Blood Flow
Kinktober Prompt: Choking
Relationship: dbf!Joel Miller x Reader
Content: [i was going for something sensual and i failed.] Explicit sexual scenes, fingering, choking, squirting, praise kink, Joel’s kinda rough, teasing. No outbreak AU.
Summary: You curiously tread into the realm of choking, but you have no clue why people think it feels ‘good’. With Joel’s help, you realize that there’s simply a right way to do it.
A/N: pay attention to the last line. it implies exactly what you think it does.
**ALSO! part 3 for this is out, it’s called Daddy’s Girl!
this scene is so weird, why is he choking her???
Your fingers flitted across your phone screen, texting as you watch a new show. In this scene, the two main characters finally broke their tension, and things were growing heavy. You watched the actor’s hand wrap around his costar’s throat, watching how her face contorted in bliss.
Cause it feels good, sweetheart, Joel replied.
Bringing your own hand to your neck, you pressed against your windpipe and choked, like really choked, but it didn’t feel like you thought it would. And your face definitely did not make those same expressions as the woman in the show.
Clearing your throat, you replied to Joel. A few years ago, this kind of conversation would earn you an intervention with your parents. This was your dad’s best friend, and you shouldn’t be texting him about being choked, of all things.
But fuck, was texting Joel a wonderful time.
A single message could have you squeezing your thighs together. Every baby girl, sweetheart, and honey was imagined in his voice as if he were there, whispering them into your ear. You would imagine his fingers dancing across your skin as he showered you with those sweet pet names.
tried it on myself, and i can confirm that it feels awful. coughing my lungs out right now
Joel read your text and let out a hearty chuckle, quickly replying back. He knew you were a tad… inexperienced with things like this, and that you wouldn’t ask just anyone about this. He had you wrapped around his finger, as you did him.
Baby doll, you’re probably pressing on your windpipe. It’s a little tricky to do it on yourself
You groaned at the text, still frustrated at your little mishap. The reply you gave him was rather bold, but you anxiously sent it anyway.
maybe you could show me
The two of you had flirted a lot more since you came back home from college. Four years of hard schoolwork had you taking a break back home with your parents to choose your next big step in life. At first it started small - little compliments on your clothes, on your intelligence, on how much you’d come into your own. Your glances at Joel lasted too long to be friendly, and it didn’t help when you ran your foot along his leg under the table at big family dinners.
In short, you were driving each other absolutely wild, pulling the tension taught between you, waiting for it to snap.
But Joel wanted to go slow. This was dangerous territory, and he needed to take his time.
Maybe I could
You stared blankly at the phone screen, reading over the message with a fluttering heart behind your ribs. A wave of warmth spread over you with a beeline between your thighs. You clenched your legs together as you texted Joel back.
right now?
J: Door’s unlocked, I’m just watching TV. If you want to join me we can watch that show you were telling me about
Like an alarm went off you shot out of bed, hurrying to your dresser and closet to find a more impressive outfit. Joel wouldn’t care all that much - he liked seeing you in anything. It didn’t matter how much or little you had on, you were always beautiful to him.
headed out now!
Joel have a swift reply that buzzed in your pocket.
Someone’s eager.
You trekked over to the neighborhood next to yours, practically skipping with each step up to Joel’s house. Thankfully, his daughter, Sarah, would be at a friend’s house this evening, leaving you and Joel all to yourselves.
Joel’s head perked up when he heard you knock. He, almost too excitedly, shot up from the couch and headed to the front door.
He was an effortlessly handsome man. And now, in a simple pair of sweatpants and v-neck shirt, he looked more stunning than ever. For you, it also didn’t matter what he wore - he always looked handsome.
“Hi,” you said, offering him a small smile.
Joel raised an arm and leaned against the doorframe. His lean muscles shifted under his tan skin, hardened by those years under the Texas sun, and caught the light from inside to accentuate his bicep. He caught you ogling, and laughed.
“Sweetheart, I’m not just eye candy,” Joel’s voice was soft after the long day he had, “You comin’ in, or what?”
Your smile widened as you stepped in, dipping under Joel’s arm to step in the living room. He had already closed the blinds preemptively to shield yourselves from any prying eyes. You sat on the couch and waited for Joel to join you.
He slowly made his way over, “So, what show were you watchin’?”
You sighed dramatically, “Well, now it’s just embarrassing. We can watch something else, instead.”
Joel shook his head at your offer, gesturing to the TV, “Not embarrassing at all. ‘Sides, I got a plan for it.”
He snatched the remote from the arm of the couch and chose a spot right next to you. After a series of questions, you began to play the show you’d seen, found the right episode, and played the scene in question.
Joel remained silent the entire time, glancing between you and the TV. His stare bore into you, but it was unclear as to what was going through his mind.
But the scene, to your relief, ended, and the shyness you’d felt could be over. Joel paused the show in the middle of the next scene and finally met your eyes.
“Alright, I think I know where ya went wrong,” he commented. You cocked an eyebrow at him.
“It’s all about controlling the blood flow, not pressin’ on the windpipe. That’s a one way ticket to the man upstairs,” Joel laughed and brought his hand to your cheek, cupping your face carefully. His thumb passed over your cheekbone before he shifted down toward your neck.
He placed his thumb and index finger on either side of your throat, right under your jaw. The pressure was uncomfortable at first, pressing into you in a way that sparked some faint nausea. You cleared your throat and swallowed to dull the feeling.
“Pressin’ here,” his grip tightened, “reduces the blood flow. It’s still a lil’ hard to breathe, but it doesn’t risk your safety.”
A lightness began to creep through you as Joel pressed into your throat. Blackness clouded the edge of your vision, blurring Joel’s features, though you could barely make out a lazy smile.
After a few long seconds, he let go, and you could freely breathe once again. The rush of blood back to your brain throbbed at your temples, though the brief headache was nothing compared to the rush of pleasure it delivered.
To your surprise, the rush went straight to your core, leaving you shifting your legs together.
Joel leaned forward and planted a kiss on your cheek, his voice was a low whisper.
“See? Feels good when someone does it right, don’t it?”
You nodded, still held securely by his hand around your throat. His lips traveled across your face, to your temples, to your jaw, and finally finding your own, flush and fluid with your own movements. Joel tightened his grip again, and the same rush came flowing through. It was tricky to keep kissing Joel at the pace he set. Instead, your mouth slacked open as a moan escaped you, swallowed eagerly by Joel.
He spoke slowly against your lips, nipping at them between his words.
“How is it, baby doll? Still feel good?”
It was wonderful. Had you not messaged him about this, you would’ve been completely in the dark about this whole new world of pleasure. So wonderful, in fact, that you could feel a new slickness in your sex, about to soak into your panties. Instinctively you ground your hips, pathetically pressing your aching pussy into nothing substantial.
Joel moved his other hand lower, raking over your shifting thighs, “Tell me, sweet girl, does it make you feel good down here?”
His hand cupped your clothed sex, pressing against your slit and slowly massaging your core. Your breath trembled as you gave him another nod - a small sign of permission to take things further.
“Joel… Joel,” you whispered, fighting against his grip on your throat. Amidst the rush going through your head you could barely hold onto what he was saying, let alone reply coherently.
His lips had wandered to your jaw, peppering a trail of kisses around his rough fingers, “What is it, baby girl? Tell me whatcha need.”
You choked out your reply, “In.. inside.”
A low laugh danced across your skin, “That’s my girl. Always needing something fillin’ her up. ‘Least when I’m involved, anyway.”
He pressed harder against your aching sex - the abrasion of the fabric turned you into a whimpering mess in a matter of seconds. You needed more. You needed him.
Joel groaned against your skin when you tugged his hand past the waistband of your pants, pushing him lower toward your core.
“Need me to make you feel good, sweet girl?” his voice thrummed through your chest. You nodded, urging your lungs to take in sweet, fresh air amidst the constriction. Joel loosened his grip ever so slightly, letting you catch your breath.
He hummed against your jaw as he adjusted his hand with his fingers teasingly at your entrance. A single finger played with your wet hole, swirling around carefully, not fully giving you what you need. Not yet.
You mewled a slurred version of his name, eyes rolling back when his grip tightened around your throat.
