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thejoequinnlibrary · 5 days ago

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𝙖 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙮 @kellyxo1

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘚𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘴. 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘭𝘢𝘣 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 3.5𝙠

an: 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘛4 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘷𝘦𝘤𝘯𝘢. (𝘺𝘢𝘺)

Spring Break.

The beautiful sky and warm winds of Hawkins had treated you nicely. You still remember the feeling of joy that burst through you when the last bell rung, packing your suitcase for vacation and the scent of your boyfriend as he kissed you in your bedroom.

Sat on his lap as his arms are wrapped around you, hands on your hips. You hum and pull back with a small smirk as his hands slowly creep under your shirt.

“Can’t Eddie.”

He huffs. “What? It’s only 5, sweetheart. Hellfire doesn’t start till seven.”

You gently rake your fingers in his messy curls. “And I still have more to pack.”

He groans. “Why are you even going to california? Not like the Byers won’t be able to live without you.”

You giggle. “I told you, i’m going to see Jane. She’s been having a hard time with high school. She didn’t call Nancy and she didn’t tell Joyce, she asked me. And since Hopper’s gone… i’m the closest to family she has.”

“I get it, doesn’t mean I won’t miss you.” He huffs and kisses your cheek. “But what about my problem?”

You raise a brow. “What problem?”

He clutches his chest. “My heart.. it..”

You roll your eyes as he flops back onto your sheets. “If you go too far, I won’t make it. I.. I think this may be the end sweetheart.”

He blinks a few times at you before he takes his “last breath.”

“Idiot.” You smirk and start to climb off his lap and he rushes to roll over and he lays on you, making you laugh.

He smiles. “I’m serious. What am I gonna do while my princess is gone.”

You quip at him. “Your left hand is pretty good.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes but he smirks. “No shit.”

You grin and kiss his nose. “I’ll call you every single night. Plus, i’ll be back Wednesday morning so you can have me all to yourself for the other half of break, okay?”

He nods. “Every night.”

“Indiana’s three hours ahead so.. call at 7.”

“That’s four for you.”

You nod. “I swear. It’ll go by so fast that you won’t even notice im gone.”

He sighs. “Yeah right. I miss you already.”

You grin and sit up, kissing him one last time. “Just stay out of trouble, yeah?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

And Eddie tried. He had it all planned out. Four days without his girlfriend. He could finish his hellfire campaign and focus on rehearsals, maybe do more dealings or go to the city.

But after his campaign, he had a deal go wrong. He thought four days without you would be easy. Simple. So much for staying out of trouble.

Everyone in Hawkins was so convinced that Eddie had killed Chrissy. A cult, that’s what they called hellfire. Chasing down your sweet boyfriend and soon enough your friends for being involved in said cult. But you had no clue.

You called him on Saturday when you made it to the Byers’ house. You called him on Sunday to tell him about El and her roller skating incident with Angela and those other assholes at the roller rink. California was nothing like what you imagined and to make matters worse, the cops took Eleven for endangering her peers.

You called Joyce but it was no help, she never answered, probably busy with her conference. And when the agents showed up at your door to tell you about El going to the lab and getting her powers back, you knew you something was wrong. And your mind went straight to Hawkins, to Eddie.

You ran up to Jonathan’s room, using the phone to dial in Eddie’s number again. Nothing.

Will sits on the bed next to you. “He’ll answer.”

You look at him. “It’s not like him. It’s just not right.”

“Is anything ever alright?” Will says a bit sad, looking into his lap.

You place your hand over his. “We’ll get her back, Will. She just needs to get strong again. I know she didn’t tell you but, she needs her powers. This place, those people, that Angela girl. They make her feel weak.”

“I know. I tried to help her. I want to be a good brother.”

You nod. “Will you’re the best brother she could ask for. You and Jonathan. She’s not alone and neither are you.”

He nods and he thinks for a second. “You feel it too don’t you?”

You shake your head, confused and he speaks lowly so he doesn’t worry Jonathan. “Miles away from Hawkins, it still lingers in your head. Like things aren’t okay.”

You nod. “I’m just trying to stay optimistic. But nobody’s answering. I called Nancy, Robin, Steve, no answer. And Erica just told me Lucas hasn’t been home, still with the basketball team.”

Will sighs. “What about Dustin?”

“His mom said he’s out with Steve. They’re probably just at Family Video again.”

“And his walkie?”

Stupid. That’s how you feel. You didn’t think about the walkie. You look at Will.

“Where’s yours?”

Will gave you his walkie and you turned to every frequency he’s babbled over before. You finally reach him when you hear ranting and talking.

“Not unless we use music. It has to work.”

Your eyes widen. “Dustin.. Dustin!”

He speaks through the walkie. “Who’s this?”

“It’s me!”

He sighs of relief. “Holy shit where have you been?!”

“Me?! I’ve been calling you like crazy.”

You hear Steve chime in. “No time to chat. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m okay, just.. there’s a lot going on.”

“You know?” Dustin asks.

“About El?” You raise a brow.

“About Eddie.”

You shake your head. “What should I know about Eddie? What’s wrong?”

There’s a bit of silence before Dustin answers you. “He’s wanted for murder.”

Your eyes widen. “What?!”

“It’s a long story. And we’ve got bigger fish to fry but I can promise you he’s safe.”

“Where is he?”

“Rick’s boathouse.” He pauses. “What’s going on with El?”

You sigh. It really was a lot to tell.

“She’s going back with Brenner to get her powers back.”

“What?!”

“Dr Owens took her. Said something terrible was going to happen and only she can stop it.”

Dustin sighs. “They might be a little too late.”

You didn’t need to hear any more. You and the boys called up Argyle and you were in the van, headed straight for El. It took days but with the help of a late agent, you found your way to El. And she had her powers back, in the van as she zeroes in on your friends in Hawkins through the void.

You bite your nails nervously as she ties her blindfold on.

“I see her.”

Will leans in. “See who?”

“Max.” Eleven hesitates. “She’s with the others. Lucas, Steve, Nancy.”

You frown, clutching the walkie. But Eleven speaks up.

“Eddie is there.”

You nod. “So everyone’s safe?”

She shakes her head. “Max says she’s the fourth chime.”

“Like the killings? Is that what you talked to Brenner about?” Jonathan says from the driver’s seat. Suddenly the drive to Hawkins became more stressful.

El takes off her blindfold, distress written all over her face. “We have to get to Hawkins. Tonight.”

Argyle speaks up from his daze of smoke he’d had many hours prior. “Isn’t Hawkins like two thousand miles away?”

“Yeah but, I mean we have our friends there.” Will says.

“My family’s there.” Mike speaks up.

Jonathan sighs and shakes his head. “We’ll never make it in that time frame.”

Eleven speaks up. “I can piggyback. Like how I found mama before.”

You look at her. “Right. The salt in the tub.”

“We don’t have salt.” Will says.

“Or a tub.” Mike adds on.

“Hold onto your butts. I’ve got a magical land where all things are possible my little friends.”

You all raise your brows. Is he still high?

Jonathan shakes his head. “But it’s all the way in California.”

“Dude, we have locations in almost every state. I’m positive Nevada has some.”

And you all felt relieved for a bit. It was pretty easy, getting into the Surfer Boy Pizza, swapping the location for a joint to the guy behind the counter. Mike and Eleven share a pineapple pizza, courtesy of Argyle. As Will and Jonathan mix the salt and prepare Eleven’s tank, you found yourself in the restroom.

You were exhausted. Worried and tired but relieved Eleven was okay from her time in the lab. You just wanted this all to be over. You hear the walkie go off.

You grab it and spreak into it. “Hello?”

There’s silence before that familiar voice comes in. “Hey sweetheart.”

You sigh and speak softly, trying not to cry. “Eddie. Thank God you’re okay.”

He lets out a tired chuckle. Even in the shittiest situations he’s still Eddie. “Miss me, huh?”

You can’t fight off a small grin. “I feel like I’m going crazy without you.”

You can hear him huff a small laugh. “I didn’t believe Harrington when he said you fought off some evil russians and demogorgons but wow.”

“Eddie.”

He hears the seriousness in your voice. “Yeah?”

“Promise me, whatever happens.. you’ll be safe.”

There’s moments silence before he speaks. “I promise.”

“I’m serious, Eddie. We’ve been through this before. Me, Robin, Steve, all of us. And I need to know that when I get home you’ll be there waiting for me.”

He nods despite you not being able to see him. “I’ll be safe. We’ve got it all planned out, okay?”

He tries to add humor to cheer you up. “It’ll be like my own personal campaign.”

You huff and he can practically make out your smile in his mind. “Nerd.”

“Yours, truly.”

Will runs from the kitchen, knocking on the door. “It’s time.”

You nod and sigh, and Eddie says his last words to you for the night. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Eddie.”

The walkies are off and El is prepped and ready, in her tank as she puts on her goggles made from the box of the pizza.

You always found it impressive how she could piggyback to find the people she cared for. And you knew she could help Max. Maybe it was too late for Billy, but this time it has to work.

That’s what you told yourself. Watching as Mike spoke to Eleven, she uses her powers to defeat Vecna. Along in Hawkins is Nancy, Steve and Robin attacking Vecna where he rests. The fight is now or never.

The fight was now or never. And once El had come back from her piggyback, you all raced back in the van, stopping for only gas to get back home.

When you guys made it home to Hawkins, Will used his walkie to talk to Dustin and they say they’re at the Wheelers. Hopping out of the van, you hug Steve and Robin. Dustin practically rushes to hug you.

“You’re safe.” He sighs in relief, squeezing your lungs out. To be fair, you’re squeezing him just as tightly.

“Yeah i’m fine. I’m safe. I’m glad you guys are okay.” You grin. “It worked.”

He doesn’t seem so happy. “You don’t know.”

“Don’t.. know what? What is it?”

He pulls Eddie’s bandana from his pocket. Blood stained and torn at the corners.

You feel your heart drop. “Where is he?”

You could hardly take. You’ve practically bitten your fingernails to the bone by the time Steve makes it to the hospital. You run out of the van and to the front desk.

“Munson. I need to see Eddie Munson.”

The clerk clicks around on her screen. “Edward Munson. Room 219. Only two visitors at a time.”

You nod. “Its just me and my friend.”

She shakes her head. “There’s already one visitor upstairs.”

You look at Steve and he pats your shoulder. “It’s okay. Go.”

You nod and grab the visitor’s pass, putting it on your shirt. When you make it to his room you see a bunch of flowers on the table in the corner and Wayne rises from his chair next to Eddie’s bed. Your eyes water as he pulls you into a hug.

“Hey kid.”

You struggle to get out a “hi” as he lets you go. You walk up to Eddie’s bed. His eyes resting, his body still and he’s hooked up to the oxygen, lifeless. You look at the monitor, his heart rate is low.

“Doctor says he’s still pumpin’ but if..” The word if alone hurts his heart. He’s usually stoic but you see the pain in his face. “If he doesn’t wake, they’ve asked me to arrange plans.”

You look at him and you nod, eyes watering more. “How long has he been here?”

“Two days.” He nods. He looks so tired. More tired than he usually does when coming from a late shift at the plant.

“I’ll stay with him.”

He looks at you. “Are you sure? I know you just got back home. And I know if he were awake, he’d want you to rest.”

You shake your head, putting on your best brave face. “It’s fine, really. I want to be here for him.”

He nods and gives you one more hug, giving Eddie’s head one caring pat before leaving the room. And that’s when you let the tears fall. From watching Eleven fight in that tank to hearing about Max’s leg to seeing your boyfriend like this the tears are long overdue.

You sit in the chair, crying as you gently take eddie’s bruised hand in your own. Scars stitched up on his body and arms. You rest your head on his palm, feeling his skin against yours.

“Please wake up.”

You cried, you read his favorite books, you slept with his hand right in yours. You hardly ate. Food wouldn’t sit right with Eddie just lying there. You missed his voice, his touch, his big dark eyes looking at yours.

You sigh. By day nine.. thirteen? You had just said goodbye to Wayne, grateful for the nurse who agreed to let you stay every night. Damn the visiting hours. Nothing could take you away from your boy.

You do your night routine: brush Eddie’s hair, clean his small cuts, kiss his hand and hold it before lying your head on the bed next to it. You got as much sleep as you could.

And in the morning you thank Steve for bringing you breakfast before he heads to his shift. You’ve got one of Eddie’s tapes playing lowly on the walkman on the tray. You take a bite of your sandwich.

The room is still as always. When you take another bite of your food, his fingers twitch. You pop the cap of your water bottle, taking a sip-

“Holy shit.”

You look at his hand. His fingers are moving against the blanket. You sit your food down and gently grab his hand. You speak softly. “Eddie.”

There’s silence but when you look at the monitor, the heart rates goes up a bit and his fingers slowly close around yours.

You watch as movement begins beneath his eyelids. You let out a shaky breath as you lean in closer. “Eddie.” You say again, looking over his face.

His eyelids flutter and brows twitch. You can see the struggle and the weight of his consciousness pressing for him through his slow wake. His grip on your hand tightens and a bit weakly but it’s there. He’s real, skin warming up and his chest rising and falling slowly.

His eyes slowly open and his vision is a bit hazy before it lands on your face. There’s a moment’s silence before his voice croaks out a weak word.

“Sweetheart.”

You nod and huff, smiling as your eyes water. “It’s me, Eddie. I’m here.”

He tries to sit up but he groans in pain.

“No don’t! Just.. hang on, okay?” You click the button for the nurse and you stand over him.

They come in and take his vitals. They agree to keep him on the oxygen until his heart rate is back to normal and run more tests, but he is announced as alive.

The others come up one by one to see Eddie. They talk to him and he sips his water. He can’t really say much but he’s got the color back in his face, and it’s all you care about.

When everyone leaves you open his jello and grab the spoon holding it to his mouth. He parts his lips and takes the cherry sweetness in. He looks at you and he frowns because well, you’re crying again.

He takes his hand and weakly reaches up to wipe away a tear. You hold his hand and sniffle.

“I was so scared, Eddie. I thought I lost you for good.”

He shakes his head and uses all his strength to talk to you. “I promised you i’d be here when you get back home.”

“Safe.” You say with a soft stern tone.

He grins weakly. “We are safe. Look at me.”

You look at him and shake your head. “I’d kick your ass if you weren’t already down.”

He laughs but quickly grips his ribs, the stitches are still very sensitive.

“Shit, i’m sorry.”

He shakes his head and winces, doing the breathing exercises the doctor told him to try. “I deserve it.” He looks over your face. “I promise, we’re safe now.”

You nod and he speaks softly. “Sweetheart.”

“Yeah?” You scoop up his next bite of jello but he reaches over to the side of his bed. You see his struggle. “Stop. What is it?”

He sighs weakly. “My rings.”

You raise a brow, lifting the chunky rings from the table. “Can’t help yourself, can you?”

You know most nights he sleeps with them on. But with surgery and all they had to be removed. He sits them on his lap and he grabs the ring with the skulls and cross.

He shuts his eyes, trying to find his words. “Always thought this would happen differently.”

You shake your head. “Thought what would happen differently?”

He looks at you and he takes your hand. He kisses your palm, then the back of your hand, his nose and lips pressed into your skin. His eyes water but he speaks before he loses his voice again.

“When I ran out there, all I thought about was you. You push me to be my best and that’s what I wanted to be. And I know,” he sighs, catching his breath. “I know i’m an idiot and I did what I had to do.”

He kisses your hand one last time. “I just want you to know that I won’t break your trust again.”

Your eyes water. “Eddie, you’re a hero. Everyone knows that now. And what you did for Max, for all of us. It means more to me than anything else.”

You cup his face with your free hand. “I love you.”

He kisses your palm. “I love you.”

He slides the ring onto your finger. “Never leave me again?”

You look down at the ring. It doesn’t quite fit you but your eyes drift back to his face.

“Eddie. Are you-“

“After we graduate, and I can walk again. I want you to be with me. To be my wife.”

Your breath catches in your throat. The weight of his words settles deep in your chest, the feelings all warm and overwhelming at the same time.

“Eddie…” You whisper his name, the fingers that were cradling his face have frozen. He locks eyes with you, his own tired but filled with a new promise.

“I know we’re still so young,” he continues. His voice is still hoarse from his rest, “but I don’t care. Lying in this hospital bed and not knowing if I’d wake up to see you again… it made me realize I don’t wanna waste any more time.”

You smile through your watery eyes, fingers trembling with his as he gently squeezes yours. “You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack.” He smirks weakly. “Shit. Bad timing?”

