you could feel his hard breaths while he kept hugging you from behind. ‘You did so well, princess. So well.’  

You stayed there, crushed in between their bodies for a few minutes, or maybe hours. Eddie was still stroking the skin next to your belly button when you felt the weight of Steve’s body lift. The sound of water running in the distance. Crickets outside or maybe the birds waking up.

‘Let’s go clean you up, babe.’ Said Eddie, leaving a sweet kiss on your temple.

You opened your eyes to find him smiling at you, eyes full of tenderness. A tickling touch made you lift your eyes to the end of the bed, where Steve’s stood up, sweet smile, tired eyes and hair messy while his fingers wrapped around your ankle.

‘Come on, pretty girl. You can take a nap later.’

You let out a silly giggle. This was absurd.

I do no consent for people to plagiarise, translate, copy or repost any of my written works anywhere. I do not consent people to use any of my written work for AI purposes.

[flowerbitz]

character development is agreeing that jamie campbell bower is the best jace and the most accurate representation of him

[tortagnamgnam]

This is the lucky clover cat. reblog this in 30 seconds & he will bring u good luck and fortune.

[unclebabie]

THIS ONE!!! THIS IS THE ONE THAT WORKS!!!!!

I reblogged him the day i started treatment and 1. GOT TO MY APPOINTMENT ON TIME 2. FOUND A FREE PARKING TICKET SOMEONE LEFT IN THE METER FOR ME AND 3. GOT FREE STARBUCKS AFTER MY APPOINTMENT!!!!!

[secondlina]

I’m gonna reblog this because it brought me immense enjoyment to look at.

[doctorgerth]

When your crew group chat brings all the love and support for your dick pic that you’re nervous about sending to your girlfriend:

original

[daonepiece]

Hello! I don't know what and why but I drew these anw

[sodaneko]

🍆 online dating headcanons: supernovas

[part 1 w/ Whitebeard pirates]

a/n: i have too much fun roasting your favorite little crime men, so here's part 2! and don't worry, there probably will be a sequel to that, too...

Luffy

this boy has the dating profile of a 67 year old man

it's mostly photos of cool bugs

or him holding the cool bugs, covering half of his face with them (some look a bit arty by accident because they're so blurry bc this boi is fast af when he is excited for something)

i feel like he is someone who overuses emojis A LOT and out of context too. they almost sound cryptic

🦔🧦🤼🔑👁‍🗨🟧🏴‍☠️

WHAT DOES IT MEAN BRO

you'll never know

he doesn't know either

you can keep the conversation going by mentioning that you're a foodie and like some good meat

wink wink

but don't complain if he takes you out to an all you can eat restaurant and the thing getting eaten is everything except you

Zoro

your typical fitness bro

all of his pictures are just mirror selfies from the gym wtf

granted, he knows his good angles

start the conversation maybe with a good recipe for a protein shake? idk i have not once in my life matched a fitness bro so don't take my advice maybe

if you start texting, expect a lot of thirst traps straight from the gym, lots of sweat, a shirt pulled up a bit to show off his 16-pack or whatever (if he even bothers to wear a shirt), a photo from behind to show that his back is very beefy too

but don't be fooled because he will sent them to his whole contact list and his fitness account with 500k followers

you just know he has "no PAINZ no GAINZ 💯" in his bio

so take that to your heart and text him anyway even though it's a pain in the ass, it will be rewarding in the end

if you're looking for a fuck buddy this is your mans

Law

his photos just scream dark academia. they also scream "i'm your thoughtful mystery lover with the sexy finger tattoos" and also "please heal my broken heart while we listen to Evanescence together"

but in reality he is just very tired and people mistake it for a lifestyle

Bepo takes all of his photos and edits them, he has a really good eye

one photo is the doctor posing naked in front of a chimney fire on a bear rug (it's not a regular bear rug but Bepo who is very good at photoshop)

it wasn't even Law himself who created his online dating profile but Penguin & Shachi because they agreed their captain needed a bit of support in those things, Law was just too tired to object (and maybe they were right after all...)

he's a busy man and you need a really good hook up line to make him text you back