Joel’s fingers didn’t stop, but rather pushed further, sinking past your soaked folds and into your tight pussy. A small whimper from you made him smile, carefully eyeing you as he moved his fingers, curling them up to brush your sweet spot.
“Joel… fu-fuck,” you choked.
His fingers plunged deeper into your warm cunt, curling harshly to draw a long-awaited moan. Until now, Joel hadn’t had the joy of hearing you utter anything above a whisper.
You cried out, straining against his grip, but was sent back to fighting for that sacred blood flow back to your brain.
You brought your hand up to meet the one at your neck, tapping against the back of his hand. A beat passed before Joel realized the mistake. He swiftly released you and cradled your head, slowing his movements between your thighs.
“Sorry,” you rasped, “that was just a little too hard. I couldn’t really make any noise without coughing.”
Joel leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. He broke away with the softest tone you’d heard all night.
“You ain’t got nothin’ to apologize for, honey,” he replied, spreading his kisses to your cheeks. “Got a little too ahead of myself there.”
He kissed you until you were left breathless and panting. By now your lips were plump from the bites and nips Joel had given them.
“Maybe we could try a different position, whaddya say?”
After a beat of thought, you nod in agreement and follow his lead. He removed his hand from your pants, lightly sucking at his soaked fingers, and moaning at your taste across his tongue.
This was the closest he’d been to truly tasting you. Words escaped him as he tried to describe the feeling of heaven on his very lips.
You stood from the couch and watched Joel taste yourself on his fingers. He was completely entranced, and monitoring your every movement as you waited for his direction.
Darkness filled his eyes, “Y’might need to take those pants off, sweetheart. Need a good angle for this.”
Now right in front of his legs, you urged Joel to spread them apart and stood between them.
He took this as a silent request for his help. Joel gave you a smile and sat forward, letting his hands climb up your thighs, taking their sweet time to cover as much of them as he could.
Joel hooked his fingers on your waistband and gently tugged, unwrapping you like it was Christmas morning.
Your bottoms dropped to your ankles, and all was left was your soaked panties, the last barrier between Joel and what he’d wanted to see most. Joel leaned further, leaving a trail of kisses from your mid-thigh to your hip, alternating to the other side. Each touch of his lips set you ablaze. His gentle touches paled in comparison to the heat roiling through your belly, trickling right down to your aching pussy.
At long last he peeled your panties off of you, slowly sending them down your legs until they joined your pants. Your lower half was bare for him now; you were a gift unwrapped, the best present he could’ve asked for.
“Christ,” Joel muttered. His eyes scanned over your half naked form, giving you a curious look at your chest.
He wanted nothing more than to wander up there, letting his hands dip below the fabric and slide up to your chest. Your tits were selfishly hidden from him, with your perfect, perk nipples poking through, enticing him to search for more.
You wrapped your legs on either side of him, pushing Joel back against the couch so you could get into position. His legs stayed spread open, thus making you open yours across his.
Spread perfectly wide for whatever he had planned for you.
Joel cupped the back of your neck and pulled you in for another kiss, working his hands over your thighs in the process. You could feel a couple of damp fingertips from where he’d fingered you before. Those same fingers now crept toward your needy hole, teasing you ever so slowly.
You bucked your hips and positioned them over his hand, whining at the lack of touch.
“Joel, please,” you mumbled, keeping your lips in tandem with his own. Joel grumbled out a reply you couldn’t discern before a hand made its way to your throat.
Joel pressed down on either side of your windpipe to deliver that sweet head rush of elation.
“I’ve got you, baby girl, I’ll take care of you.”
And that, he did. His hands moved with pure greed at your neck and pussy, sending two fingers up into your tight cunt. You cried out against his lips as he slowly pumped into you.
“That’s it, sweet girl. Let it all out.”
You were relieved you could make at least a little noise. It was better than it was at home, where you’d spent countless nights touching yourself, moaning against your hand or a nearby pillow.
But here… here you could cry out as Joel touched you. You could freely show him how good he was making you feel.
You let out a soft whine, but it was not well-received by Joel.
“I wanna hear you, baby.”
A louder moan drew from your throat. Joel’s fingers curled inside of you, pressing into the spongy part right past your entrance. Your walls fluttered gently around his fingers, pulling him in further.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” said Joel, still mumbling against your lips. You offered him a smile, proud that your body was to his liking. It was all you’d hoped for, to be perfect for him.
“Not sure how this little pussy’s gonna handle me, though,” he continued in a cocky voice. “But I think you could do it.”
He curled his fingers harshly, causing you to slur your words together. Something about Joel, and harder, and please.
“Such a good girl. Bet you’d take anything I gave you, huh?”
You nodded slightly, constricted under his grip to move any further.
Joel pushed his fingers deeper, picking up his pace until the wet sounds of your ravaged cunt filled the room. Your juices flowed from your pussy and onto his hand, leaking down from his fingers to his palm, pooling your sweet slick before it trickled to the floor below.
His pace became relentless, though the grip on your throat loosened. You let out a shuddering moan as he furiously pumped his fingers, making your cunt squelch with the most obscene sounds you’d ever heard.
“Attagirl,” Joel praised, “Just keep still. I gotcha.”
The reassuring tone kept you conflicted - it totally contrasted from what he was doing to your body.
Fuck, if this is how it was with just his hands alone, you silently prayed that you could handle what else he could give you.
There was a new tightness in your abdomen, pooling around in your sex, but it was a deeper sort of pressure you’d never felt. It felt like…
“Joel,” you protested, “I think I gotta pee.”
He laughed against your lips, “Just work with me here, darlin’.”
You squirmed on his hand as this new sensation spread through your pussy. This kind of pressure wasn’t something you could’ve gotten from your own hand, let alone any toy.
No, this was the masterful work of Joel Miller’s fingers, unraveling you around him.
He struck deeper, twisting his wrist to get a better angle, curling each thick digit against your sweet spot. You choked on a gasp as the pressure in your abdomen built, threatening to break apart.
With a flurry of swift motion the tension broke, and a beautiful symphony sounded - the rush of your juices that poured onto his hand, the strangled moan that fell from your slacked mouth, followed by the pleased groan Joel drew out.
“What… hah… was that..?” you panted. Joel kissed your cheekbone as he worked you through your high.
“Did I just… did I sq-“ you could barely make out the word.
“You did. And you did such a good job, sweet girl.”
The praise roiled through your gut. A soreness flooded through your sex, trailing toward your cervix. You swallowed nervously at the thought of anything bigger, and what it could do to your insides.
Joel slowed his pace and released the hand that had been trained to your neck. You both worked through your climax, coming down smoothly to where you now laid slumped against Joel’s chest.
His hands still roved over your skin, gently kneading your ass and thighs as you caught your breath.
“How you feelin’, honey?” his Southern drawl intoxicated his words with a sickly sweetness.
You pressed your face into the crook of his neck a let out a small, content mmm, taking in his scent. The mix of his cologne and sweat sent something possessive through you, to have this all for yourself. It felt too selfish for that pining to be one-sided - for you to want him as much as you did, without knowing if he held the same ferocity about you as you did him.
“Thirsty.”
“I bet. That’ll take a lot outta ya - let’s get a glass of water and getcha cleaned up.”
You worked your legs off of his thighs and stood shakily. After sitting in that awkward position and having your senses scrambled, your knees buckled beneath your weight, desperately trying to hold your quivering thighs steady.
“Hold on, sweetheart, I’ve gotcha,” Joel said, swiftly standing on steady feet. You pouted at the unfairness - his hands tore at your sex and left you trembling while he was perfectly fine.
“You better not laugh at me,” you snapped, though the drained tone in your words had Joel chucking slightly.
He held you steady with both hands and led you toward the kitchen, “You look like you got a hip replacement.”
“You’re nearing that age, aren’t you?” you quipped. Joel gave you a firm smack on your ass as his reply.
“Better watch it, I don’t do well with brats.”
hi y’all! thank you so much for reading and supporting, and happy Kinktober!
