WOWIE THANK YOU SM FOR 100 FOLLOWERS!!! Ily Guys Smsm

WOWIE THANK YOU SM FOR 100 FOLLOWERS!!! ily guys smsm 😋😋

this is so denki kaminari coded.

i need help finding motivation for new things - mainly one shots. stranger things fandom PLEASE come in clutch and send requests my way. :p smut, angst, fluff WHATEVER. keep em comin. 😇

sorry for not posting a whole lot 😔 i’m trying guys trust me - lmk if you guys want more of these ! i can do other fandoms as well :33

sending the mha boy’s embarrassing photos of them

// dabi / bakugou / hawks

OH I HAVE GOT YOU FOR THE STEVE FIC BABY GIRL!!!

the car scene where it was reader in the front seat instead of Nancy!! and the reader is like way more supportive of his dreams and shit, idiots to lovers / besties to lovers am I right 🤩🤩

this is just the cutest, i enjoyed writing this! thanks for the request lovely, you’re adorable! 🩶🩶 also, i’m sorry for holding this off for so long and if this totally sucks and it’s not at all how you wanted it, i hope you enjoy it!

a comfortable silence fills the air - the only noise heard being the rumbling of the tires against the pavement, the occasional chit-chat in the trailer from behind and “fire and rain” by carole king and james taylor playing softly. “how’s it handle?” your voice breaks the silence first, though your eyes remain on the road ahead. “not half bad considering this is a house.” steve replies, sending a quick glance over to you before his eyes return to the road. you smile and nod your head, a soft “hmm” of acknowledgment leaving your lips. the corners of steve’s lips pull into a smile, his eyes shifting from the road to you a few times.

“yeah it’s… it’s silly, but i… i’ve actually um.. i always had this dream that i’d have this.. really big family.” your eyes trail over to look at steve as he speaks - his eyes remain on the road. “i’m talking like, uh, full brood of harringtons. like five.. six kids?” you almost laugh - amused by steve’s sudden confession. “six?” you blurt out, whipping your head to look at steve almost shocked. “yeah, six little nuggets. three girls, three boys..” steve trails off for a second, before he laughs. “and.. and every summer, i figured all of us harringtons we would pack into something like this and… just see the country. you know, the rockies, grand canyon.. maybe yellow stone. end up in some beachside town in california. spend a week parked in the sand.. learn how to surf or something..”

you smile, staring over at steve as he lays all this on you. you had no idea where this all came from, but you weren’t complaining.

“that sounds really nice.” you said after a few seconds and steve glances back over at you. “yeah?” his voice is tender when he speaks this time. “yeah…” there’s a long moment of just the two of you staring at each other with smiles, before you grin and look down into your lap. “well, except for the six kids part - that sounds like a total nightmare.” you say playfully, earning a chuckle from steve. in all honesty: it didn’t actually sound all that awful to you. you’d imagine with the right person, having so many kids would be nice. and the way steve described it, it gave you this warm feeling. especially after everything you steve and the other kids have been through.. thinking about having a big family in the future felt nice. didn’t seem so crazy to fantasize about the whole white picket fence, suburban neighborhood life - the whole package.

“if only i had some practice.” steve says, gesturing to the kids in the back, all too preoccupied in their own conversations. you nod your head and smile, lifting your hands in mock defense. “alright, fair. touché.” you say with a smile, and steve smiles right back at you. “that would be nice, though.. seriously, i mean.. settling down.” you started, looking down at your hands as you played with your finger tips. “it doesn’t sound like a nightmare.” you said, looking over at him to see he was already staring at you. all of a sudden something felt different about the way he was looking at you. it quickly crossed your mind what it would be like to spend the rest of your life with him. to have six kids and travel the world. it made you feel peaceful, and that feeling was refreshing.

after what felt like ages, steve finally looked back into the road ahead, and you did the same. you found yourself smiling so hard it was beginning to hurt your cheeks, but you didn’t care. you stared out the window and thought about everything steve had told you, listening to the soft rumble of the tires below. and for the first time in days you felt totally okay. you didn’t feel the pressure of what’s to come, to save the world. and you fantasized about the light at the end of the tunnel.

it was like the switch inside you that kept you anxious flicked off. and steve had flicked it off so easily.

I CANNOT BREATHE eddie is such a pervert this was so worth the wait 🎀🎀

CRUEL INTENTIONS - part two: penance

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: steddie x innocent/shy!reader

summary: you're a new student at All Saints Catholic Academy and Steve and Eddie have every intention to sink their teeth into you.

contains: enemies to lovers between steddie, blasphemy/religious talk, SMUT - 18+, mentions of smoking, corruption kink, mentions of subtle bullying, oral (m and f receiving), cum play, cheating (not on reader), exhibitionism (?), NON-CON/DUB-CON, and eddie being a scheming mf <3

word count: 8.3k

WARNING: this fic contains dark themes including - NON-CON/ DUB-CON, manipulation, coercion, and corruption. Again, THIS IS A DARK FIC, do not read it if you're not comfortable with it!

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| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

Confession was never your favorite part of your religious practice.

When you were a child, you wailed and begged your parents on the way to church not to make you go to confession. Your parents were rather patient, giving you reasons and explaining why it’s good to confess, and sooner than later, you would end up sitting in the confessional booth with a tear-clogged nose as you beg for forgiveness for stealing cookies from your grandmother's pantry.