That gets a laugh out of you and he smiles, your laughter soothing his heart better than any medication.

“You really are an idiot.” You smile, bending over, resting your forehead to his.

“An idiot you’ll marry?.” He says more quietly.

“Yes, Eddie.” You smile. “I’ll marry you.”

He smiles, using all the strength he has to pull you close as he kisses you. You kiss him and it feels like your life has meaning again. You both laugh as the monitor beeps get faster, his heart rate rising from your kiss alone.

Resting your forehead to his you feel contempt and at home. With your fingers lacing his, you can feel the warmth of his body. No more coma, or upside down. Just the steady rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his skin, and the promise of a new beginning, together.

#joequinnficlibrary #eddie munson

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thejoequinnlibrary · 5 days ago

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the hat rule. (e.m. x fem!reader)

the hat rule (n.): you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.

summary: when eddie dresses up as a cowboy to a night out with friends, you decide to steal his hat.

pairings: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: reader is described to be wearing a dress. reader is also dressed up as a black cat. premise is everyone is wearing 'slutty' costumes. overuse of pet names. public teasing, unprotected sex, choking kink, oral (f receiving), ass slapping. 18+.

wc: 13.3k+

happy early valentine's day, babes. shout out to @hellfire--cult for beta reading, as well as @andvys for giving me this idea to begin with.

If someone had told you last week that you’d be attending a slutty costume themed night at a club tonight, you would have laughed in their face.

And yet here you were, at Steve Harrington’s apartment, donned in a black cat costume that shows more skin than you have in years.

The elaborate plan had sparked on a random day after Steve encountered a flyer for the event. It was a nightclub your group had attended before, and one look at the line free drinks for participants had Steve running down your entire group to insist that you all needed to dress up, to participate in this, for the luxury of free Tito’s.

He’d never considered that the ad might not be targeted towards the male population. And now, you were all gathering at his apartment to pregame, ‘slutted out’ as Robin had so kindly put it – men included.

Nancy pulled out some sort of angel costume she claims she had bought but certainly not worn a few years back, Robin had conglomerated an alluring pirate attire from items you hadn’t even been aware were in her closet. Jonathan arrived in his erotic yet pensive writer’s costume (you’d hardly understood it, but he seemed confident, so you all went with it), Argyle in tow donning some sort of seductive surfer costume, in which you certainly recognized the unbuttoned shirt and cargo shorts that had had a pocket knife taken to them to disregard a few inches. Steve even stuck to his own demands, going all out – a sensual bunny costume.

And then, there was Eddie.

Eddie fuckin’ Munson.

“Pick your jaw up off the ground, sweetheart,” he teases as he shuffles around you in the kitchen to grab a drink, “Gonna start catching flies otherwise.”

“There’s a joke in there somewhere about how sweet I am, right?” you blandly reply, keeping your eyes on your room temp cocktail that Steve had so graciously mixed for you upon your arrival, “Something where you call me honey or sugar, yeah?”

Eddie pauses, bottle of vodka in hand, looking at you with big eyes lined in coal, “Oh, baby, you know me so well.”

“Cut the pet names, Munson.”

You try to scowl. You really do. But you don’t mean a damn word you say.

Sweetheart. Baby. Hell, even honey would have done it for you when he was wearing that costume.

Tight leather pants, flared at the ankle. Worn leather boots that certainly had to have been thrifted, clicking with each of his steps. A cow print vest, and just a vest, over what looked to be an oiled chest.

And that fucking hat smashing down his curls, adding a shadow across his face that only built into the illusion.

You hate him. You hate this stupid party. You hate Steve for ever suggesting this.

“You don’t mean that,” he sing-songs as he pours his own drink into a red solo cup. The vodka mixes with cranberry juice, you think, before he’s dropping a few ice cubes out of the freezer. “Or maybe you do, and I should try saying them with a southern drawl,” Fuck, he does a good southern accent. Slow and syrupy sweet, molasses down the throat as he flutters his lashes at you, “That better, darlin’?”

You pluck the thin black straw that had been added to your cup for flare, probably stolen from a hotel at some point by Steve and positively meant for drinks of the coffee variety, and flick it in his direction without hesitation.

“Terrible,” you flatly lie, “Cowboys aren’t even from the south, idiot. They’re from the West.”

You have no desire to hear Eddie’s Western accent. No desire to hear Texan twang on those lips, putting on his best John Wayne impression. In fact, the faster you can get away from him, the quicker you can get yourself under control.

It had always been this way between you and Eddie. Push and pull. Will they, won’t they. A game of cosmic shores as the two of you toed at each other’s orbits and bantered effortlessly. Flirtatious threats, inappropriate compliments, lewd innuendos – you had done it all, specifically with Eddie.

That’s just how the friendship worked.

The friendship.

Friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

Eddie won’t leave you alone, though, choosing to lean up against the counter beside you, forcing his way into your peripherals, “Damn. You’re right. Wayne would kill me if he knew I mixed that up.”

“Oh, I think he has plenty of reasons to knock some sense into you.”

“Yeah?” he leans forward, tauntingly, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, “Why don’t you do it for him? I think I’d like a slap more coming from you, honestly.”

He’s acting like he always does. This is normal. The fact that his entire torso is on show and you can’t stop staring at the way his tattoo on his peck is shimmering doesn’t change that.

You play the role, knowing your part well as you lean in as well, forcing a smile right back at him, “Wanna kiss my knuckles before I do it, or am I gonna have to do all the hard work here?”

“Oh, trust me, you’d never have to do all the work with me, ba-”

“Can you two get a fucking room?” Robin interrupts as she enters the room, clearly coming in for a refill but getting more than she bargained for.

You’re aflame with the shame and embarrassment, feeling it lick from your ankles up to your throat, as Eddie only chuckles lowly.

“Sorry, Robs,” Eddie chirps, not sounding apologetic at all, “I promise I’ll behave myself the rest of the night.”

And yet, despite the words you’re hearing him say out loud, he does the exact opposite.

There’s no real need for him to do it. There’s plenty of space amongst the kitchen for him to maneuver his way out without laying a single hand on you – and yet he still fucking does.

His palm is shockingly warm when it curls around your hip, his other hand occupied with a drink, encouraging you to move a step forward so that he can brush behind you far too close for comfort. You nearly stumble over himself as he does it. The feeling of his barren chest barely bumping your bare shoulder blades sends your mind reeling, and his staple rings that have incorporated into his costume press right through the thin fabric of your dress.

Your breathing stops entirely as he pauses, the slightest bit of skin still brushing against yours, and leans in with a boyish grin, “We’ll both be on our best behavior tonight – right, kitty?”

Something clicks in your mind. The way the nickname rolls off his tongue as he’s looking at you with eyes flaming with mischief, hand lingering on your hip for far too long.

Your eyes flicker up to the hat on his head, and you smile slowly, meeting his toying gaze, “Right, cowboy.”

Best behavior, your ass. Tonight, you have decided, ends the will they, won’t they of it all.

It’s about to either be the best night of your life, or the worst.

—

Another shot with Nancy. Another smoke with Argyle. Another adjusting of Steve’s corset when he complains he can’t breathe (he certainly can, but you’re starting to think he just likes the attention). The pregaming continues on as more of Steve’s friends from work show up, the apartment slowly beginning to buzz with the chatter of more strangers than you can count on one hand.

You’re not even at the club yet and you’re already regretting your revealing attire.

Eddie stays mostly preoccupied with his own devices, and only gets scolded a handful of times by Nancy. You can hear every lewd joke he makes, of course. At some point, you make a private drinking game out of it; a sip for every time he makes the stereotypical joke of ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy’.

Well, it was a sip the first time. A slightly larger gulp the second time. A chugging of half your drink the third time.

“There’s no fucking way,” Steve laments at the table the boys as well as a few guests you don’t recognize have taken over for a game of strip poker, “Jonathan is cheating. Or counting cards.”

“I concur,” Eddie mutters around his cigarette, scowling at his losing hand.

“You’re also cheating, asshole. This is the first round you’ve lost the entire game.”

“Or maybe I’m just really good at cards, Harrington.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, maybe I’m really good at-”

“He’s not cheating,” Nancy interrupts with a sigh from the couch, lounging as she’s served as a referee of sorts for the group. Her entire body weight is draped against Robin, and you’re certainly not going to comment on Robin’s hands toying with her permed locks, “Stop being a sore loser and just strip.”

You get why Steve was the most upset. He was down to his underwear and socks, corset tossed somewhere far behind him and bunny ears placed on Robin’s head in place of her pirate hat that she had claimed became too warm.

“I think Steve should trade both socks and put back on the bunny ears,” she quips as she reaches up for the headband, flicking at one of the floppy ears, “He’d look cuter that way.”

“Fuck off,” he snaps, throwing up a middle finger as Argyle finally loses his shirt.

When your attention has drifted, you know he did exactly that, though.

The game had been boring you half to death, honestly. Watching Steve strip without fail every round, hearing the loud cheers from Argyle when he managed to win a few rounds in a row and exclaimed it was a turkey (it had taken a ten minute intermission to explain to him that was bowling, not poker), watching a few of the girls that Steve had invited fawn over him as they carefully removed boots and gloves when they lost – none of it sparked your interest. The only saving grace had been every smug look Eddie offered as he’d win, time and time again. So far, he’d only lost his boots.

He was hot when he was cocky. There was no way around it.

And now, as he carefully pondered as to which part of his precious costume to part with, you were on the edge of your seat. He was lovely and enticing when he was excited, when he was jubilant with victory, but as a sore loser?

Dear God, Eddie Munson was a gorgeous specimen with a pout on his lips.

“Trying to decide what to take off, Munson?” Jonathan notices the way Eddie is hesitating, even through the offset of conversations that had sparked up in the brief pause amongst the growing group.

You lean forward on the couch, almost subconsciously.

You don’t care what Stacy from Steve’s job thinks of their manager or the latest drama ongoing there, and Steve would probably agree with you if it weren’t for Stacy’s all-red, latex Devil costume.

Eddie scoffs, waving a hand over his attire, “Obviously. You know, it’s not easy to choose when you have a costume as damn good as mine.”

“What? Don’t think you’ll be as pretty without your hat?” you decide to contribute to the teasing, shocking yourself in the process.

The last thing you should do when you’re staring him down in this way, is bring attention to yourself. And yet you were, like some fucking idiot with a death wish.

“You think I’m pretty?”

It’s the fluttering of his lashes as he says it that gives you the courage. They match all that fluttering in your stomach, all that buzzing across your nerves. Because – yeah, you thought he was real fucking pretty. You’d spent the last half hour imagining how pretty he’d look in all sorts of places, too, especially between your sheets and between your thighs.

You’re up off the couch, taking confident steps towards where he’s seated at the ground on the other side of the coffee table. It’s a little inconvenient now, but it had been a blessing in disguise for most of the game as you’d had a front row seat to the sight of him.

“Oh, don’t get ahead of yourself,” you tease, entirely ignoring that lightheaded feeling you get anytime Eddie looks up at you this way. Half-lidded eyes, crooked grin. He’s dangerous and he doesn’t even know it, “I only meant you were pretty with the hat.”

“You wound me,” he gasps, dropping back on his hands dramatically, his pout now for dramatics rather than genuine, “Gonna stand there and tell me I’m not pretty when I dressed up just for you?”

You have to take a deep breath to compose yourself, cross your arms to steady your guard, “Just for me?”

He was playing that same old, tired game of yours. The same dance the two of you had memorized the steps to – and something inside of you has grown restless of it. You don’t want to keep skirting around each other with double-meaning jokes, you don’t want to keep painting humor over your flirtatious remarks. You want a damn answer to the age old question of will they, won’t they?

And you want that answer to be will they – terribly, terribly so.

His eyes trail along the room slowly, not avoiding you but trying to draw out the anticipation in you as he sucks in a breath, “Okay, and maybe for Steve. And Nancy. And Argyle. And Jonathan. And- Well, I’d say Robin, but I don’t think she’s looked twice in my direction all night.”

“I haven’t,” the brunette chirps happily from the couch, still letting the weight of Nancy comfortably dig into her.

You have no idea how she’s tuned into the conversation, given the way most of everyone else around the room was entirely ignoring the two of you.

“So,” you all but purr, leaning down to be more level with Eddie. You already know where his focus wanders when his eyes don’t meet yours, “Not just for me, cowboy.”

He’s distracted, staring at your chest as you notice him slip up in his brave facade for a second. Almost as though you’ve gone too far, pushed the limits a bit too hard. Good. You want to break this. You want to shatter whatever cage the two of you have built.

In one smooth movement, your hand reaches out and snatches the hat right off his head.

He lets out a yelp and tries to grab it away from you, but you have the advantage as you stand up straight once more. Your free hand reaches up and tears off the cat ears you had donned, and in their place, the hat is deposited.

It fits you a little big, and you nearly make a joke about the size of Eddie’s head.

“Hey!” he argues, moving as though he might stand up and put up more of a fight, “I didn’t say the hat is what I wanted to take off.”

“Took too long,” you shrug innocently.

“Yeah, well, just carefully add it to the pile,” he jabs his thumb over his shoulder, towards his boots, as he relaxes back into his recline.

You should probably behave yourself.

“No.”

But this is more fun.

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up in shot, disappearing behind the bangs that are flattened far more than usual. The entire crown of his head is absolutely crushed. No sign of his usual frizzy roots and unruly volume, “No?”

“No,” you confirm a second time.

And you’re done with this game of back and forth.

The hat’s staying on your head. It smells ever so faintly of his shampoo, the slightest whiff of his cologne even, and it’s staying on your head for the exact reason he believes is about to be a gotcha! moment.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he’s just tipsy enough that he’s not putting on any specific accent. Instead, his natural Appalachian accent inherited from his uncle begins to break the surface, “Surely you know about the hat rule.”

Damn right, you know about the hat rule.

You cross your arms, huff a little, tilt the hat for effect, “The hat rule? Please, enlighten me.”

“You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.”

Perfect.

You don’t even attempt any sort of surprised act. No exaggerated gasps, no fumbling to remove the hat. You knew all about this rule, and it had been one of the first things to come to mind when you’d seen him enter this damn party with the hat on.

“Yeah?” you question, mocking raising your eyebrows at best, “Hm. What a shame.”

And then you turn on your heel, not awaiting a single response from Eddie as you escape to the kitchen.

You almost wish you would have stayed an extra second to properly witness his reaction. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s gone pretty and pink, a flustered mess for at least a second as low laughter sounds from the rest of your friends. A tell-tale snort from Robin, and a silent cackle from Nancy. You swear you even pick up on one of the extra guests muttering a confused what just happened? that goes entirely unanswered.

Strip poker doesn’t continue on for long after that.

You refill your drink, this time sans the alcohol, and return to find Steve has officially begun to call for cabs to the club. He busies away on his phone as everyone debates who’s riding with who, the entire party slowly coming to life as everyone stands to prepare to leave for the main attraction.

When you meet Eddie’s gaze from across the room, the shadow of the brim of his hat cutting into your vision a little, his cheeks match the cranberry juice in your cup.

Good.

—

The ride to the club is a blur, and all that really stands out to you is that Eddie makes sure he does not ride in the same cab as you.

Which is fine. Really. It doesn’t cause a single spark of panic in your chest. Not one.

You’re definitely not working yourself up over the thought that your plan is crumbling right before your eyes, that you’ve gone too far and entirely misinterpreted everything Eddie has ever done during your entire friendship. You’re not mulling over every dirty joke, not dissecting every single line that felt like he was flirting with you and attempting to look at it with fresh eyes. No, the entire ride to the club, you are definitely not beating a dead horse dead.

Maybe you should have set off to ride the dead horse and not the cowboy. Maybe, then, Eddie would have gotten into the fucking cab with you.

Your anxieties only worsen once you get inside the club. Pulsing beneath your skin, right in rhythm with the music. Your entire group had each been handed a drink ticket on your way in, and you had noted the fact that the girls of the group were slipped extra tickets.

Nancy had given all her tickets to Robin, and Steve had given his singular ticket to Stacy.

“So,” Robin runs up to your side, Nancy not far behind, “Do we waste our drink tickets on shots or real drinks?”

“Real drinks,” you immediately reply, eyes scanning the bouncing crowd for a certain head of curly hair, “Shots are… well, they can be cheap. We can just avoid the top-shelf shit.”

Was Eddie really going to ignore you the entire night?

He needed his hat. He couldn’t ignore you the entire night.