If you’re looking for the part 3 of this, it’s called Daddy’s Girl! I would love if you gave it a read
ily xoxo
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𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader x eddie munson
tags: mmf threesome, oral sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, piv, anal, double penetration, dirty talk, dom!eddie, dom!steve, sub!reader, best friends with benefits, mentions of virginity, hair-pulling, breeding kink, throatfucking, squirting, praise and degradation, everyone is horny
summary: back home from school, you recount about your time away in college with steve and eddie, leading to a sexual proposition that you never would’ve expected.
notes: pure filth, forgive me if it is hard to visualize positions… threesomes are very messy and crazy to write! feedback and reblogs appreciated :)
There’s a veering shift in the way they look at you. Maybe it’s because you’ve been gone for so long, so out of the loop, nothing but a modulated grainy voice on the other end of a call line, or a lingering scent in the back of their closets — jasmine, soap, the smell of girl and all things sweet, a tang of Eddie’s favorite green bud.
You want to believe it’s because they’ve missed you, they always do, but it’s different.
The way they each hug you, toned arms locked tightly around your waist, dragging and dragging upwards until it’s slung over your shoulder possessively and Steve’s perfectly-curved nose is in the tangles of your hair.
Ours. Ours. Ours.
You may have been gone for almost a year, but you’re still their girl.
“Look at you, dressin’ all tough and shit now!” Eddie grins proudly, tugging the hem of your skull shirt towards him as he tenderly presses your head to his chest. You nearly stumble on your boots, nothing but a shy smile ghosting the curl of your upper lip as he runs his thumb along your brow bone and you inhale him in with fluttering lashes. “You copying me? Stealing my style, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart. His gorgeous best friend. Wiser, older now, prettier — well, you’ve always been pretty, but now, you’ve really grown into your features.
A year, it’s only been a fucking year and yet you still look this good. Better. Knocking the wind out of him, just to breathe it back between his lips.
“You should be flattered,” You shake your head at him, clasping a hand over his shoulder as you gaze over at Steve with admirable regard. There’s emphasis on every word that falls from your taunting smirk as he steps up your front porch. “You should be flattered I chose your clothes over Harrington’s preppy mom-jeans and—“
Then you’re being crushed, wedged between two warm bodies and clashing scents of woodiness and lavender as Steve wraps himself around you.
“You’re talking mad shit about me now, Y/N? All this time, thought I was your favorite — hey, I know that face — I am certain I was your favorite. I was before this one,” He ruffles Eddie’s hair roughly, beaming at either of you. “Came along and practically hypnotized you with his — his rings and his music and his…”
“Shut up and just say you missed me already.” You pull Steve closer to you, his face burying itself in the crook of your neck as Eddie rests his chin on the top of your scalp. It’s a chorus of can’t believe you’re back, crazy you left us in the first place, you’re here, we’re gonna spend so much time together. You can only smile, feeling their love spill out of their respective cups and into yours as you pull them into the house. “Saps.”
Your childhood bedroom of pinks and blues and whites feels exceptionally, jarringly smaller.
Steve and Eddie take up so much space — long legs and big socked feet, sharp jaws and curious eyes as you sit out on the fluffy beige carpet, sifting through the contents of your suitcase as you tell them stories about wild parties, about classes, about your messy roommates and about professors who didn’t know how to teach.
‘Listen, I loved Chicago, but I’ll always love Hawkins.’
‘Hello? The only reason you like Hawkins is because of us.’
‘Still you and your ego, Harrington.’
You don’t tell them about the boys, about the crushes and what kind of antics you got up to in the absence of them. Of them, their protectiveness, their touch, gentle and fleeting and borderline blurring the lines of friendship.
There was an ache for Steve and Eddie — far from platonic, short of romantic, closer to a sexual awakening than anything. The nights where you called, feeling the baritone of their deep snappy voices over the phone as they fought over for a turn, that dreaded dial tone when the line had gone dead and you were left with an emptiness, a twisting heat in your stomach as you replayed their words over and over again before you slept: Miss you. Come home, pretty girl.
You can’t help but wonder what they got up to while you spent nights in the dorms tossing and turning to the thought of either of them. There’s only so many ways you can quietly lull yourself to a blissful sleep in a shared room.
“Mmm, what do we have here?” Eddie breaks up the childish bantering between you and Steve with a curious tone, waving a flimsy stack of polaroids between his forefinger and middle.
No. No. Absolutely not. Not fucking now.
“Okay, Eddie. Maybe not…” Your laugh is frantic and near-alarmed, hands already reaching out for him until he’s gently swatting you away. “… not that one. Hey, no.”
“Cold case, hard evidence of little Y/N’s college escapades?” He quirks a beady brow, tongue wiggling against his front teeth as he winks at Steve and rambles on in amusement. “Do you… do you hear that? Oh, oh! Eddie, pssst, pssst, Eddie… look at me!”
“Give it back, asswipe.”
“Is Y/N guilty or…” He cards through the pictures, lines dimpling around his pursed lips as a wicked grin starts to split his face in half. “Innocent?”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Stupid. You should have taken this into account, boys and their lack of respect for privacy, your boys and their habit of sticking their noses where they aren’t fucking supposed to. Eddie and his big greedy mouth, yapping and yapping until he’s dragged good ol’ Steve into his influential mess — you’re trapped between the two brunettes, pleading to Ozzy that they save you from the embarrassment and just move on with their lives.
It’s the worst picture out of the stack. So much for “it’s all about preserving the memory, you know, you’re only young once.”
Memory or not, it was supposed to be for your eyes only.
Not Steve’s. Not Eddie’s.
They stare at a blurry photo of you, very topless and covered in bruising hickies, your smile split into a hearty laugh as a green lime dangles from between your teeth and Some Blond Guy licks up a trail of salt off of the horizon of your pretty tummy.
“Oh, my god.” Steve gapes. “Dude. Body shots?”
“Guys…”
“Don’t guys us, who is this rat-faced son of a bitch that’s practically making out with your stomach?” Eddie’s brows furrow, jealousy dripping from his tone. He’s trying to lead with the playful card, but it’s difficult — difficult when he’s looking at a picture of a guy (who looks like he’s fucking named Brad) basically violating you.
“He’s… a friend. Just a friend.”
Steves laughs unconvinced, “Ah, friend. Guys and girls… they can’t be friends.”
“You’re friends with Robin.” You frown.
“Robin’s gay, you idiot.” Eddie flicks the back of your head.
“Okay, right! Fine! She’s an exception, though.” You scoff. This conversation is unbelievable. “Well, us then? We’re friends.”
Friends. It’s a weird word. People say the l-bomb is horrible, but the f-bomb — friend, not fuck — is absolutely petrifying, numbing, fear-inducing.
It hangs heavily over your heads like something you’re not supposed to say, like forbidden fruit, Adam, Eve, and the serpent. Because the meaning of friends has always been a little strange for the three of you. What are friends?
What are we - what are we - what are we?
You are not friends, you are more, something unreachable, unconventional, something only you and they can understand, you are—
“Best friends.” Eddie corrects, glancing up at you. He pins you with his eyes, even as you suddenly avert your attention down to the pack of Marlboros in your lap like it could serve as a scapegoat, your fingers drumming anxiously against the weathered box. “You know what, I get it. I do. I really do, Y/N. A pretty girl — a woman, like you, has primal urges. And when you’re in college…”
“Eddie… I’m not thirteen.”
“Where sometimes mediocre, average fucking bozos like this Brad-looking fellow come along… bless his heart for even trying, by the way...”
You groan outwardly, fingers fumbling to pinch a cig between your quivering lips. Your voice comes out muffled, sharp and blunt like the end of a knife. “His name is Matt, okay?”
Steve winces, glancing over at Eddie who responds to with a shrug. “Okay, well, Matt is just as bad.”
“Can you guys, like, chill out? Your name is literally Steve.” You avoid their questioning glares, an orange shadow coating the lower half of your jaw. “I just got back and you’re already hounding me.”
A harsh sizzle cuts through the atmosphere as you raise your Bic lighter to your mouth.
You’re defensive. Sensitive.
They hate it. It’s not like you.
“So, what then?” Eddie continues, unable to drop the subject. He wants to pry. He needs to. It’s you. It’s you, so he has to know every detail, even if it leaves you fuming, nostrils flaring at his persistence. “Is he… the college boyfriend? College sweetheart? How about fratboy, porno fantasy? Hot TA that gives your exams a pass every time? You’ve always been ass at math, can’t even tell a full gram from half so I wouldn’t technically be surprised.”
