thejoequinnlibrary

[thejoequinnlibrary]

You Really Got Me Now

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 5.2k words

description: your best friend and roommate eddie is pissing you off, per usual. his way of making you feel heard is not very conventional.

warnings: 18+ content, MDNI, no use of y/n, roommate au, lowkey pwp, best friend!eddie, reader and eddie are both in their 30s, a bit of force proximity, reader is awkward as fuck (she just like me), reader hasn't gotten dick lately, mentions of voyeurism (eddie and reader have listened to each other having sex), kind of dom!eddie, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, lots and lots of dirty talk, eddie cums in reader.... annoying ass neighbors?

authors note: yeah i don't know. i'm just horny for this man. all of the time. thanks to lindsey @amanitacowboy who CONSISTENTLY feeds into my delusions. love u.

how to help palestine ~ dividers by @cafekitsune

He pissed you off for the fourth time today. 

You had spent most of your day doing yard work, trying to ensure the home you two shared did not look overgrown for your snooty neighbors. They already hated that there was an unmarried couple living next to them. Even worse they were not even a couple. 

Eddie and you had been friends for over a decade. When you two could not find someone to settle down with once you both turned 30, you decided to rent a house together. You were sick of living at home with your parents and everyone else around you was in love. Steve had Kira, Robin had Vicki, and well… you had Eddie. Eddie had you. But not in a romantic sense. 

That’s what you two told yourselves, at least. 

Made crystal clear years ago, you and Eddie knew your friendship meant more than some knee jerk desires. You had kissed once, and you would be lying if you said you did not enjoy it. He was tentative, kissing you like he was trying to melt all your worries away. At the time, it was a desperate attempt to distract your mind from a shitty break up and Eddie had gotten a bit too high. 

That next morning, you sat down with him and discussed boundaries. No kissing, no sex. That was the hard line, and for years, you two had kept that promise to yourselves. 

There had been moments. An evening out with friends where you two would dance all night together and when you parted to go to your separate rooms, you would linger in the hallway just staring at each other. No one ever caved because you both knew you would regret it in the morning. Or the tense nights where one of you said something to rub the other person the wrong way. Sometimes it would turn into you two apologizing in the dimly lit kitchen, hugging and swaying near the flickering oven lightbulb. 

Today was going to be one of those days for sure. Everything he did rubbed you the wrong way.

He had not done the dishes last night, deciding to stay up late and drink himself into a deep slumber. When you woke up, wrapped in your falling-apart-at-the-seams robe and saw the dishes, you wanted to throw an empty beer bottle at him. But you didn’t. You just did them and didn’t say a word.

Then there was leaving his wet clothes in the washing machine. The moment your nose got a whiff of the despicable scent of molding clothes, you slammed the top down and groaned his name. He was not even in the house, deciding as soon as he woke up that he needed to go get a pack of cigarettes from the gas station. 

Then there was him being adamant about washing his van with the hose you were trying to use to water the dying plants in the flower beds surrounding your front door. You just grit your teeth, jerking your head into a nod when he asked for it. 

Now here he is, making you mad again as you sweat all of your body weight over some weeds. 

“I’m having some of the guys over tonight for some burgers-��� “No.”

He narrows his eyes at you, swatting a gnat away from his face as you place your hands on your hips. 

“Why not?”

You had a list. A big long list. The house was a disaster. The neighbors called a noise complaint last time. The grill needed propane.

This was the tipping point. “Eddie, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you in our front yard,” You blow up, throwing off your gardening gloves, “You haven’t done shit for this house in months. I am like your own little personal housewife. I am the only person in this house that keeps it nice and clean. I haven’t had a night out in months because I am using my weekends to keep up with this shithole. I haven’t had a guy over in over a year, for fucks sake! No guy wants to fuck a girl who lives with a shitty roommate who can’t even clean. I need… I need your help.” 

His demeanor shifts, his shoulders slumping a bit. You did not mean for the word vomit to come out like that. You sounded vicious, but all of it needed to come out at sometime.

“Sweetheart-” But you do not want his excuses. You wave him off, storming towards the front door and swinging open the glass door, letting it shut behind you. You needed cold A/C on your face. You were about to pass out from anger and heatstroke. Damn Indiana summers. 

Eddie launches the door open, practically chasing you down to the kitchen. You stand under a vent, tilting your face directly towards the line of air. 

“What do you need my help with?” He asks, a slight arrogance in his tone. 

You don’t even look at him. You just hum as the cold air caresses your face. “The dishes. The laundry. Fuckin’ clean a toilet-”

“And what about guys not coming over?”

You finally tilt your head over at him, confused. “Huh?”

He looks at you with this fire in his eyes that you have almost never seen before. Maybe once or twice when one of his ex girlfriend’s said something based. He did not seem angry, per se, but he seemed agitated.

He crosses his arms over his chest, covering the Metallica logo on the front of his black tank top. His arms are toned and sprawling with randomly harsh lined tattoos. You had to thank Steve for the toned muscles as he was forcing Eddie to lift weights with him twice a week. You are definitely seeing the results. 

“You said no guy wants to fuck a girl who lives with a shitty roommate,” He states plainly, leaning against the kitchen island, “How am I supposed to help you with that?”