“You’re right,” Robin shuffles the drink tickets in her hands, turning to Nancy, “On a scale of one to ten, how bad would it be me to ask you to flirt with men to get me-”

“Give me ten minutes and I’ll have us a round.”

Nancy’s smile is sweet, courteous, as she gives Robin’s shoulder a squeeze on her way past her.

Where the fuck is Eddie?

“Did you see where the guys ran off to?” you blurt out. Most of the guys, aside from Steve, took the same cab.

Robin also joins you in a quick survey of the club, lifting onto her tippy toes to squint over the current light show, “Honestly? I have no idea.”

Fuck.

As she drops back down onto her heels, Robin looks at you knowingly, eyes flicking up between your twisted expression and the hat on your head.

“Trying to find a certain cowboy?”

“What?” you look at her, already defensive, even if it was stupid at this point. Who cares if everyone knows you have a crush on Eddie? Who cares if everyone finds out the very foundations of your friendship with him were built upon quite a bit of truth? “I mean- yeah, he kind of needs his hat to complete his outfit.”

“Should have just given him your ears for an even trade,” Robin shrugs, clinging to your elbow to avoid getting separated as a few bodies push past the two of you, “I’m sure he’ll pop up soon enough, though. Besides, I don’t think anyone’s too focused on what everyone’s costumes are as long as they’re… well…”

“Slutted out,” you finish for her flatly, trying to not get jealous as your eyes look across the sweaty crowd, stomach churning as you wonder how many other sexy black cats in the crowd would be approaching your cowboy.

You fucked up. You shouldn’t have taken his hat.

“Exactly!” she’s excited, unaware of your crisis, already moving along from the topic as she spots Nancy somewhere near the bar top, “Look, free shots!”

The free shots don’t do much to quell your unease, but free alcohol is always nice.

You take the liquid down, burn and all, more than willingly. And then again, not even five minutes later when Nancy has caught the attention of another random man at the end of the bar. You almost partake in a third, but you finally hear a familiar voice saying a far too familiar joke.

“You know what they say,” he’s flirting – he’s using a tone of voice that he has never used with you, and it’s clear he’s fucking flirting, “Save a horse, ride a cowboy.”

Instead of continuing your drinking game from Steve’s apartment, you slam the shot back down and mutter some sorry excuse of being right back to Robin and Nancy before taking off in the direction of Eddie.

He’s stood a few stools down at the bar, hands leaning against the worn wood as his arms bracket a pretty blonde. It almost looks as if the line might be working on her.

“If you’re a cowboy,” she giggles, and you almost stop dead in your tracks, “Then where’s your hat?”

Well, that’s as good of a queue for your arrival if any.

“Good question,” you pipe up as you take a few brave steps towards him, “Where is your hat, cowboy?”

You’d expected him to be angry, or startled, or possibly even immediately take off running in the opposite direction of you. He doesn’t.

He slowly turns, and his flirtatious smile has turned into more of a salacious grin as he faces you, “Well, well, well. Nice of you to join us, Kitty.”

The blonde looks between you two a few times before shimmying down off her stool, “I think…. I’m gonna go. Nice to meet you, cowboy.”

You expect Eddie to react, but he hardly does. A quick glance in her direction, a pathetic wave.

You’ve just trampled over one of his chances of getting properly lucky tonight, and he isn’t even phased.

“Been lookin’ for you,” you mumble, looking over him. His hair seems to have been unstuck from his scalp a little, at least. As though he may have been running his hands through it repeatedly, “Thought you might have gone home without your hat.”

“Not a chance. I haven’t forgotten about the rule, you know.”

Something twists in you, deep in your gut, between your hips.

“No?” you hold your breath as he leans in a bit closer to you to be able to hear over the music, “Good thing I haven’t either.”

He tilts his head, eyes glittering in the multi-colored lights, “You haven’t? Then that means you’ll be giving it back, right?”

Over my dead body.

You’re on a mission tonight. You’ll either be ending this night in sore disappointment, drinking away your sorrows of rejection, or you’ll be ending up in a bed with Eddie. It’s up to him.

You lift a hand to the worn rim, tugging it a bit more securely onto your head, “Not a chance, Munson. You know where to find me once you’re done playing around.”

As soon as your fingers leave the rim, holding tense eye contact with him, his own hand is coming up. You tense, worried he’s about to steal the hat back now, but he doesn’t. Instead, his fingers pinch the same spot yours just had, slow tracing over the rim as his tongue darts out to carefully wet his bottom lip.

From the front point, around to the side. When he reaches the bit above your ear, his touch drops to your cheek and tucks back some of the baby hairs sticking to your skin with sweat.

“I do, don’t I?” he hums, voice dropping a bit lower, focused entirely on you. “I don’t think I’m the one playing around right now, though, Kitty.”

Does he think you’re joking? Does he actually, genuinely think this is all a game to you?

You nearly make the decision to grab him right there, right at this moment, and shatter all the tension. Get his lips on yours and drag him into the darkest corner just to prove to him how serious you truly were.

Suddenly, his hand drops away from you entirely, and you almost want to whine. You miss that warmth, that feathery caress, until it aches. “It’s okay, though. Always knew cats were playful things.”

Is there a dark corner somewhere near you two? Is there a dark hallway to drag him into? Just enough shadow to cover all the sins you’re desperate to commit, just enough light to see that blush rise across his cheeks again.

“I’m not playing,” you whisper, eyes drifting down to his hand cradling a glass. Something deep and russet, just like his eyes. Likely whiskey. You wonder if you’d be able to taste it all over his tongue before you had him putting it to work where you need him most right now. “Whenever you get that through your big head, come find me.”

“Big head?” he throws his head back in a laugh, and the tension mists away in seconds. “Who says I have a big head?”

“I do, as the one wearing your hat,” you readjust it for emphasis.

You thought the tension had misted away until he’s smirking, tsking a little, “Oh, thought you meant the other one.”

It’s a replay of the scene in Steve’s apartment, but this time, the roles are reversed. You’re the one left in shock, mouth agape, as Eddie spins around and walks away, leaving you to sit with what he’s just said.

“Bastard,” you breathe out as you watch him disappear in the crowd, eyes locked on his broad shoulders until one too many bodies separate the two of you.

A bastard you want awfully, terribly, bad.

—

You wish you could say you threw back drink, after drink, after drink. You wish you could say you danced with a hundred different beautiful strangers, and each one strayed your mind farther from Eddie.

You wish you could say you did anything but what the reality of your night had been.

A few men had approached you, only to be turned down repeatedly. Most of your night was spent all but moping at the bar, eyes diligently scanning the bouncing crowd for a certain curly haired figure that seemed to escape you. One moment, you’d catch him pressed against a flirty stranger, hands holding onto whatever bare skin was available to him. And then, his eyes would find yours, and there would be a spark; a wink, a smile, a whisper across a bustling room daring you to come out and play with him.

You never did. You’d look away, take a sip of your plain coke, and wait a few seconds until it was safe to look back and find him seemingly vanished.

That in itself had started to become a game. Just like the hat, weighing heavy on your head.

You’re starting to accept that maybe you had just been a bit too brave. You’d jumped the gun, flown feet first into cold and ragged waters you weren’t prepared to navigate. You knew you wanted a change with Eddie, but were you ready? If you had been, you would have accepted one of his various invites. Would have strode across the room, shoved away whatever man or woman he was dancing with, and slotted yourself into their place. You would have been swaying your hips in rhythm with his rather than allowing him to cycle through strangers, and you’d be reminding him that you wore his hat.

You’d be the one bringing up the hat rule to him consistently, not him to you.

When the night begins to wane, you’ve already talked yourself out of it all.

“I’m heading out,” you announce to Robin when she finally returns back to where you’ve sat at the bar to babysit their drinks, hopping down from the stool before she could argue, “I’m getting way too tired.”

“What?” your friend gasps, face pink from the heat of being in the crowd, a shimmering sheen of sweat across her forehead, “No! Stay! We can take turns watching the drinks, or just-”

“Robs,” you smile as sweetly as possible, patting yourself down to make sure you have all your belongings. A whistle sounds from a group down the way at the bar, and you ignore them, “It’s seriously okay. You’re having fun! I’m just a senior citizen who needs some sleep. My bedtime was like…. An hour ago.”

You highly doubt you’ll be getting any rest when you return to your apartment. Maybe some confidence can be built out of fantasies, letting your hands wander and sheets catch fire with all that could have been if you hadn’t talked yourself out of your perfect plan.

Maybe, imagining Eddie’s hot hands on you rather than getting to properly feel them will light a damn fire under your ass for the next opportunity that arises.

“I…” she sighs, glancing over her shoulder in the general direction of Nancy, “Okay, fine. But do we want to do brunch or something tomorrow?”

Not a chance, you think rather quickly, eyes scanning once more for the metal-head-turned-cowboy. Not if Eddie’s going to be there.

“Sure,” you lie, already knowing he will be there, “Just text me.”

With that, you make your grand escape.

Borrowed hat on head, phone in hand, you push your way out of the club with a newfound determination. You want to get home and take off this uncomfortable dress, finally do away with the thigh highs that have been rolling down at the most inconvenient of times, driving you insane the entire night. Trade the sexy attire for something comfy – stay true to the cat essence as you curl up beneath your blankets for the night. Hang that damn cowboy hat on your door as a cursed reminder-

“Where do you think you’re going, Kitty?”

You stop a few feet short of the curb, a cab ordered as you turn to find that bastard leaning against the wall. Cigarette smoke is still clinging to the air around him as he looks at you curiously.

“Home,” you shrug, trying to ignore your pounding heart. You’d figured you wouldn’t see him again tonight, that your fate had been sealed. “What are you doing out here?”

“Smoke break,” he lifts his hand with the cigarette pinched between two fingers casually, pushing off the wall to come closer, “It’s hard work, keeping you entertained all night.”

You scoff, falling back into what’s almost a normal rhythm for you two, “You were not the one keeping me entertained all night.”

“I hardly saw you dance with anyone at all.”

“I did!” you try to defend yourself, deciding this could be fine. Some casual conversation as you wait for your ride, a way to pass the time. This is fine. “Robin dragged me out into the crowd at least twice.”

“I watched you swat a guy’s hands away not once, but three times.”

“Unsolicited touching isn’t a compliment. He should have taken the hint the first time.”

Eddie nods in eager agreement, taking another drag of his cigarette, “Damn right. If he had gone in for a fourth try, I was considering dragging him out here for an early smoke break.”

“Why do I highly doubt it would just be a smoke break?” you question, glancing at him with a smile. Scandalous plans aside for the night, embarrassment swallowed down whole, it’s nice to remember that Eddie is a friend. Albeit a bit flirty, and capable of driving you fucking insane, but he’s a friend.

And maybe that isn’t the worst thing in the world.

“Oh, no, yeah. You’d be posting my bail.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’ve got my hat, ” he reaches out and flicks the brim with his free hand, and you freeze up a little. You had hoped he wouldn’t mention it again, “Kind of makes me your problem until the end of the night. Speaking of….”

You already know what he’s about to request as he trails off. This is it. You either give up the bit, hand the hat back over, and go home for the night – or you make one final attempt to get what you had wanted.

Eddie. You wanted Eddie, as more than a friend.

“I’m gonna need that back, sweetheart.”

At least he’s asking politely, you consider, before it hits you why he’s asking rather than taking.

The looks across the room. The way he’d been unbothered by the girl he’d been flirting with running off at your appearance. The way he never just took back that fucking hat when he’d been provided ample opportunity.

He thinks it’s a game for you, and keeps bringing it up, because it isn’t for him. He’s giving you one last chance to back out, or to stand your ground. To say you really want this.

And fuck, you really want this.

“Nope,” you lean into his space, pressing closer, fully committed. Your phone dings with the notification of your ride approaching, and you fully ignore it. “My hat now, cowboy.”

He quirks an eyebrow, and you hear the crunch of gravel behind you. Your ride. “Is that so?”

“Yep.”

Another ding, another buzz of your phone.

Go ahead. Bring up the hat rule.

“That your ride?” he asks, tilting his chin in the direction of the car.

You glance over your shoulder, “Pretty sure it is, yeah.”

“And you remember the hat rule?”

Your stomach twists with excitement. Your previous pity party is long forgotten – you’re still hoping to get out of this dress, but you highly doubt you’ll be slipping anything on after it. “I do.”

“Great,” those hot hands you’d been fantasizing about the entire night suddenly reach out to you, gripping your hips tightly as he tugs you into his body. You collide with his chest as he leans down and whispers in your ear, “In that case, that’s my pussy now.”

His lips linger against the shell of your ear an extra second, warm breath sending chills up your spine before he’s keeping an arm around your shoulders as he guides you to the car. His cologne and the scent of tobacco is suffocating, and you crave to drown in it. You want him to consume you; you want him to take over every breath you breathe, every move you make, to finally get those hot hands and lips everywhere you’ve only dreamt of.

You barely hear him confirm with the driver that it is in fact your ride – you can only focus on that hand on your lower back, palm heavy on you as his thumb traces arcs that nearly spend you spiraling.

“After you, kitty,” he murmurs, motioning for you to slide into the backseat first.

In that case, that’s my pussy now.

You hope he ruins you.

In the backseat of the ride, it’s all polite distance and hands to yourself. You can’t even make eye contact with the driver, terrified he might be able to mindread and see all the filthy thoughts racing through your head.

Eddie between your thighs, mouthing at your hips.

Eddie hovering over you, pulling your knees to your chest as he stretches you out.

Eddie, proving that your pussy is in fact his for the night. That it was made for him, sculpted out to fit the curvature and every single vein of him.

Eddie simply fucking your brains out.

Some polite conversation is exchanged, mostly between Eddie and the driver. The classic questioning of how the night has gone, small talk that buzzes in your ears mindlessly.

The entire time, you can see Eddie’s hand in the space between you two, fingers tapping away at dark leather incessantly. His rings shimmer like a siren calling to you.

It’s a small movement, when your own hand drops near his. You keep your eyes trained forward once you begin your mission, inching your pinky closer and closer until it finally collides with his. You swear, you feel him fully jump out of his seat.

Slowly warming the water, you start off simple – playing with his fingers. Gentle caresses over his knuckles, little pricks to the pads of his fingers. He tries to capture your hand in his, but you have bigger plans at play here.

You’ve spent the entire fucking night waiting for this. You’re going to have fun with it.

He huffs after you deter his second attempt at properly holding hands, his knees falling apart a little further. You twist at the ring on his middle finger, a clunky skull you’ve always admired. It has minimal signs of wear, probably pure silver if you had to guess, and you can only imagine how cold it’s going to feel against your skin.

You can only imagine the imprints it’ll leave if he grabs your hips just right.

“You know,” the driver hums mindlessly over the low volume of the radio, “You guys are my first ride of the night, surprisingly. Thought it might be busier with all the parties and clubs, but I think it’s just barely picking up now.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks politely, nodding as he looks out his window. Perfect, “I think you’re right. It is getting pretty late-”

He’s entirely distracted, your hand out of his line of sight as it moves in on its target.

His thigh.

Just a few inches above his knee, your hand grips at what is clearly sensitive flesh. You watch his entire body turn to stone when you do it, and he moves his head quickly to look in your direction.

You’re looking straight ahead.

There had been a time, a few weeks ago, where you’d learned Eddie had… sensitive knees. You’d been joking around about one thing or another, and when your palms had gripped at them through the torn fabric of ripped jeans, he’d nearly launched himself across the room. He just kept insisting they were ticklish, that that skin was just delicate.

You’d seen the tent in his jeans then. You’d just been a bit more polite, a bit better behaved that day.

“What are you doing?” he hisses in a whisper, reaching for your hand, but you’re quick to slide it even higher.

His hips jump a little, and the driver is none the wiser.

“Nothing,” you innocently say, still looking ahead, watching the passing streetlights with intense interest. “Absolutely nothing at all.”

The entire ride, at every red light, your hand inches higher.

And every time, you relish the way he squirms in your peripherals.

By the time you’re five minutes out from your place, you’ve riled him up to impossible heights. Every little noise has him on edge, constant twitching and shifting in his seat as he tries to get you to just look at him. You know he’s catching every sly smile that attempts to creep up on your lips – you’re pathetically failing at every turn to cover them up.

You think you have him like putty in your palms as you give yet another squeeze to his thigh, fingers starting to dance up even higher. When your eyes flicker to his crotch for just a second, you see him straining against that tight leather.

And then he flips the script.

