#joe quinn gif

[gracieheartspedro]

Cherry Stems

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k

description: eddie rejects your advances because his friends are around. so you use them to your advantage. piss eddie off and maybe you'll get what you want. maybe.

warnings: MDNI! 18+ only pls, age not specified but i imagine eddie/reader are 20+, porn without much plot, major teasing, reader is a brat, mentions of eating food, reader has no food aversions, nicknames, reader is flirting with eddie's bandmates, jealousy, possessiveness, name calling, face grabbing, eddie is lowkey a dom, unprotected p in v, fingering (vaginal), oral fixation, eddie puts his fingers in your mouth a lot, reader gets off on being bullied, orgasm denial, cum play, cum eating.... think that's it.

author’s note: hi i wrote this in one night. i am a whore for eddie, what else can i say. i'm also down to take requests, so if you see this, hey, send me an ask. maybe i'll cave and do some. as always, thanks bestie girl @amanitacowboy for helping me with this. let's never forget how much of a whore we are for this man. it keeps me (in)sane <3

Eddie had been teasing you all night and it was really starting to get to you. 

After a pretty electric performance at The Hideout, Eddie and his friends decided that they were hungry for some burgers from the empty Shiny Diner nearby. You had already had enough of Eddie’s shit at this point, so as soon as you sat next to him in the big half moon shaped booth, you knew it was game on. 

From eyeing you while he sang filthy lyrics from the stage, to the way he was working his hand up the hem of your dress when you sat at the bar, Eddie was truly being a menace. When the band got loud in the car on the way to the diner, you decided to make your move. You had rested your hand on Eddie’s crotch while sitting in the bucket seat next to him. While Eddie loved giving a good show, he was not keen on letting his friends see you in such a way. So he brushed your hand away and gave you the ‘not now’ eyes. 

You were for him and him only.

It aggravated you to no end, watching him rejoin the conversation with the guys, while you crossed your arms in disappointment.

But you were going to push some buttons tonight. You were going to get him back.

Gareth, Jeff, and Grant were all very sweet boys. Each of them have never been nothing but respectful of you. Gareth had known you longer than Eddie and he was actually the one who introduced you two. Jeff was usually a know-it-all, but he never dared question anything you said. And Grant… he was just quiet. Always following along with the antics and very well mannered. 

While you respected all the boys back, you also knew they found you attractive and that you could take advantage of that. After one specific smoke session together a couple months back, Eddie asked them all if they had a crush on you. He only ever said things like that to make them squirm. Teasing each other was the way they showed their love for one another. He also liked to remind people that they never stood a chance with you. And they all said that of course they found you pretty, but they would not dare go after you. 

Well, for one night only, you would give them believe they had a chance. Just to piss off Eddie. 

You had done this before. A year into your relationship, you had unintentionally made him jealous and it led to the most mind blowing sex of your life. The sex was so memorable that you do not even remember how you made him jealous. 

You needed that just about now. 

You were the only group there along with the waitress and line cook, so you were not worried about making a scene. You game plan how you were going to achieve such a feat as you scan the diner menu. You already knew what you wanted, but spotting the milkshakes on the list of drinks, a light bulb went off in your brain. 

The older waitress took down the boy’s order while you sat quietly staring at the menu. When it came down to you, you look up at the white haired woman and smiled. 

“One chocolate shake, extra whip cream and cherries, please.” You hand her the menu and glance over at a confused Eddie. You usually got a Dr. Pepper and a cheeseburger value meal, hold the lettuce. 

“Not hungry, baby?” He asks, reaching out for your black painted nails. You slide your hand away, acting like you are reaching for something in your purse. 

“Just wanna try something new.”

You pull your lipgloss out, still not looking over at Eddie. You twist off the top, placing the applicator on the middle of your bottom lip as your eyes flicker over to Grant’s. He is not paying much mind to anything, his eyes looking towards the window behind you. When he takes note of your gaze, he finally looks at you. 

You swipe the gloss across your lips, smirking devilishly. 

“What did you get, Grant?”

He thinks for a beat, realizing even he forgot what he ordered. “Uh… BLT with onion rings.”

You smack your lips together, rubbing your top lip on the bottom one painfully slow. 

“You gonna share your onion rings?”

He was not expecting the question, his lips curling upward before he chuckles. You can feel Eddie’s body stiffen as you ask the question. 

Grant nods, though, “Of course. You can have some-” “Baby, you’re not gonna eat his food.” You shoot a glare at Eddie, tossing your gloss back in your pocketbook. “Grant said I could, so… yeah I am.”

Eddie’s eyes search yours, trying to figure out what you are trying to do. You disguise your pleasure at his curiosity, rolling your eyes and pointing your attention at Jeff. He’s positioned right next to Grant, fiddling with his fingers. Before you can press him with a question, the waitress comes and puts down your drinks. She’s missing your milkshake. 

“That’ll be out in just a moment,” She says, grabbing her tray as she returns behind the counter, seemingly preparing your shake. You watch Jeff fiddle with his straw wrapper and you finally decide to bother him next. 

“Is that Dr. Pepper?” You ask, already knowing the answer. Jeff always got Dr. Pepper, just like you. It’s something you two bonded over often. He just nods, taking a sip of the bubbly beverage. You look over at the waitress quickly, seeing she’s still fiddling with the milkshake blender. 

You grab Jeff’s ice cold glass, your eyes glistening with innocence, “You mind if I have a sip? I’m parched.” And of course he’s too confused to say no. You pull the drink over and once it crosses to your side of the table, Eddie’s hand presses into your bare thigh. You do not react, taking Jeff’s straw into your mouth and sucking in a big sip, your eyes never leaving his. Once you pull the plastic away, you smirk. 

“Thanks, hun.” You push the drink back to him slowly. His cheeks heat up instantly when he notices your lipgloss on the tip of the straw. Eddie’s hand only squeezes more, trying to get you to look over at him. 

He wanted your attention so bad, his body curving closer to you. You can feel his gaze stuck onto the side of your face. 

Before anyone says anything else, the white haired lady returns with your chocolate shake. You giddedly grab the glass and stuff a straw into the frozen drink. 

You use your tongue to toy with the end of the straw, pulling it into your open mouth. Your eyes flicker away from Jeff and take aim at Gareth, who’s seated right across from you. Since he’s known you so long, you can already read on his face that he knows what you are up to. He may be a nice guy, but he too loves to fuck with Eddie. 

He was going to help you in whatever way possible. Instead of you initiating conversation, he speaks up. 

“Chocolate, huh? Thought you’d like vanilla.” Your eyebrow quirks up. You know Eddie’s face is bright red next to you. The heat radiating from him is pressing into your shoulder and thigh. 

“You got me pegged as a vanilla girl? That’s a bit offensive, Gare,” You smile, calculating your next move. You look down at the pile of whipped cream on the top of the shake. You drag your pointer finger across the top, gathering the cream all around it. 

You hear Eddie whispering beside you. “You better fuckin’ not.”

You smile, bringing your finger to your lips, not peeling your eyes from Gareth. You know the tension is palpable because Gareth’s smile is only widening when you lick the cream off your finger. 

The other guys are gawking at you at this point. You were putting on a show and they could not even fathom that it was happening before their very eyes. 

Gareth finally says something, nodding at the milkshake. “And extra cherries?”

“Gareth-,” Eddie’s voice fades over yours. 

“Oh yeah! You know I can tie the stems with my tongue?”

Eddie’s rings are going to be imprinted on your leg with how tightly he’s gripping onto you. You grab one of the cherries, getting your fingers covered in more whipped cream. You lean your head back a bit, your nose facing the old tile ceiling. You drop the cherry in your mouth, stem up. Tilting your head back, facing Gareth, you pull the cherry off the stem between your teeth. It’s unbelievably sensual the way you chew the red fruit. 

You show each of the boys the stem, even Eddie. When you glance over at him, you do not believe you have ever seen him so annoyed. He’s not hiding it well. You drop the stem on your tongue, returning your gaze over to Gareth. 

You roll the stem around, using your teeth slightly to do the stupid party trick you learned in 10th grade to impress a boy. It’s not impressive when every hot girl in school could do it, too. But nonetheless, it was something you could do to layer on the eroticism of the moment. 

When it’s tied, you contemplate taking it out of your mouth and showing it off. Maybe even drop it in Eddie’s hand. Instead, you decide to just extend your tongue out and show the stem on the very tip of your tongue. 

The color drains from Eddie’s face. It’s the end of the show for him. 

He grabs your forearm, ripping you out of the booth. You look back at Gareth, who’s still smiling, all the while Jeff and Grant look even more confused.  

When the fresh air hits you when he slams the glass door open, you flick your head to the side and spit out the stem in the gravel. His grip is so tight around your arm as he drags you to the van. It’s parked on the far side of the lot, occupying a spot that’s backed up to some woods. 

“What is wrong?”

Asking such a question only pisses him off further. Once you reach the van, his left hand flings the side door open. He practically tosses you onto the shag rug that lines the very back of the vehicle. 

“Are you fuckin’ with me right now?” His voice is intimidatingly deep.

Your legs hang out while Eddie stands over you, his hand resting on the top of the van. The back of your knees feel the sting of the frayed metal that hinges the door shut. You swallow, contemplating if you should continue messing with him. With the way he’s looking at you, you felt that this was not going to lead to the jealous sex you two had before. He’s actually angry. 