As you grew older, confessions slowly lost their innocence. Stolen cookies turned into watching a rated-R movie. Rated-R movies turned into lewd and unrighteous dreams. Dreams turned into the temptations of lust— so many nights rutting up against your pillow with nothing but guilt brewing in your chest and heat swirling in your core. Admitting defeat to lust was something you never wanted to do again after the priest scolded you for the third time. That was something over two years ago. Now, you were back on track, firm in your faith and unwavering to the gnashing jaws of desire.

Until yesterday.

It was sinful, what you had let Eddie do to you. You could hardly sleep last night, tossing and turning with guilt as you replayed the events over and over in your mind— and it didn’t help with the man in question pressed to your back with an arm slung over your waist. Eddie insisted he stay the night in your dorm because Nancy would be staying with Steve, and you’re much too incapable of protecting yourself. Having Eddie sleep with you, although nervewracking and uncomfortable, was for your own good; Eddie had explained that since you’re friends now, it’s his responsibility to make sure you’re always safe because— “What if someone tries to break in and you’re all by yourself? A pretty little dumb thing like you wouldn’t even stand to defend yourself.” 

It made sense, so you agreed with wet eyes and a pounding heart. You’re thankful Eddie wants to protect you because, truth be told, you don’t know the first thing about self-defense. And Eddie didn’t leave the room once— not even when you changed into your pajamas. It was uncomfortable, the heated gaze of Eddie’s stare running over your body, but Eddie kept his hands to himself for the most part, allowing you to get dressed in peace. Sleep didn’t come easily, not with your racing heart and the burning heat of Eddie’s body pressed to yours.

You tossed and turned for a while, trying to be subtle about it so as not to disturb your new friend. Still, Eddie seemed to get irritated after the first few minutes when he grumbled and slung an arm over your waist, tightening his hold and pressing you closer to him— “I didn’t plan on fucking you tonight, but you’re making it very hard not to, princess.” He lowly grumbled. And it was then that you could feel that hard thing press against your lower back, the same thing you felt when you had been on his lap. You didn’t know what it was and were too afraid to ask, so you just shut your eyes and willed yourself to sleep.

In the middle of the night, you woke up to low grunts and moans coming from Eddie, quietly filling the room. You figured maybe Eddie was just having a bad dream.

When morning came, the spot beside you was empty, with no trace of Eddie. The guilt only intensified as the memories flooded in— and for some reason, your thighs were so sticky. Slick and wet, and you were embarrassed and disgusted as you realized you must’ve had one of those dreams again. It took so much strength to refrain from folding your spare pillow between your thighs, the smell of Eddie lingering on your sheets. 

The grimace on your face never left your face as you showered and sunk your hand between your legs, rinsing away the sticky and pearly white liquid with distaste settling in your chest.

Your mind was hazy all morning, full of shame and disgust with yourself as the ghost of Eddie’s hands seared prints of fire in your skin. You could barely sit still through mass, wriggling and fidgeting about before finally standing up and deciding to confess.

And the good thing about confession is that, usually, whenever you finish your penance and promise yourself you will do better, it feels as if a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. You felt lighter in every aspect and more hopeful to never let yourself travel the road of sin again.

And that feeling lasted for a while— the entire school day, really— until lunch came, and it all came crumbling down.

It’s your first-day having lunch here, so you linger and take a moment to find a seat before snagging an empty one next to a kind-looking girl with tight curls in her hair that smelled like peaches and cream when she flipped the curly locks over her shoulder. She was kind— well, not really, but you took whatever you could get, considering every other table was either full or looked like a battleground of messy trays and rowdy friend groups.

Your body begins to ease under the belief that you’re in the clear and free of Eddie for the day— but that relief is quickly squashed when you hear a low voice talking to the girl next to you, “Close up shop, I’m sitting here.”

You stiffen at the sound, body tight and rigid as you grapple at whatever dignity you have left to force yourself not to look at the man. Sadly, your restraint is slipping through your fingers like water, and the loud chatter booming in your ears only fuels your tugging urge to look up at him. Your body seems to betray you as well, heat licking up between your thighs at the memory of yesterday just as regret and disgust settle in your chest.

“Find another seat, asshole.” The girl snaps.

You busy yourself with your lunch in front of you, picking at different-sized grapes before tossing one in your mouth and trying to focus more on the sweet taste of the grape juice.

Eddie, ever the persistent man he is, leans a jeweled hand on the lunch table, silver rings clinking against the hard surface, and he levels down with the girl in a mocking manner, “Unless you want me to tell the dean about you fucking coach Adams in the storage rooms, I suggest you fuck off somewhere else, Nadine.” He lowly responds, voice dripping with provocation. It’s uncalled for, the way Eddie threatens her, but it seems to knick a nerve in the girl— precisely what Eddie had wanted. You watch, stunned and panicked, as the girl huffs and angrily packs her things up, a satisfied grin pulling at Eddie’s lips.

You don’t quite catch what the girl says as she walks off, but Eddie seems to pay no mind either way as he swings a leg over the table bench and settles in the newly opened seat next to you. Eddie smells more captivating than he did yesterday, but the scent only makes your insides twist sickeningly, and even if you want so badly to ignore him, Eddie doesn’t allow you to.

“Are you avoiding me, lamb?”

He’s turning to you with an arm leaning on the table, shifting closer to grab your full and undivided attention. You can’t find the words to answer, so you shake your head, no, your mind reeling as you try to maintain eye contact. But Eddie’s gaze is so intense. Like he can see right through you to your core, the rotten part of you that should never come to see the light of day. You shy away, looking back down to your meal to avoid the man beside you. Eddie, however, doesn’t let you hide for long before he hooks a finger in the clear tupperware box of your grapes and drags the box towards him, out of your reach.