You’re so focused on your own goals, you never see that ringed hand creep to your own thigh. It’s not until cool metal nips at you, briefly, before you feel the warmth of his hand overtake, that you realize the predicament you’ve gotten into.

Just as your hand was beginning to skim over his crotch, Eddie’s hand found solace between the meat of your thighs. Even as you try to clench them together, deny him the access he was seeking out, he finds his way in. Scandalous fingers dipping under the hem of your dress, fighting fire with fire when he lets his middle finger brush across the fabric of your underwear.

Your touch from him nearly retracts entirely.

“What?” he leans in closer to you, the driver still focused on the road, “Don’t like a taste of your own medicine?”

As he says it, his fingers dip lower. Hovering right over your protected clit, making your entire abdomen clench.

You swallow hard, a bit of your jagged pride somewhere amongst the spit as you turn your head to look at him, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Still playing games I see.”

In sync, the two of you lock eyes as you continue to test waters. You apply pressure with your palm and note the way his breathing hitches, and he draws a feather-light circle around the wet patch forming in your underwear. You can feel your bottom lip quiver as you try to refuse to give him any satisfaction, but when he’s this close, it’s a hopeless battle.

When had he gotten so near you? What happened to all that static distance from when you’d first crawled into the backseat?

You’re trying to only focus on your own hand. Eyes darting to guarantee the driver is still oblivious as you roll the heel of your hand harder against the seam of his pants, and biting your lip to hold back a successful grin when he has to cover a gasp with a cough. It’s all fun and games until the action is rewarded with his payback; his knuckle curling up against your cunt through your panties, pressing in hard before slowly sliding his way up, up, up.

He deliberately stops when he catches on your clit, and you’re the one coughing now.

“Had enough?” he mutters under his breath, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. He looks good in this lighting, flashes of the streetlights bathing him in soft yellow, headlights of other cars fluttering in through the windshield as they hit his brown eyes just right to bronze them.

“Never.”

You almost think you’ve won when his knuckle pulls back.

But suddenly, his entire hand is cupping your cunt, two fingers pressing against your fluttering hole as another drags up your slit slowly once more. This time, when he reaches your clit, he continues moving in small circles.

You have to bite your lip to hold back any noises, eyes closing for just a second as you hear him huff out a laugh.

The final damnation is when he brings his lips to your bare shoulder, merely grazing your skin with them as he mumbles, “You sure about that, Kitty?”

You clench around nothing, and you know when he feels it from where his fingers remain pressed against you. His own hand twitches as the finger circling your clit stutters for a moment.

“I-”

“We’re here!” the driver says, not having looked into the backseat yet as he finds a safe place to pull the car into. In an instant, you and Eddie remove your hands from each other. You’re both visibly flustered – you can feel how warm your cheeks have gotten, and you can see clouds of pink splattering over Eddie’s chest and neck.

“Thanks,” Eddie is the one to speak up as the car comes to a halt, not even waiting for the driver to put the vehicle in park as he throws the door open.

A bit rushed, but still polite as ever before he’s grabbing you by your bicep to pull you out of the cramped space right along with him.

You can hardly muster a weak wave to the man as Eddie is dragging you towards your apartment building, knees still a bit weak and mind still blank after getting a taste of your own medicine, as Eddie had put it.

He doesn’t let go of you until you’re at your front door, those cursed shaking hands of yours fumbling with your key ring.

“Here, let me-” he starts to offer, reaching for the keys that continue to clank together, just as you find the one you’re looking for.

“I’ve got it-” you try to cut him off, just as you drop the fucking keys in your haste. “Shit.”

You quickly drop to the ground to grab them, pausing once you have the metal digging into your palms once more. There’s no real reason for you to do it, but you do – you take a second to look up at Eddie from this position, and nearly drool at the sight of it.

Him, standing over you, still a bit flushed and still visibly uncomfortable in his pants. Pretty curls a mess and lips darkening from how much he’s been biting them.

You want him to ruin you. You want him to absolutely, entirely and utterly destroy you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he laughs, chest heaving a bit as he watches you carefully, pupils slowly growing in the dim light of your building’s hallway.

You can see his bare torso clenching, the twitch of his hands at his sides – the same fingers that had just been caressing you over your underwear in the backseat of a stranger’s car.

“Like what?” you’re dragging out the moment, taking time to appreciate the sight of him.

“Like you want me to just press you up against the wall and fuck you out here, for everyone to see.”

That’s a new one. That’s a vision that hadn’t come to you in all your dirtiest dreams of the night.

It sends your clit throbbing.

You rise slowly, pushing the hat back a bit to see him better, keeping your voice quiet so your neighbors won’t hear as you ask, “Would you? If I asked nicely?”

He doesn’t let out a laugh, but a breath of air, like you’ve just sucked all of the oxygen out of his lungs.

No need to say it – you know he would. You probably wouldn’t even have to ask nicely.

You’re staring at him when he finally moves, one hand snatching your keys out of your hand and the other gripping you around the waist. Back to pulling you, man-handling you to get you right where he wants you – where he needs you.

One second, you’re pressed against his body in the hallway. The next, he’s managed to unlock your front door and throw you both into the safety of your apartment.

Hidden from the world, and you’re still reeling as you wonder what it’d be like for the entire building to witness you calling out his name. Or him calling out your name.

Here within these four walls, Eddie has put some space between the two of you, staring with blown out eyes and a shaking chest as he breathes out, “Sweetheart.”

A few seconds pass, the two of you just standing there, the click of the front door’s lock being the only thing echoing in the silence. If you focused over the roar of the blood pounding in your ears, you might catch every single gasp of his as he stares in awe – but your focus is elsewhere. Far away and out of grasp for the time being. You can only think of one thing, and one thing only.

Your body isn’t your own as you move to get exactly what you want; you drop to your knees hard enough that you should cringe at the thought of the pain that will linger, possibly for days, but it doesn’t even cross your mind as your hands begin to fumble with Eddie’s pants. The oversized, gaudy belt buckle is in your way, glinting at you as if mocking the way your shaking hands can’t undo it fast enough. You’re about to give up and just start unzipping the leather pants, desperate to get your hands, and your mouth, and your eyes on him properly, when he stops you.

“Hey,” he sounds breathless - he is breathless - as his own hands quiver a bit and grab onto yours, “Hey, hey, hey. Slow down.”

Those hands let go of your wrists and reach for the hat, and you’re quick to try and swat them away only for him to grab at you, surprisingly gentle, as he drags you back up to your feet.

“Wear the hat, ride the cowboy – right?” you insist, chin held high, your gaze refusing to waver from his.

His slow and buttery grin makes you lightheaded, his low chuckle sends shakes through every nerve and bone. “That’s right, but maybe the cowboy wants to take his time. Ever think of that, hm?”

Were you moving too fast? Were you going to scare him off?��

Small, baby steps are taken by Eddie, the click of his heels shattering against your wooden floors until his hips are flush with yours.

And - oh.

Oh.

That surely didn’t feel like you were scaring him off.

You could feel the outline of his cock, hard against your hip, as he gives a little roll. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth, nostrils flaring with a hard breath, and the fear leaves as quickly as it had arrived.

He wants this. You want him.

“I’m not a very patient person,” you murmur, eyes glued to his lips now as his head leans in closer, and his hands begin to explore your body. Taking their time as they travel down your arms from where he’d held onto your biceps, slowing as they reach your wrists. Even the press of his thumb against the sensitive inner skin there sends jolts up your spine, little gasps attempting to escape your mouth.

His fingers tangle loosely with your own for a few moments before his palms find your hips, and he continues his journey.

“That’s okay,” he whispers back, close enough now that his lips have begun to brush against your own. His nose bumps yours as his hands skate up over your ribcage, thumb sweeping out over the hill of your breast and intentionally avoiding your nipple, “I can teach you, baby.”

Your mouth finally collides with him at the words, nearly going limp in his arms at the words.

You’ve thought about kissing Eddie for a while now. Every time a snarky remark fell from his lips, you’d wonder how his tongue might taste afterwards. Every time he’d pout his lips at one of your comebacks, or blow a kiss teasingly in your direction from across a room, you’d wonder how hard you might have to bite down to make him bleed. Every drag of a cigarette you’d witnessed, every hard gasp in faux offense, every breathless chuckle at a joke he didn’t want to find funny but did – you had spent a lot of time wondering what it might be like to steal all the air from his lungs, to kiss him until the two of you were both blue in the face.

“Can’t the lesson wait until tomorrow?” you mumble against him as his mouth, your own fists now gripping onto the lapels of his vest. His hands have reached your shoulders, memorizing the outlines of the curve of your neck where it meets your collarbones, the slope of your chest as you take hot and heavy breaths.

“Nope,” he insists, pulling back from the kiss, a little bit of spit on his pink lips, “But it’s nice to know you’re thinking about tomorrow.”

A hand finally finds your chin and pinches it carefully between his thumb and fingers, a careful grip on you to angle you just right so he can all but devour you. Lips, tongues, teeth – it’s a messy ordeal, and you almost make a smart-ass remark that this kiss doesn’t feel very patient.

But you can’t. Eddie’s taken away all your breaths, all your words, as he starts to guide you backwards.

Your knees hit the cushions of your sofa, making you jump back from him with a gasp, palms going flat against his chest.

He feels good. Tender skin soft to the touch beneath your hand, tattoos tempting to trace the outline of. Later.

“Figured you might want a more comfortable ride,” he laughs against you, breath smelling ever so faintly of mint and whiskey washing over you, before he dips to mouth away at your neck.

You drop back onto the sofa, bite your tongue on a comment about how this cheap piece of furniture most definitely wasn’t the most comfortable option, simply eager at the fact he was letting this move along.

You want him, you need him, and you have no time for patience.

His exploration of touches have lit you aflame, and you’re growing a bit desperate at this point. It might be pathetic, it should be embarrassing, but you really don’t care.

“By all means,” you break out of his hold entirely, catching the way his hand holding your chin lingers a few extra seconds, reluctant to let you go, “Take your seat, Cowboy.”

He joins you on the couch, eyes never leaving yours even as he throws himself down. Knees spread wide, inviting lap on show, cock still straining against his pants.

The best seat in the house, as far as you’re concerned.

“You just gonna keep starin’,” he mocks lightly, looking you over slowly. Taking his time, you suppose, “Or you gonna get over here?”

His words are all you need. You’re quick to climb onto his lap, swinging your legs so that each thigh brackets his hips, your cunt pressing down on crotch carelessly. You love the way it feels – the outline of him hard against you, the cooling effect of the leather, the sharp edges of the zipper catching just right.

“There,” he huffs out, grabbing onto you when you give the slightest roll of your hips, “Now we’re both in our seats.”

When you go to press down harder, guiding yourself over his lap, hands steadying you by gripping his shoulders, he surprises you by his hips jumping up to meet your slow rhythm.

“What happened to being patient?” you try to tease him right back as your forehead meets his, hat comically struggling to stay on between the two of you, “Thought you were gonna take your time with me-”

“Between you and me, I’m not gonna last,” he pants out, hands finding your hips. Those rings you’d been fantasizing of leaving an imprint on you are doing just that as he guides you, “Been dreaming of you too long, sweetheart. Wanted this for so long.”

Your heart nearly stops. Your hips stutter, pausing as his words rush over you.

“What?”

Your head lifts away from his completely, grip on his shoulders tightening.

He’s wanted this, too? This entire time?

Eddie takes your pause as a bad thing, a terrible omen as his face pales, “I mean- I just-”

“Munson,” you say lowly, narrowing your eyes at him, “You’re telling me, this entire time, you’ve been flirting with me?”

Had that tone he used with the girl at the bar been flirting as you’d thought, or simple for show? You’d so cluelessly assumed he’d never used that tone with you because he’d never genuinely flirted with you – and yet, it seems, he’d never used that tone because he’d been genuinely flirting with you.

“I-” his cheeks are brilliant red, and the wide eyes are from something different than lust now, “Maybe?”

“Maybe?” you almost laugh, throwing your head back. The hat falls off, but Eddie is quick to retrieve it, “My God, we’re fucking idiots.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who stole my hat-”

“I like you, dumb ass,” you state plainly, “I wanted this for a while, too.”

He pauses, one arm outstretched as his hand grips onto the hat, “What?”

“Been thinking about this, too,” your voice drops a little, almost a whisper, even though you two are the only ones in the room. For all you know, you two might be the only two people left in the world with the way he’s looking at you, “Thinking about you and your lips. Thinking ‘bout your hands and the places they’d go,” as you point out every detail, his body seemingly reacts. A lick of his lips, a squeeze of his hand still on your hip, “Thought about your fingers and tongue a lot, too. How good they’d feel inside me.”

His hips thrust up at that, and suddenly, he’s placing his hat back atop your head.

That, it seems, was all the encouragement Eddie needed.

He deals with that belt buckle that had given you hell, bouncing you a bit on his lap as he fumbles with yanking the entire belt off and tossing it to the side. One hand busies with undoing the button and zipper of his jeans, as the other starts to bunch your dress.

“Nice and slow,” he insists, looking up at you, absolutely vibrant. Somewhere between the tightness between your hips, all the throbbing between your thighs and in your chest, you feel a sort of bubbly delight creeping up along your spine. “Got it, kitty?”

You nod once. Twice. On the third nod, he cuts you off with a kiss.

Your dress is up to your waist, and you don’t know how, but he manages to shimmy off his pants without throwing you off his lap entirely. It’s impressive, really. Probably a symptom of him having thought about this, dreamt about this. He’d probably thought up every scenario possible, and was prepared.

“Oh, and these?” his fingers find the waistband of your panties, tsking a little as he pulls at the elastic and lets it slap back against your skin, “Those definitely have to come off.”

“Whatever you say, cowboy.”

You take your time sliding off his lap, making sure to grind against him before you properly lift away. He throws his head back in a groan, Adam’s apple bobbing as you stand up straight. You take that moment to just admire him, capturing the clench of his jaw to memory, the way his eyes screw shut in pleasure at your influence.

He’s fucking perfect. You’re sure there’s others who disagree, but you’d pay them no mind. He’s perfect, and he’s all yours.

You make a show of taking off your panties only once he’s properly looking at you once more, craving his eyes on you as you keep all your movements fluid and steady. No rush, exuding all that patience he’d prattled on about.

You want to see his face when you gently toss the black lacey piece in his direction, watch him fumble with his own desperation to catch them.

“Seems a bit unfair that I’m the only one undressing,” you hum as you go a step further and begin to shimmy out of the dress.

“Yeah, well,” he grins cheekily at you, fisting your panties, a hand trailing down to the waistband of his boxers as he eyes you, “One of us was showing a bit more skin than the other.”

“Take off the vest, Eddie.”

Your command is velvet, and he’s quick to obey. His hand stubbornly refuses to let go of your panties as he rushes to shrug out of the thin fabric over his shoulders, tossing the vest to join his pants and your dress on the floor.

“And the boxers.”

You stand there, in nothing but his cowboy hat, as you wait pretty and patient for him to listen. And listen he does.

The moment his boxers are discarded, his cock is standing at attention, leaking from the tip and deep shade of pink that matches his kiss-bitten lips. You think it might be the prettiest color you’ve ever laid eyes on as you watch a drop of precum slip down his shaft.

He’s pretty, even in the fucking pants.

Girthy, thick enough you almost arch your back before you’ve even sunk down on him. All veins and soft skin, a sensitive tip that you’d trace your tongue over for hours if he let you.

“Gonna just stand there, or are you going to ride your cowboy?”

He surely meant to sound more cocky, but the words come out as more of a whine as you watch him twitch under your stare.

He’s right though, and you’d rather get him inside you than spend another second gawking. There will be time to pay more attention to him and his pretty cock tomorrow. Right now, you need to finish this god-forsaken mission.

Your thighs find his hips just as his hands find yours, choosing to grip the couch rather than his shoulders as you steady yourself.

Nice and slow, his words echo in your mind.

You could have prepared yourself more, but you’d already made it clear to Eddie that you are not a patient person. The fact that you even take your time as you sink down on him, going as far as to grab him by his base and guide his tip to smear precum across your clit, is impressive.

The stretch is a bit painful. A bit much. A bit dizzying. But you refuse to stop as your jaw drops, eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy.

“Fuck,” you breathe out softly as you feel him fill you, “Fuck, Eddie.”

“Feel good, baby?” he questions, reaching up to grab your chin just as he had before. Forcing you closer to him, forcing you to look him in the eyes just as he bottoms out.