“You pushed my hand away when I wanted you earlier.”

Your voice is so small and unsure. His eyes narrow at you, his mouth slightly ajar in complete disbelief. The silence hanging in the air makes your heart rate increase. 

His mouth closes and you watch his jaw clench, “So you flirt with my friends right in front of me? Even when I explicitly said you better not.”

With his free hand, he swats your bare leg as you squeeze your thighs together. “Answer me.”

You watch the red mark appear on your flesh and decide to keep playing into the game. You had nothing to lose. If he’s actually angry, you could always have amazing make up sex instead. Eddie could not stay mad at you for too long. 

You shake your head, lifting your chin up in defiance. “All I did was tie a cherry stem.”

He does not accept that answer, slapping your thigh harder this time. 

You knew then that you had him where you wanted him. His eyes were giving him away. His pupils dilated as soon as he realized that you did not yelp at him slapping you around. 

Your eyes widen, watching him jump into the van beside you and dragging you back further. He slams the door, rattling the hunk of metal. The only light being let in is from the front windshield. A hazy warm lit streetlight only lights up Eddie’s face as he’s pining you to the ground. 

He positions himself between your legs, pushing the back of your thighs up with his knees. The skirt you chose for the occasion was pretty flowy, so it slid up your hips as soon as he props you up. “You want to act like a whore in front of my friends? All ‘cause I slapped your hand away earlier?”

His voice does not even sound like his. You hear the jiggling of his belt as he asks you the question. But the more twisted Eddie was, the more aroused you felt. You were drawn to him the first moment he teased you and bullied you a bit. You got off on him being callous. 

“Words. Now.”

You look down between your legs and see his cock springing free from his boxers as he shoves them down his thighs. You groan, the pulsating at your core coinciding with your heart rate. “Wanted to get your attention.”

He smacks your inner thigh, painfully close to your pantyline. You moan at the action, propping yourself up a bit more on your elbows. You watch as he carefully drags his pointer and middle finger under the hem of your lace. He smirks to himself, “That’s not what I fuckin’ asked.”

His fingers dip under your underwear, gathering the slick between your folds. You throw your head back, unable to hold back the sob as he spreads you open. You were putty in his hands, always bending to him. “Yes, Eddie.”

Your response leads to him sliding his fingers inside your cunt, a wet squelching noise filling both your ears. Your back thuds against the rug as your muscles give out under his touch. He fucks you with his fingers, the look on his face unreadable. He usually takes his time with foreplay, but this was different. He was testing how far he could take you in a limited amount of time. You were in a parking lot with his friends less than 500 feet inside, he could not take his time torturing you. 

His fingers retract from your pussy, gripping onto the lace of your panties and tearing them down your legs. When he sits back on his heels, you watch his long cock bounce with his movements. It sends a smile across your face. When he zeros in on you again, he tilts his head to the side. 

“I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t talk anymore.”

It makes you giggle at first, unsure if he’s really being serious. But when his face does not twist up into a smirk like it usually did, you realize you were in trouble. He takes ahold of his dick, leaning forward onto you. Your mouth falls open as you study Eddie dragging his tip between your slit, gathering as much of your wetness as he could. 

He sinks into you, raising your hips a bit to meet him straight on. The stretch is always overwhelming for you at first. You and Eddie fucked at least three times a week, but he always made you cum before shoving his cock deep inside you. Stretching you out for a couple minutes with two fingers is not enough for you. He hisses when he pulls back, his hands grasping onto you for dear life. 

He wastes no time setting a bruising pace. There’s no build up, he is simply taking his annoyance out on you. You are reaching out to anything around you, trying to find something to hold onto as he rams into you. You find a sweatshirt nearby, squeezing it as tight as you can as you breathe out to relax your pelvic muscles.

“Eddie, please-” You try to say, throwing your head forward. He shifts your hips a bit more, opening you up wider. As he does that, he rakes his hands upward, pushing your skirt up higher to your belly button. He shakes your head to your pleas. 

“Eddie, please.” He mocks, relocating his hand to squeeze your cheeks together. When your jaw unhinges, Eddie inspects your tongue as he drills into you. “Put my fingers in your mouth.”

“Ed-”

He sandwiches your face harder, cutting you off from being able to say anything. He fills your mouth with the two fingers that were plunging inside of you earlier. The taste of your own arousal is still present on his fingers as you swirl your tongue around the digits. You mewl as he grinds his pelvis into your clit. “Shut up,” he orders, his face centimeters from yours, “Now suck them while I fuck you.”

You have no way to talk back, so you do what he says. You hallow your cheeks out, lathering all your saliva around his fingers. The build up in the pit of your stomach only gets more intense when Eddie hoists your leg up over his shoulder. You clench around him, tears pricking your eyes as you vibrate his fingers with your moans. 

“Do not fuckin’ cum yet,” He warns, pulling his fingers in and out of your mouth. His hips are faltering as he chases his own climax. Your body feels like every nerve ending is about to implode under the pressure of you holding back your orgasm, and Eddie can sense that. He drags his fingers out from your lips, rubbing your own spit into your lips. He grabs your jaw with the same hand, pulling your face closer to his.

“Say you’re mine. You’re only gonna be mine.”

You nod, knocking his forehead slightly. “I’m only ever gonna be yours, Eddie.”

With your foreheads touching, you watch as he falls apart inside you. 

And with three vicious snaps of his hips, he spills his seed deep inside you. He does not let out a sound. His mouth is agape as deep heaves fan your face. 

When he finishes, he slides his cock out of you and sits back on his knees again. Him exiting your body is so frustrating, you want to scream.  

He uses one arm to hold your one leg back as spit covered fingers swipe up your cunt. His spend is leaking out of you and you know if he works his usual magic, you will cum in 30 seconds. 

“Please, Eddie. Please let me cum.”

He smirks villainously, “Why should I let you, hm?” He spreads your pussy lips, getting a good look as his cum dribbles down to your asshole.

You are getting desperate. You never had to beg Eddie to cum, ever. He was always so generous. 

“I promise I’ll be good. Please, please.” He chuckles dryly before sinking his fingers back into you. “Fine. Since you asked so pretty and promised to behave yourself.”

His fingers scissor into you, that familiar burn in the pit of your stomach returning. As his two fingers make work at your entrance, his thumb swipes your clit in meticulous circles. His bottom lip is tucked under his top teeth, watching you fall apart on his fingers. You are practically chanting his name as he brings you to your peak. 

When your chest heaves, finally relaxing from your orgasm, Eddie slides his digits out of you and brings them up to his plump pink lips. He licks them clean, just like you did with the whipped cream earlier. 

“Hm… Don’t see how Gareth thought you were a vanilla girl,” He states, smiling sinfully at you. “You, my dear, are a fuckin’ vixen.”

-

tags of friends who may like this idk (if you wanna be tagged in the future, just lemme know <3):

@hockeyhughes @pedgito @mediocredreams @the-unforgivenn

[joesquinns]

so soft pt. 166

[bumblebeeswrite]

Stick N' Poke | Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: After a night of smoking and bedroom escapades, you ask Eddie about his tattoos.

CW: fluff to the max, drug use, reader gets a tattoo (not in the most sanitary way), implied reader already has tattoos, includes the process of getting tattoo and the pain. Let me know if there's anything I missed!

Thanks for stopping by! This is my first blurb in years. It's also roughly unedited, so let me know if there's anything crazy lol. Hope you enjoy!

If you spent any more time here, you might as well have forwarded your mail. You now had a permanent drawer of clothes in his dresser, filled with the essentials. You had extra shampoo and an arsenal of curly hair products in the shower, plus an addition of a third tooth brush into the bathroom- a clear indication of your ever-growing presence. It wasn't just about the toiletries and clothes, though. It was about the comfortable rhythm you'd fallen into, the way your things were slowly but surely weaving themselves into the fabric of his space, and, by extension, his life.

Sure, you’d had boyfriends before, endured the awkward firsts and the inevitable fades, but this was something different. It wasn't just the shared space, though that certainly played a part. It was the effortless flow of your conversations, the comfortable silences, the way you just clicked. There was something about your dynamic that was addicting, and neither of you would have it any other way.

“Shhh!” You giggled when he did, your hand flying to his arm as Eddie, perched by the window, frantically waved a cloud of marijuana smoke into the night air. “You’re gonna wake your uncle up!” He grinned, taking another long drag from the joint before exhaling a plume of smoke directly into your face. "No, you are," he retorted, his cheeks flushed a rosy pink from a combination of the weed and laughter. 

"Do I have something on my face?" You asked, turning from the window to meet his gaze. Your brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of concern in your eyes. "No, no. Nothing like that, sunflower," he reassured you, his voice soft and warm. A slow smile spread across his face as he continued, "Was just lookin' at how beautiful you are."

The humor of the situation, the sheer absurdity of your whispered warnings while simultaneously trying to hotbox his room, was almost overwhelming. You covered your mouth to stifle a fresh wave of giggles, your eyes crinkling at the corners. Eddie passed you the joint, and you finished it off, carefully snubbing it out in the overflowing ashtray on his bedside table. "I really need to get you some candles before Wayne really starts getting annoyed," you murmured, eyeing the lingering haze.