God. Insufferable. But you still thrum under his stare, his pupils imbedding themselves into your skin as you suck your cheeks in and inhale.
Eddie wonders if you remember, if there’s some part of you that thinks back on your graduation night, the way he touched you in that diner, a hand spread over your thigh, your head on his shoulder as Steve rambled about how boring his version of graduation was.
Eddie wonders if you remember the way you inhaled him inside Steve’s garage, knees sinking into the shitty abandoned couch beside the washing machine as you eagerly sucked him off. You were on cloud nine, adrenaline coursing through your veins from the thought of college-college-college, but also when will you ever get to do this again? Do this with someone as perfect and rare as Eddie?
‘Do they have boys like you in college?’
You can still picture the glimmer of his smile. ‘God, I hope not. What a bad influence they would be.’
‘I think I turned out pretty okay so far.’
His rings stuck in your hair, his head thrown back against the furniture, your mouth and the lewd, filthy squelch of his cock burying itself in your throat while you waited for Steve to come back after he had forgotten his wallet at the diner.
‘This doesn’t change anything’, you had told him. ‘We’re always gonna be best friends.’
‘I know, sweetheart. Just needed something to take the edge off, didn’t you? Bet you’ve been working so hard on getting that scholarship, smart girl.’
He fingered you under the graduation gown afterwards.
“Y/N.”
Fuck. “I didn’t — it was nothing. He was nothing. Trust me. Just… I mean, a quick fuck, s’all, I didn’t even…” You chuckle nervously, girlish and unsure and very vulnerable. “… okay, he was fun, but like, I didn’t even cum so… so it doesn’t count. He doesn’t count.”
“You fucked Brad?”
“Matt.” You cringe.
Steve’s voice nearly booms. “You fucked Matt?”
“It’s college!” You cough out, choking on the contents of your cigarette. “People fuck other people all the time.”
“Weren’t you a virgin?”
You were a virgin. Technically. But you were also a virgin when Eddie spread you open on that couch, moaning as he told you how proud he was of you for working so hard.
You were also a virgin when Steve made out with you in the back of a movie theater, where he’d left a gnarly hickey on your left boob for everyone to see — including Eddie, who didn’t even bat an eyelash because he knew, he fucking knew that Steve boyishly wanted you in the same way he did the summer after you graduated, and he supposes that’s why there’s always been an unspoken understanding between the three of you.
‘If you make a sound, we’re gone. Kicked out. Won’t get to finish this awful movie,’ Steve said. ‘You want that?’
Breathless. Eager. Drowsily drunk on your affection.
His lips against your neck, your pulse point, a nibble to your jaw, a hungry tug on your earring. Fucking hell. How soft he was, how gentle, how he touched you with such a special regard and how some sick, jealous part of you thought — were you like this with Nancy? Was it ever like this was Nancy? Part of you wanted to moan. Croak out his name. Make a sound, any sound, so you could get kicked out and have him all to yourself.
You were a virgin when Eddie let you practice a handjob on him in the living room of his uncle’s trailer. You were a virgin when Steve ate you out in his car after finding out you were leaving for Chicago.
You were a virgin.
“I was, but I’m… do you even count that? He didn’t even… he could barely stick it in me at first, Steve, Eds.”
The air feels angry. Tense. It’s suffocating, how they share that look, how they casually train their gazes back on you like you’ve killed someone. “What was he like?”
“Come again?”
Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull as Eddie steals the cig from your lips, taking a drag before he repeats himself — slower, syllables laced with a darker want.
“I said, what was he like? In bed? You said he could barely stick it in you, so I doubt he was any fucking good.”
“Did he kiss you?” Steve follows on, nodding at Eddie to pass him the Marlboro. It’s so fucking intimate. His lips on the patch where Eddie’s had been, to which, in turn, where yours was. There’s smoke everywhere, even as he speaks, it somehow hits you coldly right on the mouth. “Was he a good kisser?”
Only then do you realize how physically close you are to both of them. You’re stuck, sandwiched between their thighs, their knees knocking against yours as you try to compose yourself. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t awful but it wasn’t good, either. Too much tongue. Too much — not enough… not enough teeth, I guess. You know how I…”
Oh, they know, alright.
You don’t even flinch as Steve leans over and passes the cig back to Eddie. It’s a dance, a fucking taunt as you clench your jaw and curl into yourself under their presence. The longer-haired brunette tosses the dirty polaroid aside, speaking accusingly through a lazy drag.
“Thought you wanted to save it for someone special, sweetheart.”
“I did.”
“No judgement there. Lay it on us, what changed then?”
You shrug, blinking rapidly. “Just wanted to get it over with.” They don’t believe you. It’s clear as day on their faces, the crease between their eyes, the side-twitch of Eddie’s lips and Steve’s nerved running of hands through his hair. “If you wanna call bullshit…”
“Bullshit.” These fuckers. Steve eggs you further, “A real reason, come on, Y/N.”
“Look, you’re gonna make fun of me.”
“Which we always do. Just spill it.”
You can’t hide anything from them. Not them. Not Steve, who’s practically had his handsome face between your legs for hours and not Eddie who’s basically bent you over the hood of his van so he could spread you open with his fingers.
Not your best friends, who you’ve wanted in an insatiable way all your life, even when you had went away, it was always them — just the thought of them — that made you dizzy in all the right headspaces, the callousness of their fingers, their constant gonna-take-care-of-you aura and that implicit agreement between you and the two of them that I’m yours, m’your girl, always going to be.
“I just always thought I’d… lose it to one of you guys, and — I mean, you guys weren’t there and so I just figured I’d be more… fuck, I dunno, desirable? Yeah, just… desirable if I lost it before I came back since you already have so m-much, like, experience and...” You mumble rapidly, losing your tongue amongst your word-vomit of an explanation as you clamber onto your knees and try to stand up. Hot, embarrassed tears blur the cones of your vision. “It’s stupid, really! Like, it doesn’t even matter to me anymore because i-it was such a disappointing experience. Let’s just drop this, okay?”
This has to be a dream. A prank. A delusion. Maybe you’re still in Chicago, blacked-out after a party. Drank too much? Took the wrong weed? Shit, maybe Eddie is right — you don’t know half a gram from a full one.
And before you can shakily rise to two feet, your elbow is tugged back forcefully. Pain shoots up your arm, and you nearly yelp when your ass collides onto your springy twin mattress.
“Uh-uh, you are not getting yourself out of this so easily. If it was oh-so disappointing, tell us what he did wrong and we’ll… we’ll… we can be your fix-it. Think of us as a rebound for, like, the guy you totally should not have fucked. Again, no judgement. Just saying a girl like you should have high standards.”
You should not be turned on right now.
Eddie looks sincere and so pleadingly desperate for an answer that you feel the yearning in his stare. It’s graduation night all over again. The stir of your belly, the squeeze he gives your thigh as he sits beside you, your glance of disbelief at Steve and his return of that hooded-gaze that turns you completely boneless as he joins the two of you on the bed.
“And you meet that standard?” You scoff, a snort following.
His brows rise up his forehead. You’re testing him. “I can meet any standard, sweetheart.”
“And you swear you guys can do better than Matt?”
“You already know we can do better than Matt.” Steve laughs, almost as if you had just said something completely stupid.
Eddie’s fingers trail up your knee, a ghost of a touch. He’s barely even pressing into your skin, but you feel him — his warmth, just inches away, gliding over the little goosebumps on your body, caressing the shaky ball of your knee.
“You know, we talked ‘bout you. Had our own bonding moment, me and Harrington. Jus’ talked about how we’d take you out once you got back, treat you like a real princess after being so studious, talked about how… hm...” He chuckles, pausing to glance up at you while you lose yourself in his beady smile. This fucker. This absolute fucker. “Talked about how generous you are when it comes to friends. Thinkin’ we didn’t know you were practically playing pornstar with the both of us. Doin’ shit behind our backs like you’re a genius.”
Both of us.
Both. You want them both, and suddenly, you don’t feel bad for being unbelievably horny, a fucking mess.