You don’t answer him as you both moan out.

You stay there for a second, unmoving as you swim in the feeling. Feeling him press into the depths of you, the overwhelming warmth and the coil in your abdomen tightening ever so slightly.

It’s better than you had imagined it. No daydreams could compare to the feeling of Eddie’s cock finally, finally filling you. Stretching you out, making you his.

“Go ahead,” he grits out, entire body tense, clearly holding out on you, “Ride your cowboy, kitty. Don’t make me ask twice.”

Nice. And. Slow.

Three little words that ricochet through your mind as you start to slowly bounce on him. Lifting ever so slightly, dropping back down, aching to feel him even deeper inside of you. Feeling the quiver of his thighs to match yours as you repeat the action, gasps and whimpers falling from both your lips. You’re about to try and kiss him, try and swallow all those delicate noises from him, when he stops you.

“No, no, no,” he’s chuckling, giving your hips a few squeezes before his palms rub down your thighs, the friction sending you on edge, “C’mon, now. We both know that’s not how you ride.”

His hands rake over your skin, down to your knees, lighting scratching and squeezing along their entire pathway until they make their way back up to your waist and hips.

“Do it like this, sweetheart.”

He guides you, no longer allowing you to lift up. You sink all the way down on his cock, whining out at the fullness, before he starts the pattern.

Back and forth. Gentle circles amidst the rocking. Your clit grazes his pubes, and the coil in between your hips has never tightened more quickly.

The motion feels familiar - like riding a bull.

This feels right. You still press down, still clench down on him hard enough to make you both slip out obscenities, but it’s getting you there.

At some point, Eddie’s grip on your hips slips, but it’s fine – you’ve got the rhythm down perfectly. Slow, intermittent figure eights between the rolls of your hips, his occasionally slamming upward to reward you with that deepness you need. You can feel him in your stomach, in your chest, in your throat.

You get a bit daring, and take one hand to his shoulders, as the other reaches up for the top of the hat on your head.

Just like a cowboy.

“Like this?” you pant out between harsher rolls, eliciting curses that continue to grow louder from Eddie.

“Fuck, baby, yes,” he groans out, head thrown back, mouth open in gratification, “Just like that. Keep- keep going just,” he thrusts up, “Like,” another thrust, “That.”

You nearly lose balance, falling forward a bit, too stubborn to let go of the hat. There’s a grin glimmering at the corners of your mouth, and it fully blooms when Eddie throws up a hand to catch you .

A hand on your throat.

He doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t cut off blood flow or breathing. He keeps that warm palm there at the base of your neck, cradling you, holding you. A reminder that he could squeeze if he wanted, that he held you in the palm of his hands currently, but he won’t.

“You like that?” his eyes shine as he looks up at you, the sight of his rings decorating your neck.

You nod.

“Tell me with your words,” he commands.

“I like it,” you whimper, looking up further, stretching more of your neck to be vulnerable to Eddie. “I like it so much, baby.”

When the pet name falls from your lips, you can feel him twitch inside of you. The sudden jut of his hips, the sharp intake of breath.

“You like that,” you laugh breathlessly, your hand atop the hat the only thing keeping it from falling as you lean your head fully back, eyes beginning to roll back into your head. “Wanna be my baby, Munson?”

“Always have,” he grunts, the hand on your throat slipping up to cup your face to drag you towards him, “Since the fucking moment I met you, sweetheart.”

When he kisses you, it tastes like the closest to Heaven you might ever get. Soft, plump lips, and an eager tongue. All the wasted time hiding behind jokes and teasing, playing pretend like the flirting was never serious.

It was serious. And if you’d just come clean sooner, you would have had this long ago.

Your hips are still rolling as your hands begin to roam. You’ve found your balance again, lips pressed to Eddie, and it’s your turn to explore all he has to give you. Your nails graze his stomach when your clit catches once more on that rough thatch of hair against the base of his cock. Your fingers dig into flesh wherever they can find it – his chest, his arms, his hips. At some point, you throw a hand out behind you, grasping for his knee. Learning every curve and every point of his body as he had done for you.

You wanna memorize the roadmap of him. Take a snapshot in your mind so that next time, none of it is unfamiliar territory.

Your touch is driving him insane; it doesn’t take a genius to pick up on the way his hips falter to meet your movements, or how he keeps breaking the kiss to gasp, letting his jaw fall slack when he hits a particular deep spot within you.

It’s when your lips finally trail down the stubble sprouting across his jawline, mouth sucking on the soft skin below his ear, that he’s finally a goner.

“‘M close,” he gasps out, almost sounding drunk as he slurs through his pants, “Ah, fuck, I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me, Eddie.”

Maybe it’s the way you had been touching him, or the way your cunt had been fluttering around him, or the persistent rolling of your hips that had become so focused on his pleasure. Maybe it was the sight of you in his hat, looking at him like that. Maybe it was the way his name sounded on your tongue.

Either way, when Eddie Munson comes undone, he’s beautiful.

Your own movements slow involuntarily as you gaze starry eyed, watching the way his face scrunches and feeling his grip on you tighten impossibly. Leaving their mark, making you his in yet another way. Warmth fills your cunt and every curse word under the summer sun is falling from his lips.

Your name, curses, prayers, gratitude – a jumbled mess, and it sounds fucking fantastic when it’s said in Eddie’s desperate tone.

“Shit,” he gasps out, finally coming back down to Earth, “Shit.”

You sit still on his lap, skin sticky with sweat, lips spread thin in a cheeky grin, “Sounds like I get to keep your hat, cowboy.”

His eyes shoot open, and for a second, you’re terrified.

Those aren’t the eyes of someone satisfied.

“You didn’t cum.”

“What?”

“You,” he says, stressing the word as he shifts you off his lap. You don’t miss the way he winces, clearly a bit sensitive, “Did not cum.”

You hadn’t really noticed, too wrapped up in him to notice your high slipping away from you. You’d been too focused on Eddie: on feeling him cum inside you, on watching him break apart, on tracing the outline of the blood rushing to his cheeks with your eyes and that fresh burst of violet on his neck in the shape of your lips.

“It’s fine,” you start to argue, feeling the warmth of him leaking down your thighs. You should be a lot more worried about making a mess all over your sofa. You should be, but you aren’t. “I can-”

“You’re not keeping that fucking hat until you cum for me, sweetheart.”

And, oh, maybe your own orgasm wasn’t racing as far away from you as you’d believed, because those words nearly push you over the edge for him.

“Get on all fours for me, baby.”

Yeah. You definitely could still be close. For him.

When you don’t move to follow his command immediately, he’s using those gentle hands to guide you. Encouraging a twist of your hips from how you’re reclining back across the couch, letting you press your cheek down against the cushion.

You open your mouth to argue, to insist it was fine, to say anything, but you’re cut silent when a sudden slap lands on your ass.

A silent command this time, and you’re finally listening.

You lift your ass up for him on shaky knees, elbows digging into the cushion now instead of your face. The hat on your head is lopsided, and you almost reach up to fix it when-

“I’ll be taking that,” For the first time since you’d stolen his hat, Eddie takes it back. Right off your head, too fast for you to protest. When you dig your chin into your shoulder to look back at him, he’s smiling, hat back in its rightful place atop his curls, “You can have it back after you cum for me, at least once.”

“At least once?” you mean to laugh, to sound cocky, but it comes out as more of a squeak.

He shrugs, leaning forward, his bare chest pressing against the skin of your bare ass – right where an imprint of his hand still sings, “At least. By all means, if you feel the need, don’t hesitate to give me a few. God knows you’ve earned it.”

You don’t have time to banter back; he retracts before bring his mouth down to your cunt, and your elbows quickly give out at the first long stride of his tongue.

“Gotta get you cleaned up,” he murmurs, a bit muffled, against your cunt.

Another stride, and this time, his tongue spends an extra second at your clit, circling it salaciously.

“Oh, God,” you moan out into a mouthful of couch cushion, tempted to bite down to hide all the noises creeping up your throat when his tongue draws yet another circle, tip of his nose pressed to your sensitive hole.

He brings his tongue back to that space, that hole that feels gaping without him filling you now, and you try to bury your cheek only to earn another slap on the ass.

“Don’t be shy now, kitty. Let me hear you.”

And let him hear you, you do.

Each lick, short and timid or long and confident, is dredging up obscene mewls from you. When he enters you with it, curling it and pressing as deep as he can, truly cleaning you up as he had said, you’re chanting his name.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you cry softly, rocking your body back against his mouth, “Your fingers. P-Please, use your fingers.”

Your wish is his command as he brings his hand up between your legs, breaking from having his tongue buried inside of you and using a calloused pad of his finger to trace over your clit before he begs, “Say my name again.”

You do. Over, and over, and over as his mouth and his fingers begin to work against you. Careful focus is placed on your clit, and his mouth runs amok between your cunt and thighs. You feel what will no doubt be hickies along the curve of your ass, nips of teeth against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he presses two fingers into you. With every thrust of his hand, your hips are rocking back to match his rhythm, wanting more.

More, more, more.

There’s nothing nice and slow about this. You’re chasing after a high, and Eddie is listening to you every step of the way.

Your thighs begin to shake terribly right around the time your vision blurs, unable to contain the whines that have grown to echoing volumes. Surely, your neighbors can hear. Probably confused as to who Eddie is, probably considering how embarrassing it would be to knock down your door and complain about the noises.

You really, really don’t give a fuck when white speckles flood your vision, even with your eyes screwed shut, and that tension between your hips threatens to snap.

Right before your knees give out, your entire body trembling, Eddie pulls back and grabs your hips. You cry out, so close yet so far, until he’s flipping you back over.

You get one glimpse of him before he goes to work to bring you over that edge – lips and chin slick with you, hair frizzing beneath his hat, a determined glint in his eyes that have your thighs clenching around his ears.

You were right. Eddie Munson looks damn good between your thighs.

He quickly returns to his mitigations, and this time, it’s all a bit more strategic. Lips suctioned around your clit and three fingers curling deep within you, a beckoning motion as he urges you to let go for him.

The white returns behind your eyelids. Your back arches up off the sofa. Your ankles lock as they cross behind Eddie’s back, almost effectively trapping him in place.

You cum hard for him.

You’re entirely unaware if you scream his name in the process, but you hope you do. As that relief, that ecstasy, floods your system, you hope you make sure everyone within a five mile radius knows who’s responsible. Your entire body continues to shake for far longer than you believe it ever has before. Your hips had lifted, begging for Eddie to keep going even as it all grew painful.

He does. He keeps going, sucking you dry for every drop you have to give him, until you’re physically having to shove him away.

Your hands are weak as you sink down into the cushion, eyes still closed as you hear him chuckle before you feel him crawl his way back up your body.

“There,” you don’t even need to see his face to see that smug satisfaction – his voice is dripping in it. “Now you can keep the hat.”

One of your hands blindly throws itself through the air to smack him, missing entirely as you drift through the afterglow of it all.

“I’m not sure I’ve earned it,” you mumble as he catches your wrist, limp in the air, “Pretty sure I didn’t break you when I made you cum.”

“Oh, you did,” he notes, hand curling around your wrist. You watch as he slowly brings it to his lips, peppering a few chaste kisses on the soft skin, “Just in a different way.”

You raise your eyebrows, smiling at the tingling feeling left behind on your skin in the wake of his mouth, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He tugs you to sit up despite your groan of protest, somehow smoothly maneuvering the two of you so that he’s now the one beneath you, letting the full weight of you bear down on his chest as you lay on top of him. The hand wrapped around your wrist brings it back up for more kisses, more repetitive gentle pecks of affection, as his other arm is quick to wrap around you. Holding you in place, as though he’s scared you might disappear.

“Well,” you whisper against the bare skin of his chest, nearly shivering when his free hand starts to trail slowly up and down your spine, “Good.”

Your cheek feels the vibrations of his chuckle, “That’s all you have to say?”

“Give me a few minutes to recover,” you insist, all but nuzzling into him, “I’m sure I’ll have a smartass comeback for you once I’m…” you trail off, heavy eyes looking up at him, the words lost on your tongue and in the air.

The gentle curve of his cupid’s bow. The roundness at the end of his nose, still a fading hue of pink. The freckle beneath his right eye. The way the phantom of the dimple of his left cheek never quite leaves his face.

All the things you’ve dreamt of seeing so up close, never knowing it could have been a reality.

He lets go of your wrist, smiling softly with a shake of his head, “Can’t believe you’re gonna fall asleep on me.”

“Am not,” you nearly say under your breath, sighing in content.

“Am too,” he mocks, a certain docility to all his teasing before he sighs as well, “It’s okay. You can. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

You hum, eyes fluttering shut as you hear some rustling, “Promise, cowboy?”

“Absolutely, kitty. You said something about tomorrow, remember?”

You both laugh in sync as your couch suddenly becomes the most comfortable place in the world.

Just before losing consciousness, right as you feel Eddie’s breathing even out along with your own, you decide to open your eyes one last time to catch sight of the cowboy hat perched carefully on your coffee table.

Tomorrow. You hope for a thousand tomorrows as you decide that that hat is definitely yours now.

#joequinnficlibrary #eddie munson

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thejoequinnlibrary · 6 days ago

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(Click on each header to see a full list of works)

Hellcheer

Joseph Quinn's other characters

If you have any prompts, ideas, or plot bunnies, please feel free to throw them my way, though I can't promise that I will get to them all. Drop me a message if you want to be added to the tag list, or if you just want to chat, I'd love that too!

(Oh and, I only post fics once I finish writing them, so you don't have to worry about abandoned/incomplete works.)

#joe quinn fic writer masterlist #eddie munson #tom grant #arthur havisham #billy knight #ralph penbury #leonard bast #paul petrovich #michael hoard #emperor geta

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thejoequinnlibrary · 6 days ago

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the emperor’s love - emperor geta

Emperor Geta x Empress! female! reader

Main Masterlist

Emperor Geta Masterlist

Summary:

Being pregnant with his heir has made Geta more in love with you than he ever could have imagined. He shows you just how much he loves you.

Part 1

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, fingering, creampie, pregnancy

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N:

I wasn’t sure if I was going to write for Geta again, but he is actually living in my brain rent free. Another one inspired by my character letters by @miss-bushido, check out her writing and Etsy shop! I did research for this one, but I apologize in advance for historical inaccuracies! This is a part 2 to an heir for an emperor!

—

“I think it’s going to be a boy,” Geta mused, hand roaming over the growing expanse of your stomach. “A strong boy. The future of Rome is in your belly, you know that, Carissima?”

“And what if it’s a girl?” you asked, a giggle on your lips bringing a smile to the Emperor’s own.

“Then she shall take after her mother and be the most beautiful in all of Rome,” he said, hand caressing the skin of your belly. “And I’ll have to give you another.”

“Geta!” You playfully scolded, hand swatting at his as he laughed. “Another so soon?”

“Of course, my love. I need an heir. And to see you, swollen with child again so soon…” he leaned forward, pressing kisses to your neck. “Would be a gift. The gods have truly blessed me.”

You hummed, melting into his touch. You were sprawled together on your huge bed, dressed in your bed clothes for the night. His body curled behind yours, hands roaming your body wherever he pleased. Up and over your breasts, pinching at your nipples before moving back to your stomach; then down between your legs, feeling for the wetness he knew would be waiting for him.

“My love…” he whispered seductively against your ear. “Is there something you want?”

You whined, pressing back against him. He knew what you wanted, and he wanted it too. You could feel him already hard against your backside as he dipped his fingers between your folds. He collected your slick on his fingers and brought them to his lips, sucking them clean, tasting your essence. “Divine,” he remarked. “Somehow, you taste even sweeter.”

He lifted your tunic over your body, baring you to the night and his eyes alone. His hands trailed over your soft skin, so beautiful and flawless in his eyes. Perfection sent to him from the gods themselves.

Geta undid his own robe, revealing his glorious body fully naked, cock hard and standing proud as he gazed down at you. “You are so beautiful, Carissima.” His tongue darted out to lick his lips as he drank in your beauty. “Will you sing for me tonight?”

You giggled, knowing he didn’t exactly mean a ballad. “Perhaps if I feel inspired, my Emperor…”

A wicked smile crossed his face as he leaned over you, kissing up your body until he reached your lips. “Oh, how beautiful a melody I could pull from those lips…let me show you.”

He gently moved you onto your side, careful of your stomach. Geta had treated you like you were made of glass since he discovered your pregnancy. He had been overjoyed, but if you thought he was overprotective before, he became a whole different beast with his beloved wife carrying his potential heir.