It’s like he’s trying to hint at something. Eddie was notorious for not saying what he really wanted to say, just simply talking around the subject. 

“Let me have a night off where I’m not cleaning up after you. Maybe I can bring a guy home.”

He cocks his head to the side, pursing his lips as his eyes take you in your sweaty clothing. You had sweat dripping into places you never knew you even had. You felt better being in the air conditioning, but that did not disguise the already stained areas of the front of your oversized t-shirt and biker shorts. 

“You don’t need me to… do anything else?”

Will this be fifth time Eddie Munson pisses you off today?

“Say what you need to say, Munson,” You warn, annoyed by the creeping smile on his face. 

You watch as he uncrosses his arms, leaning forward towards you. “Do you need me to fuck you, princess? Is that what this is?”

Your jaw hits the floor at his offer.

“What? H-how are you getting that from this-” “You just need a good fuck to release all this tension. It’s written all over you.”

He has never been this bold before. It’s blowing your mind. He has never propositioned sex to you, ever. Maybe jokingly. Wait, last week he did suggest it to get rid of your period cramps-

“You have to be kiddin’ me, Munson.”

He shakes his head, dipping his head down to meet your eyes, “I’m deadly serious, princess.”

“You’re just sayin’ this to piss me off even more-”

He presses his pointer finger to your lips, shushing you immediately, “All this talk and I’m not hearing a no.”

You swat his hand away, groaning in annoyance. You gave Eddie props, he was very convincing when he wanted to be. But you knew better.

But then again, it had been a year since a guy pleased you. 

“Eddie, you know the promise we made all those years ago. No kissing. No sex,” You lean further away, your back arching over the counter. “You can’t just propose this because I am angry at you and want you to take some accountability.”

“I’m not proposing this because I wanna weasel my way out of trouble. I’m doing it because you have been so tense these last couple months, I feel like I am walking on eggshells,” He explains, tossing his hands in the air dramatically, “Just let me get it out of your system. I know it’s been a year or so.”

“How do you know?”

You were trying to find a way out. The deepest darkest secret you held in the very depths of your heart was that you did have feelings for Eddie. You have since high school. But Eddie was occupied in every place in life and you got the permanent label as friend before you even had a chance. He dated around and you were stuck secretly obsessing over him, which- whatever. It was fine. 

All his passes at you were just normal at this point. You never gave them a second thought. You were idle in the idea that it was just jokes and that he never meant it. Even when he said he would give you head to make you feel better when the last guy you dated broke up with you. Or when he told you that he liked the way your hands felt pressed against his bare chest when you helped him apply sunscreen. Or when-

Wait... Did friends usually say that to each other?

“How do I know what?” He asks, his voice wavering a bit.

You huff, “How do you know it’s been a year?”

A mischievous smile spreads across his lips, “Because the last time I heard you through the wall moaning and begging, was about March of last year. It’s currently June.”

The heat rises back to your cheeks as you stare at him wide eyed. You did not realize he was even home when you last had someone over, let alone knew he heard it all.

“Eddie! You sick bastard! You listened?!”

You go to smack his chest but he snatches your hand away, the darkness in his eyes only hinting at his intentions. 

“How can I not? You were so loud for that guy,” He almost looks jealous. Almost. 

“I-“

“Just begging for him to let you cum. Did you, sweetheart? Did you cum for that slimeball?”

Your mouth opens slightly, realizing his hand is still wrapped around your wrist. No ease in the tension around it, just white-knuckling it. 

“I don’t remember-“

“Those moans sounded too good to be true, princess. But what do I know,” He sits back against the counter again, pulling your body closer as he does, “You’ve never cum for me. Maybe you actually do sound like that.”

You really should not. You should just yank your arm away from him and mark this down as Eddie just being a perv again. But something inside you, the tension, the annoyance, the desire, is starting to burn a pit in your stomach.

“I can.”

He raises his eyebrows, pulling your wrist and hand up to his shoulder so you rest it there. You grip onto his bare shoulder, while his arm snakes around your waist. 

“You can what?”

Your mouth goes dry, unsure if you can actually mutter the words. You usually had no filter with Eddie, but right now you felt like your voice completely cut out. He looks down at you, his head tilted in curiosity. “Say it, sweetheart. You can what?”

You grit your teeth, finally submitting. 

“I could cum for you.”

He arrogantly smirks, his fingers sneaking up under your shirt, “Yeah, princess? You wanna cum for me?”

Coming from his lips, it’s like melted butter. It seems so natural, his voice dropping as he speaks such absurd things to you. You smack your lips together, almost like you are contemplating giving in. But your mind is already made up. 

Before you can even give him a taste of his own medicine, your mind slips.

“If only you make me scream like those other girls.”

Fuck. Why did you say that?

His mouth only widens, shocked at the statement. “So you were listening to me, huh? You called me a sick bastard mere moments ago when you were doing the same thing!”

Your fingers pinch his earlobe, making him flinch a bit. “Eddie, you cannot help but be loud! Neither can they!”

Your defense is weak, but you try to sound convincing. 

“Well they are screaming for a reason, sweetheart.”

You dismiss the comment for a minute, really trying to mull this idea over. Would this cost you his friendship? Was it all really worth it? 