“Listen…”
“Nu-uh. It was smart. You gotta make do with what you have. I’ll give you that.”
Steve whispers, thumbing at the corners of your lip. “Hey. No need to be embarrassed. S’alright that big brain of yours can’t think right now. You just wanna feel good. That whole thing with Matt must’ve been so disappointing.”
Eddie puts out his cigarette on the polaroid, smirking when he cups a large hand around your chin, thumb and pointer finger pressing into your hollow cheeks before he’s tenderly pulling your head to look at him.
There is too much heat. It’s stuffy, and warm, and you can’t really breathe. There’s grimy sweat in the crooks your elbows, the duvet is getting stuck to your skin and you can’t really sit still in the itchy fabric of your sweats because it’s fucking boiling. It’s boiling and you can’t think and you don’t know what the hell is happening, and you want air — not this swirling humidity that wafts under your knees, between your thighs…
“You’re awfully quiet.”
“I’m thinking.”
“Yeah?” His hand dips down your jaw, fingers wrapping around the small girth of your throat. A gentle squeeze. Experimental. Your breath hitches, a stuttering exhale as he tries again, harder, then he’s withdrawing and soothing the roughened area. “Care to share with the class? Unless, it’s inappropriate… then, you might just wanna,” He chuckles, tilting your head back. “… whisper it.”
If this is a black-out, you hope you wake up with a gnarly hangover.
“If that offer still stands, if you guys wanna be my… my rebound or— or fix-it, or whatever the fuck...” This is messy. This is wrong. This is… this isn’t what friends do… but at this point, can you even call yourselves friends? “I’m down to do it.”
“You sure? I mean, you were just a virgin and…”
You snap. “Well, that never stopped either of you before, did it?”
He lunges at you.
Your mouth finds Eddie in the tangle of limbs and bodies. You run your fingers through his unruly hair, feeling yourself relax into the sudden notion as he tilts his chin to slot his lips over yours. It’s brazen, an open letter of lust from you to him saying I want this. I want you to kiss me back. I want this so bad, you don’t even know.
It’s a burning ember of feverish desire as he parts himself open and open, tongues slowly rolling against each other until a moan slips out of you. “You like this? Don’t think it’s weird or anything?”
“M’fine.”
“Tell me to stop — fuck — and I’ll stop.”
“No.”
You can feel Steve pressing against your back, the pads of his fingers digging themselves into your flesh, marking the spots where Eddie’s lips can’t reach as the metalhead dips into your collarbone and sucks. Hard. He leaves you purple and aching, your neck craned as the lighter-haired brunette dips your head back and gazes down at you.
“Christ, she likes that.”
You sigh in bliss, slowly unraveling at the seams.
And oh, your whole body fucking stutters when Eddie dips his hand between your legs, causing you to lurch for Steve’s mouth in order to stifle the whiny gasp of surprise knocked out of you. His palm envelops your jaw. He’s warm. Wet. Lids moony and lips silky with an indiscernible impatience you can’t recognize.
More. Give me more of you.
You jolt as Eddie’s hands carefully push the fabric of your shirt up, his nose nudging against the valley of your breasts before he’s cupping you in a lazy grasp. He mouths at your nipples and he savors it. He thanks you. He thanks you with a twist to one of the hardened buds, soothing the area with his tongue before his teeth climb up the front of your neck and he makes you whimper.
“Fuck, I love how whiny you get.” He hums. “Sensitive little thing, aren’t you? S’just my favorite part about you, Y/N. I’m sure Harrington agrees, seeing as… I’m not the only guy you do this kind of shit with.”
A bite. A bruise. An apologetic kiss even though he’s far from sorry. He’s calling you a slut without even saying it.
And while Eddie traverses his way up to your mouth, Steve dips down to nurse a path all over your back. Your shirt gets lost along the carpet somewhere, your shoulders bare and waiting as he takes your flesh between smiling lips and leaves a glistening trail of wet, open-mouthed pecks on your flexing muscles.
Then Eddie… oh, Eddie, the dirty-minded fucker.
Eddie gives you another hungry kiss, only this time it’s like you haven’t kissed in years. He kisses you like he doesn’t already have you yearning and yearning for more. He bites your bottom lip, drawing a raspy gasp from the back of your throat. His nose smashes against your cheek as he moans into you, the taste of cigarettes lingering on your tongue.
“You’re so pretty. You’re so pretty, baby…” Steve ruts against your tailbone, collecting your hair into a careful fist and tugging until you’re pulled away from your deepening kiss. “You must’ve been so empty back there, aching. I can’t imagine how awful you must’ve felt, Y/N. Were any of those guys even any good to you?”
“No. Not even close — not like you.”
“Mm, shame.”
You don’t take your stare off of Steve at all, scared that if you looked away, scared that even one second would take this away from you. He kisses the sides of your socked feet, grazing his lips over your ankles and clothed calves until you shudder at the close proximity to your core.
Anticipation is coursing through your veins. Your chest is heaving, eyes wide like a baby owl. There’s an unmistakable throb that you recognize between your thighs. Burning you from the inside. Burning you at the stake. Burning you until you’re nothing but ash and a brandished vessel of blooming hickies.
Fucking fuck.
“You hear that? Harrington’s right, bet Matt didn’t even eat you out if he couldn’t even get his cock in.” Eddie grits out unfiltered while you part your legs for Steve, inviting him. You exhale sharply — nuzzling your face into the crook of the metalhead’s neck as he wraps you in his arms. He can feel the soft, warm puffs of breath against his jaw as Steve finally tugs your sweats down. “Your pussy’s tight, Y/N.” A kiss to your belly. A suckle to where your pelvis meets your hip. A brush of tongue against your clothed clit until you jolt upright. “But not that tight.”
You melt. You fucking burst. You don’t fucking know anymore, but either way, it’s a new area of bliss. Eddie can quite literally feel you go rigid in his grasp, sliding deeper and deeper against him until he has no choice but to tuck you under the nook of his elbow and hold you close.
You’re burning, hand clenching around Eddie’s bicep as Steve drags the squishy tip of his nose between your folds through the cotton fabric.
“Pretty cunts like yours deserve to be treasured.”
“Please, Steve…” His brown eyes flicker up to you attentively, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your mound as your hips impatiently stir against the bed. “Fuck — just… just take me right now. Please. Eddie, tell him, please.”
“Oh, sweetheart…” Eddie purrs, palming at your tits teasingly. He blows cool air into your face, brushing away your bangs as his lips hug the shell of your ear. “Thought all your begging would be so much better given what Harrington’s told me. Unless he’s a liar? You wouldn’t call him a liar, would you? Beg Steve to give it to you. Beg him the way you would if it was me down there.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
They are filthy in the fucking head. They have already stripped you of your pride. You may as well just follow. You may as well turn yourself in, play along with them and this fantasy that may or may not be real. Oh, but it has to be real. It has to, when you can feel Steve’s fingers dip past the decorative bow of your panties, shimmying and shimmying until you’re bare and open for him.
You squeeze around nothingness.
“You wanna stop?” Steve runs his palm up your stomach, fingers splayed so unbelievably wide and long across your skin. It makes you lightheaded, a fixation on his smooth digits and reddened knuckles in contrast to his rose-pink complexion. “We can stop right here, whatever you want, whatever feels comfortable, baby.”
He’s being nice. It should make you feel warm inside, giddy even, that given the circumstances, he still regards you in a way that makes you feel nothing short of safe. Comfortable. But that sick, wronged part of you — the side you happen to share with your two best friends — wants him to drop the gentleman act.
Take me, take me like you have all those times before.
Why hold back now?
“I don’t wanna stop.”
Eddie leans over and nips at the tip of your ear. His deep whisper leaves you tingling, almost trembling at how bad you need them in you, on you, just here. “Then beg.”
“I…” You whimper, cheeks growing hot as you feel their eyes study you. “Steve, I just… please? Please, I don’t…”
“You know what? Maybe we shouldn’t.”
“No! No, please fucking touch me.” You gasp shakily, biting your pride back and digging your nails into your calves before you’re spreading your legs farther to satisfy him, entice him. “Please touch me. I need it, need you s-so bad. Steve, please?”