He consulted the augurs at the beginning of your pregnancy. Since then he has prayed daily to the goddesses of childbirth; Eileithyia, Hera, Juno. He has left them daily offerings at their temples and shrines to ensure the safe delivery of your child.

You always had an entourage with you with your servant staff, but now you had a guard of Praetorians following your every move, as well. Even servants to taste your food before you could eat. Speaking of your food, Geta suddenly insisted on you receiving the healthiest, finest foods in the Empire. He still allowed you your fig cakes, at least.

The only time you got any peace, any time alone, were these cherished nights in bed with your Emperor. When he dropped his cruel and ruthless persona and became your husband. He would take care of you, massage your belly with oils each night. It was your favorite part of the day.

Once you were comfortably laid on your side, Geta moved back behind you, his body spooning against yours. He brushed your hair back over your shoulder, placing kisses against the skin of your back. “Do you remember our wedding night?”

“How could I forget?” You smiled, the memory rushing back to you. It had been less than a year, but felt like a lifetime.

It had been a beautiful ceremony. Everything you could have dreamed of. Your father had been proud to marry his daughter to an Emperor. The augurs had been consulted by Geta himself to ensure propitious omens and favor from the gods. You wore your beautiful white tunica recta, a gorgeous veil atop your head. There had been a delicious cake, as he had heard of your sweet tooth beforehand.

Afterwards, Geta took you to the bridal lectus, where he took you apart piece by piece until you were nothing but writhing pleasure beneath him.

Geta hummed against your back. “Do you remember how I surprised you in your chambers before the ceremony?”

You blushed. Of course you did. It had been such a surprise to find Geta waiting for you in your chambers, you weren’t even supposed to see him before the ceremony. You had been scared at first, you still hardly knew one another and you had heard plenty of stories, but his plans for you had been more than pleasing.

“I simply had to have a taste of my bride to be,” he continued. “It was all I could think about once I saw you for the first time. It plagued me those three months of our betrothal leading up until our ceremony. It was all I could think of when I was alone. Even just touching your hand to place the ring on your finger…” You felt Geta shiver behind you. “Carissima, I was yours, body and soul.”

He reached down to grasp onto your thigh, lifting it up and over his own leg between yours. You felt his thick tip prodding at your entrance, and you sighed, already so responsive for him.

“You’ve been so sensitive since you have been carrying our child,” he remarked as his fingertips traced slowly over your clit, before dipping down to press inside of you. You gasped loudly - you could feel his smirk against your skin. “I absolutely love it.”

You moaned as he pumped his fingers into you a few more times, but you were so wet you really didn’t need any preparation. He removed his fingers, sucking them clean with a groan, before pressing his tip against your pussy once again.

He didn’t ask before he started sinking inside - the Emperor did not ask for permission. But he knew you would have given it over and over again had he asked. Your head fell back against him as he filled you from behind, holding your leg up high to allow him enough room to get as deeply inside as he liked to be.

He bottomed out quickly and began thrusting in and out of your perfect tight heat, groaning deeply against your neck. His fingertips dug into your thigh as he fucked you like you needed to be fucked. He knew your body better than anyone, even yourself.

“Carissima,” he moaned; a weakness in his voice he would never let anyone else witness. It was raspy, desperate for more of the perfect fit of your pussy. He called your name over and over again in your ear, the title never sounding more sinful than it did in that moment.

“You feel so good,” you whined, your hips bucking back to meet his thrusts, to have him fuck you harder. He didn’t like to take you roughly with you in your current state, not like he used to. You missed it desperately. “Please, my Emperor, take me harder.”

Geta groaned loudly at your words, his composure faltering as his sloppy thrusts stuttered. “My beloved,” he said, his raspy voice pained. “Do not say things such as that. You do not know how hard it is to keep my control.”

“Please,” you begged again, back arching as you felt your release beginning to build. “Please, Geta, please fuck me.”

His grip tightened on your thigh and he groaned again, like you were causing him physical pain. He thought to deny you once again, but his primal instincts took over and he began fucking into you fast and hard. The sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room, and you were certain between that and the moans you were both emitting, the entire palace could hear your lovemaking.

“Close,” you whined out, eyes falling closed as your orgasm built faster and faster. You could feel your pussy beginning to clench around his cock, and he felt it too, his hips stuttering again as he neared his own imminent release.

“Sing for me,” he encouraged you, laying your thigh on his leg so he could move his hand between your legs. You cried out loudly as he paid delicious attention to your aching clit, and your orgasm hit you, pussy spasming hard around your Emperor’s thick cock.

“That’s it, Carissima, let all of Rome hear how you sing for me!”

Geta gripped back onto your thigh, fucking into you fast and hard with no rhythm until he finally stilled pressed against you, shooting rope after rope of his seed deep inside you as he let out the most divine moans you’d ever heard.

He rode out both of your releases, shallow thrusts until all of his cum had been spent inside of you. He pulled out, laying on his back next to you as his chest heaved with his breaths. He opened an arm for you, and you laid against him.

These moments of bliss were your absolute favorite. These moments of quiet and peace and love between you and your husband. It was rare for an Emperor to find a true love like this. Rare for a woman to be so lucky in her marriage. You reminded yourself of your fortune often.

You reached up, playing with a lock of his ginger hair. He smiled down at you lovingly, the look on his face one of pure adoration. The truth of it was seen in his eyes, to his very soul.

“The child will be here soon,” Geta said, his hand once again splayed on your large belly. “I have arranged for celebratory games to be held for the next two weeks. I want all of Rome to join in our celebrating the forthcoming birth of our heir.”

You turned to him. “Geta, I’m not sure I should-“

“Shh, my love,” he hushed you. “You do not have to attend, anaticula. I know you do not care for them. And I would rather keep you both safe from harm.”

You smiled gently at your husband. Somehow, he continued to surprise you with how much he loved and cared for you, and now the child in your belly, too. You knew no matter if it was a boy or a girl, Geta would be the perfect father, would love this child fiercely. He would not let harm come to either of you.

“He needs a strong name,” he thought to himself. “Lucius. Septimius. But perhaps we should meet him first? See what kind of personality he will have?”

“We do not yet know if it will be a he,” you teased him, your hand resting on your belly next to his. You felt a small kick beneath your hand and quickly grabbed Geta’s, moving it to that exact spot. After a moment of waiting, a grin spread across the Emperor’s face, pure jubilation evident in his eyes.

“Boy or girl, they’re nice and strong,” he said, a note of pride in his voice. “I love you, Carissima.”

You smiled, eyes fluttering closed. “I love you, my beloved.”

Geta rubbed your belly gently, soothing your nausea and pains as you relaxed into him in your large, plush bed. As you began to drift off to sleep in the arms of your Emperor, you heard his quiet voice one last time in your ear.

“Nunc scio quid sit amor. Now I know what love is.”

#joequinnficlibrary #emperor geta

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thejoequinnlibrary · 6 days ago

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an heir for an emperor - emperor geta

Emperor Geta x Empress! female! reader

Masterlist

Emperor Geta Masterlist

Summary:

The Emperor wants an heir.

part 2 out now!

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), major breeding kink, porn no plot

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N:

This is inspired by a character letter I got that I can’t stop thinking about. If this is historically incorrect I’m so sorry, I’m just horny as hell for this man.

—

It had been three blissful months of marriage with Geta.

The ruthless emperor was something different when he was alone with you. A side of him no one else was privileged to see. He was soft, affectionate, eyes only for you.

He knew you didn’t care for the bloodshed of the games, but he loved having you accompany him all the same. He would distract you when things got to be too much, holding your hand and even turning his attention away from the spectacle to comfort you if you needed it.

He couldn’t show his soft side in public often, but his love and adoration for you was obvious.

You enjoyed the finer things in life. You loved to attend the theatre, the plays and displays of beautiful music. Music was your favorite thing, and you loved to sing. Your singing voice was of the angels, as Geta would say, and oh how he loved to make you sing.

One thing both you and Geta were looking forward to was producing an heir. You had always wanted a family. You had felt the call of motherhood since you were a child, dreaming of the day you would marry and bear children. You hadn’t even fathomed of being an Empress, however.

You came from a rich family, and always knew you would marry highly, but Geta had been unexpected. The second he laid eyes on you, he knew you were to be his. You had no choice in the matter, but you would have chosen him a million times over anyway.

He had planned a romantic weekend getaway for the two of you alone, in one of his villas outside of the city. Leaving Rome in the hands of his brother and the Senate wasn’t ideal, but he wanted the chance to spend time with his beloved without interruption.

“You look divine, Carissima,” Geta remarked in adoration, his hands roaming the fabric of your tunic, gaze hungry. He pulled the fabric higher, lifting it up and over your body. “You will provide me with the most perfect heir.”

Naked before him, your nipples peaked among the cool air on your body, Geta dipping his head to take one of your nipples in his mouth. He sucked on it, tongue running over the sensitive bud. You moaned, hand resting on the back of his head. He moved to the other, giving it equal attention.

He lay you gently down on the bed, before removing his own clothing and moving over top of you. His crown still sat atop his ginger locks, and he looked as regal as ever, bared to you and cock achingly hard, all for you.

“I never imagined I would have such a luminous beauty as my wife,” he hummed, lips trailing along the skin of your neck. “Never could I have imagined a beauty like yours existed. You are sent from the gods themselves.”

“As are you, my beloved,” you said, eyes falling closed at the feeling of your husband’s lips upon your body. “You are more than I ever could have hoped for.”

Geta smiled tenderly, before pressing his lips to yours. You kissed him back eagerly, hands sliding around his shoulders. His skin was warm beneath your palms, your innocent touch making him impossibly harder against your thigh. His tongue slid across your bottom lip, and you let him inside, tongues dancing together.

He rested his weight on one arm while the other roamed the soft skin of your side, making you shiver beneath his touch. “Magnificent,” he remarked purely to himself. “Beautiful.”

He pulled away from you, sitting on his knees as he spread your legs for his view. You took in the visage of your Emperor before you, looking regal as ever as he gazed down at your core like it was his next meal.

“Just a taste, Carissima, before I fill you,” he said, moving down between your legs. You gasped as you felt his tongue against your pussy, licking up to your clit, where he sucked gently, causing your back to arch off the bed.

“Geta-!”

He hummed in appreciation, a smirk felt against you as he continued to devour you, lapping up all your slick like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. You moaned loudly - no one would be able to hear you here, you were in Geta’s private villa far from the bustle of the city. It was the most uninhibited you had felt as you let the proof of how good your Emperor made you feel fill the air.

“That’s it, my love, sing for me,” Geta praised you, before dipping his tongue into your hole, driving you mad. You grabbed onto his hair as you felt your orgasm approaching, needing to hold onto something. Geta chuckled lowly as he grabbed onto your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide for him.

“I’m…I’m…”

“I know, darling, let go for me,” He said, moving back up to pay special attention to your clit once more. The harsh suck he left on the sensitive bud sent you over the edge, and you were cumming hard, grinding against his face as he moaned and eagerly licked up all you gave him.

When he rose from between your legs, his mouth and chin glistened with your wetness. He looked absolutely sinful. He wrapped his hand around his cock, rings glittering on his fingers. He pumped himself a few times as he looked down at your already-wrecked body.

“I’m going to fill you with my seed so deeply, my love. Over and over again until it takes, until I get to see your belly round and full with my heir.”

You wanted that more than anything, the idea making your heart race in your chest. You felt his tip prodding at your entrance, and he leaned over your body again as he pushed inside.

It had only been three months, so you were still getting used to the intrusion of him when you’d lay together like this. You squeezed your eyes shut, fingers digging into the strong muscle of his biceps.

“You can take it, my love. So good for me - gods, so tight and hot.” He began a slow pace, mindful of letting you adjust to the size of him. He groaned beautifully as he began thrusting into you, and you were struck with how lucky you were to see your Emperor like this, so open and vulnerable, face contorted in pleasure because of you.

“Are you ready for me to move faster?” he asked, voice strained from holding back his true desire. The Emperor pleaded with no one, but his eyes told a different story.

“Yes, please,” you breathed, now that the pain has faded you wanted, needed more. “Please, Geta, need you to fill me.”

Geta groaned loudly, hips stuttering against you as he picked up his pace. He was truly fucking you now, left hand gripping your hip to hold you where he wanted you as he pounded into you. “I will do just that, Carissima, fill you so deeply with my heir. I wish to see you, glowing and beautiful with child. I will hold games in your honor.”

He pressed his lips to yours once again, kissing you deeply, showing you just how much he loved you with his body. Between the feeling of his glorious cock pressing deeply inside of you, pressing against that perfect spot he reached every time.

“You are magnificent,” he moaned, regal head thrown back on his shoulders, muscles clenching as he fought off his release. “Divine. Miraculous. All mine.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head as you writhed beneath his movements, and he moved his free hand to caress the side of your face. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, my Emperor,” you said, returning all the affection in his gaze.

“Need to feel you cum for me, my love,” he said, hips picking up speed as his own release approached rapidly. He moved to grip your thigh around his waist, moving into you at a new angle that had you seeing stars.

You cried out as your second orgasm hit, and Geta smiled cockily, knowing he was the only one who could bring you such pleasure, the only one privileged to see you like this, falling apart on his cock for him.

“Oh gods, Geta, yes-!”

“That’s it, my love, let me hear you,” Geta rasped out, his own release hitting him seconds later. “Take me, my beloved, take all of my seed! Gods yes, let me fill you, take it all,” he rambled on as he shot ropes of his hot cum deep inside you, pushing in as deep as possible to not waste a drop.

He stayed buried inside you as you both caught your breath. His strong chest was heaving with his heavy breaths, and he tenderly combed his fingers through your hair, looking at you with such love it made your heart stutter in your chest.

When he pulled out, he looked between your legs, gathering up his release that had spilled out of you with his fingers and pressing it back inside. “Cannot afford to waste a drop, Carissima,” he told you with a smile.

You giggled, totally blissed out from the pleasure he had just provided you. He lay his naked body on the bed next to you, resting his hand on your stomach.

“I truly cannot wait to see you carrying my heir,” he mused quietly, fingers rubbing circles into the skin of your abdomen, as if he were picturing it. “Our child.”

“Neither can I,” you told him, a blissful smile on your face.

“I would do this over and over again, as many times as it takes.”

You laughed, snuggling against the side of your Emperor. “I know you would.” You hummed, fingers trailing over the taut skin of his muscular chest. “I love you.”

“And I you, my beloved.”

#joequinnficlibrary #emperor geta

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thejoequinnlibrary · 6 days ago

Text

Make Me Feel

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x rockstar!gareth emerson x fem! reader

word count: 7.1k words

description: you fly out to reunite with your rockstar boyfriend eddie munson. after a long day, you decide to return to his bed on the tour bus, but it seems like it is already occupied by his bandmate, gareth.

warnings: 18+ content, MDNI, no use of y/n, rockstar au, all participates are 18+, mentions of alcohol and substances, reader is established as eddie's girlfriend, gareth has crush on reader, mentions of reader having hair but no other characteristics described, groupies, threesome activities, voyeurism, dry humping, tons of dirty talk, spanking, oral (v receiving), v and anal fingering, rough unprotected sex, face grabbing, multiple orgasms, light choking, possessive eddie, cum eating/feeding.

authors note: hey... hey... how y'all doing? lmfao, happy valentine's day! i have been hunkered down for days trying to finish this insane idea and let me tell you... it was horny times. i loved writing for eddie already, and i decided after reading @the-unforgivenn's masterpieces with gareth, that I too would like to add that man to the mix. wanna thank my babies @amanitacowboy, @pedgito, and @chaotic-mystery for supporting this insanity as well. enjoy!

how to help palestine ~ dividers by @cafekitsune

It had been three months.

Three months since you saw your boyfriend, Eddie.

Tour had taken up his entire life since his band’s new album “Asylum” came out in January, and you fucking missed him so much. He had told you countless times to come out and visit him, but your job was holding you hostage with a bunch of stupid deadlines. You were simply just waiting for him to come home to your shared condo in LA.

But after one too many missed assignments, your job decided it was best to let you go because your head was somewhere else. And it was. It was constantly occupied on what your boyfriend could be getting up to while on the road with his bandmates.

You called Eddie that night, twisting the home phone’s cord around your finger as you spoke about how your boss called you into his office and told you that you were dismissed. Eddie was pissed, telling you that he would give your boss a piece of his mind. You told him there was no need, you did not feel like fighting for a job that useless.