Your nails trail down and dig into his shoulder blade, warningly. “Do you seriously want to do this?”

He shrugs, casually, like this is the most normal conversation you two have ever had. “I’ve been trying to figure out a way to get you in my bed for years. Seems like I just gotta get you all angry and hot for you to even think about it.”

The revelation deflates you a bit. You mentally slap yourself, thinking back to all the times Eddie has offered you ‘time’ with him in bed. You always took his passes as jokes, because that’s just Eddie. He’s never been serious a day in his life. 

You press your body into him more, your nose getting closer to his, “You’ve wanted this for years?”

He nudges your nose with his, playfully, “Don’t act all surprised.”

The tension is at an all time high. The moment your eyes drop to his lips, you cannot peel them away from them. You have been close to him like this before, but never with explicit intentions. Maybe just to tease him or pester him. One time to inspect a possible bug that flew into his eye. 

Eddie was your friend. Best friend. 

Why was he looking different?

He notes the way you are silent, observing the way his lips curl upward into a toothless grin. 

He shifts down, capturing your lips in a hesitant kiss, testing the waters. When the softness of his lips makes impact on your slightly dry lips, you feel self-conscious for a beat. 

That was until you felt Eddie’s other hand sneak around your waist and pull you even closer. It’s the quiet reassurance you did not even know you needed. 

You lean into it, practically falling into his chest completely. The kiss only progresses from there. Your hand cradles his neck as his hands sneak down from your waist to your ass. You had seen Eddie kiss before, but having it be done to you is a completely different experience. He’s hungry for it, but he’s also so tender and calculated with the movements. 

The groping turns into him leveraging you upward onto the countertop. He slots himself between your legs, feeling up your thighs as his tongue slips past your lips. He’s good at stimulating you in every way, your body riddled with goosebumps. You cannot help the groans leaving your throat.

“God, you’re so hot,” He grumbles between kisses. You giggle into his mouth which makes him shake his head and pull away. 

You hold his face close to yours, smiling up at his lust-blown eyes. “Never thought I’d hear you say that. Well… in this situation at least.”

“Can you just shush and let me make you feel good?” His lips trail down from your cheek peppering wet kisses to your neck, “Lemme make it up to you, sweetheart. Been a bad friend. Bad roommate.”

You roll your eyes for two reasons. One, he’s a dork. Two, his lips feel way too good on your throat.

“Make it up to me by being a good lover.”

He barks a laugh, almost too loud for the joke. “Oh, you want me to make love to you?”

“Can you just keep kissin’-”

His lips touch your collarbones and suddenly your body stiffens. You look down at his sinful expression, his lips dragging lower over your chest. His hand returns to the hem of your shirt, slowly tugging it over your head. Your ratty old sports bra was the least sexy thing you could be wearing, but Eddie eyes you like you are in lacey red lingerie with his name stitched into it. You take it upon yourself to peel the sweaty bra off, luckily the only scent you smell when you lift your arms is your antiperspirant.

“You are more perfect than I imagined,” Eddie mumbles, his hands reaching out to cup your boobs. His hands still adorned with his gaudy rings. Makes the sight even more breathtaking. 

You roll your eyes, not believing him, “You’ve seen me in a bathing-”

His head dips down, catching your nipple in his mouth. The action silences you and instead of continuing your nervous babbling, you moan out his name. He rolls your pebbled nipple between his teeth while hissing in satisfaction. You can not stop yourself from raking your fingers through his curls. 

He pulls away from your chest, pressing a quick kiss to your other tit, “I can’t do this if you continue to give me grief.”

The dig makes you blush. You were always awful when it came to dirty talk. Making it awkward was, unfortunately, your specialty. You nod sheepishly, untangling your fingers from his deep chocolate brown hair.

“I’ll shut up.”

He shakes his head, his lips finding the spot right below your ear. You can feel the smirk on his face, "No, don’t shut up. Just keep making those other pretty sounds for me, sweetheart.”

His thumbs hook around the elastic waistband of your shorts, tugging them down. You lift your hips, using his shoulders to balance yourself. You don’t expect him to have you completely naked on your kitchen counter, but the moment your underwear peel away from your cunt, you realize that the wetness between your legs is not just sweat. 

He pulls away from your neck to look at your bare body before him and the groan he lets out makes your pussy clench around nothing. His hand skips down your body, eventually groping your hips. 

“Eddie,” You hum, tilting his chin up so his eyes meet yours, “I’m very naked and you are not.”

He smiles wickedly, shaking his head, “‘Cause I ain’t fuckin’ you here, sweetheart. This is just a really good place for me to get on my knees and devour you.”

You swallow hard, watching him drop to one knee, making him eye level with your glistening cunt, “And look at how beautiful and wet she is for me. This all for me, sweet girl?”

“You’re not the only one who’s been wanting this for a while,” You admit, your eyes drooping to watch his mouth move across your inner thighs. You are a bit self-conscious, not having prepared your pussy for this kind of activity, but Eddie does not seem to mind. He admires you like a piece of art at a museum.

He flicks his tongue out of his mouth, unhurriedly moving up your slit. Once he has his first taste, that smile returns, “Mmm, there’s that confession I’ve been waiting for.”