But Eddie didn't respond. His gaze was fixed on you, a soft smile playing on his lips. Your curls, usually so carefully styled, were delightfully messy from their earlier escapades in bed, framing your face in a halo of unruly tendrils. You were kneeling on the floor, clad only in one of his worn-out Judas Priest t-shirts, the faded band logo stretched across your chest. Your eyes, slightly red-rimmed from the smoke, sparkled with laughter and something else, something warmer, something that made Eddie's heart ache in a way he couldn't quite explain. In that moment, surrounded by the lingering scent of weed and the soft glow of the moon filtering through the window, he thought you couldn't have looked more beautiful.

A fresh wave of laughter bubbled up from your chest, and you leaned forward, burying your face in Eddie's shoulder to muffle the sound. The contact sent a pleasant shiver through him.

"Shut up, Edward," You mumbled against his shirt, words laced with affection.

Eddie feigned a quiet gasp of offense, a playful glint in his eyes. He looked down at you, his hand gently cupping the back of your head, drawing you closer. He pressed a tender kiss to the crown of your head, inhaling the sweet scent of your hair. A contented sigh escaped his lips as he held you close, the quiet intimacy of the moment wrapping around you like a warm blanket

As you shifted in his arms, your eyes drifted down to his forearm. There was the cluster of bats, their delicate wings spread in permanent flight across his skin. It was your favorite of his tattoos, a small detail that always caught your attention. Your thumb traced the outline of one of the bats, a silent appreciation in the gentle touch. You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the inked skin.

"I like these," You murmured, your breath warm against his arm.

Eddie chuckled softly, a low rumble in his chest. He knew exactly which one you meant. "Thanks, sweetheart," he replied, a hint of pride in his voice. "Did 'em myself."

You looked up at him, your brow furrowed in curiosity. "You did them?" you asked, voice laced with surprise.

Eddie nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah. Wayne wouldn't let me get a real one before I was eighteen, so I learned how to do stick-and-pokes. The old-fashioned way."

"The prison way?" You quipped, barely suppressing another fit of laughter. The image of a younger Eddie meticulously tattooing himself in some makeshift prison setting was both amusing and oddly endearing.

Eddie tightened his grip on you, pulling you closer until you both fell back against the side of the bed. The sudden movement stole your breath, and you looked up at him, your eyes wide.

You both lay there for a long moment, wrapped in comfortable silence, the only sound the gentle rhythm of your breathing. Finally, you spoke again, voice soft and thoughtful.

“Do you think you could do one on me?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks. Eddie had always been a doodler, his sketches and doodles appearing on everything from scraps of paper to the surface of his desk, and even, occasionally, on your skin. The idea of having a piece of his art permanently etched onto you, a tangible reminder of him, sent a flutter of excitement through your chest.

Eddie paused, his gaze searching yours, trying to gauge your sincerity. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low and serious. "You know that shit don't come off."

You nodded quickly, eyes sparkling with excitement. "Yeah," You breathed, "that would be really cool, actually."

Eddie reluctantly released you, pushing himself up from the bed and heading over to his desk. He began rifling through scattered papers, his fingers sifting through the various sketches and doodles that littered the surface. He picked up a few, scrutinizing them with a critical eye, as if searching for the perfect design, the one worthy of a permanent place on your skin. The concentration on his face was intense, a clear indication of how seriously he was taking your request.

Finally, he pulled out a crumpled sheet of old homework, a large, vibrant sunflower sketched across the corner. A wide grin spread across his face as he carefully handed the paper to you. "A sunflower for my sunflower?" he asked, his voice soft and laced with affection.

He'd called you sunflower almost from the moment you met. When you had finally asked him why, he'd simply shrugged, a shy smile tugging at his lips. "You smell like a flower," he'd murmured, "and you feel like the sun." It was a simple explanation, yet it resonated with you in a way you couldn't quite articulate. It was him, perfectly capturing the essence of you in just a few words. So, a sunflower… it was perfect.

You nodded enthusiastically, eyes shining as you clutched the paper to your chest. "It's perfect, Eds! I love it!" You exclaimed, your voice filled with genuine appreciation.

A warm, loving smile spread across Eddie's face as he ducked under his bed, rummaging through a box hidden beneath. "Where do you want it?" he asked, poking his head out for a moment, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Right above my elbow," you replied, already rolling up the short sleeve of your right arm, exposing the smooth skin just above your elbow joint. You watched him, a mixture of excitement and anticipation bubbling inside you.

You watched as Eddie emerged from under the bed, a black marker clutched in his hand. He sat beside you, his brow furrowed in concentration as he carefully began to transfer his sunflower design onto the back of your arm. He worked slowly and deliberately, occasionally licking his finger to smudge away a line or two, redoing the parts he wasn't quite satisfied with. From the same box beneath his bed, he pulled out a half-empty bottle of black tattoo ink and a long, thin needle. "Might hurt, princess," he murmured, his voice quiet and a touch hesitant, as if you'd never experienced the prick of a needle before.

"Let me know if it's too much," he added, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. He quickly dabbed a bit of Vaseline onto your skin, preparing the area before carefully pouring some of the black ink into a small bottle cap. The ritual was familiar, yet the anticipation was different this time, charged with a deeper meaning.

Eddie dipped the tip of the needle into the bottle cap, the black ink clinging to the fine point. He took a breath, his gaze focused on the spot on your arm, before gently lowering the needle to your skin. He watched intently as the needle pierced the surface, disappearing momentarily before emerging again, leaving a tiny dot of ink in its wake. A sharp sting accompanied each poke, a familiar sensation, yet this time, it felt different. The warmth that bloomed in your chest, the heady rush of the high swirling in your mind, somehow overshadowed the physical discomfort. It stung, yes, but it was a manageable pain, a small price to pay for the permanent piece of him you were about to carry with you.

Eddie continued, his focus unwavering as he meticulously worked his way around the sunflower design. Each tiny prick of the needle was accompanied by a small, almost imperceptible flinch from you, but you remained steadfast, your gaze fixed on Eddie's face. He was so absorbed in the task, his brow furrowed in concentration, his lips pressed into a thin line. You could see the slight tremor in his hand as he worked, a testament to the delicate nature of the task and the importance he placed on it.

The rhythmic tap-tap-tap of the needle against your skin filled the otherwise silent room, punctuated only by the occasional intake of breath. The scent of the tattoo ink, mingled with the lingering aroma of weed and the faint sweetness of Eddie's cologne, created a unique and oddly comforting atmosphere. As the sunflower began to take shape, petal by petal, you felt a sense of anticipation building within. This wasn't just a tattoo; it was a symbol of your connection, a permanent reminder of this moment, of him.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Eddie pulled back, his hand hovering over her arm for a moment as he surveyed his work. He wiped away the excess ink, revealing the completed sunflower, its vibrant petals etched in black against your skin. He looked up at you, his eyes searching yours, a silent question hanging in the air.

You met his gaze, a soft smile gracing her lips. "It's perfect," you whispered, your voice filled with awe. "Thank you, Eddie."

He returned the smile, a look of relief and pride evident in his eyes. "You like it?" he asked, his voice still a little rough from concentration.

"I love it," you replied, tracing the outline of a petal with your fingertip. "It's beautiful."

“And I love you, sunflower.”

“That’s a relief. Because my neck is gonna be killing me for a month.”

He leaned in, gently pressing a kiss to the newly inked sunflower. "Now you'll always have a little piece of me with you," he murmured, his voice warm against your skin.

“I love you, Edward.”

[kassy-djomunson]

my sweet baby johnny storm is coming home to me!!!!

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

[stardancerluv]

Sorry for slight delay..my birthday & other shenanigans got in the way. Posting soon!

What the Emperor Wants

Part Fifteen

Summary: Revelations from the past, blessings move things forward.

Notes/Warnings: Angst, jealousy related to possible prior sexual activity, Invidia (goddess of Jealousy) mention of prior voice between Reader & another female servant, Blandus is a man who owned Reader, mentions of abuse from a father

❤️s, reblogs, feedback & comments are welcome! 💐 Let me know if you want to be tagged! 💐 Thank you for reading! 💐

You winced. You flinched.

“Sorry, my lady.”

“It’s ok.”

The pins pricking your skin were beginning to annoy you. You had never thought it would be this involved. When your older brother had been married, you were too young to be aware of all that was involved.

“Is our future empress decent?”

Your heart stilled, you glanced at the woman, fussing on her dress. After what had happened with him and Dundas the previous evening, you did not know what to expect next from Caracalla.

“Yes.” You swallowed.

There was a swish of fabrics and a soft, chirp that gave away to Dondas’s presence as well.

“Sire.”

The woman fluttered the material that hung on you before she quickly bowed and knelt.

You bowed as well, keeping your eyes down cast.

A soft chuckle, a sound you had only heard perhaps while he fed or watched the bouts in the arena.

“Look at you.” The usual malice was not there.

From what little you could see, he moved in a soft blur of the colorful fabrics.

“Leave us. Go to the hall. You can finish when we are done speaking.”

Dondas, chirped and squeaked. It almost sounded as if she was echoing what he had said.

“Yes, sire.” The woman whispered. The steps faded away.