“Well, we got four more shows left. Tomorrow is in Austin, Texas. I will be home in like a week, baby. I’m so fuckin’ excited to see you.”

You could not stand another week. You needed to feel him. Touch him.

When you got off the phone, you booked the next flight to Austin. Tomorrow morning at 7AM. That would do. Once you got your official booking, you called Gareth. When he picks up the phone, you can tell from his slurred speech that he’s one, drunk, and two, very confused.

“What’s up darlin’?” His voice rasps through the speaker.

“Hey, I’m surprising Eddie tomorrow and coming to the Austin show. You think you could make sure your management knows and I can get backstage?”

You can hear Gareth’s shuffling, isolating himself somewhere more private, “You are coming to Austin?”

“Yes. I’m surprising Eddie. Make sure will call has passes for me, please.”

His voice sobers, “Of course. I’m… We are excited to see you.”

Gareth was probably your favorite member of Corroded Coffin, other than Eddie, of course. He was sickeningly sweet to you. You chalked it up to how close he and Eddie have been since childhood. He knew you meant the world to Eddie. Plus, he enjoyed your swift and funny banter.

Little do you know, Gareth harbors a small crush on you.

You were strictly off limits but he could not help but let his gaze fall on you longer than what was needed.

“See you tomorrow, Gare!”

You were on the verge of tears.

Your flight had been delayed all day. You were not going to make it to the show if the next flight out cancelled again. The kiosk worker said it was because it was too windy for takeoff and most flights had been canceled for the rest of the day. You were at the mercy of the fucking wind.

But by the grace of whatever god, you were boarding a flight at 1PM, which meant you would miss the show and arrive by 8PM. But you still had the chance to catch them after the show, you told yourself.

When you land, you hail the first taxi you see and tell them to race to the arena where your boyfriend is performing. You only brought a backpack, stuffed full of some random assortment of clothing and toiletries. You throw it in the backseat, tapping on the buckles as your anxiety spikes.

Traffic was a nightmare, the city bustling with people attending the show and or, getting fucked up on a Friday night. When the cab screeches to a halt at the very front of the arena, you throw them two $20 bills and sling your backpack over your shoulder. Scalpers approached you immediately, asking if you wanted a shot at catching the band’s last song, but you practically push them to get to the will-call stand. You get the lady’s attention by your insane expression, hurriedly telling her your name and why you are there.

She smiles widely, her wrinkles reflecting her surprise. “We thought you weren’t gonna come! Let me get security to escort you back.”

As soon as you cross into the area, you hear Eddie’s voice over the speakers, wishing everyone a good night. Before you know it, you are guided down some random corridors under the arena. The halls are narrow and you catch yourself knocking your jam-packed bag into the brick walls. It’s so loud, different sounds bouncing off the not-sound-proof walls.

You finally are let backstage which has tons of people bustling around taking large metal boxes off the stage and towards other hallways. Everything was so scrambled and confusing, so it’s reassuring the moment you lock eyes with Gareth. He’s sweaty, his cheeks red and his shirt completely off, displaying some new artwork you haven’t seen before.

“There you are!” He cheers, racing over to you. His glistening skin does not shy you away from giving him an embrace. You giggle as he shakes you excitedly.

“I’m sorry, my flights got all fucked up. But I’m here!” You release him, pulling away to get a good look at him, “Where’s my boy?”

His smile widens even more, taking your hand as he guides you around a crowd of crew and groupies. Walking hand in hand with Gareth gets you some odd glances from pretty girls, which gives you a confidence boost.

When you get to the door marked “Eddie Munson”, your heart is beating straight out of your chest. You had been so nervous this whole time, that you had really no time to get excited. You look at Gareth, releasing his hand and knocking furiously on the door. You take a deep breath when you hear footsteps bounding towards the door.

“What the f-,” His voice is deep and somewhat annoyed, but the moment his eyes land on you, it’s like his entire body relaxes. His big brown doe eyes are enough to take your breath away. His hair is wet and tangly across his forehead. He looks so broad. And naked?

“Surprise!”

It’s the first thing that you can think to say. You can’t say anything else because Eddie’s arms fly around you, pulling you into a big bear hug. His body is so warm, setting you alight almost immediately. “Baby, what are you doing here?!”

You pull away, your hands going up to touch his face. You missed cradling his jaw in your hands when you looked at him or kissed him. “I am surprising you! Surprise!”

“Yeah, you said that!” He presses a kiss into your palm, “I’m so happy to see you, sweetheart.”

You look back at Gareth, whose smile is so wide it warms your entire body. He waves a simple goodbye to you, letting Eddie drag you into his dressing room.

Eddie is quick to get you in his lap. He knew the moment he got his hands on you, he would not want to let go of you. You are propped up on his thighs, telling him about the dramatic day you had while he peppered kisses all around your neck.

“Are you even listening to me, baby?” You pester, poking at his still-nude chest. He had managed to put on some sweats before he pulled you onto his lap.

He chuckles, pulling away to sit back on the leather couch. “Of course, I am, sweetheart. Just missed you way too much.”

The sparkle in his eye sends a smile spreading across your face. The days seemed so long without him and while you supported his career and loved that he followed his dreams, you miss the simple pleasures in life with him. Waking up in the same bed. Going grocery shopping together. Doing dishes and singing along to your favorite songs. Ever since Corroded Coffin took off, you have been grieving that life.

Seeing him happy was all that mattered, though. His hard work allowed you two a comfortable life and you knew that’s all Eddie ever wanted to give you.

You slide out of his lap when there’s a knock on the door. The tour manager comes in, his eyes never even meeting your eyes as he directs Eddie to hurry up and get packed up. He’s short in stature, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. You assume he does not look your way due to the fact that most rockstars keep random girls around all the time and there cannot be conflicts of interest with his talent. Before he can shut the door, Eddie stops him.

“Roger, this is my girlfriend. She’s gonna be tagging along tonight,” Eddie states simply, standing up to almost present you to the man. You nod timidly as the guy finally glances at you.

“Nice to meet you, kid. Keep this boy in check, he’s been a pain in my ass all week. He and Gareth are pests.”

And then he shuts the door, not saying another word. You raise your eyebrows at Eddie, unsure how to react to such a claim. Eddie purses his lips, the sides of his mouth pointing up slightly.

You crook your head, “What have you been putting that poor man through?”

“Nothin’. Gareth has been more of a shithead than me. Won’t stop kidnapping women and bringing them over state lines.”

You lock onto his arm, your eyebrows dropping in confusion. What did he mean by that?

“And you?”

“Last week of tour is prank central. I pelted him with water balloons when he was leaving a porta potty yesterday.”

Him being the more innocent of the two throws you for a loop. Gareth being the real problem is shocking. While a hellion like Eddie, he was definitely the more tame one. Eddie was always dragging him into the pits of chaos, not the other way around.

You loosen your grip as Eddie starts to head over to his vanity to collect all his belongings into a frayed duffle bag. “Gareth is kidnapping women?”

“Not on purpose. He brings them on the bus to fuck and then when he is supposed to take them back to security, he just doesn’t. A girl made it to Chicago from Louisville and Roger had to book her a flight home.”

You shake your head, your hand resting on your forehead. You could not imagine having that poor man’s job. You would murder all of the band before the first show could even go on.

“He’s right, you two are pests.”

You and Eddie walk hand in hand down the long corridor that opens up to the back lot of the arena. On the way out, Eddie stops at craft services to load up his duffle with random snacks he says “They don’t have them on the bus”, which you know is a big fat lie. You could bet money their snack cabinet is filled to the brim with snacks and restocked the moment they start to run low.

Jeff walks by you two, his face twisting in surprise when he recognizes you. You stand in the hall, catching up with him. You can tell he’s high off something because his eyes are half shut when he talks. Like a magic trick, a flask appears in his hand and he raises it to you and Eddie.

“See you lovebirds on the bus!”

Eddie wraps his arm around your waist, a sly giggle releasing from his throat, “Mans off his ass every night. He probably won’t even make it to his bunk.”

Your fingers trace his arm, wrapping your finger through one of his bracelets, “Do you have a bunk?”

“Oh no, princess, I have the queen-sized bed in the very back of the bus. We will be very comfy tonight.”

You finally climb the steps onto the bus. It’s weirdly freezing as you make it to the very top, taking in the space. It’s a mess to put it lightly. Jeff is already making himself at home on the scratchy-looking couch. Grant is propped up next to a very pretty girl, his arm slung around her possesively. It is weird to see the boys living the life of rock stars. You knew your boyfriend entertained some parts of the life, mainly the alcohol and drugs, but with the way he’s wrapped around your finger, you seriously doubt any infidelity. You also knew if he did try something like that, Gareth or one of the other boys would come running to you to rat him out.

Eddie would never, though. You were his everything.

You give Grant a gentle wave, moving your way through the back of the bus. Before you and Eddie make your way to the door at the very end of the hall, Grant speaks up.

“Gareth’s in there!”

Eddie’s hand drops from your back as he shimmies past you in the tight corridor. He presses his ear up to the door, but you do not even need to do that to hear what is happening in the room. On Eddie’s bed.

Eddie cracks the door a bit, getting an eyeful of Gareth completely going to town on a girl, who he surely does not recognize.

Eddie rolls his big brown eyes, annoyed and ready to break down the door. You stop him, though. An idea sprouts in your head. Something a bit unhinged.

“It’s prank week, Eds. Why don’t we… prank him?”

Eddie’s face relaxes, his jaw going slack. “Prank him? How?”

You ponder your options for a moment. You could sneak in there and scare him? You could have Eddie go up behind him and slap his ass or something?

You smile when the idea hits you.

“Why don’t we stumble in there acting like we are trying to get it on and just fall onto the bed next to them? That’ll rattle him.”

Eddie’s pride shines through his expression. “You’re a dream, baby. So smart and so pretty. You know that?”

He drops the bag onto the floor, as your heart pounds at the fact that he agreed so quickly to your plan.

Eddie grabs you roughly, his eager kiss turning into something more the moment he slides the wooden door open. You hear a sharp gasp the moment you two step into the small confines, but you know not to pull away from Eddie to see who it came from. His hands are expanding under the t-shirt that’s loosely hanging off your body, fondling the flesh of your hips and back. You are walking forward, while he is dragging you with him, his heels hitting the end of the bed before falling onto the bed with a bounce.

The slapping of skin has completely halted by the time Eddie’s lips leave yours and is instead replaced with the sounds of sheets rustling.

“What the fuck!” Gareth’s voice pierces through the room, ringing in your ears. Eddie’s eyes do not leave your face as you both smile wickedly at the plan working out exactly the way you wanted.

You do not look at Gareth, instead, you face the pretty little thing he’s been fucking. Her widened eyes reflected her absolute horror at you and Eddie’s entrance.

She reflected a lot of your physical attributes, but she was just smaller. She was probably a bit older than you as well, her makeup caking around her forehead where her face must’ve been twisted in pleasure. After taking her in, you finally glance over at Gareth.

Big mistake.

He’s glistening with sweat, his curls a mop of mess on his head. He only covers his dick with his hands, leaving the rest of his body on display. You had just seen him shirtless, but there was something more to look at. The expanse of his hipbones and long legs that are littered with random tattoos. He was more covered than Eddie was, which for some reason sends your mind reeling.

You had to keep going along with the bit. “I’m sorry, Eddie said this was his bed.”

Eddie perks up, finally peeling his eyes away from your lingering gaze on Gareth. “It is.”

Your eyes falter back to the girl lying naked under the covers next to Eddie.

“What’s your name?” You probe, your fingers dancing across Eddie’s shoulders. You wanted to be touching him, making sure you maintained your coolness. The girl’s expression shifts over to Gareth, who just shrugs at her.

“Emily,” She responds, her voice small and hesitant. With the way she was moaning, you expected her to have a bit more conviction. Eddie’s hands rest on the back of your thighs, keeping you right between his spread legs. Gareth noticed it immediately, his Adam’s apple bobbing at the sight.

“Emily… I like that name,” You utter, the coldness of Eddie’s rings sending goosebumps down your legs. His every touch was distracting you.

“It’s a very pretty name,” Eddie adds, staring up at your face as he sits back a bit more on the bed. He does not dare look at the other girl, knowing that the only sight he wants to look at right now is you.

“Edd-”

“Gare, why did you stop?” You inquire, your eyes are unyielding as you let them settle back on his face. “Emily seemed to be enjoying herself.”

“You two walked in-”

“And?” Eddie presses, dragging you forward so you are fully mounted on his lap, your knees pressing into the mattress on each side of his hips.

You drag your tongue slowly across your top teeth, ticking it as you shoot Emily a glance. For some reason, this was not just a silly little prank to fuck with Gareth. You strangely wanted to watch Gareth at work. You and Eddie had talked about joining other people in the bedroom in the past, but you knew better than to add a random groupie to such affairs. So you would settle on just watching your long-time friend and your boyfriend’s bandmate fuck a stranger.

“Do you want him to continue, Emily?”

She looks nervous under your regard, which only sends you more on a power trip. You did not know this girl and you would probably never see her again.

Eddie’s hands find your ass, squeezing both cheeks and spreading them apart. It makes your hips rock against his crotch. You can audibly hear how wet you are and it makes Eddie chuckle, a rasp in the back of his throat. You place your hands on the nape of his neck, holding on to steady yourself before you start grinding harder on him involuntarily.

When her head jerks for ‘yes’, you smile and look back at Gareth.

“Give her what she wants, Gare.”

The air in your lungs is literally stolen from your body when Gareth drops his hands from his dick. You did not expect such a thing from him. Long, girthy, and so fucking pretty. The extra saliva in your mouth almost dribbles down your lips when you watch him rip the top sheet off of her body.

By the look on your face, Eddie realizes you are liking this a whole lot more than he is. He swats your ass, gaining your attention again. You grab his neck with your hands, your nails leaving small scratches across his throat. You arch your back, leaning forward and capturing Eddie’s plump pink lips. He is all teeth when you open your mouth to deepen the kiss, which makes you moan a bit.

All the tension you have built up in the last couple of months is now being released and it makes you aggressive. When his teeth graze your tongue, you push him onto his back as you adjust your hips to completely line up your clothed cunt against the tightness in his pants.

The whole time you two have been battling dominance, you realize Gareth has dragged Emily’s frame to the side of the bed, lining his cock up with her perfectly shaved cunt. When he sinks into her, the moan she lets out is pornographic. With one experimental thrust into her, he returns back to the steady pace he was at when you and Eddie just listened to him through the door.

You roll your body on Eddie’s lap, resting your hands on his chest. His body responds to your touch, lurching his hips upward to meet your circling hips. His hands grips onto your thighs, holding you down so you cannot stray away from the friction. You flick your head back to watching Gareth, his pace speeding up as he grunts about how tight Emily is.

“You better make her cum first, Gareth,” You mock, your voice dripping in lust. His eyes snap up to you, his brows furrowed in concentration. Eddie’s hands are burning into your hips, his focus solely on making you cum by simply dry-humping him.

Gareth flicks his curls away from his forehead, leaning over Emily’s smaller frame as he sharpens his angle and grinds his pelvic bone into her swollen clit. She’s writhing under him, completely taken by his performance.

“You want to watch her fall apart on my cock, honey?”

Gareth’s eyes are lasered in on you, your face twisted in pleasure as Eddie starts to move your hips for you. You are so enamored by the question that it steals your voice. Eddie sits up again, his arms wrapping around you, locking your arms behind your back. It’s like he’s putting you in a human straight jacket.

His mouth connects with your jaw as you dry hump him, his voice coming out strained. “Gareth asked you a question, princess.”

You feel your cunt clench around nothing and you are panting. You did not expect those words from Eddie, who was usually possessive and jealous when any guy even gave you a glance. Now he’s playing into Gareth’s game? How did you get here?

You nod, your chest rising and falling in Eddie’s face. You cannot look at Gareth as you say it, so you just squeeze your eyes shut. “Yes, please.”

Due to the close proximity, Gareth’s wing span is long enough to touch you. Instead of a gentle caress, he’s grabbing your face, his fingers pinching your cheeks together. Eddie says nothing, just smirking devilishly at his actions.

“Eyes open. Key word was watch.”

When you open your eyes, Gareth’s face is inches from yours. His steel blue eyes are practically black, his pupils are beyond dilated. You blink slowly, seeing Emily’s twisted expression while the man that’s fucking her is holding onto your jaw. With the way she’s groaning, you know she’s nearing her end, and so are you. Eddie’s one hand locks your wrists behind your back while the other makes its way groping your braless chest over the black fabric of your t-shirt.