Your mind draws a blank as he dives back in, pressing his tongue between your pussy lips. He has never looked so happy doing a task in his life, his beautifully straight teeth bared as his tongue swirls around your clit. His grip only tightens on your thighs ensuring you do not move them together. He needs you nice and wide open while he tongue fucks you. 

He becomes more eager with his movements the moment you try to brace yourself on the edge of the counter. His fingers hook down into your flesh, dragging you to the edge of the surface. He does not miss a beat while he suckles on your clit, wrapping his plump pink lips around it and slurping it like a straw. 

The knot in your stomach is tightening as you study his actions. Somehow it is like he knows your body better than you do. 

The instant he sinks his pointer and middle finger into your soaked cunt, it is game over. Your body reacts before your mind does, vibrating against his mouth and fingers. He does not slow down when you clench around him, instead, he increases his speed and ministrations. 

“Jesus, fuck, Eddie,” you whimper, surrendering to the climax. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting your mouth hang ajar as random moans escape you. Your nerve endings have never felt so electrified in your life. 

Once you feel a slight come down, Eddie comes back up for air. His lips are shiny with his own saliva and whatever escaped you when you came. 

You drop your head back, hitting the upper cabinet. 

“You didn’t even have to beg for the first one,” He grunts, getting back to his feet. He locks his arm around your knees and drags your upper half into his other arm, “But the second one, you have to ask for permission, ‘kay?”

His lips are pressed to your temple, kissing you gingerly. 

“You want me to beg, Eds?”

He chuckles darkly, carrying you princess-style across the house and to the living room. He could take you to bed, but he is not sure if that feels too intimate. You just want him inside you, not caring much where he decides to do it. 

You bounce on the worn-down couch as he drops you down, your bare ass immediately sticking to the leather. His discards his tank top and practically jumps on top of you, his hips resting between your legs. You greedily tug at his basketball shorts, begging to reveal the length behind the tented fabric. 

“Mmm, eager, are we?”

You had seen Eddie’s ass plenty of times. His shirtless frame. But never his dick. His tight pants left little to the imagination most times. But up close, pressed against your palm, you cannot help but gasp about how big he is. 

He grabs your wrist firmly, his curls dropping down his shoulders as he shakes his head, “Wanna hear you beg.”

It spills right out of your desperate mouth. “Please, Eddie.”

“Please what?”

“Let me see your cock,” Your eyes reflecting faux innocence, “Please?”

He cannot help but giggle, assisting you in getting his shorts down his tattooed legs. You had been next to him for the big one on his right thigh, an ode to his favorite Metallica album. You did not completely understand the concept, but the black ink littering his body only added to his appeal. 

His cock is even better than your mind had mocked up before. Long, slightly curved to the left, and not too thick that he may split you in half. 

You truly cannot fathom the fact that this is happening. He is willingly showing you his dick and smiling at you while you gawk. 

He is naked above you, and God is he breathtaking. The mop of curls, the broadness of his shoulders, his very slight tummy from all the beer he drinks, the works of art littering his pale skin.

Your eyes finally make their way back up to his, only to note the serious look he’s giving you. 

“What?”

His lips twitch, “Just can’t believe I finally get to do this. And that it’s real and it’s not all in my head.”

Your heart stutters. 

You lick your lips, searching every crevice of your mind for a response. He realizes that you are trying to muddle up a reply and that he has broken your brain temporarily. So instead of letting you counter his statement, he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. 

He wastes no time after that, grabbing his dick and pushing it between your slick folds. You groan into his mouth, your pussy still very sensitive from the first orgasm he gave you. Your hand snakes around the back of his neck, holding his face close to yours. 

“Eddie-“

He pushes into you before you can say anything else, a hiss whistling between his clenched teeth. 

“God damn,” He throws his head back, shaking your hand away from his neck, “You’re fuckin’ tight, princess.”

The moan that leaves your throat is a whole octave lower than your actual voice. Eddie looks down at you, the widest smile painted across his face. You feel his hips inch closer and closer to you and you realize he is not fully inside you yet. 

You take a breath, trying to relax your muscles, “Please, please, please.”

He snaps his hips forward, a dark guttural chuckle taunting you. “There she is. Beggin’.”

Eddie had changed into a completely different person. Sure, he was always picking on you, but this was a stark contrast from your silly best friend. The man above you, slowly rocking his hips inside you, was feral. His confidence only burning brighter the more you whimper for him. 

“Please, faster.”

The wet squelching noise that emits between your bodies is borderline embarrassing. You had never heard such a sound with any other man. Eddie loves it, though. The idea that you were just gushing for him is enough to send him into overdrive. 

“Yeah? You want me to go faster,” He pushes your thighs apart, spreading you wider. He wants to look at how beautiful your pussy looks stuffed full of him. “Look at that.”

You shift yourself up on your elbows, looking down at the sight he cannot peel his eyes away from. “Jesus, I cannot believe…”

You drift off, watching Eddie slowly retreat back only to sharply snap forward. Your jaw goes slack as he drives himself into you, disappearing over and over again. 

Eddie‘s eyes are now on you, watching your tits jiggle every time his cock pierces your squishy walls. 

“You really needed this, huh, princess?”

You watch as he reaches down between your bodies, swiping your clit with his thumb.