"i think you've stolen my heart, give it back" isn't one of them

talk to him about gross medical things maybe or how much you hate bread (even if it's a lie)

just don't try sexting with him because you will get a lot of anatomical terms and a very long paragraph that sounded sexy in his head but reads like an user manual

overall a very nice match if you're into emo boys with tragic backstories that just have written "fix me if you can" all over their face

Kid

ahh yes, the little kinky man

of course you can find him on the naughty online dating sites where you can look for your next fuck buddy, pet or a sugar mommy/daddy/questionable parental figure

his photos are thirst traps of course, half of them mirror selfies with flash on

doesn't care about censoring, his junk is OUT, why hide it

will text you "wyd?" and "send nudes" within two seconds

foolish of you to think that one nude with a tiddie out would satisfy him, this little racoon is greedy af

just know that at one point he accidentally created a group chat with all of his matches, believing he would message them "i'm so hard for u" individually

he never recovered from that

Kid gets matched by mean lesbians A LOT (no wonder, he looks like one too)

it happens so often that he pulls Killer to the side, asking with a stern look on his face: "be honest. is there anything about my appearance that screams 'i want to get pegged' because apparently people feel that way about me"

Killer thinks a little bit too long and almost gets thrown overboard

Killer

the mysterious masked man

usually one would barely get matches without their face revealed, but it's probably his luscious long blonde hair and all the shirtless photos that give him countless matches anyway

who doesn't love a faceless ideal fantasy to project their deepest desires on, isn't that what dating apps were created in the first place

just never jokingly ask what's underneath the mask or else you'll get unmatched immediately

maybe ask him about his hair routine or favorite pasta place in town instead

or his favorite youtube channel Pasta Grannies

he would be the best to have long, meaningful conversations with on the dating apps

until he deletes his profile out of the blue, leaving you wondering forever 'what if...'

that is until you match him again

and again

yes again

he's a serial matcher

[quiteliterallyhotsauce]

You’re going to receive GOOD NEWS this week.

[witchfromthemidwest]

I CLAIM THAT SHIT

[mjsheartisstillbeating]

@thatpettyblackgirl

[quiteliterallyhotsauce]

[haroldhatter-deactivated2019081]

I don’t think I’ve reblogged this yet this week, but I did see it earlier today, and I got a new job! 

And I went in assuming that it would just be a volunteer job, but I’m getting paid $15 an hour! 

[team-flashh]

HOLY FUCK! I GOT A RAISE!!!

I came into work and bumped into my boss and she said that she was looking for me because she wanted to let me know about my raise. This shit worked in an hour omg

[raspberri-iced-tea]

i fuckin need some good news right about now so pile it on

[legendarymasterwolf]

Need that right now

[5point5]

tfw youre the only one in the friend group with artistic vision

[loveitorreblogit]

Ussop knows how REAL KINGS wear:

bonus:

[histcrias]

your type master list

— pairing: streamer!eren jaeger x fem!reader

— genre: streamer!au, crack, fluff, comedy

— status: semi-hiatus

in which y/n l/n is a semi popular twitch streamer, who accidentally starts a rivalry with eren jaeger after dissing him on her stream.

y/n + friends — eren + friends

chapter one : boring

chapter two: cancelled

chapter three: hot

chapter four: thinking

chapter five: down bad

chapter six: so dumb

chapter seven: clout chaser

chapter eight: just curious

tag list :: open

( italics can’t be tagged )

@quacksonlover81 @erensslutt @paradigm-e @1-800-simpingcowbaby @mika-kc @fandomtrashgoddess @sanguinesnail @snowyseungs @blazemay @turn-diamonds-into-snow @ashveil @sannieluvsmilfs @yatoe @bbyhaji @natcat2727 @stardusthyuck @obnoxiouslylame @eurydiceux @chemeinpain @akaashisus @bluecatton @hellostupiid @lazalee @why-couldnt-it-be @luvelyxp @hoe4hq @chittaphon96 @poetrylalisa @3rens-r3t @sunasro @mariaerdgzn @erens-piss-cleaner @sunfloweraron @persyhange @mayaackerman @sirens-760 @hugemommymilkers @tobiosbbyghorl @chwlogy @ascybous @k3njirou @ironspider-girl @qiqiscocogoatmilk @erensslut @rivaillesbae

authors note:

hiiii, this is my first smau on here, so i make no promises that it’s gonna be anything good right away! i am a simp for modern au/streamer!eren n theres like no smau’s for him on here so i couldn’t help myself 🙄 also this plot is so basic but who cares it’s gonna be fun that’s all that matters 🙏🙏