He hums. You aren’t sure if it’s a sound of approval or one of uncertainty, but either way, your pathetic manner of begging does the trick. For now.
And you’re thankful that you’re home alone because the moan that’s ripped right out of your throat is almost animalistic, maybe even concerning, when Steve dips his face between your thighs and finally puts his mouth on your throbbing sex. Your head lolls back into Eddie’s neck, his fingers coming to stroke the strained vein in the column throat as you arch against him and rut against an unmistakable, very-acute pressure on your tailbone.
He’s hard.
Meanwhile, Steve is gently swiping his tongue over your folds, suckling at your clit before he’s dipping the muscle in and out of your fluttering hole.
“That’s it, Harrington.” A deep chuckle erupts from Eddie, his breaths growing deeper with each moan that leaves his companion. “Go to town on her.”
You’re basically panting for air, pulled under as Steve drags a heavy palm down your outer thigh, slapping where it rounds into the shape of your ass. It stings harshly, a burning bloom of irritation before he does it again and it stings even more.
But, fuck, does it feel good.
Steve’s nose presses against your bundle of nerves as he stretches his tongue into you. His expression is pulled into a concentrated scowl, knitted brows and muffled moans while he decides to stroke the pad of his finger against your entrance and gapes at what he discovers.
“You’re so fucking wet right now… Christ.” Agonizingly slow, Steve pushes a digit inside your cunt, curling it so that it hits that spongy desperate part of you that makes you croon and twitch in Eddie’s arms. You nearly gush at the sensation.
“There we go, princess. Mmm, fuck, you take good care of my girl, don’t you, Harrington?”
Eddie is exceptionally fucked and twisted in the head. You think it’s a power play, him enjoying his one-up, best foot forward against Steve because he had you first. My girl. My girl. It’s warranted, valid — wrong in all the right ways — but he’s not lying, because Eddie took the initial bullet that was his desire for you.
“Play nice, Munson. Sharing is caring.”
“Then stop messin’ with her like she’s a plate of mush.”
Quite frankly, you feel like a plate of mush.
It stirs him, competitively pushes the brunette to go harder and before you know it, his fingers are squelching down there. It’s wet, erotically messy, probably would’ve been gross to any other guy but it’s Steve and Eddie, your best friends who happened to be fucking perverts with a soft spot for you, so who cares?
Eddie does not mean to claim you. Especially claiming ownership over someone who, obviously, isn’t his if there’s easily another man inside you. But Eddie knows your body, he knows no other body like yours because it didn’t just stop at graduation night.
Maybe Harrington hasn’t caught on, but you’ve always been Eddie’s first love in all the ways that count. It’s truly unfair.
It’s even more unfair knowing that you’ll always favor Steve over him.
But it’s okay. The bed’s big enough for three.
Your hand grips Steve roughly by the wrist, forcing his hand down the drenched seam of your cunt even more.
“T-there… right there, just… want it hard, and — and fast… don’t need you to be gentle.”
“She’s blushing, Eddie.”
You blubber, eyebrows creasing with confusion as your voice gets caught in your throat and you rasp brokenly in immediate defense, “I don’t blush.”
Steve laughs. Loud. Shocked. Eyes-wide and mocking as he repeats your words under his breath and smirks up at Eddie. I don’t blush.
At this point, you’re just annoyed. “Oh, well, not you, honey.” You yelp in surprise as Steve scissors his thick fingers knuckle-deep, coating his skin in creamy arousal. “I was talking about your pussy.”
Instinctively, your smaller hand darts out to grab Eddie’s thigh, but instead, you’re met with something very hard, very much not his knee nor his leg — but his cock. The silky feeling of it in your hand turns you flustered. His red, heavy balls spill out from the waistband of his haphazardly-tugged boxers pooling below his taut hips.
The barbed-wire tattoo that wraps across his thigh taunts you, the faded bat wings on his abdomen just waiting to be tasted. You salivate at the thought of… fuck, nevermind. You can’t even think straight.
It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, but in the context of all this, it’s a sight that unhinges your jaw and causes you to try to squeeze your legs together — Steve feels the change in pressure around his head, how your thighs press harder against either ear, clenching and clenching till he has no choice but to lap at your cunt till you let go.
“F-Fuck, Steve… I’m… fuck, your mouth, it’s…”
A shared moan from Eddie and yourself cuts your blubbering short as you give his long shaft an experimental tug, running your thumb over his shiny slit till he’s hissing at you.
“Jus’ like that, Y/N.” Eddie groans, a hand coming to stroke the back of your head till he’s grasping the nape of your neck and making you watch yourself stroke his cock. “Shit, sweetheart… see what you — you do to me? God, fuckin’… you fucking slut. Christ… fuck, your hand just feels so… oh, baby.”
His chin tilts back, eyes rolling into his skull as you crudely lick the palm of your hand and reach for his balls, coating him in a glistening film that has you drooling beneath the surface. “Let me make you feel good, please?”
“Yeah? That what you want?” He grits out, sighing as you drag your tongue along the ink on his pelvis.
“Please?”
“Since you begged so nicely,” Eddie hums, leaning back on his elbows as your tiny fist instantly reaches for his heavy cock. He nods at it, dropping his look from your clouded eyes to where his cock rests against his lower stomach. “It’s all yours. Go crazy. You know how I fucking like it.”
Messy. Loud. Disgusting.
Fingers covered in saliva as you pump him in your grasp, massaging the sensitive ridge under his tip with each upward stroke. A squeeze to his shaft everytime Steve pumps his fingers out of you and rubs your clit just the way you need him to. Eddie’s hands wander over your hips, gripping you flush against him until you’re leaning over to take his cock into your mouth.
Stuffed full of Steve’s fingers and stuffed full of Eddie’s dick. What a predicament.
“Shittt…” Eddie hisses as you take him, lips suctioning around the aching head of his dick before you’re dragging your tongue down the velvety, wet base of him. He shudders visibly once again. “Jesus fucking Christ, baby. You’re g-goddamn divine.”
You try to suck him in deeper when Steve adds another finger, his tongue lapping at your needy clit as Eddie instinctively pushes on the back of your head and shoves you further down his cock. He holds you there, mewling at the way saliva and cum dribble down his ruddy shaft, pooling around his balls.
You gag disgustingly loud, retaliating with a heavy swat to his arm before you realize your own orgasm is approaching hard and fast once he finally lets off and gives you air.
“Fuck. Fuck. Steve, b-babe… I’m — oh, shit… m’gonna cum if you keep…”
“If I keep doing this?”
You sob into Eddie’s neck as Steve scissors his fingers in and out of you, the naughty squelch of your cunt overpowering the white noise of your childhood bedroom. It’s lewd, how your knuckles glisten with Eddie’s thick pre-cum, Steve’s fingers serving as a direct mirror to that when you find release and gush around him.
“Fuck, Y/N! That’s hot. That’s really fucking hot. Shit, I just made you squirt.” He exhales shakily, a shy laugh falling at the end of his ramblings. “Always wanted to do that. S’just so sexy when you do it — fuck — I wanna watch you do it again.”
Steve’s cock throbs intensely beneath you as you christen his mouth with your arousal, his jaw wet and chin shiny as he languidly moves his mouth side to side against your clit.
“O-Oh, god… s’too… m’too sensitive, I… Steve…”
Like a starving man, his strong hands keep you pinned down when he wraps them around your hips, feeling for your ass and spreading you wide while you soak his face.
“Whose cock do you want inside you first, sweetheart?” Eddie rasps, his free hand resting over yours as he drags it up your ribs, the swell of your breasts, brushing over your hardened nipples before he brings it back down to your stomach. Stroking and stroking, teasing you as your other best friend peppers the insides of your thighs with gentle kisses. “Thinking about how tight you probably are right now, even if Steve fucked you open with his fingers, I bet that little cunt of yours is still just as tight as that night in the garage, yeah? Yeah, it is.” He chuckles, drawing hearts on your hip bone. “Are you gonna let me fuck it? In front of Harrington? Let him watch me stick my cock inside it for the first time? Let him watch the way your eyes just… droop all sleepy and fucked-out when I cum in you?”
Steve laughs, smiling to himself as he wipes the slick from his mouth, collecting it with the pad of his fingers before he’s wiggling the digits in front of Eddie’s mouth.