“My future sister. I always wanted one.” He made a thoughtful sound.

Dondas chirped once again.

“You can look up.”

You did.

He actually looked soft. Like how did when he addressed Geta when he spoke of missing him. It was a rare sight.

“I have not liked you. Geta has never had favorites.”

You swallowed.

“He has always gotten the best so he never needed favorites.”

You pressed your lips together.

“However, last night Dondas;”

He paused and looked at her in an even softer manner.

“Dondas, appears to like you. Appears to feel that you are worthy to be empress along side my brother and myself.”

Dondas, clapped on his shoulder.

Maybe there was more to his little monkey than everyone knew, you mused. You never known such an animal to be so in touch with those around it. Perhaps, a horse maybe or the chickens when you would sing to them. But never an animal such as this. You were grateful for it though.

“She accepts you, I accept.”

You moved to show respect to what he said and to Donas.

“I am grateful.” You finally whispered.

He nodded. Then he took a step that was quicker than you could breathe and he was in front of you.

“If you are planning to harm Geta, Dondas or me. It will be an action you will regret.”

He chewed on his bottom lip, glancing at Dondas before looking back at you. Dondas, you watched clutch his clothing.

“I will have the Praetorian guard hang your entrails and your head. I will tell the world of your betrayal.”

Fear, crawled down your back. He so easily could switch from being so soft to as sharp as any solider’s blade.

“There is no betrayal in my heart sire.”

A smile crossed his face once again, Dondas even gently patted his cheek.

“Good. Now, I shall have you return to having your clothing prepared for the celebration, wedding of you and my brother.”

“Thank you.”

Once more there was a blur and soft whisper of the clothes that hung on him and be was gone.

******

“Was she tested?”

He was used to his mother fairly well composed, calm even but she was the opposite of that right now. He wasn’t sure how he felt seeing her in such a manner.

“Has she paid a visit to Asclepiades?”

“Yes, mother.”

Nothing made him feel more like a child than when having to answer to her. Her doubting his wishes, made knots form in his stomach. He did not want his anger get the best of him.

“You took notice of her in the royal box?” Her voice growing shrill.

He nodded.

“Why not the streets?” She sneered.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

His mother whirled around, the fabrics fanning out, some of her jewelry clinked dramatically. She took a step towards him, her eyes narrowed.

“It’s good your father is dead. He’d have words with you.”

“More like the back of his hand would be meeting my face, my mouth to silence me.” He muttered, remembering the few words exchanged but the hits that were and the ones that landed.

“Don’t speak ill of him, he is dead.”

“He is. I’m not. I speak the truth, I’m sure we will argue once the boat takes me the side of the river he now is on.” He replied cooly.

“I have to agree, I am certain that will happen too.” She pressed her lips together. “If I’m being honest, I had thought if you were going to marry anyone, I would have thought it would have been Tertia.”

“Seriously? She is nothing more than a vessel, you gave Caracalla and I. When, she preferred him over me I looked elsewhere.“

“She did?”

“She has a thirst for blood that drew her to him. So she easily went to him. I lost interest.”

He shrugged.

“Perhaps, it was the guiding of the gods. His illness could have been a resulting of bedding her.”

“I had never known, the servants whispered differently. “

“Because I carried on the appearance of the bedding. It ensnared her but I never allowed anything further.”

She shook her head. “You were always very smart. Knowing of your rightful place in our world.”

He allowed himself to enjoy the compliment. They were so scarce.

“She is smart as well.”

He met his mother’s eyes directly.

“You would find her amusing.”

“Great.” She rolled her eyes. “Exactly, what is needed a smart and amusing empress.” She sneered.

“Did word also reach you, that she did save my life.”

Geta, could see her pause. Something shifted in her stormy eyes

“What?”

“Not too long ago, an assassin crept into my chambers. She stopped him, then the next day I delivered justice.”

“Good.” She paused. “But how do you know, she wasn’t in on it?”

“I know.”

He pressed his lips together, he eyed the vase near him. He wished he could throw it. An anxiousness came over him, he wished he could expel it.

******

Relief, filled you as you slipped into the stola you had started the day in. You were finally getting used to how slip on these more luxurious ones. They were not as complicated as you first thought.

Aelia, had laid it out for you while you had bathed. It was so lovely and soft. A smile played on your lips as you grazed your finger tips along the fabric. You could have never imagined anything feeling like this, it was as gentle as a breeze.

As you walked over to where the sol shone in and flowers grew; you were grateful your time with the woman who was working on your wedding tunic and veil were finished. The pins were getting too much.

Despite, the all the people that were now in the royal domus, you were able to make your way over to where flowers grew and the sol shone in. Kneeling down, you brought a flower to your nose and sighed. Their fresh scent was very pleasing.

“My sweet blossom, I was hoping I’d see you.”

Geta’s voice came from behind you, your heart beat harder in your chest. Turning, you saw him standing near one of the mighty columns.

You stood with a quick glance around, you went over to him. You wanted to reach out, take his hand but you didn’t.

“There are whispers that my brother spoke with you.”

You nodded. “There was no anger when he did.”

“Oh?”

“From what he said, you never played favorites and he had not liked it when you did it with me.”

Geta, shook his head. “That illness, that illness…”

His gaze went beyond you, he rung his ringed hands. His words were stuck in his mouth.

“Yes.” You gave him a worried glance before continuing. “He feels that since Dondas accepted me as empress, he should as well.”

His eyes drew back to you, they grew. You finally reached out and took one of his hands. It was heavy with the rings but was cool to the touch.

“Dondas?”

You nodded.

He swallowed. “It makes his thoughts and reasoning a mess.” He sighed. His hand moved within your grasp so that now he could hold your hand.

“Yes, but Geta at least he has finally accepted me. This will make our wedding not as difficult. I wouldn’t want him to have a fit during or after during the celebration.”

“True, very true. Though, now there is there is my mother. She has questions.” He pressed his lips together once more. “And your brother, he rides to the city. What if he disapproves?”

You went with what you felt in your heart. You had seen the man. When he came to your small room, telling you he was yours fear had filled you. He was not as fearsome or terrible like the whispers had spoke of. Now with him in front of you, saw beyond all the stories, you saw beyond his anger that took ahold at times.

“Geta, you are the emperor of Rome. You have chosen me.”

Your heart clenched.

“The gods guide you, they speak through you. They brought you to me. I will follow you always. No mortal, will stop me.”

He smiled then. His hand reached up and cupped your cheek. “I did.” His thumb caressed your cheek. “And I will always thank the gods for their guidance.”

*******

Your words had hit him, it had pleased him that he had chosen so well. He was entering a new part of his life. Becoming a husband, would add an interesting part of who he was.

Pacing and turning the rings on his fingers he mused on what laid ahead.

He knew the people of Rome were fickle. But he kept them fed and entertained. Acacius, was a loyal and fantastic General. His brother and his illness clung to him. He wish there was something that could be done. At least Dondas, despite it being an animal appeared to bring him calmness.

******

You stood straight as the woman walked around you, looking you up and down. All you wore before her was the bracelet and ring, Geta had given you.

She had given Geta, his sharp eyes sharp eyes.

“Your skin is very smooth, unblemished.”

“Yes, Empress dowager.”

She drew close. She smelled like honeysuckle and lavender, it was oddly comforting despite the menacing air that hung around her.

“How did you come to Rome?”

“I said goodbye to my mother, little brother with a small loculus that held some food, a few coins and a small length of ribbon and cloth my mother twined together, to remember my family. And off I walked.”

She rose an eyebrow. “How did you manage to work in the royal box?”

“A man, Blandus seeing my potential took me in. He taught me how serve wine, small dishes and how stand in the shadows. From there a day came, and Tertia who I now see fluttering around here had taken ill one day or Blandus wished me to take her days in the royal box.”

“I see. And you had said to my son, you never laid with a man. You never laid with this Blandus?”

“Never, he enjoys the company of men.”

“Interesting. Tertia, you say?”

An expression, you could not read washed over her face.

“I believe she may have laid with my sons.”

Knowing, Tertia could have laid with Geta sparked an anger in you, you were not familiar with. You swallowed.

“Do you not like her?”

“I only know little of her. She has a fury, I wish to not ignite it.”

You remember, she had ripped at your braids the day at the end of her illness when her strength came back. She was practically a mortal version, of Invidia. News, had come to her of your presence in the royal box. If it had not been for some weakness from when she was ill, you were convinced she could have hurt you more.

“She did seem to have a level of determination. When the dispatch had reached my gates, that my son was to marry I thought it would have been to her. I had never heard of you.”

The spark within you grew to a flame that would grew and flicker from a candle.

“I am to flutter about like a butterfly with exquisitely delicate and colorful wings to bring the pleasure of a good wine, cheese or fruit to those I was to serve. I would never intrude on any of the whispers in the royal box or any place I was told to be.”

The woman smiled then. “My son, whose first love was poetry spoke of the beauty of your words.”

A pleased warmth came over you dampening the anger filled flame.

“That was quite beautiful.” Her smile grew. “I am glad I have only now heard of you. Get dressed.”

********

You were in your room once again dressing. Exhaustion had a firm grip on you. From the pin pricks than followed the words of empress dowager about Tertia whirled in you. A part of you knew it should not be felt, he had chosen you afterall.