Your hips still as the stimulation becomes too much and your cunt spasms even though it’s not filled. Emily matches your moment, her arms lurching upward to grab onto Gareth’s arms as she falls apart on his spearing cock. The moans coming from the room are enough to alarm on the bus, for sure. Her long drawn-out sobs are much louder than your whines, but it was no competition.

Gareth does not finish, just pulls out of her and continues to jerk his soaked dick. Eddie releases your hands, letting you settle against him as your body recovers from your orgasm.

“Gather your clothes, Emily. The security outside the bus will bring you back to the arena,” Gareth directs, backing up so the absolutely spent girl could come to her senses enough to get dressed. You look away as she stands up, focusing your eyes back on Eddie. He’s smiling still, the glint in his eye mischievous.

You felt bad for the girl. She just got to fuck a rockstar, probably one she admires, and now he’s escorting her off the tour bus without really finishing the job. As he guides her to the door, you half expect him to gather his own clothes off the floor.

But he does not do that. Instead, he’s bounding over to the bed, sitting down right next to Eddie.

Eddie’s hands rub up and down your thighs, before he clears his throat. “Did you need something, Gareth?”

You finally peel your eyes away from Eddie, looking over at Gareth’s narrowing expression. His lips are pursed in contemplation. Gareth’s cock is still covered in a condom. When he notices your eyes on him, he slowly drags it off his dick, discarding it on the floor. You feel a dribble of sweat drop down into your eyebrow, not realizing that your body is covered in a layer of glistening sheen.

“Your girl, Munson.”

Your stomach flips as you tug your lip between your teeth, trying your best to not smile. You do not know how Eddie was going to respond to such a revelation, but the thought of being able to get both of them in one night was enough to send your head spinning.

Eddie shrugs, nonchalantly. He starts tilting your face towards his with his pointer finger, “You want that, sweetheart?”

You let the tension in your face go, finally settling on a smirk as your eyes rested on Eddie’s lips.

“As long as I get your dick first, baby.”

Gareth chuckles dryly beside you, his hand grazing the arm you have wrapped around Eddie’s shoulders. “Eddie, you lucky bastard.”

Eddie tightens his grip around you, flipping you on your back. He presses your hips into the mattress, the tangled-up sheets surrounding your head as you look at the two men staring down at you. Their next meal.

Eddie’s quick to strip you of all your clothes and his own. When the realization hits that you are completely bare in front of both men, you start to grow a bit self-conscious. You raise your arms up to grab at your boobs, but Eddie is quick to swat them away.

“Don’t be nervous around us, princess. You’re fuckin’ perfect,” his voice drips with lust. The amount of times you got off on Eddie’s words alone should be studied. Gareth settles beside you, stroking himself as Eddie’s hands trace your legs and thighs. He settles on his knees, parting your knees. “Isn’t she perfect, Gareth?”

Gareth hums, “Fuckin’ flawless, Eddie.”

Your focus tapers in on Eddie’s fingers, dragging towards your wet slit. He still has his rings on, the silver catching the dim overhead light. You groan when his touch graces your silky center, his fingers gathering your slick. When his pointer and middle digits sink into your cunt, your hips raise off the bed.

Your head lulls to the side, your eyes feasting on Gareth’s length right near your head. He’s looking down at Eddie working magic on your core, pumping his cock with his large hands.

You did not realize how attractive you found Gareth until he was this close to you, naked and fiending for you.

When his eyes snap over to yours, he looks pleased.

“You just can’t keep your eyes off my cock, huh, honey?” His voice brings Eddie’s eyes to the state of your gaze. He pumps his fingers into you faster, latching his lips around your swollen bud. That brings your attention back to his head between your thighs.

“Oh my god, Eddie,” You moan, your hand reaching up to grab at his long curls. He shakes his head, his tongue running between your pussy lips like a madman. Eddie always had you cumming on his tongue, and this moment would be no exception. Your core tightens as you feel that familiar build-up in the pit of your stomach.

You cannot look away at his nose and how it probes the top of your pussy as he drags his mouth up and down your slit. When his lips envelop your clit, it’s game over. He scissors his fingers in you as you tumble over the edge.

“Yes, fuck, yes baby,” You cry, your other hand mindlessly gripping onto the closest thing. It was Gareth’s thigh. You dig your nails into the flesh as you grind your cunt on Eddie’s mouth.

Your mind is blank as Eddie lifts himself up, his mouth glossy with saliva and your spend. Your hand is still locked on Gareth’s leg, observing how Eddie slots himself between your lower half. Eddie’s cock is standing at full attention as he pumps himself with his wet fingers. You smile at Gareth, completely drunk off of the climax Eddie just gave you.

“Two orgasms, sweetheart. You think you can handle any more?” Eddie questions, pushing his cock between your folds. You are so sensitive, you are unsure if you can handle it, but your lips deceive you.

“Yes, please,” You say to Eddie, eyes still glued to Gareth.

Gareth decides it’s time to adjust his position, sliding off the edge of the bed and leaning over it to put all his focus on you. He glances up at Eddie, almost to ask permission for something. Eddie just nods, like they spoke telepathically.

Gareth’s hand comes up to your cheek, tenderly dragging down your cheekbone.

“You’re so polite, honey,” He murmurs, his eyes sparkling down at you, “I can’t wait to watch Eddie ruin you with his dick.”

Eddie tilts his shaft down, pushing his cock inside you. You breathe out, trying to take him without clenching immediately. But your reflexes squeeze him so much that he matches your action, gritting his teeth and letting out a sigh.

“Relax, baby. You’re squeezing the fuck outta me,” Eddie groans, taking his time fully sheathing himself inside you. Your senses are in overdrive as you watch Gareth’s mouth slightly open, his fingers touching your lips softly. He’s teasing you, you can tell by how his demeanor has shifted from the way he’s been talking to you.

“Her pussy is probably tight because it hasn’t had a good fuckin’ since you left, Eds. Give her a break,” Gareth dotes, his thumb dropping to your chin. Your breathing hitches when Eddie widens your legs more and snaps back into you. “That right, sweet cheeks?”

Eddie chuckles darkly as you whine when his pace picks up, not waiting for you to adjust to him again. “My girl doesn’t need a break. She just wants to soak my cock, don’t cha, princess?”

You just nod, the air your lungs completely pushed out of your body the moment Eddie lifts your hips up with his sticky hands. The new position hits you perfectly, his cock driving into you at a speed it’s never been at before.

Gareth’s hand drags down to your throat, wrapping around it slightly in a teasing squeeze. He is gauging Eddie’s reactions and that one seems to rub him the wrong way.

“Watch it, Emerson,” he warns, tightening his hands on your hips, “Play with her titties. She likes that.”

Gareth’s hand leaves your neck. You silently curse Eddie’s guidance, wanting nothing more but for him to choke you while Eddie spearheads into you. But the moment his palm reaches your tit, you whine at the contact.

“She does like that, doesn’t she?” Gareth lilts, his fingers going to pinch at your perked nipples. You wiggle in Eddie’s grip, trying to get away from the overstimulation both boys are bringing you. Eddie grabs the back of your thighs, hinging your legs, and drives his cock into your pussy while compressing you into the bed. Even Gareth gasps at the aggression, loving the way you cry out for Eddie.

In an act of pure insanity, Gareth leans down, capturing your nipple in his mouth. Eddie’s reaction brings a sound out of your throat that you have never heard before. His hand practically manhandles Gareth’s curls, trying to pry him away from your chest. It’s met with resistance for a moment before Gareth’s swollen lips pop off your nipple.

You are not sure how the action does it, but you are seizing around Eddie’s cock. No names come out of your mouth, you are unsure which one to scream anyway. You just chant, “Oh god, oh god”, over and over again.

The constriction on Eddie’s cock pushes him over the edge. He releases Gareth, practically tossing him aside as he locks his hands on your waist to fuck his seed into you. Even with your bones feeling like jello, you sit up on your elbows to get an up-close view of Eddie’s furrowed brows and distorted expression.

You grab onto the nape of his neck, the sweat pooling at the base of his curls. You pull him into a passionate kiss, your tongue exploring the inside of his mouth. He tastes like your essence and the whiskey he had been sipping on earlier.

You pull away, nails raking down his neck and chest. You tilt your nose up, getting ready to probe him with a mind-numbing question.

“Now why did you do that to Gareth, baby? You told him that I liked when someone plays with my titties.”

Eddie’s jaw drops before a small smile creeps across his lips. You shoot Gareth a look, his face completely dazed by what just happened.

Eddie’s breath fans your face before drawing back a bit. His cock slowly drags out of your leaking core as he stands up before you. “I told him to play, not suck.”

You tick your tongue, shaking your head at his response. “No making up random rules in the middle of sex, baby.”

Eddie looks smug as he grabs Gareth up from his spot. The odd intimacy of him touching Gareth’s hips as he positions him in front of you is very hot to you. Eddie stands a bit taller than Gareth, so when he leans down to whisper in his ear, you cannot help the way your stomach flutters.

“Fine. Gare, just do what the girl tells you. But,” Eddie’s hands leave his waist, nudging him a bit closer to your knees, “If you cum in her, I will rip your dick off your body. Understand?”

After he says it, he slaps Gareth’s ass before giving you the cheesiest smile ever. His body sinks into the bed next to you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. When he presses a kiss into your shoulder blade, you finally roll your eyes.

“You heard his terms,” You give a pointed look at Gareth as he slowly drags his pointer finger across your knee, “Do you understand?”

“Crystal clear, honey.” He quips, shooting you a smug smile. “Do you mind if I take you from the back? Or are there stipulations with that?”

You shake your head, pushing up on your ass, flipping over eagerly. Eddie watches you with curiosity, completely taken by the fact that you are this excited to get fucked by his friend.

Gareth’s hands lock on your hips, dragging you to the edge of the bed. He pumps his dick, watching your pulsating pussy dripping with a mixture of Eddie’s cum and your own. He smiles sickly, dragging the tip of his dick through your messy folds.

“Tell me you want it.” Gareth rasps, tilting his head a bit to meet your gaze.

You giggle, not taking him too seriously. “I want it.”

He shakes his head, glancing over at Eddie. He is propped up, his completely nude body looking like a graffitied sculpture from the Louvre or something. Eddie looks between you two, tilting on his side so he can watch you get your fix from Gareth.

“Is she always such a tease, Eddie?” Gareth inquires, his gaze snapping back to the view of you ass up for him.

Eddie snickers, “Gotta put her in her place, Emerson.”

You angle your head to face Eddie head-on, completely baffled by his response. Gareth’s titillating motions around your pussy are already putting you on edge, and now Eddie is only encouraging him to taunt you even further.

“I’ll leave that to you. I’ll just fuck her like the slut she is.”

He snaps into you in one fluid motion, his cock curving inside you in a way that Eddie’s dick does not. You do not expect him to shift so quickly inside you, so you let out a shift yelp. His words still ring in your ear as you hear both of them laugh at your reaction. You press downwards, pushing your ass up further, laying the side of your face into the sheets.

You decide it is better to give it back to him. While he drives into you, you speak up.

“Yes, Gareth, treat me like the dirty little slut I am. Fuck me like you fuck those groupies.”

“Yeah?” He pistons his hips faster. The way his hands fit on your waist is so different than how Eddie’s settle. His hands are rougher and his fingers are not as long. Must be the callouses built up from all the drumming he does. You feel his naked chest make contact with your back. His voice comes out as a whisper, “I fuck all those girls wrapped up. I get you raw. Fuckin’ slut.”

The idea you had earlier about how that girl resembled yourself springs into your brain.

“You like fucking girls who look like me, Gare? Hm?”

Gareth’s thrust slowed for a moment, shocked that you would say such a thing. You were right, but how were you so observant?

“Fuck, you gettin’ off on my little crush on you? You think it’s cute?”

You hum your response, hands gripping the sheets as he rams into you even harder now. You were surely getting off on more than that.

Eddie knew Gareth had a crush on you. He knew that he was fucking whatever girl had your hair or your eyes. Hearing Gareth confess such a thing as he’s balls deep in you sends red flags flying in his mind. He knew he could not stop this right now, loving the way you looked all blissed out on his friend’s dick anyway. But this would not be happening again.

Eddie's hands roam all over your skin as his bandmate fucks you, massaging your back. His fingers meander over to your lower back before his hand is groping your ass cheek. His body moves away from your constricted view. He takes your other ass cheek in his hand, spreading them for his and Gareth’s viewing pleasure.

“How does she feel, Gare? Everything you dreamed about?” Eddie quizzes as he swats your ass a couple of times, trying to rid his mind of the racing thoughts.

Gareth audibly moans, “So fuckin’ tight, dude.”

Gareth’s thrusts only get more sloppy as Eddie plays with your ass. When his middle finger slips down your ass crack, feeling out for your asshole, you put your face in the blankets and screech. Your throat is becoming hoarse at all the strangled moans you have let out in the last hour. Over the wet slapping due to Gareth fucking you so good, you hear the squelching of Eddie pooling a drop of spit between your cheeks.

“She will be gushing on you in no time if you just,” Eddie sinks his finger into your other hole, the excessive stimulation maddening. “Add a finger.”

This is why you are madly in love with the man. He knows you better than anyone.

Because he’s right. As soon as he presses his index finger into your asshole, your hips jut forward. Instead of retreating, Eddie and Gareth both clutch onto your waist and fuck you through the white-hot rapture ripping through your body. Your cunt is gushing around Gareth’s cock, the sounds absolutely obscene.

“Oh fuck, Gareth, oh my god yes! Cum, please cum.”

The way your pussy clamps down on Gareth causes him to hit that same wall, too. After one particularly sharp thrust, he is fumbling out of you, jerking his dick off right near Eddie’s intrusive fingers.

His cum spurts out all over your ass crack and Eddie’s hand. Instead of straying away from it, Eddie chuckles at Gareth’s spend coating everything in sight.

You have never felt so drained in your life the moment the orgasm dampens. Eddie and Gareth share snickers when your body essentially drops down onto the bed.

For you, the interaction is done. But Gareth has something devious planned. He exhales, tilting over and dragging his tongue across your cum-covered ass and back. The warmth of his mouth sends goosebumps rising all along your skin. Eddie gawks at his exploit, his eyes dropping to his cum covered hand. He glances over at Gareth who is so focused on cleaning his remnants on you that he’s not focused on what Eddie is about to do.

With his clean hand, Eddie grips your hair and yanks you up by your scalp. You are whiplashed when he places his coated hand in front of your face.

“A gift from Gareth,” He displays, his smile a bit unhinged. You ogle him before accepting his offer, extending your own tongue and dragging it all around his knuckles and fingers. He shakes his head, at your vulgar conduct. “That’s my girl. Always so compliant.”

By the time you are getting the last bit off Eddie’s hand, Gareth is done cleaning you up. He sees what Eddie is making you do and he cannot help the quiver that escapes him.

When your mouth is laced with your own spit and Gareth’s cum, Eddie drops your head delicately. You roll onto your side, your upper body half in Eddie’s lap, half on the bed.

“I need a shower,” You gripe, trying to regain full feeling in your body. You feel a head high, almost as if you just smoked a full joint by yourself or something.

Eddie assists you in getting up, wrapping you in a sheet, “Let’s get you a shower then, baby.”

Gareth watches him help you as he gathers up his clothing off the floor. The room is so small and the bathroom is right outside the sliding door, so you did not have long to walk. Still, your legs felt like they may give out at any time, so Eddie’s trained hands on you were very helpful.

Eddie helps you into the shower, unraveling you from the blanket and holding your hand as you step into the stand-up surround. You give him a gentle smile, nodding that you would be okay with the rest of the chore.

Eddie uses the blanket for himself, wrapping up just in case one of the other guys sees him in the narrow hallway. As he walks out, Gareth is leaving his room, a snicker leaving his lips.

Eddie raises his fist, gesturing that a bump was required.

Gareth returns the bump, “Thanks for letting me join, dude.”

Eddie shakes his head, a half smile ticking upward, “No problem… It’s never happening again.”

“What if she-”

“Never. Happening. Again,” Eddie states firmly, still grinning, “Enjoy your bunk, Emerson.”

np tags (just some folks that supported my last eddie fics or asked to be tagged, tehe): @hockeyhughes @wdsara48 @emxxblog @cxrsed-angel @canyonmooncreations @mediocredreams

#joequinnficlibrary #eddie munson

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