stranger things oneshots

*steve/eddie/reader* givin the dog a bone

Word count- 4482

Genre- smut.. jus pure smut 

Warnings- threesome, double penetration, drug use 

(i figured i repay yall for being gone this late wit some smut bc why not)

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It began with him blowing smoke in your mouth. The pungent earthiness and sting of smoldering embers left you feeling as if you had just inhaled from the inside of a tree on fire, the tendrils of smoke kissing your lips as he did, his breath also lingering of hoppy, wheat-based beers that made your stomach turn at the acidity juxtaposing the overly sweet, waxy multicolored bowl of children's cereal he had crunched between his molars and gulped down the pink and blue-tinted, sweetened milk earlier. You inhaled as best as you could with him being so close and your cheeks burning from that as well as the cheap, bitter boxed red wine you downed multiple times in a red solo cup, sucking in the thick smoke and consequently choking slightly on it, but getting a descent puff in your lungs to hold down. The effects it had on you came quickly, the cold rush numbing your lips and making you feel light. You stared down at Eddie Munson with a dazed look, and giggled, causing him to grin back at you.

"That's a good girl..." He purred, his puffy lips pressing together before asking, "you want some more?"

The rhythmic, fast-paced beats of synth pop pounded through the house, reverberating off of the walls and buzzing through the matted carpets, people swarmed the minimal space, lining the halls and crowding the living room with lips smeared by loaded nachos, scooping globs of half-dried, sticky artificial cheese onto the fried chips followed by white and green flecked sour cream that was just a tad too sour. You were at Steve Harrington's house, taking comfort in Eddie Munson's company while your boyfriend got lost in the crowd and the attention. It made you feel small, though you had opted to take a break from socializing, swatting him away with genuine reassurance that you would rejoin him, however, that landed you on the couch, sipping on your wine, and as if he had been lurking this whole time, sniffing you out like a wolf to an injured lamb in the springtime, Eddie had pushed through the crowd and appeared right in front of you, nearly standing between your legs before you dragged your eyes up the length of his black skinny jeans, chains, belt, and the ripped, sleeveless muscle shirt he wore, a faded flannel wrapped around the cinched angle of his hip bones. Carrying a beer, he lifted his brow down at you with a smirk, the spirals of chocolate chair fluffed around his angular face hitting his shoulders, before plopping down next to you, too close, and leaned in close. He was drunk, if not tipsy, his usual shyness and awkwardness turning into a confidence you hadn't come face to face with yet. It sent a rippling shiver down your spine that tightened your posture, but you didn't move away. Instead, your face heating up, you inhaled a lungful of his cologne and scrunched your nose.

"What?!" You shouted back at him.

"I SAID! What's a pretty girl like yourself doing all alone on the couch of a party?"

"I'm just taking a break!"

"Overstimulated? Sorry-overwhelmed?" He giggled, the pitch that of a hyena. You stared at him with wide eyes, watching as he wrapped the pout of his soft lips around his beer and took a swig that jutted his sharp Adam's apple up. The action caused you to rip your attention away and shake the thought of biting him off. Not knowing where those thoughts were coming from. Sure, you always found him cute, from afar, but there had always been an annoyance toward his behavior, a disdain toward his wildness. You blamed this heat in your belly on the wine and took another gulp.

"What do you want?" You blurted out.

"Your neglect radiates, babe."

You gasped. "I am not neglected!"