“Blossom, today was a day of many blessings.”

Geta’s voice reached you, despite you not even hearing the door opening. You turned to receive him, a soft warmth filled his face.

“Dondas and Caracalla were the first;” a soft chuckle broke his lips. “and now that of my mother.”

He was serious once more but not any less happy looking.

“Blessings abound.” You smiled, your stomach lurching.

You noticed a stillness come over him. “Is there something lurking or casting a shadow upon you?”

“Your mother spoke of things that brought the cloud of concern to me.”

You had promised to follow him, you would tell him.

“My mother does have a manner that stirs emotions, what did she say?”

He took a step closer to you.

@honey-eyed-munson @amethyst-serenade @laura-naruto-fan1998 @screaming-blue-bagel @kitkat80 @blondie324 @alyisdead @hellomadamebutterfly @helsa3942 @marrowfrog00 @misspendragonsworld @therealjomarch @deliciousfestsalad @aspiringcokewhore @justalittlebitshy

[fyeaheddiemunson]

Dissociation vs Overstimulation

[whereisyourpippinnow]

JOSEPH QUINN as GETA | part 1

Gladiator II (2024) dir. Ridley Scott

[underthecanyonmoonx]

No because why did he look so good in this scene specifically. Like all he’s doing is opening a cabinet to grab spaghettiOs and he looks unbelievable. The fluffiness of his hair? His face. I never see anyone talk about this.

[kwistowee]

@stcreators event 07: comedy

[sweeteststing]

Ovulation is so bad, i need to fuck them both

[trulyumai]

an arrow of might

—synopsis: an arrow struck through the crowd, past the display of people and aimed for your head. geta was furious.

pairing: Emperor geta / Empress! reader

—warnings: violence, talk of death, protective Geta

enjoy!

The Colosseum was alive with a frenzy of noise and movement, the sun beating down mercilessly on the sand-strewn arena. The clash of steel, the roars of beasts, and the cheers of thousands of spectators created a tempest of sensory overload. Amid this chaos, you were absorbed in the delicate task of caring for your young son, who was captivated by the spectacle unfolding before him.

Geta, seated in his position of authority, kept a vigilant eye on the arena, but his gaze frequently shifted towards you and the child. The violence below, while meant to display Rome’s might, was unsettling, and you could not shake the feeling of anxiety gnawing at your heart.

Without warning, the atmosphere shifted abruptly. The roar of the crowd intensified, shifting to panicked shouts and cries. Your pulse quickened as you saw an arrow slicing through the air, its trajectory erratic and alarming. Time seemed to slow as it arced dangerously towards you.

Instinctively, you pulled your son close, shielding him with your body. The arrow whizzed past, embedding itself with a sickening thud into the wooden frame of your chair. Your heart leapt to your throat as you glanced around in shock, the enormity of the danger sinking in.

Geta’s reaction was immediate and fierce. His eyes, usually calm and composed, now blazed with protective fury. He sprang into action, his authoritative presence cutting through the crowd with decisive urgency. Each powerful stride was driven by the primal need to protect his family. His voice, usually steady, now carried a note of raw command.

“Protect her!” Geta bellowed, his tone slicing through the chaos. His personal guards, trained for such moments, formed an impenetrable barrier around you and your son, their weapons drawn and their eyes scanning for any further threat.

The world seemed to constrict to a singular focus: Geta and the peril surrounding you. You held your son tightly, his small frame trembling against you. His wide, frightened eyes met yours, and the sight of his innocent fear only deepened your own.

Geta reached your side in a heartbeat, his face etched with a fierce blend of relief and anxiety. “Are you hurt?” he demanded, his voice strained with concern as he knelt beside you, his hands carefully examining not only your face, but the space around you.

“I’m fine,” you managed to get out, your voice shaky but resolute. “But the arrow...”

Geta’s gaze followed the path of the arrow, his expression darkening with a protective rage. “Stay down,” he instructed firmly, though his voice was gentler, coaxed with honey and warmth to your scared being. He signaled one of his guards to remove the arrow while another scanned the stands, his eyes never leaving you.

The crowd’s murmur grew to a tense, expectant silence. The sudden intrusion of danger had shifted the mood dramatically. You looked up at Geta, whose normally stern features were now a mask of fierce protectiveness. He reached out to steady you, his touch both reassuring and urgent.

“I’m.. sorry,” Geta murmured, his voice breaking slightly as he looked into your eyes. “I should have been more careful.. to think I would bring you to such a spectacl—.”

“No,” you interrupted, voice trembling with a mix of fear and gratitude. “You protected us. You kept us safe.”

Geta’s gaze softened as he regarded his son, who clung to you with wide, terrified eyes. The arrow, now removed and inspected, was a stark reminder of how fragile safety could be. The danger had been real and immediate, and its impact was palpable.

With a resolute nod, Geta turned to his guards, issuing sharp commands to heighten security and ensure the safety of everyone present. His concern for you and your son was palpable, yet so was his unwavering commitment to maintaining order.

“Are you certain you’re alright?” Geta asked again, his eyes searching yours with a depth of concern that spoke volumes.

“Yes,” you assured him, though your voice was barely more than a whisper. “I’m just shaken.”

He nodded, his face returning to its usual mask of authority, though his gaze remained tender as it rested on you. “We’ll leave as soon as the games conclude. Your safety is my foremost concern.”

The spectacle continued below, but its appeal had been tainted by the recent events. Geta’s protective presence was a comforting shield, a reminder of his dedication and love. As you held your son close, enveloped by Geta’s unwavering vigilance, a profound sense of relief and gratitude washed over you.

In the midst of chaos and danger, the strength and love of your family had proven to be the greatest shield of all.

[overweightmermaid83]

My love

JOSEPH QUINN as MICHAEL in Hoard

[pedgito]

JOSEPH QUINN as EMPEROR GETA Gladiator 2, dir. Ridley Scott

[gracieheartspedro]

Cotton Mouth

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 6.6k

description: you need a new dealer and you know a guy through the unfortunate grapevine you used to be wrapped up in. but I mean... the banter is great, and you cannot help but fall for him. but don't fret, he feels the same way.

warnings: MDNI! 18+ only pls, marijuana use is a huge theme, reader smokes, reader is 19/20 and so is eddie, eddie is a drug dealer, major flirting and banter, mentions of cults, mentions of human sacrifice and blood/sex rituals, eddie and reader jokingly call him 'leader', pet names (sweetheart, baby), reader gets cotton mouth, unprotected p-in-v, eddie cums inside, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, oral (m!receiving), choking (m!receiving)

author’s note: what the fuck am i doin' here you ask? good question. I don't know. but I'm glad this is not rotting my brain. i like writing for eddie!!! he makes me blush!!! shut up!!! okay, anyway, thank you @amanitacowboy like always for helping me beta this and also being so encouraging every time i get obsessed with writing something. bitches really be moaning for this one.

also happy birthday, joe. ha ha ha.....

how to help palestine ~ dividers by @cafekitsune

You never expected to contact Eddie Munson for your drug needs. 

When your dealer skips town because of suspicion of drug smuggling over state lines, you call up your former best friend’s ex boyfriend to give you your usual. 4 grams to last you through your stressful work week and to make sure your tolerance does not drastically fall to the lowest of lows. 

You had not been in school for two years and you knew that Eddie had successfully dropped out the year prior. After a chaotic last year, he was basically a recluse, only dealing to his usual clients. Luckily, you were still friends with Gareth, who in turn, put you in contact with Eddie again. 

After a humiliating senior year, you had practically become a recluse as well. You found a job at the Sheriff’s office where you sat at a desk all day and filed paper work, hardly talking to anyone. You would go back to your parent’s house and smoke weed until the sun set and then you would do it all over again. 

You hated this stupid life you fell into since you neglected to go to college, so you numbed the anxieties with marijuana. 

That’s where Eddie comes in. 

You meet him by Lover’s Lake. A picnic table that you used to sit at as a small child and play in the lake with your cousins and friends. The air is crisp, the leaves falling all around you. He pulls up in his rickety old van and stumbles out with his usual smirk. 

“Fancy seein’ you here,” He practically giggles as he settles across from you at the table. He was the same Eddie you remembered from senior year. His hair is a bit longer, but still cut in the same way. Long frizzy curls with long bangs across his forehead. His style is the same, as well. Ripped black jeans and random torn up metal band t-shirt. The rings were a bit excessive now, but the silver jewelry matched the chain on his pants. He was coordinated at the very least. “Hey, Munson,” You smirk, finally relaxing your shoulders. “Been awhile.” “Yeah, last I saw you was the night Lori dumped my ass,” He says it so blase, not really noting your tonal shift, “Good times.” Your heart sinks hearing your former best friend’s name fall from his lips. You glance down at the carvings on the wooden table, trying to disguise your disgust. He notices your demeanor shift. “Sorry, didn’t mean to bring her up. Gareth told me about-” You don’t want to hear it. You don’t want to hear about how she fucked up your life, your plans, your former relationship, anything. Rehashing it led nowhere for you. You put your hand in the air, signaling him to stop speaking. “She fucked my boyfriend, yep,” You state bluntly, finally glancing up at him. “You’re selling me weed, right?”