Your eyes roll back, unable to hold yourself together, “I really did, oh my god.”

Your legs stiffen and Eddie’s hands loosen up, letting you squirm and adjust yourself. Your hips burn and your mind is mush. Eddie’s erratic movements against your swollen bud and his rapidly moving hips are overstimulating, you cannot help but lock your legs around him. 

“Yeah, I can fucking feel you clenching around me,” He babbles, licking his lips, “You just take my cock so well, don’t you? Just fuckin’ made for me.”

He does not stop talking as you grunt your response. You have never seen the man so driven to get something done in your life. He wants to cum, but he wants to feel you fall apart on him even more. His words are just pouring out of him.

“Yeah? You want me to make you mine, huh? Gonna make this pussy somethin’ only I can have.“

Your eyes fly open in shock, his words ringing in your ears. You feel his dick twitch inside you, hitting the same perfect spot over and over again. “Please, please.”

“Fuck, say it, baby. Say that you’re mine.”

He is so desperate, his usual calm, cool, collected voice faltering. 

“I’m yours, Eddie.”

His thumb presses hard down on your clit, causing your hips to shift upward. The nerve endings that were ablaze before are now imploding. 

The vibration of your body catches him off guard at first, so he locks his hands on your hips. You lurch your body into a crescent shape as he continues to chase his high. A final scream rips through your body, chanting his name. 

Every snap forward was another word slipping from his practically drooling mouth. He fucked his cum deep inside you, his words bouncing off the walls.

“Yes.” “The.” “Fuck.” “You.” “Are.”

Your body goes completely limp under him the moment your high dissipates. He is panting like he just ran 10 miles as he slowly drifts to his side, positioning his nude body between your body and the back couch cushions. When his cock leaves your cunt, he dribbles cum over your mound and lower tummy. You glance down at your body, completely blissed out. 

You have never felt more appreciated in your life.

He lays his head right on your shoulder, fanning your sweaty body with his warm breath. He does not say anything, just settles next you, throwing his arm over your midsection.

You swallow, trying to regain your composure. You thought after doing something like this with Eddie, you would feel some guilt. Regret, maybe. But none of those emotions spring up.

You felt relaxed and at peace. Like you walked off the edge of a cliff and instead of landing on a rocky bottom, you landed on a sea of fluffy pillows. It was a relief. 

Your eyes fall onto his lazily smirking face, “I did really need that.”

He hums his response at first, before clearing his throat. “Yeah, I could tell. I can read you pretty well, huh?”

That’s the understatement of the century. He can read you perfectly. 

You start to reflect on every word that spilled from his lips during the entire interaction, and suddenly your stomach is in knots. You start to wonder if he really did feel those things, or if he was just lost in the moment. You almost don’t ask in fear that he will tell you something you didn’t want to hear. 

“Did you mean everything you said,” You press, your hand absentmindedly tucking some of his hair behind of his ear. His fingers dance across your flesh, eventually swirling around your collarbones.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

He says it so simply. You wanted to believe it was that easy, but there is logistical things that needed to be discussed. Feelings and thoughts that needed further explanation. 

Eddie can see that your mind is racing. Your expression gives you away every time. His mouth slowly opens to further elaborate on his response, but before he can get out a word, there’s a pounding at your front door. 

It is so sudden and loud, you both sit up from the couch. 

“Mr. Munson! You left your hose on! There’s a drought-”

You tune out the rest of the rant from your elderly neighbor because Eddie starts chuckling and rubbing his eyes. He looks down at you as the rant starts to get louder, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips before grabbing his boxers off the floor. 

“You stay there, beautiful. I’ll deal with this.”

You do as he says, the bliss he left you in after the kiss enough to hold you over until he comes crawling back on top of you. He stumbles back into his boxers, going to the front door and cracking it so he can get eyes on your neighbor. 

“Yeah, my fault, Mr. O’Connell. Had to comfort my lady because she cut herself on the shovel. I’ll be right out to shut off that hose and save the rainforest or whatever.”

You hear a scoff from behind the door, the older gentleman taken off guard. “Oh, so she’s your lady now?”

You can hear the smile that spreads across his face. “Always has been, sir.”

[thejoequinnlibrary]

Posted each Friday at 11am EST—

Here are the writer’s that have been added to the library this week!

If you or a writer you know would like to be added, please message or send me an ask! I would love to add you! 🫶🏻

Welcome!

@eddiesvixen @stardancerluv

Thank you for joining the community!

[thejoequinnlibrary]

Hello! I love writing. I try & proofread but I have dyslexia so there will be typos! (Sorry!) I also will always try and do justice to the concept of reader…who will always be Fem!Reader! There are some amazing writers, @mlmxreader who are fantastic at Male Reader. I would not want to stomp on their territory! (Please don’t creep on their accounts!)

My writing is always for 18+ Even the fluffy ones since they may or may not reference issues that I don’t want someone 18 & younger to read.

I enjoyed Stranger Things since season 1. Steve & his friendship with Robin and Dustin…love it so much. I watched season 4 & I fell hard for Eddie Munson & Joseph Quinn!

So please… no drama! Comments…reblogs & feedback is always welcome! Finally, I do have a tag list..want on it? Just ask!! Thank you for reading!!!