“Hey–” “How come you sat somewhere else today then?” Eddie’s voice is calm and leveled, but his eyes say something else— danger and desire and that same kind of heat you saw when he parted your thighs and had his way with you. It sends a shiver down your spine and dotted skin skating up your arms. “I just…” You stammer with your words, your face heating in panic as you shrug, watching as Eddie tosses a grape in his mouth, “I just wanted to get a feel of the classroom.” You lie, eyes darting down to your grapes, fingers itching just to grab it and change seats. Eddie’s eyes narrow, sharp, brown gaze dissecting you like he can tell you’re nothing but a pile of lies.

“I’m sorry, I just… I didn’t know what else to do.” You softly say, watching as Eddie’s gaze softens. “The priest told me to stay away from you…” You mumble, nervous fingers fumbling with the hem of your skirt. Which is true. He told you Eddie was nothing but a helper of the dark, luring you into debaucherous places you have no right to be in. It upset you because not only should you have already known better, but Eddie was your friend. He was kind to you, and he didn’t participate in that mean prank Carol and Billy, and everyone else played on you— instead, he made you feel better, talked you down, and even got you a drink.

Eddie looks wounded by your words, and you immediately feel the guilt washing over you like an angry wave in a storm.

“Bunny, I thought we were friends.”

You frown then, shifting in your seat as you tense, “We are,” You stress, “But… I don’t think that was… appropriate, Eddie.” Your voice teeters on a whisper as you glance at the pretty man.

Eddie gazes at you before sighing, “Poor lamb,” He starts, reaching out a hand to push back at your hair as you frown, “You’ve never had a best friend, have you?”

Your frown deepens then, offense from Eddie’s words painted across your face as you respond, “What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask. Eddie sighs, somewhat dramatic as he shrugs, “Nothing, it’s just… well, if you’d have had a best friend before, then you would’ve known.” He teases. You frown, turning to him as you wonder aloud, “Known what? I’ve had best friends— I do have one.” You defend yourself.

Eddie ticks his tongue with a shake of his head, “I don’t know, bunny. If you had a best friend— a good one— you would’ve known that best friends do things like that all the time.” He explains.

Eddie’s words swirl in your head for a moment— good friend, best friend— Eddie is a good friend, maybe not a best friend yet, but that comes with time. “What do you mean?” You ask. Eddie hums with a shrug, “Well… good friends help their friends out, don’t they?” He asks.

You nod, obvious to the nature of what a good friend entails. “And yesterday you felt good, didn’t you?” 

Your cheeks grow warm from Eddie’s words, embarrassment flooding your chest as Eddie looks at you with that knowing gaze— like if you even try to lie to him, his gaze alone will set you ablaze. You can’t bring yourself to say it, so you nod instead, avoiding his gaze as you admit the truth.

Eddie hums, a gentle thumb brushing your chin as he says, “If I’m a good friend, and if you felt good— how can it be wrong?”

And… well, you never thought of it that way. What Eddie did yesterday felt good. He turned your body into a million fireworks and melted sun— and it’s not like Eddie would ever lead you astray, right?

“Good friends help each other feel good. And don’t we praise everything good?” Eddie reasons.

And oh, it makes so much sense. Everything Eddie is saying makes sense— and Eddie is so smart he would never tell you something untrue or wrong. Although a hinge of hesitancy lingers within you, relief is washing over you quicker than you can stop it, and you seem to relax under the conclusion of Eddie’s words. You nod, glancing at Eddie, “Y-yes.”

“Yes?” Eddie tips his head.

You take a slow breath, “You’re right. I’m sorry— I didn’t mean to paint you in a bad light, Eddie.” You frown at yourself and how you’d been treating your friend all day— avoiding him, saying mean things about him in your head, cursing him for making you do wrong when, in reality, he was just being a friend.

Eddie smiles, all pearly white teeth and hungry canines, “I’m always right, lamb.”

Now that Eddie has made it clear that he has nothing but good, friendly intentions, you find yourself lingering around him more often than not.

A week passes full of classes, early morning services, and studying, and the two of you become thicker than thieves. Eddie is silly and animated in nature; he tells jokes that make your sides hurt from laughing so much, and sometimes, when he stays the night because Nancy is with Steve, he will read to you in these voices that make you giggle yet eventually lure you to sleep.

And Eddie really is a good friend. He worries about your safety and never wants you to be alone so you can be a target for ‘hungry wolves,’ he says, because ‘wolves like the taste of lambs.’

Eddie says Billy is a wolf— he tells you about the awful things he’s seen him do, how he’s broken a man's arm in less than a blink of an eye, or how he puts out his cigarettes on the skin of his ‘enemies’— boy or girl. It’s terrifying, the things Eddie tells you about Billy and his group of friends, and it makes you cling to Eddie when you pass by the hungry stares of them.

One night, you ask Eddie if Steve is a wolf too— “Because he hurt you.”

Eddie, pretty features highlighted with the yellow light of your lamp, pauses for a moment— longer than it would usually take him to answer, before answering with a simple “No.”

You frown, turning to face Eddie, the skin of your cheek brushing against the soft cotton of Eddie’s shirt. “But Steve was mean to you, Eddie,” You argue.

Eddie takes a moment, long lashes kissing his cheek when he blinks before shifting, body heat searing through your thin pajamas, “He was looking out for you, wasn’t he? He stepped in when Billy was being an asshole, and he came to check on you after.”

You deflate in the realization that Eddie is right. Steve had only become defensive to protect you. To ensure you were okay after you’d been embarrassed in front of the entire party. And you didn’t even ask. Steve is just kind enough to go out of his way and do it without you needing to ask.