Eddie’s eyes widen at your rush to change the subject, instantly going back to the reason he was actually sitting in front of you. As much as he wanted to chat with his long time secret crush, he knew that you were only here for one thing. He could tell the personal topic was not on the table. 

“Right, this is not therapy,” He practically whispers to himself. He pulls out a baggie of weed, more than 4 grams for sure. “Got this much. How much do you want?”

You scope out the baggie. The bud looked good, the same color as the last stuff you used to get from the random guy down the street from you. It’s not that you did not trust Eddie, you just were hesitant towards most guys in Hawkins. You had been screwed so many times. “I usually got 4 grams from my last dealer.” He nods, pulling open the bag and pulling out a couple pieces of the bud. He seems to be just eyeballing, which worries you. You know how much 4 grams looks like, so you watch him with a careful eye. “You know how much that is?” “Yes, I can usually eyeball it. Don’t you worry, sweetheart.” The nickname sends butterflies shooting through your tummy. You look up from his fingers, up to his neck, where you spot a couple hickies. You smirk, shaking your head at the idea Eddie’s getting girls. It was such a shift from his early high school days, when you knew him. Back then, he was such a nervous loser that he could hardly land your friend. You always thought she dated him because she pitied him. You had no clue he was only acting like that because he secretly wanted you, not her. 

You watch him put the distributed bud in a baggie for you. “I’ll do $8 per gram, for you. Dealer’s discount.”

You raise your eyebrows, looking at the overstuffed bag. “$32?”

He looks up at you, a goofy smile on his face. “She’s a math whiz, how cute.”

If your eyes could roll out of your head, they would in that moment. He was always snarky. You enjoyed it though. You always loved bickering with him because it would usually end with you two in a fit of giggles. He never took you seriously, and you vice versa. You pull your wallet out of your black leather purse and pull out two twenty dollar bills. “Here’s $40.”

He hands you the baggie as you hand him the cash. You hand pulls away a bit, but his lingers on the bag, keeping your hand close to his. The action is dragged out, a bit too long for comfort. You glance at him, noticing his dropping smile. 

“You haven’t changed a bit.” You do not know if it’s a jab or a compliment. You tilt your head at him, trying to see if his face changes at all at your discontent. But he still has a half-smirk painted across his stupidly cute face. You yank your hand away with the plastic bag, slamming it on the wooden tabletop. “God, I hope I have. I used to be flat chested and annoying.” He throws his head back in laughter, enjoying the slight fun you poke at yourself. You never noticed how loud and booming his laugh is until you two are outside, alone in the quiet woods. “Still funny,” He chuckles, shutting his metal lunch box of goodies, “Never annoying.” You bite your lip, trying to refrain from entertaining the conversation further, but you cannot help yourself. “But still flat chested?”

More giggles, this time more toned down, due to the fact that he’s now looking down at your chest. “Jury’s out on that one.”

You smile, trying not to let on that you are actually enjoying this interaction even when it started off a bit rocky. You tuck your baggie of weed into your purse, making sure it’s buried underneath all your random necessities. You look back at him and he’s still eyeing you with a cocky grin. 

“Well, it was nice doin’ business with you, Munson. Do you mind if I,” You lick your lips, contemplating if you should refrain the question. You stick to your original formulated word vomit, “call you again if I need a reup?” His eyes twinkle at the idea of you calling him. “Sure thing. As long as I get to call you if I’m in need of some conversation.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, completely taken aback from his up front suggestion. You did not mind the idea of talking to him more. Frankly, you needed a friend that was not your high school aged sister. You hadn’t been successful making any new friends. This was your way to do so. 

“I’ll talk to you tonight, then?” His smirk drifts, “Sure thing, sweetheart.”

-

You are smoking a bowl when your landline in your phone starts ringing loudly. You haphazardly stand up and rush to it, picking it up in 5 seconds flat. 

“Hello?” When he clears his throat, you know who it is immediately. “Evenin’, princess.”

You smirk, letting some of the smoke out of your lungs. “Who’s this?”

You can imagine the grin plastered across his face as he responds. He had a very good smile. 

“The boogeyman.” You play into the antics. You do not know any better, “Eddie Munson! What are you doin’ callin’ me at this hour?”

“Just callin’ to see if you smoked the stuff yet?”

You breathe out and inhale to clear your lungs before you start coughing directly in his ear.

“Sure am, right this very second.”

His dry chuckle sends shockwaves through your body. “Is it good enough for you?” You wrap your phone’s cord around your finger as you start pacing your bedroom. You used to do this type of thing when you were on the phone with a boy you liked as a teen. Was this not the same thing?

“So far, so good. I will report back if there’s anything awry.”

He’s quiet for a moment which makes your stomach a bit uneasy. “Well… I’m about to start lighting up myself, you mind keeping me company?”

-

Eddie calls you every time he smokes. For four days straight. 

You two talk about everything. The way you hated your job. The way he hates living with his uncle still. You both vent your frustrations about the state of the world while smoking a bong or a bowl, giggling from time to time when one of you chokes on the smoke. It was usually always him. 

By day four, you were on your last pack in your bowl that morning. You smoked before work, hoping the bloodshot eyes would not raise any eyebrows. 

When Eddie calls that night and you are not smoking with him, he gets worried. “Taking a break, sweetheart?” “I smoked my last bit this morning.” The confession rattles him. You told him before that you would let him know when you needed more. He feels like he’s neglected your needs. And Eddie hates feeling like a failure, especially for you. 

“Do you need me to drop by with more?” 

You have not had a boy in your room since your stupid cheating ex. The idea of having Eddie coming over makes your stomach twist. And while you were a grown woman and graduated, you still lived with your parents. Having him in your childhood bedroom felt childish, embarrassing. You glance around your room, thinking of all the judgments he would pass looking at the posters on your wall. 

But this was Eddie. The nerd, Dungeons and Dragons playing, drug dealing, metal head. 

Your Rob Lowe poster would be the last of his concerns, you think.

“Do you even remember where I live?” Was the dumbest question to follow up with, but it’s the one you chose to go with. 

“Yeah, right off Sanders. I drove you home when I first got my car, remember? You and Lori-” You cut him off, already jogging your own memory. You did not need to think about her again. “Right! Yeah… if you want to stop by and… hang out, I could use a reup. My p-parents aren’t home tonight.”

He’s silent on the other end for a brief beat. “Are you inviting me over for a sleepover? Should I bring my jammies, princess?”

He was always such a sarcastic asshole. But you could not help but laugh. “Yeah, bring yourself your own pillow and blanket, too. Don’t want you laying on mine.” “So we aren’t sharing your bed?”

You groan, acting annoyed with his comments and questions. “Just get your ass over here, Munson.” “I’ll be there in 10.”

-

He’s sat across the room in your giant red bean bag chair. He seems so at ease out of his usual environment. You watch him use the wooden stool you have had since you were a child as a way to prep his bong for you to hit it. 

You sit on the edge of your bed, your hands wedged between your legs nervously. He finally looks up at you, noting your odd positioning. “You good, sweetheart?”

You shake your head back and forth, “I’m good. Just… need to smoke.”

He gestures out a black lighter for you, bowing his head. “Come hither.”

You stand up, grabbing the lighter and sitting criss cross in front of the stool where he has set up shop. The glassware looks surprisingly clean. You pick it up slowly, not wanting to mess up the pack or drop it due to your nerves. Eddie watches you, his eyebrows furrowed a bit. 

“You’re psyching me out.” He mutters, dusting his bangs away from his forehead a bit. Before he set up, you made sure to open your window right above him so the smoke would escape and not stink up your entire house. Your parents did not care all that much, but you did it out of respect. You did not need to rock the boat. 

“Sorry,” You bring the mouthpiece up to your lips, holding the neck. You had made the mistake of holding the base before and burnt the fuck out of yourself. You light the bowl piece, burning the weed as you suck in. When it bubbles enough, you pick up the piece to inhale. Once the smoke hits your throat and lungs, you try to not cough. But the burn hurts and you let loose. You put the bong down on the stool, lurching forward to cough until your lungs could recoup. 

“Jesus, princess. Never heard you cough so much,” He grabs the bong, inhaling the remaining smoke from your hit. You try not to laugh, mostly due to the fact that your throat feels like it’s on fire. “I don’t use bongs.”

He giggles at that before he puts the mouthpiece up to his lips and finishes off the bowl. 

He makes it look so easy, his Adam's apple bobbing as he inhales and slowly exhales the smoke. Once he does the one hit, he sits back in the bean bag, making a loud swoosh sound. 

“That’s gonna get me high quick, damn,” You say, already feeling the lightness behind your eyes. Your high usually started in your head, moving slowly down to your limbs, all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes. You were also always sporting bloodshot eyes and cottonmouth. Eddie grins as he relaxes into the chair. “We can smoke some more if need be. I have prerolls, too.” You walk to the opposite side of the room, pulling on the other random bean bag that you have stored in your room. You are almost positive this is the one your sister tore a hole in, but you needed something to sit on. You prop it right next to Eddie and the stool, settling in and staring at the ceiling.