I love what Joseph Quinn did with Eddie.

I decided to write my own version of Eddie that weaves in and out of the events of the season!

Blossoming of a Shy Violet 👈🏻 (click here to find current and track new chapter release!) Eddie is currently paused (wow! sorry didn’t realize its been so long!)

Summary

—-Eddie encounters the new girl in school after addressing his fellow students in the cafeteria. She is reluctant to get to know anyone. Can Eddie change her mind?

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader. It includes…fluffy, angsty, & smutty moments. 18 only….DNI if you are a minor.

Warning: includes (not limited to)… Esteem issues, bullying, murder referenced, underage drinking Virgin!Reader, oral m&f, PV sex, fingering, dom!Eddie (to a name a few)

Pumpkin and the Beast (click here for current and up to date chapter listings!)

——Bookworm, cutesy fem!reader gets into trouble at a party Eddie rescues her. It’s an established friendship, a few months in the making. Will explore what happens when opposites come together?

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader. It will include…fluff, angst, & perhaps smutty moments. 18 only….DNI if you are a minor.

Studying English Literature in college, I became a fan of Les Miserables. I enjoyed the various versions. I had never heard of the BBC!Version (till Joe) Enjolras was one of my favorite characters…viva revolution! I decided to write a story around him.

A Time to Love and To Fight 👈🏻 (click here to find current and track new chapter release!)

new chapters coming soon!!!

Summary

——Reader is her own girl. She has to take care of her household. By accident, she runs into Enjolras.

This story is Enjolras x Fem!Reader. This story now contains angst, fluff & smut!

Warning: French Revolution mind set (gonna try and capture this!) War themes, sickness, dated view of women!

I watched Catherine the Great & fell for Prince Paul. Growing up I heard many stories about Russia. This is why the story will be an AU of Prince Paul.

By the Light of the Silvery Moon (click here for new parts!)

—-Prince Paul has to deal with his mother & all of Russia. Its not long before he meets fem!reader & is engaged. Now he has to juggle that & the Russian court. Shortly, he weds his mother sends him away and he will not return the same Paul.

Warning: There will be fluff, angst, smut & supernatural elements! And lastly the reader is a fem!reader.

There Will Never Be Another You

Part One

Part Two

This is my attempt at writing a story for Grunauer. He truly deserved better then the cards he was dealt. Here I will try and do him justice.

Warning: There will be flufff…angst…smut and there may be some supernatural elements to it. Also will have a lot of dated thoughts on men & women. This will show how how be also will have a fem!reader. Enjoy!

All ❤️s, reblogs & feedback are welcome!

What the Emperor Wants

👆🏻(Link to master list) 👆🏻

Emperor Geta has recently acquired “reader” she is to do with as he pleases. What does that really mean? We are gonna learn what is to belong to Emperor Geta.

It will have mature themes throughout it!

❤️s, comments, feedback, & reblogs are always welcome!

Hello! 👋🏻 Like I said above…Been a fan of Stranger Things since season 1. Saw Eddie and fell hard for him & Joe. Steve’s arch is by far one of my fav bits of the show. There are so many…so many amazing Steve fanfics out there.

Never felt the need write one. That said, I do enjoy Joe Keery’s work. Most recently…Fargo Season 5 & Marmalade! Can’t wait to see Finally Dawn. That said, Fargo Season 5…his character Gator Tillman…has me in a strangle hold.

The Past Follows Like a Shadow

(Link leads to the chapters! 👆🏻)

This story is an AU to Fargo Season 5.

Gator Tillman…had a childhood friend who turned into a girlfriend till his dad put the kibosh to it. That girl is back in town. What will that mean for Gator…what will it mean to her??

All ❤️s, reblogs & feedback are welcome!

A Space Journey

👆🏻(link to master list) 👆🏻

Tyler Harrison, is a tough salvager working and & living on Jackson Star Mining Colony. He’s there with family and friends…and his girl. The company reaches out… enjoy!

18+ themes. Angst, Fluff & Smut

❤️s, reblogs, comments & feedback is always welcome’

P. S. In case…there is anyone still looking or wanting to read some Ewan McGregor fan-fiction & his amazing characters. Ewan McGregor Master List 👈🏻 Click here for all my Ewan McGregor Fan-fiction)

[thejoequinnlibrary]

𝑏𝑒𝑑’𝑠 𝑎 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑛𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 ♱⛧ 𓃶

Luna 🗝️ 20 🗝️ Eddie Munson 🗝️ Joseph Quinn

currently… 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑟𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠 ☠︎︎

Boyfriend Eddie Munson Pt. 1

I Want You - coming soon -

[thejoequinnlibrary]

Hi! You can call me Sunshine! ☀️

I’m here to let you all know that I have started a project for Joseph Quinn writers, much like the Pedro Pascal Library that’s been around (that is what inspired this project! 🫶🏻). This is a place where I’ll be collecting all writers who want to participate and putting them here on this blog for the convenience of others in the fandom.

I’d like for this to become a community resource! For anyone to find new fanfic writers, new fanfics, new friends, etc.

If you see this post and want to be added, please send me a message/ask with your handle, the characters you write, and a link to your masterlist if it’s not easily accessible! You’ll only be added to the writers list with your permission!