[l0verseyes]

they later ask if he won the fight (he did) (theyre proud)

[niitsumee]

ASL 🐱

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

Nami refers to Usopp-as-Sogeking as 鼻キング/hanakingu which is just. Nose-king.

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

AND THEN SHE FUCKS IT UP AND ACCIDENTALLY CALLS HIM 鼻ップ/hanappu, BASICALLY ‘NOSE-SOPP’, INSTEAD.

And his response is そげキングと一字もあわなくなったか/sogekingu to ichiji mo awanakunattaka, which is basically “That doesn’t even have one letter in common with ‘Sogeking’ >:(”

[dogflamingo]

Rob Lucci was seen as a heartless murderer, only working for the government, because it provided him a legal means of killing others.  Of course, he did much to cultivate this opinion.  On the other hand, he gently took care of Hattori on a daily basis.  Not only did he clean and feed him, he dealt with him intimately enough to train him to do tricks as complicated as ventriloquism and pantomime.  Hattori understood him perfectly and responded to Lucci as would a long time friend – a best friend.  What struck me though is the clothing.  Hattori always has accessories that match those worn by Lucci.  Everyone knows that,, but have you considered what that means?  It means that every time Lucci purchased a new coat or suit, he would have to acquire a matching garment for Hattori.  This means that he either had a special tailor on call that would make him little coats and ties whenever he shopped, or Lucci had a sewing machine in his quarters and used his off time to design little bird clothes.  My head canon tells me that there was a sewing machine.  It also tells me that in every pocket of every suit or coat, Lucci had a neatly folded set for Hattori, so he wouldn’t miss the chance to coordinate.  It brings images to mind of Lucci stooped over a sewing machine, making him a new coat, while Hattori perches on his shoulder, making little bird commentary.  

[purpurred]

it becomes a running joke in Camelot that Merlin has magic, to the point that even Arthur is like "Merlin did this perfectly normal thing? probably sorcery". the undercurrent of "sounds fake, but okay" always accompanies these statements

but! people have taken the jokes up a notch, so now they ask Merlin stuff like "hey, magic-boy, can't you spell the silverware to be easier to polish? what a poor sorcerer you are"

and Merlin. being the chaotic dumbass he is (and slightly competetive). fucking does it (not where anyone can see, of course)

but still no one takes "Merlin is a sorcerer" seriously

what does happen is that a new theory arises: "Merlin clearly KNOWS a sorcerer"

which sends Arthur in a tailspin. 'cus on one hand: ILLEGAL, MERLIN. but on the other: it's Merlin, who wouldn't harm a fly. [pause where we all ugly-laugh] and the sorcerer he knows clearly isn't trying to make trouble if they go out of their way to improve working conditions for servants and peasants, so Arthur can maybe kinda sorta keep from acknowledging it directly

but now catch Arthur making none-too-subtle "sure would be a fortunate coincidence if a sorcerer spelled the armour stronger right after i say this, wouldn't it?" 'jokes' and theatrically winking like the loser he is

Merlin is in despair DESPAIR I TELL YOU

[useless-angsty-melon-deactivate]

HisoIllu drabble: “Like calls to like.”

“Sometimes I wonder how you tolerate me.” Hisoka remarked, as he swiped a makeup brush dusted with smoky eyeshadow across Illumi’s closed eyelid. 

“What do you mean?” Illumi cracked his other eye open - the one that Hisoka had already applied eyeshadow to - and gave the magician a curious stare. “I don’t mind letting you practice your makeup on me, I just don’t usually wear it of my own volition. Too much work.”