“What do you do after you smoke?” You pose, trying to start light conversation so you did not spiral in front of him. You were not used to smoking with another person, so you had some unnecessary nerves. “You want honesty?” His voice breaks a bit before he clears his throat. As he says this, you realize the room is uncharacteristically quiet. To hide further conversation, you stand up and head to your record player. The resting record on the turntable is Fleetwood Mac, so that would just have to do. You turn it on, resting the needle on the edge of the record. The music flows through the room as you turn your head towards him. He has this shit-eating grin that could only hint that he does something mischievous or inappropriate.

“Yeah, go on.”

He first acts like he is thinking for a moment, but he knows his exact next words. They are on the very tip of his tongue, but he just wants to see if you pester him forward. The cat and mouse game seemed to be you two’s specialty at this point. He clears his throat, “I usually just jerk off.” You give him a disdainful glance, trying not to feel the knots tying themselves in the base of your stomach. “You’re gross.” “You asked!” You move the chair closer to him as you sit and lay back, “And hey, that’s not gross. Everyone does it.” You snort, turning your nose away from him. “You could have lied.” “What’s the fun in lying? I don’t lie to my friends.”

You would be lying if you said you did not like to hear that he considers you a friend. But teasing Eddie was your favorite hobby. “Oh, so we are friends?”

He shrugs, his face a bit twisted. “I’d like to think so.”

“Oh, okay.”

It is such a bland comment, you can tell he is squirming in his chair. He leans forward, pulling a baggie out of his pocket. You watch him place three pre rolls on the stool next to the bong. 

“What, you think I’m a freak like everyone else does?” As he says it, you watch him put a pre roll between his lips and fumble with the lighter, “It’s the hair, isn’t it?”

Eddie’s reputation was a pivotal part of why you liked him more than everyone else at school. He liked what he liked and did not bend to anyone’s rules. He liked Dungeons and Dragons and the darker undertones of it. He dressed in all black and enjoyed the heavy metal. He was born and bred to be an outcast. 

And you loved it. 

You had to hide a good part of yourself from the outside world because your Bible Belt town would reprimand you if you dressed how you actually wanted to. You would have been ostracized by your friends you had known your whole life. 

So you put on the stupid act of being normal and wore what was in fashion. You only liked the things you did in private. 

“People think you are weird because of that Satanic shit they think you believe in,” You state, watching him take a drag from the joint. You pay attention to one of his rings specifically. A silver pig head, wrapped around his left middle finger. When your eyes flicker back to his, he takes note of you staring at his hands. “Oh, so you don’t think I’m a crazy satanist that deals drugs and is starting a blood drinking cult?” “If you were, I think we would have been way closer friends.”

The way you say it so matter-of-factly piques Eddie’s interest. He knew all along you were different. That’s why he liked you so much. Why he chose to mess around your best friend instead is forever a mystery. But he had now to make up for it. “Oh, so you’d be in my cult, that I’m actually starting?” He rasps, offering you the joint. You gladly accept it, bringing it to your lips before you respond. 

“For sure,” You exhale some smoke, eyes roaming all over his face. “What does this cult entail?”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His face is inches from yours and he tones down his voice, like you two are passing secrets. You extend the joint back to him, letting his fingertips grace yours as he grabs it. “Bunch of outcast freaks that wear robes and do insane rituals.” You scoff, thinking out the hypotheticals of this cult, “Human sacrifice, type shit?”

“No cult has ever been successful without some human sacrifice, princess,” His grin grows across his face as he scans you up and down. ”So, are you in?”

The weed only makes you bolder, bringing your body even closer, “Sounds like a great time to me.”

“Oh, it will be. You, me, some fuckin’ weirdos I find off the streets. Maybe you can be my right-hand woman. May need someone else to keep them all in check.”

His head shifts to look between your eyes and lips. It makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “You not capable of doin’ that all by yourself?”

“Maybe,” He drags out the last syllable, ticking his tongue, “Just thought you’d wanna help is all.”

The thought sends shivers down your spine. But you try to act like his words have no effect on you, so you swallow shallowly and glance away. You want to say something that will drive him crazy, just to get one up on him. “I mean… I guess. As long as I get paid with a mass amount of drugs and ritualistic sex.” The last part of the sentence has him in a tizzy.

“Oh, that’s a given. You’ll be set for life.”

You clear your throat, the taste of weed reentering your mouth, “I’m hoping you have some good ideas for these rituals. I’m pretty useless.”

But you had plenty of ideas for him. And while you were truly into Eddie, you do not know if you would ever be bold enough to share those ideas out loud. You have read plenty of books, seen enough films, but you could never just outwardly say such obscene things to another person. Eddie’s lips quirk up, “I’ve got plenty of ideas, baby.”

The boldness he shows you gives you a rise. Your heart starts to beat fast, and before you can even really debate your next words, they spill out of your mouth.

“Enlighten me, leader.”

Eddie’s demeanor shifts completely. His brown eyes grow darker as he leans forward towards you, placing his large hand on your thigh. The touch sends goosebumps throughout your entire body, all the way up to your neck. His smirk changes into a mischievous grin.

“Enlighten you? You want me to show you all the things that are rattling around in my brain, sweetheart?”

The song stops and there’s a stillness that fills the room. The tension is thick like the marijuana smoke that radiates around your bedroom’s four walls. You place your hand delicately on top of Eddie’s. 

“Please.” You rasp, your eyes flickering all around his face. His nose, his slightly ajar lips, his doe eyes that show lust instead of innocence.

His hand slips behind the nape of your neck, pulling you closer and closer. Instead of meeting in the middle, you jump the gun pressing yourself closer and closing the gap. You could not stop yourself, you had to feel him against you. When your lips press against him, the sound from your throat brings him to be urgent with his movements.

When his tongue lips past your lips, you start to realize how dry your mouth really was. You always experienced cottonmouth, but with the way you were practically drooling for Eddie’s attention, you are surprised to offer your mouth and tongue to him and find them sticking to the roof of your mouth. 

You pull away, your hand still on his, squeezing it reassuringly, “My mouth is-” “I don’t care,” And he’s pulling you back into his lips. He could not care less if your mouth was dry or if your hair is sticking up weird because of where his hand is placed. He just needed to feel you against him. And you wanted the same.

His hands wrap around your waist, pulling you across his lap. With the new position, you rest your hips on top of him and cradle his jaw with your hands. The kiss turns into him just giving you all of the saliva in his mouth, which you gladly take. His lips move at a perfect drawn-out pace. His hand adds more encouragement to your frenching, traveling all around your sides and hips. You retreat, pulling back for some air.

His eyes never leave yours as you settle onto his thighs as you catch your breath, your shorts riding up to your hips as you slide across him. 

“Tell me if I’m misinterpreting signs, sweetheart.”

You shake your head ‘no’, your arms slowly moving up from his chest to his shoulders. “Nothing to misinterpret, Munson.”

He gives you a smug grin, leaning his back further into the chair. His eyes trace down the curvature of your body, admiring you mounting his lap. 

“Do you need some water? Sorry, I just… you stopped kissing me so suddenly-” You shake your head, cutting him off. “Right above you on the windowsill…that water bottle. Just give me that.”

He steadies you on his lap by resting a firm grip on your waist as he extends his body upward to grab the plastic water bottle. While he shifts, you can feel his hardness against your thighs. Your lips purse in a half grin.

He grabs it, opens it for you, and gestures for you to lean your head back. “I can do it myself, dear,” You retort, trying to reach out for the bottle. He pulls it away, chuckling slyly to himself. “Let me do it.” It is the stupid banter like this that is making you fall so hard for him. Whether it’s the two of you on the phone, or hanging out in person, he always found a way to tease you or pick at you. 

You lean your head back slightly as he pours the perfect amount in your mouth. You swish it around, already feeling a lot better. The dryness will probably come back, but at least you had your own personal water fountain to supply you with more. You watch him screw the cap back on and put it next to him on the floor. His other hand returns to your waist, his touch lowering a bit more to your ass.

“So… you like this, right?” The question is so dumb and forward, you have to give him credit. For crying out loud, you are mounting his lap and wildly making out with him. You cannot help but laugh. “Yeah, dumbass.”

“Okay, good. I like this, too…”

“So…Is this just the sneak preview?” You jab, thinking back to the conversation you two were just having about starting a cult. You are slightly hinting that you would like more, but you do not know how to word it without sounding desperate.

Eddie is so in his own head, he looks at you confused. “What?”

“The ritualistic sex or whatever.”

He lifts you up swiftly, his palms raising you up by your asscheeks. You yelp, holding onto him for dear life. He chuckles as he walks you about 7 steps towards your bed. When he drops you, your arms flail backward to catch yourself landing with a bounce. He does not give you any time to recover, his hands running up the sides of your body, while his hips align with yours. His face breaks into something more mischievous. “Nah, this is just something I’ve wanted to do to you for a long time. The ritualistic sex will involve way more blood.”

You lace your hands around his neck, pulling his face closer to your lips. You completely disregard the blood comment. That is a conversation for another time.  “You’ve wanted to do this for a while?” “Longer than I care to admit.” He captures your lips in another bruising kiss, his hand leaving your hip to cup your face. You eagerly offer your newly wet tongue to his accepting mouth. You are kissing each other like you are trying to suck the life out of him. You both tasted like weed which only added to the intoxication of the exchange. 