**x reader pairings, x oc, and x character pairings (as long as a JQ character or JQ is the other half of the pairing) are allowed**

The list of writers is slowly growing— thank you for wanting to be apart of this project that is so special to me! 🫶🏻

[thejoequinnlibrary]

Drunk in my mind | Joseph Quinn (part III)

PAIRING: Joseph Quinn x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Joe and you (actress!reader) met during the filming of a romantic thriller, you two struggle to keep your undeniable chemistry professional. But when intimate scenes push your limits, the line between acting and reality begins to blur.

wc: 5.3K

warning: fluff, slow burn, co-stars to friends, friends to lovers, mentions of sex, swearing, overthinking, angst

a/n: here's the final chapter for these two. Hope you enjoy it as much i did bringing it to live.

Feedback is welcomed <3

request are open  | masterlist

part I | part II | part III

The news had unsettled him. It would be a lie to say otherwise.  When he had thought that all the pressure from intense scenes were gone, production had decided that it'd be great to explore the intensity of the relationship of your characters by changing some scenes about the breakup between them. 

You two were informed together, first thing in the morning after some days since your last scene together. Joe had searched in your eyes for a response, a hint about what you were thinking… but he couldn’t get anything. Your eyes were distant, unapproachable. 

Mark gave each one of you a copy of the rescripted scene so you could follow the reading and oh God, it was even worse than he had imagined. 

None of you said a thing, but the similarity to the breaking point you were going through was irrefutable. For a second, the idea that it was done on purpose crossed Joe’s mind… but he knew it wasn’t like that. It was just a coincidence, a terrible and hurtful coincidence. 

“I never wanted to hurt you.” Joe read, trying to sound dull and barely looking at you. 

But Mark wouldn’t take it and demanded more veracity. 

He sighed and obliged himself to lock his eyes with yours. 

“I never wanted to hurt you.” he said with a broken voice, almost trembling. 

“Then why did you?” you said back, not needing to read it from the script. You sounded terribly genuine and Joe could’t keep looking at you. 

Joe shifted beside you, the tension rising like a storm cloud in the room. His fingers trembled slightly as he held the script, the weight of the scene pressed down on him. He knew it was just acting, just lines to deliver. But those words... they feel too real, too personal. You two had crossed a line between performance and truth, and the reality of it stung. 

Mark asked you two to memorize it fast so you could practise a bit before taking it to the set the next day. You both had less than 24 hours to learn the lines, practice and execute it. But Joe felt like that was the easy part, the tough one was to pretend again that anything of it felt real. 

-

Joe stood there, gripping the script in his hands, the weight of the words in front of him feeling heavier than ever. His chest was tight, and his mind raced as he tried to prepare himself for what was about to unfold. Mark had insisted on rehearsing the scene before they shot it. Of course, it made sense—this was the heart of the story, the climax of everything that had been building up. But Joe wasn’t sure he was ready to face it.

He could feel your presence beside him, even though you hadn’t spoken in what felt like weeks. Every inch of him wanted to avoid looking at you, but the words were pushing him to face you—to feel the weight of what you were about to do.

The silence stretched on for a moment, and Joe felt the tension between you tighten. The crew was setting up, the distant hum of activity in the background, but here, in this room, it felt like there was nothing but the two of you. He could barely keep his hands from trembling.

Mark gave a quick nod, signaling for them to begin. "Let’s just take it from the top," he said, his voice steady, but Joe could see the tension in his eyes too. He knew this scene would be everything.

Joe opened the script and read the first lines but he was looking at you when his voice came out hoarse, almost like he wasn’t sure if he even believed the words he was about to speak.

“You don’t get it, do you? I never wanted things to end like this”

His voice cracked slightly, and he could feel his face flush with discomfort. He glanced at you then, but only for a split second—just enough to see your stiff posture, the way you were holding herself together, as if everything in you wanted to run but were forcing yourself to stay.

You didn’t speak at first, but your eyes narrowed, and Joe could tell you were already calculating your response. That same cold distance had settled back in between you. It had been there for weeks. But this time, something felt different. He wasn’t pretending anymore. He couldn’t. The weight of the scene was too much.

When you finally responded, your voice was steady, too steady. Too controlled. But Joe could hear the hurt buried beneath it.

“But they did… and it doesn’t look like there’s nothing left to fix”

The words landed in the space between you, heavier than any line you’d ever said on set. His stomach dropped, and for a moment, he almost forgot the rest of the scene. It was too real. It felt like something that should’ve been left behind—something too painful to confront.

He could feel himself shutting down, but he knew he couldn’t. He had to push through it.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he muttered, the words tasting bitter as they left his mouth. He looked at you, his heart pounding.

It was true—he never had. But somehow, somewhere along the way, he had. And now here you were, saying the things you never had the courage to say in real life, making it all too raw, too painful to pretend it was just acting.

You didn’t flinch, but there was something in your eyes, something that made his breath catch. He could see the same confusion, the same anger, that had been there when everything fell apart. It felt like you were reliving it, just as much as he was.

The silence stretched again. Joe could feel his skin growing too tight, like he was suffocating under the weight of it all. His fingers tightened around the script, but it didn’t help. Nothing would.