And you repaid him by being rude to him all week.

You ignored his greetings in passing, huffed, and turned back to your work whenever he came to hang out with Nancy— goodness; you even rolled your eyes at him when he asked if you needed help carrying your heavy laundry basket.

Eddie seems to notice your eerie silence, gently squeezing your shoulder as he asks, “What’s wrong?”

And his voice is so soft, so comforting and gentle that it makes you frown as you turn against him. “I… I feel bad,” You softly say, “I’ve been mean to him…”

Eddie goes silent momentarily before clearing his throat, “Why?”

“Because I thought he was being mean to you, and you’re my friend, Eddie, and he hurt you!” You exclaim as your frown deepens. Eddie hums, “Well, you know what you have to do now, right?” He asks.

And well, obviously, the right thing to do would be to apologize. A quick sorry to fix the damage you’ve done should turn you back onto the right page with him, so, “Say sorry.”

Eddie purses his lips, hips shifting with a short hum, “No, that won’t do,” He says, and you frown, “You have to let him know how sorry you are— and you’re really, really sorry, aren’t you?” He asks. You blink up at him, nodding with a frown, and Eddie drags in a breath as he brushes a thumb across your temple, sending butterflies down to your gut.

“But,” Your face twists in worry, “How?”

Eddie has you resting between his thighs, your legs neatly folded beneath you with your hands placed in your lap. He’s looking at you with this gaze that makes your cheeks warm as he settles against the headboard of your bed.

He beckons you closer with a gesture of his hand, smiling when you press up on your knees, resting a hand on his thigh as you wriggle closer. “Have you ever made someone else feel good, bunny?” He asks.

You blink, wide eyes seared into his brown eyes, “Um… Well, sometimes I bring cookies to the nursing home,, and I think… well,, I’d like to think it makes them feel good and cared for.”

Eddie raises an amused eyebrow, lips twitching in a smile as he gently thumbs at your lip, “You’re precious,” He says, “But no.” Eddie fails to suppress his smile any longer when you frown.

“Like how I made you feel good at the party,” Eddie explains.

Your eyes widen then, tummy swirling with heat at the memory. You shake your head, mouth suddenly dry from Eddie’s words, and Eddie hums, “Never?”

You shake your head again, and Eddie replies, “Well, there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?”

You breathe in, shying away as Eddie rests a hand over his crotch, “I-I don’t know, Eddie—” “Didn’t I tell you it’s okay to do this?”

His voice is firm and sharp, and you nod, “Yes, but—” “Would I ever lie to you?”

Would he? Eddie hasn’t lied thus far; why would he lie now?

You shake your head no, pressing further into him, and he lifts an eyebrow, “I—” You shy away, glancing away from his gaze, “Will you show me? How to…” You ask. Eddie smiles, soft and kind, and he settles into the headboard, palming his crotch as your breath hitches. “Touch me.” He orders.

You gaze at him, confused by his words, clenching your fingertips into his thigh, “I… I am.”

Your cheeks burn when he gazes at you, eyes holding this glare like what you’ve just said is stupid. He drags a hand down his thigh, fingers looping around your wrist and gently guiding you up, up, up until your palm is covering the tent in his jeans. Your eyes, wide and blown, fall to where he guides you, heart racing as he presses your hand into his crotch, massaging in a way. 

“You feel that?” He softly asks. You swallow, nodding because you can’t find the words. “That’s my cock,” He says. Your gaze jumps to his, breathing beginning to quicken when he tips his hips up into your touch. “You wanna see it?” He asks.

Your nod is more eager than you’d like it to be, but you can’t deny the excitement pooling between your thighs.

“Say it.”

Your face twitches in defiance, your body growing hotter by the second as the words tumble around the walls of your brain. “I can’t—” “Say it, bunny. Say you want to see my cock.”

You squirm, thighs pressing together as a whine dances in the back of your throat, conflict spinning within your chest. “I…” Eddie raises an eyebrow at your hesitance, and you breathe, “Can I see your… cock?” Your voice is shaky, and it’s embarrassing and you expect Eddie to take it for what it is, but he shakes his head, reaching out and pulling you closer by the jaw until your lips brush against his.

You whimper, fingers grasping his covered length. “No,” He says, lips twitching when you frown, “Say ‘I want to see your cock’.”

You whimper, louder and needier this time, and you think you feel a twitch beneath your hand, and your mind is beginning to feel foggy. Light and airy, like it does when you stand up too quickly on an empty stomach. “I want to see your cock.” You softly say, barely above a whisper, but Eddie can hear it— he can practically taste it with your mouth so close like this.

Eddie nods, humming in approval before digging his fingertip into your cheeks, pulling you forward the last inch to make your lips meet. His grip is so tight you can feel the bruises already budding, but he’s pressing his hips against your palm, and you’re spilling out more and more into your panties, and you feel filthy.

“Get me out, lamb.”

Truthfully, you don’t understand what he’s telling you to do, but it’s like your body reacts on second nature when your shaky fingers travel up to his belt, cool metal searing your tips as you fuss with it. You frown when his belt refuses to budge, intricate closure making you out to be dumb until you have no choice but to tell Eddie, “I can’t… can’t open it.”

Eddie huffs a soft and light laugh, before he brushes your hands away, “Cute little lamb. Can hardly do anything yourself, can you?”

Your skin is hot to the touch, embarrassment, and desire searing through your veins— and you can’t shake that guilty feeling ebbing at the back of your head that this is still wrong despite what Eddie has told you, but you think you want it either way. Think you want to make Eddie feel good. Think you want to make him feel like a million fireworks bursting within him. Think you want him to be proud of you and praise you for being good and following his instructions even if you’re already messing up on the first step.