“Taste her,” He says without shame, eyes moony and half-lidded as Eddie slowly wraps his lips around them. Eyes locked on Steve’s, he fucking moans at the flavor of you. “Sweet, isn’t she?”
He releases him with a pop, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“Oh, she’s the sweetest.” He drawls, tongue darting out to lick the space between Steve’s fingers. “You wanna watch me fuck her now, Harrington? Promise you can stick it in her pussy later.” Eddie’s hand cups your jaw, lolling your head back against his shoulder so he can smirk down at you. His doe-eyes swirl with some sick form of tenderness, and the crude denotation of his next words almost fly right over your head when his gaze flickers back up to Steve. “As long as I get her ass.”
A gasp rips out of you when Eddie pulls you up by your underarms, your tender cheek falling against the mattress while Steve lingers at the foot of the bed, arm propped up against the post — where he stands now fully nude.
Your eyes shamelessly rake over his length, admiring the groomed bush of hair around his base, his athletic frame, the girth of his arms. He pumps his cock in front of you, your attention fully directed to him as Eddie undresses himself behind you.
“Staring is rude, y’know.” Steve quips, breathless as he runs his thumb over his meaty tip with a cocky grin. He nods down at his prick, the shaft darker than the rest of him. “You think you can take it, babe?”
“I… I think so. It’s — you’re just so…”
“Big?”
“Perfect.” You gulp out, palm coming up from the mattress to reach for him. “You’re just perfect, Stevie.”
And you swear that Steve blushes. His cheeks tinge pink, freckles prominent on the bridge of his nose as a faint smile lingers across his pillowy lips. But before you can even let your nails excitedly skim across his abdomen, Eddie yanks you back by your hips, ass arched up into the air as he pries your legs apart with his knee.
The action takes you by surprise, your neck twisting to look helplessly over your shoulder up at Eddie. “What are you—“
He leans over you, caging your body with his. You gag when he shoves his fingers past your lips, clutching at his wrist while Steve’s darkened eyes meet his. “Spit.”
Fuck. Okay.
Maybe you really should’ve been patient and lost your virginity to one of them when you got back.
Eddie pulls away; strings of saliva connect to his palm, to which he uses as makeshift lube for his ruddy cock. You study the way he languidly spreads the thick glob up and down his dick, the filthy wet squelch of it causing heat to pool into your belly.
You jolt when you feel his fingers skim over your entrance. “E-Eds…”
The aftershocks of your previous orgasm still linger, evident due to the tremble of your thighs and the deep furrow in your brow as you take a moment to brace yourself.
“Sensitive, sweetheart?” Eddie’s curious voice crackles, the tip of his finger dragging along the backsides of your thighs, tracing the curve of your ass. “S’okay, Y/N. I’ll go slow. At first.” He quips, sincerity and amusement dripping from his tone all at once. His mouth dips down, kissing the planes of your shoulders, your spine, the dip of your tailbone. “Don’t get in your head about it. I’m gonna take care of you.” Eddie whispers, taking his cock into his fist and running the tip along your cunt. You choke on a moan, feeling him slowly split you open. “I a-always take care of you, don’t I? Fuck. Fuck. Shit, you’re — Y/N, baby, you’re already… already squeezin’ me, fuck. S’okay. Fuck. It’s okay. K-Keep clenching my dick like that and this’ll be over so… fast.”
“Eddie!”
You make a move to look at him, but Steve’s hand finds your jaw, pulling your gaze back. “Eyes on me. Tell me how it feels.”
“It’s…” You clutch at the sheets, syllables lost on your tongue as you mewl scandalously. “I can feel his cock s-stretching me out. M’just… just so wet for him.” You sob as Eddie bottoms out, his balls grazing against your clit. His lips meet the crook of your shoulder as he stills inside you. “So wet for it. Please. Please. Fuck, I need… need more. Need, oh, to m-move.” The sheets wrinkle beneath you as Eddie’s hips roll back, his cock slamming into you in deep, agonizing thrusts. “Oh, yes… yes, just like that��”
“Christ, Harrington.” Eddie lets out a grunt, thrusting in and out of you. He watches the way your folds grip around him, asshole puckering as he thumbs at it. “She’s… Jesus Christ, she feels amazing. You hear that? Shit, that’s just her pussy. Makin’ all those wet sounds like a goddamn – fuck – like she’s a little cocksleeve. Fuck yes, but you’re the real thing, a-aren’t you, sweetheart? God, I could jus’ live in your pretty cunt.” He rambles, a harsh spank landing on either of your ass cheeks.
“Fuck, Eddie!”
“I love this pretty pussy. Fuck. I fucking love it — so good. M-Mindblowingly good. Jus’ got me m-melting inside you. Fuck, Y/N. How am I ever supposed to go without this cunt? S’fucking dream, that’s it. You’re a fucking dream.”
Steve’s head falls against the intricate bedpost, face scrunched up into pleasure and agony just watching Eddie spear his cock into you. You fall further into the mattress, sweat beading off of your brow as you take in the sight of Steve’s cock dripping with pre-cum. His balls hang heavily between his thick thighs, his abs rippling under the orange glow of your lampshade.
Each stroke leaves Eddie’s creamy shaft glistening and wet, your arousal sticking to his skin and the bush of hair at the base of him as he fucks you deeply. A fist tangled in your hair, the other glued to your shoulder, his mouth pulled into a lewd ‘O’ that mirrors Steve’s handsome expression of bliss.
You whimper, eyes welling up with tears, “I’m gonna… oh, fuck, baby… m’gonna c-cum.”
“Yeah? Gonna cum on this cock?” Eddie snarls, hips quickly snapping into you. “Shit, shit, shit. Fuck, I can feel you tensing up for me. Yes, cum on it, sweetheart. S’okay, you can cum for us. Do it, Y/N.”
“So good. So — I’m cumming!”
Your whole body goes boneless against the longer-haired brunette, his arm generously scooping you up from under so that he can pull you flush against his chest. Your tits heave with every tremble of your thighs. Your cunt convulses around Eddie’s shaft, milking him as he keeps your hips firmly planted in place against his skin.
“Oh, honey. Yeah, that’s it.” Steve coos with a sweet chuckle, reaching over to cradle your face in his hands. “Came a little hard, huh? You did so well. Look at you, still so fucking hot.” He chuckles, brushing the hair away from your face and kissing your forehead. “Atta girl. Cumming on her best friend’s cock.” His thumbs prod at your bottom lip. “Who woulda thought?”
“Christ, Steve. She’s even — even tighter.”
“Yeah? Think it’ll fit?” Steve pouts, pumping himself as Eddie pulls out of you.
“Mmm, maybe. Maybe not. Can always butter you up some more, Y/N. Make sure there’s enough room for Harrington.” He snickers, “I call him big boy for a reason.”
You can only whine, too fucked-out from your orgasm to even properly respond.
Fuck. Really, that’s the only word on your mind right now.
“Hey, you with us?”
“Just…” You laugh, cut off by your own wince. “Fucking hell, just gimme a sec.”
Steve raises a brow at his friend, studying the way you roll back onto the bed, back arched against the sheets as you stretch your arms over your head and look dreamily up at him. “That good, huh?” You nod, biting your lip as he crawls onto the bed, “You think I can do better?”
A boost of confidence surges through you, the words leaving your lips airily and teasingly.
“Dunno. How about you show me, King Steve?”
“You’re gonna absolutely kill me, you know that?” The freckled brunette whispers, mouthing up your thighs before he’s rolling you on top of him, tucking your hair behind your ears as Eddie comes to kneel behind you, kissing the nape of your neck. “Calling me King Steve like it doesn’t turn you on when you say it,” He chuckles, rubbing up your thighs. “You rode Brad’s cock?”
“No. And his name… is Matt,” You grin, splaying your palms over his chest. “Play nice, tiger.”
“This is nice.” You guide him into your entrance, moaning as you sink down past his tip, the head of him catching on the swell of your clit. Steve’s head falls back against the bed, plump lips parting with a sigh as you take him to the hilt. “God, but this cunt is even nicer — shit, Munson, you weren’t lying.”