“I don’t mean makeup, darling. I can be a bit odd sometimes, or so I’m told. Why do you think so many people try to avoid me as much as humanely possible? Particularly younger people.” Hisoka’s lips twitched upward in something of an amused smirk. He tilted his head to one side, making sure the eyeshadow was evenly distributed across Illumi’s eyelid, before setting the palette he was holding aside and reaching for a tube of eyeliner. 

“Because you’re always trying to fight them. Either that, or you’re getting turned on by the prospect of fighting them later on in life, when they’re…” Illumi paused for a second, trying to think of the word Hisoka usually used to describe young people with potential. “…What is it you always say? Ripe?”

“Yes, ripe.” Hisoka licked his lips as an image of Gon flashed through his mind. “I can usually tell when little kids will grow up to be immensely powerful. The idea of getting to fight them when they are of age makes me very excited.”

“But by the time they grow up, you’ll be older and quite possibly weaker.” Illumi reasoned, folding his hands neatly in his lap and closing his eyes again so Hisoka could start applying the black eyeliner to the very bottom edge of his eyelids. 

“Weaker, you say? I highly doubt that. Take your grandfather Zeno for example. He’s very, very old. Ancient, dare I say. But he’s still outrageously strong. Strong enough to almost beat Chrollo in a fight.” the redheaded magician snickered, creating a perfect wing of eyeliner trailing off the edge of Illumi’s eye. “I imagine I will age the same way.”

“With the proper training, I’m sure you will.” the ravenet offered Hisoka a brief thumbs-up. “But anyway, I don’t tolerate you. I’m not sure what you’re talking about. There’s nothing to tolerate.”

“Hmm. I just thought you’d find some of my behaviors strange.” the magician shrugged before moving over to Illumi’s other eye. 

“If you’re strange, than I must be pretty strange too because I don’t see anything wrong with you.” Illumi folded his arms across his chest, wrinkling his nose ever so slightly like he did when he disapproved of something. “Like calls to like.”

Hisoka smiled and cupped Illumi’s porcelain-pale face between his hands, pulling the assassin in for a kiss. He was not surprised at all when Illumi batted him away, scolding him for initiating an action that might smear the makeup he’d worked so hard to apply. Hisoka’s grin only broadened at that. He loved Illumi for being such an impassive dork. 

However, getting the young Zoldyck to reciprocate Hisoka’s physical affection was a challenge in and of itself; one that Hisoka doubted he’d be able to solve any time soon. Illumi was only affectionate when he felt like it, and those occasions were few and far in between. 

“You should let me practice on you more often.” Hisoka remarked, deciding to change the subject. He doodled a little black heart just above Illumi’s high cheekbone, smiling proudly as he did. “Although your face is gorgeous enough by itself, you look especially cute like this.”

“I’m not cute.” Illumi immediately retorted. “But I suppose I’m okay with it. Like I said earlier, I really don’t mind, so long as you don’t expect me to step outside looking like this.”

“No, darling, never.” Hisoka chuckled, briefly distracted by the idea of Illumi wearing makeup in public. He was already capable of attracting every set of eyes in the room with his rare, natural beauty. Makeup would only succeed in giving him lots of unwanted attention. 

“What are you doing now?” Illumi asked, grimacing a little as Hisoka carefully drew a smaller heart next to the first one with the same eyeliner he’d been using for its intended purpose just a moment ago. 

“Just adding a finishing touch. Hold still.” Hisoka grasped Illumi’s chin lightly with one hand before the ravenet could even think about trying to wriggle away. “Remember that this is just practice, LuLu. I don’t actually think you need makeup because you’re perfect just the way you are.”

The tiniest hint of a delicate pink blush spread across Illumi’s pale cheeks. “Same to you.” 

-

Aiiiiiii I’m so sorry it’s been so long since I’ve posted one of these (or posted at all, for that matter)!!! School and mental health problems have been holding me back and keeping me extremely busy lately, and the end result was me being too exhausted to work on Tumblr posts. However, the batshit crazy stuff should be behind me now, so I can actually focus more attention on my blog and my writing in general from now on. Thank you for your patience, everyone! Take care of yourselves!

Sincerely, Melon