You’re not sure; your brain is so muddled.

Eddie gets his belt open and does the work to pop his button as well, the zipper falling open with a quick tug. He sinks a hand beneath his jeans, softly breathing upon contact before shoving his jeans down just a bit until he reveals himself.

Your eyes grow wide, wider than before if that was possible, and you watch in silence as he wraps a hand around himself, dragging it up to the tip until a shiny pearl of liquid dribbles out from the glistening slit. 

“Look at that; I’m already leaking for you, bunny.” He hums. You breathe, whiny and interested, as he runs his thumb over the tip, catching the substance before it falls. He lifts his hand, gaze never leaving you, tipping his head as he pulls you close again, “Open your mouth.”

You do so on command, parting your lips as Eddie’s other hand continues to stroke himself, “Stick your tongue out; show me your pretty throat, baby.”

It’s humiliating. Sitting in front of Eddie with your mouth open and sticking out your tongue like a dog awaiting treats from their owner, but it makes your insides twist, and you’re not sure why, but you love the way Eddie hums in approval, lips quirked up into a smile. It’s beautiful.

The pad of his thumb is rough against the smooth muscle of your tongue, and the taste of him is faint as it melts into your spit— “Suck it, bunny.”

Your lips close around his knuckle, gently suckling his thumb clean of his excitement, and your nails dig into his thigh, squirming against your folded legs as the slicking sound of Eddie touching himself fills your ears.

“Look at that,” Eddie marvels, cooing as your eyes flutter, “You’re a natural, little lamb. Your pretty little lips were just made to be wrapped around a cock, weren’t they?”

You hardly register what he’s saying, but you nod either way, humming around his digit. He slips from your mouth, dragging his thumb down to smear your spit across your chin before he cups your face, “I want you to bend down and sink your lips around my cock and do what you just did to my thumb, okay?”

You nod, although reluctant to do what he’s asking, but you know it’s less of a request and more of a demand. You shuffle down the bed until there’s enough space for you and lean down and level yourself with the sinful sight of Eddie, hard and leaking, as he holds himself by the base.

Your gaze flutters up to him, a flash of hesitance dancing across your face, but Eddie is soft and firm when he glides his hand into yours, fingers threading yours and gently squeezing. His other hand holds himself at the base, holding himself to stand tall and proud before you.

You’re hesitant with the first lick, nervous yet curious as your tongue glides over the pink tip of his cock. He coats your tongue with a heady taste, salty yet subtle, and the hum that rumbles from his chest makes your head spin. You give him a few licks, adjusting to the taste before you remember the task you were given.

Taking one steady breath, you loop your hand around him, right above his hand, and you sink your lips around his tip. He’s wide, uncomfortable with how your mouth and jaw stretch around him, and the feeling of him dragging on your tongue is strange.

Eddie pants above you, cursing beneath his breath, “Take a little more, bunny.” He says. And you try, you try your hardest, shoving your face lower onto his leaking cock, but you hardly get halfway down before you gag around the tip. You pull off on instinct, coughing and sputtering, and Eddie coos. You had been drooling and slobbering all down the length of him, so Eddie’s hand is slimy and wet when he reaches out to cup your face. You whine and grimace at the feeling, turning away only for him to hold your jaw and snicker at your response.

“Poor baby’s throat is still tight, huh?” He coos.

You whine, frowning as he gently forces you to nod before sinking two fingers into your mouth. You’re more compliant this time around, maybe even eager to have his fingers in your mouth, but last time he had been gentle and kind, whereas this time, he is prodding and fierce. His calloused fingertips pet at the back of your tongue, and your eyes water, a gag threatening to come up as he hums, “Gotta train this pretty throat of yours, don’t we?”

He doesn’t go any further, but his fingertips press down against your tongue until your jaw opens wide for him. He hums, the slick sound of his fist around his cock echoing as you gaze up at him with wide eyes, throat bare and open to him. “Don’t worry, bunny, just a few rounds and this cute mouth of yours will be a cock sucking pro, okay?” 

You nod at his words, gagging when he brushes against the very back of your throat before pulling back. He removes his fingers from your mouth, but you don’t go long with a break before he’s leaning forward and smashing his lips against yours. And you don’t like it when Eddie kisses you. It’s sloppy and wet, and it hurts because he likes to bite, but you can’t stop the swirl of heat that rises in your tummy when his tongue drags against every crevice of your mouth.

He pecks your lips one last time, wet and sticky, dragging his thumb against your bottom lip before giving you a quick order, “Get back to work, honey.”

He’s gentle with his hands, cupping your face as you shuffle down to bring your lips around his tip. Although the taste is still unique, to say the least, you think you’re more comfortable this time around. You take him down, letting him slide through the wet skin of your mouth, pulsing veins gliding against the thick of your tongue. It makes your core stir with heat, familiar and slightly unwelcome under the remembrance of purity. He’s softly breathing, mumbling little praises to coax you further down the length of him. You don’t make it very far before he hits the back of your throat, and you can’t hold back the gag that erupts from you. You pull away abruptly and upset, watery eyes and a spit-soaked frown as you blink at him, “It’s too big, Eddie,” you whine.

Eddie huffs out a small laugh, hands in your hair curling at the root before pushing you back down, “Just take what you can bunny.” 

He doesn’t push you, but his actions tell you that he doesn’t care to hear your complaints, and you are now thoroughly focused on nothing but bringing Eddie satisfaction.