“Fuck, Steve. It’s… fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh, my god.” His thick cock spreads your folds open, the pink tint of his cock turning slick with your cum as you shakily pull yourself up and down his length. “Feels so good. Oh, your — please…”
Eddie’s arm wraps around your hips, his finger coming to circle your clit while his free hand spreads your ass apart, his dick nudging against your tight hole. “Do you trust me?”
Your jaw lolls back against Eddie’s shoulder, eyes fluttering in pleasure as Steve meets your thrusts. “Y-Yes, please. Just — fuck, need both of you. Need it inside m-me. Put it in, Eds. Please, put it in.” You beg tearily, resting your hand against his taut stomach.
“I’ll go slow.” He whispers, kissing your cheek before taking a hold of your neck. “So slow, you won’t even know I’m here. Jus’ focus on the way Harrington breeds that cunt, yeah? Guy fucking loves that shit. You tell me to stop — you tell either of us to stop and we will, understand?”
“I understand.”
“Good girl. You have lube for me?”
Your jaw falls open as Eddie slips a finger into your ass, the ring of muscle sucking the digit deeper and deeper inside as you fuck yourself on Steve.
“In my — my luggage.”
“Tsk tsk, naughty.”
You lose yourself in the tangle of limbs and shifting of blankets, your knees knocking against the mattress as Eddie finds his way back to the pair of you.
“Can’t believe you — you’re riding me right now. Holy shit, you look so… so beautiful.” Steve gasps out between wet strokes, worshipping your body with an open mouth, “Do you know how long I’ve been wanting this? Wanting to be inside you? Oh, and I get this pussy all to myself?
“I’ve always — fuck — always wanted to know how big you are. How it feels to be… to be filled up with my two favorite people in the world — oh, harder.” You growl, feeling a cool liquid squirt down your skin. The lube is warm, slippery as Eddie drenches everything in it, the sloppy squelch of his fingers working into your ass are enough to make your face heat up and hide in Steve’s shoulder. “Harder.”
“You really want this?” Eddie rasps, scissoring them in and out. “You think your virgin ass can take me? I think you need more time, baby. Gotta ease you into it.”
You reach around you to grasp his cock in your hand, panting against him while Steve continues to fuck the slick channel of your cunt. It’s devastating, how he hits every part of you, the crude squelch of it all, how Eddie grips and grips at your ass till you’re basically laying over Steve’s chest.
“I want it.”
“Breathe, then.”
It feels like hours before Eddie really does anything, just the cruel fingering of your ass accompanied by the pounding of Steve’s cock into you. Then eventually, there’s the sliminess of the lube, the glistening of two well-endowed ruddy cocks, happy trails and velvet skin slowly being swallowed by your cunt and ass.
The first few moments of Eddie’s tantalizing press of his cock against your puckering hole is enough to have you jolting forward in Steve’s arms, a comforting shush lulling you to a calm as the boys kiss down your body — worshipping you, soothing you, enticing you.
“Oh, my god!”
It’s… it’s too fucking much. The titillating burn of it. The building pressure. You feel like you’re being pulled under and under, endlessly being filled up by him until he’s drawing his hips back and pushing into you all over again.
“Relax, Y/N. You gotta relax, or I can’t — fuck, I won’t be able to take care of you.” Eddie kisses along the slope of your shoulder, his inked thighs entangling with Steve’s bare ones as he leans over your backside. “Okay?”
You nod and exhale sharply, letting yourself become mush between Steve and Eddie’s bodies as he drives into you from behind, using your ass the same way he had used your sopping cunt. Their cocks drive into you, bone mashing against bone, skin slapping against skin, warmth oozing out of you until you feel like you’re on fire.
“Does it feel good, honey?” Steve grunts from beneath you. The look on his face nearly makes you cum — hair tousled, eyes half shut as he groans deeply. His aching arms ripple, holding you against his chest as Eddie sloppily ruts into you from behind. “You want us to go faster? Make you squirt over both of our cocks? Fuck, taking it in the ass makes you so tight.”
You lose yourself in Eddie’s kisses, the way he drags his lips across your jaw and down your bruised neck, the way Steve sits up to toy with the peak of your breasts, his tongue swiping over the sensitive nubs.
Numb. Boneless. You can’t think.
“Think she’s gonna cum, Harrington. Just look at her.”
Steve cooes, flicking his finger over your swollen clit.
“You gonna cum, princess?” You gasp loudly as Eddie draws his hand across your ass, spanking you brutally until your face is buried in Steve’s collarbones. “Fuck, Eddie’s right… this cunt is — fuck — such a dream. Shit, you’re close. Think I’m gonna cum, t-too. M’gonna fill y-you up, Y/N. Fuck...”
“Yeah? Gonna breed my pussy?”
“Oh, that nasty mouth.”
“I want you to cum inside, Steve.”
“Fuck!” His warm seed fills you up quickly, shooting right against your walls as his hips snap into you over and over again. Relentless. Unforgiving. Your cunt fluttering and leaking with his own spill as Steve just fucking stares and watches you become one with him. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, princess. It’s — oh, you’re… m-milking me. Oh, shit. Shit!”
They’re both balls deep inside you and yet all you can think about is how you’re one-hundred percent never walking again after all of this is over.
Your own brain melts before you can even get a word out, turning you into a broken record of strangled moans and incoherent begging.
Princess, you like it when Eddie fucks your ass, don’t you?
Just wait till you give Harrington a turn.
You’re gorgeous like this, letting us stretch your little holes out just ‘cause we’re best friends — god — you dirty, wet girl. I’m never getting enough.
So pretty. So fucking p-pretty.
You cum instantly, your orgasm sneaking up on you from behind and swallowing you whole. Your release has you convulsing shamelessly in the boys’ arms, your mouth claimed by each of theirs as you switch between Steve and Eddie, then Steve again, and Eddie once more until your body refuses to recognize whose skin is whose and who tastes like what.
“Christ,” Eddie grits out. “Christ, your cunt is — you’re strangling my cock, baby. Baby. Oh, fuck, baby.”
Everything comes in a rush. Words lose their meaning, their formation and elegance (if you could even call dirty talk elegant) as Eddie’s ramblings get strung together and Steve’s hands roughly find solace on your thighs. The warm bloom in your ass almost makes you cum again, and you moan wantonly as Eddie jerks and vibrates against you.
You wince when they pull out at nearly the same time — almost as if they had coordinated it — and you wince when you feel their spend trickle down your thighs.
Your cunt clenches around nothingness as you sputter with their cum, your asshole puckering against Eddie’s face while he watches you gape between his hands. You whine when his finger prods at you, a hiss leaving your lips when he eats the cum from both of your holes.
Then, he slurps. Loud.
Definitely going to hell.
“Fuck.” You let out a breathy chuckle, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes to stop seeing the fucking stars that keep pulsing in your vision.
Unable to support yourself, you lazily collapse between the lanky bodies of Steve and Eddie, long limbs tangling with yours.
Steve kisses your temple, nuzzling his face under your chin. “Better than Brad?”
Silly boy.
You laugh again, harder this time, almost forgetting how sore your lower muscles are when Steve presses the curve of your nose against your neck and Eddie casually slings an arm over your stomach like he hadn’t just fucked your ass. “Better than Brad.”
“Thought his name was Matt.” Eddie huffs, tracing the blossoming hickey on your hip.
You glance at either of them, bringing your hands up to stroke their flushed cheeks before you’re giving them a gentle peck on the buttons of their noses. “I could give less of a fuck about Matt.”
“Good.”
“Can we please go get dinner now? You know, to celebrate my return and everything.”
Steve and Eddie collectively groan, burying themselves closer against you with sleepy eyes and sweaty skin.
“Just a little longer.”
“Eddie…”
“Meh.”
“Steve…”
“Nope.”
Theirs. Theirs. Theirs.
And it’s then — between your best friends’ naked and warm bodies, freckled skin and D&D-themed tattoos, soft long hair and thick romantic curls, moles and scars, the sun on your left and the moon on your right, the lingering kiss to your shoulder and the swirling fingers on your thigh — that you realize that maybe, they missed you more than you missed them.
And that maybe, you’re okay with this strange, insatiable dynamic of friendship. If you can even call it that.
After all, what are best friends for?
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