Your hands were roaming every part of his upper chest, your hand wrapping so perfectly around his neck and jaw. When he tilts your head back with his thumb to push your face upward so he can access your neck, you release him. He tuts, kissing your neck, “You wanna have your hands around my throat, baby?”

You can feel the wetness rush out of you, soaking your panties at the huskiness of his voice. “If you’re into that.”

He can feel his smile against you, lifting his face up to meet your eyes. 

“Very into that.”

The disposal of clothes happens in rapid succession. You watch him plop down in his boxers, while you have already removed your underwear. His eyes fly open at the realization that you are laying it all out there immediately. You are too high to give a fuck, watching his eyes scan you as you undo your bra in the back. 

“Are you fucking with your underwear on?” He swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing at the question. “Uh, no. I just…” You lower yourself in front of him, feigning innocence as you rub his bare thighs. The tent in his boxers is fully apparent, waiting for you to take it in your hands. “You what? You want me to take them off for you?” His cocky smirk returns in full force. “If you’re into that.”

You notice his teasing tone, repeating your previous statement from moments before. You pull at the waistband of his boxers as he shifts himself so you can release him out of his confides. “Very into that.”

When his cock springs free, you practically gasp. The surprise on your face is all apparent and Eddie loves it. He looks at you through hooded lids, enjoying the sight of you taking him in your hands. You wrap around him so perfectly, jerking him off with slow methodical movements. You tilt forward, pressing your wet lips to his shaft. His lips form into an ‘o’ as you wrap your lips around his dick, taking him gradually into your mouth. He cannot stop staring at your actions. You are quick to switch it up on him when he gets too quiet for your comfort. You speed up your movements, the saliva you are finally making, starts dripping around his cock as you take him further into your throat. 

He slides so easily into your mouth, your high brain keeps thinking ‘God, he’s made for me’. It sounds so insane and a bit delusional, but you loved hearing him whimper as you continued to slurp up and down on his cock. “Oh my god, you’re so fuckin’ good at that,” His voice is dripping with lust, “You keep goin’ and I’m cumming in that mouth.” You do one last slow up and down on him, releasing him from your mouth. “Need you inside me before you cum.”

You give him one last long, lingering lick up his shaft before pressing a tender kiss on the tip. He rolls his eyes back, his lips twisted up in a smile. “Dirty girl.” You stand up on your heels, stepping forward and mounting his lap again. His hands settle on your sides immediately, dragging you closer to him as you side further towards his knees. “You want a condom?” His dilated pupils cannot look away from your core hovering so close to his spit covered cock. “Do we need one?” You tilt his head up with your fingers. “You safe?” “Always.” “Good, then. I take a pill every morning. So unless you’re weird about fuckin’ raw-” He shakes his head, pressing his lips into yours to quiet your ramblings. You return the kiss, moaning into him as you draw your cunt closer to his erection. When you nudge him, he hisses.

“Fuck me how you want, princess.”

You give him a smug expression, lifting yourself up on your knees and reaching between your own legs. You feel for his cockhead, tilting it towards where your entrance is. You lower yourself slowly, eyes catching Eddie’s as he looks up at you. He looks so hot in this light, his jaw clenched, his gaze burning through you, his hair swept back over his shoulders. When his tip graces your core, you practically squeeze him without any penetration.

Once he’s right where you need him, you sink all the way down. The moans you both let out in unison is like music to your ears. You can practically hear your heartbeat in your ears as you lift up again and slam down, his watchful eye observing your actions. When you realize the intrusion will not hurt if you speed up, you push him onto his back. 

He grabs one of your pillows from the top of the bed, his wingspan somehow long enough to do such things. You enjoy watching him prop his head up to observe you, a devious smile on his face. He keeps his hands under his head, like he’s just enjoying the show. You settle your one hand on his stomach, the other on his chest, right below a tattoo of what appears to be a demon head. 

“Your tattoos are so random,” You babble, spreading your fingers over the art.

He tilts his head, still just appreciating the way your tits sit over him. “You are not very good at dirty talk, sweetheart.”

You grimace at his comment, dragging your hips forward which allows your clit some stimulation while he’s inside you. “My apologies. I’ll stick to the normal buzzer words.”

He rolls his eyes initially but once you raise your hips up to bounce on him, he forces his eyes closed. 

You grin, your hands resting a bit further up his chest, slowly creeping your way up to his pretty little neck. His guitar pick necklace is a staple in his appearance, but right now it was just in your way. You continue your movements, finally resting your hand right below his Adam’s apple. He reveals his brown eyes again when you tighten your grip, his expression indicating that he is enjoying you like this.

You are starting to feel weak in your knees as you fuck yourself on him, but you are not a quitter and it feels too good to stop. You balance one hand on his chest, the other one constricting more of his airways. The way he heaves under you sends a shockwave right to your clit. The stimulation is becoming almost too much, but you clench your pelvic muscles, edging yourself.

“Oh my god,” You whine, finally returning to just sliding yourself back and forth on his pelvis, “I’m gonna cum, Eddie.”

You release his throat, allowing him to catch his breath. “I can feel you gripping me so good, baby.”

Eddie moves his hands up your legs, clutching onto the sides of your hips first, before massaging the flesh right below your boobs. When they travel to toy with your nipples, you can feel the urgent flood of your orgasm hit the pit of your stomach. You roll your eyes back, lulling your head back as your hips stutter against his. As you jerk your body across him, you can feel his dick twitching inside you. Your vision is a bit clouded as you fix your gaze back on the man below you. 

You feel his hands roughly grab your hips, practically rag dolling you to the spot next to him. He fixes himself between your legs, slotting his cock back into your cunt. “I’m so close but I need to go at my pace.”

“Eddie, I’m so sensitive,” You mewl, your hands rubbing your eyes to regain some of your normal function back. The endorphins from the sex is intertwining weirdly with the high you already have, which makes your body feel like it’s only a matter of time before you are cumming all over him again. 

“I know, baby, but I know you got more in you. One more? You think you can do that for your leader?”

You gasp when he grinds himself into you. You cannot even say anything back to the horniest thing he has said all night because the feeling of him fully sheathed inside you again has your head spinning. He starts with a slower pace that only speeds up when you are moaning his name over and over again. You then realize, he will, in fact, have you cumming again. 

He reaches up under your knee, slotting it right in the bend of his arm. He slowly starts to raise it up in the air to plow into you from a different angle, stretching you further and further to your limit. His hair is starting to stick to his forehead, as he continues to chase his release. He opens you up some more by spreading your leg out more. You watch as he licks his thumb and stares down at your swollen clit. You know what he’s about to do and you may just lose your mind. He slots his finger right on top of your sensitive bud and presses, rubbing methodical circles. 

“Cum, baby, I know you wanna.”

You gasp, letting the orgasm take over every nerve ending in your body. The way you clench down on him sends him into overdrive. His grunts fill the room, while you are silently writhe under him, unable to catch your breath from the explosion of your climax. The feeling of you seizing around his cock makes him drop your leg lazily and drop on top of your naked body. 

He holds onto you like you are the only thing anchoring him in reality as he fucks his seed deep inside you. 

Your sweaty bodies lace around each other as you both regain your composure. His weight is pressing you deeply into the mattress, so you languidly pat his shoulder. 

“Squishing me, Munson.”

He presses up into a push up to look at you, his hair falling over your face. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

He rolls onto his side, his half hard cock slipping out of your pussy, dragging some of his cum out with it. You can feel him dripping out of you, which is an absolutely surreal experience. He settles beside you, still huffing a bit. “Well… That was…”

You did not really have the right adjective to explain your feelings about the entire ordeal. You were definitely satisfied. More than you ever had been before. 

Eddie smacks his lips, pushing some hair away from his eyes. “Incomparable. On my part, at least.”

You sneer, trying your best to clear out the rasp you feel in your throat. Your mouth is starting to feel dry all over again. You think for a moment, wondering if you should give in and share that it was the best sex you have ever had or just act nonchalant. 

“Yeah, definitely something,” You remark dryly. You wanted banter with him, it was only fitting after such sacrilege.

He looks at you with a half-grin, his eyes scanning down your body for a beat. When he gets to your chest, he just stares at your tits while he speaks. 

“Not annoying. And not flat-chested. Just perfect,” He taunts, reaching out to tweak one of your nipples, “I was right, you were wrong.”

He always has to one up you. You lean forward, resting your palm on your bed as you get in his sphere. “I’m not joining your cult. You are too cocky and I think you will get too power hungry.”

His finger still toys with your chest as you speak, the words just sliding right off his shoulders. 

“Power hungry? No, no, no,” He places his hand right in the center of your chest, the coldness of his rings sending shockwaves up your arms, “The only thing I’m ever gonna be hungry for is you, my dear.”

You shake your head, propping yourself on your elbow as you stare down at him. “Apparently you have been for a while… According to what you said earlier.”

That comment tickles him. He finally chuckles, leaning up so he’s millimeters from your lips. 

“Guilty as charged.”

His mouth presses back onto yours, tongue and all. It finally brings back some moisture back into your mouth. Maybe you didn’t need the damn water bottle. Maybe you just needed him to keep kissing you.

tags of ppl i love and who may wanna read, idk:

@hauntedhowlett @pedgito @hockeyhughes @chaotic-mystery

[bcmbiquinn]

[josephquinngifs]