You do your best with your eager nature to please and the gentle guidance from Eddie—  ‘Take it like a popsicle, sweet lamb.’ and ‘Less teeth, bunny.’ and ‘Good girl, you’re hungry for it, aren’t you.’

An uncomfortable ache rises in your jaw not long into it, but Eddie is making these noises that send millions of butterflies flocking to your core, and you figure by the labored breaths and the mumbled curses falling from his lips that he must be feeling what you did that night at the party. That burst of white-hot rush. The big crash.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he pants, “So warm and wet— fuck.” He cups your jaw, grip firm, and gaze demanding as he tells you, “It’s gonna be a lot, but you’re gonna take it, okay.”

Not a question but a command.

And you have no choice but to do your best at nodding and continuing your task. And you’re not sure what Eddie is talking about. You don’t know what this abundance of something is, and anxiety swirls in your gut, but not for long— because once the warmth fills your mouth, it never stops. It’s warm and bittersweet, and he floods your senses like a storm until you can do nothing but pull away with a choking cough.

Sticky white drips from your mouth, smearing over your chin and pooling onto Eddie’s throbbing cock where he’s now wrapped a hand around himself, knuckles glistening with the mess you’ve created. He’s cooing at you, calling you cute names, and rubbing a thumb over your throat, “Poor baby. Can hardly take a single thing in your pretty throat.”

It stings, and it’s nearly intolerable with the burn in your lungs, but Eddie looks so proud through the fog of your tears that you can do nothing but nuzzle against his palm and preen. “M’sorry,” you mumble, “Was so much…”

Eddie coos, pets your hair back gently as he gazes at you, “That’s okay, honey,” he assures, “But you need to clean your mess, okay?”

And, well, you figure that’s the least you can do. You nod, moving to raise on shaky limbs, but Eddie holds you still and shakes his head, “A good lamb finishes their meal. Can’t let a single drop go to waste, right?”

And you’re so tired, eyelids heavy and low with the exhaustion of the day and your efforts; you can hardly find it in yourself to protest. And well, the taste isn’t so bad, you think. Eddie’s skin is hot and salty beneath your tongue as you lick every inch of him that had fallen victim to your lack of training. Your heavy eyes don’t stay open, but Eddie directs you, helps you find your way as you clean your mess, and you settle down between his thighs when he slips his knuckles into your mouth. You lave your tongue over every inch, sleepy bones sinking deeper by the second, cheek pressed to the naked skin of Eddie’s hips. He doesn’t disturb you, only lets you suckle on his fingers as you finish cleaning, and you mumble another sorry, to which he says nothing, but you feel him slip from you just before sleep finally takes you under.

And in your dreams, you float in Eddie-scented rivers and sun.

Your big doe eyes and pouty lips will be the death of Eddie.

He’s been patient so far— so patient and steady with carving his spot next to you, and he can’t lose it now. That night in the restroom at the party was almost a fuck up. He nearly lost his grip then and claimed you as his own— would’ve fucked you raw right there on the bathroom floor and kept you for himself if he didn’t know any better, but he does. He knows better, and he knows that fragile things like you need time.

You’re easy to bend. He’s spent all week warming you to a malleable point, and last night was the first lesson, testing the water to see just how far Eddie could push you without you batting an eye— far enough. And now, as you sit beside him squirming, he can honestly admit that this is much more fun than he had anticipated.

You’re watching the rugby team file out of the locker room, waiting for the last of them to leave. As team captain, Steve is burdened with the task of ensuring the locker room is nice and clean after each practice, making it the perfect time for Eddie to send you in: no Nancy Wheeler and no prying eyes (apart from his own). 

You’re not all too excited to apologize to Stevie. More nervous than anything. And you can’t stop fucking moving until Eddie pinches your thigh and gives a quick order, “Get ready to go in, bunny.”

You frowned, wide eyes glancing at Eddie, “What if someone else is in there?” You stressed.

And you’re a cute little thing. Knee-high socks, freshly pressed uniform skirt, nervous hands tugging at the pleats as you scurry into the locker room like a nervous puppy sent to a cage. The slam of the door echoes, and Eddie’s left finishing off his cigarette, imagining how much of a fool you’re making out of yourself, asking to get on your knees for Steve Harrington— how cute.

And even though Eddie’s practically handed you over like a pretty wrapped gift, Eddie’s not stupid. Eddie knows Steve because he’s studied him, and he knows that Steve will not have the patience to wait for what can be his, and those calloused hands of his will roam. Skin will be touched, gripped, licked— the whole nine. Because, unlike Eddie, his boy is impatient. His boy is a short fuse waiting to blow— a hungry wolf waiting to rip his sweet lamb to shreds. And because Eddie knows Steve so well, he’s left a present for him.

It’s nothing extreme, nothing terrible, but something to remind him that— for now— you are Eddie’s. You are Eddie’s craft, and he is still perfecting it. He can’t have impatient jocks screwing with his process, and Steve is not above that line. 

You weren’t too happy while Eddie prepared the gift. Squirmy little thing you are. Squirmy and fucking whiney— Eddie almost gagged you, if he’s being honest. You frown when you don’t want to do something, but you’re easy to bribe— Eddie’s got a long list of candy to buy— and you were shy while lifting your skirt and peeling open the front of your panties. You whimpered when Eddie jerked himself off into them, and Eddie almost fucked you then— hates himself for giving Steve that dumbass promise. And you complained about the squishy wet feeling of Eddie’s cum in your panties, but Eddie promised he’d make it all better, but only until after you apologized to Steve.

It’s been fifteen minutes since Eddie sent his lamb into the lion's den. Kissed your forehead and wished you the best— even told you to cant his tip to the side of your cheek when you think he’s going to cum so you don’t hack up a lung on the rugby locker room floor— and you nodded all wide-eyed and pretty and thought of just taking you for himself right then and there. Whisk you away to some lonely tower and keep you full of him all year long. But he had to stay true to his plan.

His cigarette is done, and he’s getting impatient, so he tosses the bud and slinks his way into the locker room. He lets the door shut quietly, careful not to disturb the lion and the lamb, and he can hear a quiet hum of a voice, deeper toned— Steve. Eddie is calculated and quiet as he creeps into the room, settling behind a row of lockers that give him the perfect view of you on your knees. Picture fucking perfect. 

Didn’t take much for Steve to fold; that much is clear. But Eddie doesn’t blame him. Who can keep a steady balance when it comes to you?

Steve’s shirt is off and thrown over his shoulder, a pink flush dancing up his chest, curling around his neck and cheeks. He’s sitting on a bench, sweaty back pressed against the cool metal of a locker, eyes fluttering shut as you take him down your throat. He curses, fingers cupping your head as he loses the last tails of his composure and thrusts into your mouth. Eddie knew this would happen. Knew Steve wouldn’t be able to hold back. And you’re shocked.

You whine, shifting to pull away, but his grip doesn’t allow you. Your grip is tight on Steve’s shorts, grappling and tugging in a sense of surrender, and Steve doesn’t take it. Eddie is stone-faced, not a single wave of emotion waving over his face as he watches Steve obliterate your poor little throat. Eddie would’ve done that last night. He wanted to. But you’re too sweet. Too soft. You’ll crack at the edges, and if Eddie is the creator of the cracks, you won’t return to him.

He lets Steve destroy you, lets him defile you for all you are, lets him mumble curses that you hate to hear. And when Steve’s eyes meet Eddie’s, he can’t hold back the twist in his gut or the way his jeans tighten.

Steve is so beautiful. He’s devastating and glistening under the shitty lights of the locker room, and he’s boiling beneath the work of your tongue. There’s a flash of confusion that dashes through Steve’s expression: confusion and distaste. Doesn’t want Eddie here. Doesn’t like that Eddie’s palming himself, touching himself. But Steve can hardly stop himself from watching the way Eddie rolls his hips into his touch, and he can’t even hold the moan that slips from his lips. Eddie smirks at that. Thinks it’s cute how Steve tries to act like Eddie isn’t affecting him. Steve looks away, moans all breathy and hot, “Gonna cum.”

If Steve is beautiful in the buildup, then there’s no explanation for how he looks at the fall. He’s otherworldly, and he sounds like heaven and hell colliding to create this deafening glorious sound, and he looks like a fucking painting. You’re more of a mess than you were last night— and even though Eddie can’t see it, he can hear it. Can hear the sniffle and coughing, the whimpers and whining, and you flinch when Steve reaches out to wipe your face. Eddie stands then, wanting to give you two space to have each other— because, despite the intimacy you’d just displayed, the comedown is the most essential part. And although Steve seems like a total meathead, Eddie has an inkling that King Steve is an all-time pro when it comes to aftercare, so Eddie is not too worried about leaving. 

Steve catches Eddie’s eye just before the older boy steps out, and Eddie just can’t help the smirk that graces his lips, dropping a quick wink before opening the door and walking out.

Since you and Steve are on good terms, Steve makes it a point to always look after you.

He’s a good friend, you learn. He reminds you which homework is due the next day, returns your library books for you, and lends you a pencil whenever you need it— because, come to find out, you share the same biology lecture. Steve even cleans you up when Eddie makes your thighs all sticky with his white cream.

You didn’t know what he was doing the first time he did it— after you apologized in the locker room. You were on your way out when he stopped you and told you to bend over. And you weren’t sure why Steve was asking this of you until you felt the warm trickle of Eddie’s cum dripping down the inside of your thigh. It was embarrassing, and you couldn’t think of anything to do other than shy away and press your thighs together, but Steve was gentle and soft as he laid a hand on your arm, “It’s okay, sweetheart. Just wanna help, that’s all.”

You were scared when he led you to take a seat on the bench, heart racing and worry swirling in your chest as Steve shuffled out of view only to return with a towel. He settled on his knees before you and parted your thighs, and you whined and tried to close them, but he cooed and told you he’d be quick. Gentle sweeps of the cotton towel across your sticky lips made your thighs quake, and your nails left dents in the wood of the bench, but Steve was kind through it all. He gently cooed and told you that you were pretty and held it so well— whatever that means.

When he finished, you thanked him, but he kept your thighs parted. You whimpered and cried out when he touched you, and you wanted to run away when he let his tongue flick over the entirety of your now clean center, but once Steve told you that this was okay— that he and Eddie had talked— you relaxed and fell into the blissful drags of his tongue.

It was otherworldly, the feeling Steve brought to you with his mouth. You could feel it for hours. White-hot licks of fire up your thighs and lower back. Steve’s rough fingers pressed into the warm, thick skin of your thighs. The cool metal of the lockers digging into your back. The humid and sweat-stained air filling your lungs with each gasp. You could feel Steve’s hair threading through your fingers for days, and each time you saw him, it was all you saw— him on his knees, between your thighs, licking you and telling you to ride his face. So dirty. It was debauchery! Terrible sins, each and every second— but it was so good.

You couldn’t look Eddie in the eye after. Guilt and shame riddled your every bone, knowing you had done more than what you told Eddie you would do— and for some reason, you just could not shake that feeling in the depths of your gut that something here was not right. 

You want to ask someone, just to be sure, but each time you bring it up to Eddie, he tells you you’re being silly and to let it go. 

“Nancy, I have a question…”

Your roommate is on the other side of the room, lying on her stomach and nose-deep in her studies, as you had both planned to be for the night. She glances your way and hums in indication. You shuffle, sitting up on your bed to cross your legs beneath you. “Well,” you sigh, “I was just wondering, is it normal to feel guilty after doing… things?” You can’t muster the strength to say the word, so the last part comes out as a whisper. Focused on her studies and having not fully understood the meaning of your question, Nancy, hums, “What things, hun?”

You clear your throat, shuffling on your bed as you grow uncomfortably hot. “Um— you know, like… things. With a-a boy?”

Nancy freezes then, writing coming to an abrupt halt before her gaze snaps over to you. “What do you mean?” Her eyes narrow with furrowed eyebrows, “Like… sex?” She hisses.

You quickly shake your head, eyes wide and heart racing as Nancy sits up to face you from across the room, “N-no! At least… no, I don’t think it is…” You mumble, suddenly realizing that the lines between intercourse and whatever isn’t intercourse have become intensely blurred these past few weeks.

Nancy gasps, her jaw dropping as she scrambles across the room to climb onto your bed, settling across from you in a crossed-leg position as well. “You’re sleeping with someone? Who? Oh my god, where? When?” Nancy’s questions are rapid and frantic, and you hardly have a chance even to grasp them, so you just shake your head. “No? You’re not sleeping with someone?”

“No. Well, I think I am. I’m not sure.” You frown, panic settling as Nancy’s face twists into further confusion, “Would you consider it sex if there was no… penetration?” You cringe at the word, and Nancy giggles. “What, like, he ate you out?”

You don’t know what that means, and you gaze in confusion for a few seconds before the pieces click in your head that the saying explains what Steve had done to you some days ago. “Yes. And I’ve also used my mouth on him before. Although I don’t think I liked having an achy jaw after very much…” You frown.

Nancy could not look more stunned, looking at you as if you’ve just told her a top secret of the government, “Who is this guy? You have to tell me.” She begs, shuffling forward with interest. You open your mouth, about to tell her before you pause and wave dismissively, “Nancy, that’s not what this is about!” You stress.

“Sorry, sorry— uh— what was your question again?”

You sigh, grabbing your pillow to clutch to your chest, sticking a finger between your teeth to anxiously pick at dead skin from your cuticles. “Is it normal to feel so guilty?” You ask. “I— I know it’s not a sin, but I still feel… weird.” You frown.

Nancy hums, “Well, sometimes it just takes time to shake the religious bullshit mindset, you know? I mean… I don’t know, I felt a little guilty my first time with Steve,” She shrugs— and you’re not sure why, but your stomach twists with a dark feeling. “But sex feels too good to be ashamed about it. At least for me, it does.” 

And suddenly, the feeling of guilt triples in size— the monster beneath your bed grows and is brewing with the truth of what you and Steve had done in the locker room. The realization that you had done something you shouldn’t have with your roommate’s boyfriend.

Eddie’s dorm is not exactly what you had expected.

You're not sure how Eddie has gotten away with most of the things he has in here. There’s a toaster on his desk, and beside his bed, there’s a tall and wide black thing that Eddie said was an AMP for his guitar— “She’s loud enough to wake up this entire campus.” And judging by how big it is, you don’t doubt that it truly could ring through the entirety of All Saints.

It’s your first time in his dorm room, and you struggle to keep your hands to yourself and not touch everything, but luckily, Eddie doesn’t seem annoyed each time you pick something up and ask him what it is— although he did snatch away a little tin box you had found and told you to never touch it again. You’re not sure what that was about, but you wouldn’t dare push your luck.

“Take a seat, bunny. We’re gonna watch a movie.” Eddie grins, tossing a remote in his hand. You’re not sure how Eddie has a TV either, but you realize that Eddie just has a way of getting things to work in his favor. Admittedly, it is impressive. 

You settle on his bed, socked feet wriggling in the messy sheets as Eddie slips in a tape, “Is this the surprise? What movie? I don’t like horror, Eddie…” 

Eddie turns to you, a soft smile on his face, “It’s not a horror, bunny. And yes, this is the surprise. Now, before I press play, I want to make one thing clear,” He holds a finger up and you nod, “No talking from you for the entire film. Okay?”

You don’t know the extent of what Eddie is asking, so it’s easy to nod and promise to follow his rules. Eddie hums and gently pats your head, and suddenly, as if on cue, there’s a soft knock on the door. With a rather mischievous smile, Eddie winks at you and tells you to sit tight. You don’t think much of it and busy yourself with the movie's opening credits. It seems low budget compared to the movies you’ve seen, but you’re not one to judge.

The opening scene comes, and your low-budget suspicions are confirmed when the dialogue comes out sloppy and somewhat awkward. Despite this, though, you find yourself intrigued; you’ve never seen these actors before. However, before the film can progress, Eddie is stepping back into the room, but this time with someone else in tow— a rather familiar face, Steve.

Eddie makes his way to sit beside you as Steve shuts the door behind him, clicking the lock and looking at you with his forever-kind eyes.

With the turning events on the TV screen, the sly wink that Steve sends your way, and the firm squeeze Eddie gives your thigh, you begin to realize— this is not a regular movie, and you are caught in their trap.

part three.

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a/n: HELLOOOO, this has been brewing for a while and i am so sorry for the wait BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! if you have made it this far, thank u so much for reading, any and all feedback is appreciated and loved. as always, thank u and i love you always!!