His voice broke the silence again, but this time it was more of a nervous laugh, a way to cover the unease bubbling up inside him. "Jesus Christ, this is brutal," he muttered under his breath, trying to lighten the mood.

But it didn’t help. It didn’t change anything. It just made the discomfort more obvious.

He glanced at you, hoping to see some sign that you were as uncomfortable as he was, but instead, you just looked… like you were losing control. Your eyes were wide, and your breath was shallow. Joe could see the strain in your face, the tension in your jaw. It was all too real for you, too much.

Then, after a beat that felt like an eternity, you broke. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and when you opened them again, they were brimming with unshed tears. You inhaled sharply, as if trying to hold everything back.

“I can’t do this right now,” you said, your voice trembling despite your best effort to keep it steady.

You didn’t wait for him to respond, didn’t even look at him or anyone in the room as you dropped the script and walked out of the room, your steps echoing in the silence that followed your.

Joe stood there, staring after you, his own breath caught in his throat. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to fix it. The weight of the scene, of everything you were both feeling, crushed him in that moment.

He stood frozen in the rehearsal room, staring at the door where you had just walked out. The weight of the halted scene hung in the air, thick and suffocating. His mind replayed the intensity of those lines, of your reaction, and the way the raw emotions they were supposed to act out had bled into the reality of the situation.

He wanted to follow you, but something held him back. He needed a moment to collect himself, to process everything that had just happened. The script in his hand felt heavier than ever, and he found himself reading the same line over and over without really understanding the words.

The director's voice broke through the silence, pulling him back to the present. He stood next to Joe, his expression serious, more so than usual.

"Joe," Mark said, his voice low but firm. "I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but it’s clear this isn’t working. The tension is there, yeah, but it’s not helping the scene. If you don’t figure it out, it won’t work. I’ve let it slide for a while, but you need to resolve this. It’s urgent."

Joe’s chest tightened as Mark’s words sunk in. He knew he was right. The tension between him and you wasn’t just affecting the scene—it was affecting everything. And now, it was spilling over into the real world, making it impossible to get through even a single rehearsal.

Mark continued, his voice softer but no less determined. "Take some time if you need it. But you have to talk. This scene is important, and we need to get it right today."

Joe nodded absently, the weight of the words settling deep in his gut. The scene, the tension, everything—it wasn’t just about acting anymore. It was about the unresolved emotions between you. And that was far more complicated than he had ever imagined.

As Mark walked away, Joe felt a heavy urgency settle over him. He couldn’t keep avoiding this. If there was any hope of getting through this, of fixing things with you, he needed to face it.

Without a second thought, his feet carried him toward the rest area, his thoughts spinning in a whirlwind of uncertainty. What would he say? What if you shut him out again? What if you didn’t want to talk?

But he couldn’t turn back now. Not after everything. He knocked on the door, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited, hoping that you would be ready to face this too.

-

You opened the door without a second thought, barely registering the weight of his presence before he stepped into the room. The last person you expected, or maybe the last person you needed. But there he was. And though you didn’t want to face him, you knew you couldn’t do this in front of the whole set. Not now. Not after everything.

He stood there for a beat, watching you, waiting for you to say something. But I wasn’t sure what to say, not when everything between you felt so... fragile. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost gentle.

“Are you okay?” His gaze was intense, but there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t just concern—it was something deeper, something that was harder to ignore.

You snapped without thinking, the frustration bubbling over before I could stop it. “Do I look okay to you?” Your words came out harsher than you meant, but it wasn’t like you could just pretend you were fine. “You should go. Please”

But instead of retreating, he took a step closer, his face tightening, his jaw clenched. He was silent for a moment, but then it broke. Everything he’d been holding back, all the anger, the confusion, the pain—it all came crashing out at once.

“You think I don’t care?” His voice was low, but it cut through the silence like a knife. “That all I wanted was to get through this fucking movie and move on like nothing ever happened?” His words were sharp, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he spoke.

You didn’t flinch, but his words hit harder than you wanted to admit. You could see the way his muscles tensed, how his fists curled at his sides as if fighting to keep himself together.

“You think this is easy for me?” he continued, his voice growing louder, more intense. “You think I’ve been just fine with this? With us? Hell no. Do you have any idea how fucking exhausting it’s been to pretend?” He stepped closer, and you could see the frustration in every line of his face. “To watch you act like I don’t exist?”

His eyes burned into your, relentlessly. And for the first time in weeks, you didn’t see the walls he’d put up. You didn’t see the guarded, distant Joe. You saw the person who had been carrying all of this, keeping it locked inside. He was raw, exposed, and in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel it, too.

But you didn’t respond. You didn’t retaliate with the same anger he was throwing at you. Instead, you held back. Cautiously. You needed him to get all of it out. To speak his truth, no matter how much it stung.

His voice broke slightly as he continued, the tension in the air so thick it was suffocating. “Do you think it doesn’t hurt me, too?” he said, his breath coming faster now. “Do you think I don’t wish I could change everything? That I don’t regret every fucking thing that’s happened? You’ve made it clear what you want. But I’m here, still here, and you keep pushing me away like I’m just... nothing.”

You didn’t say anything. Didn’t try to calm him down or argue. You were letting him speak, even if it felt like you were about to fall apart. This was the honesty you had been begging for, even if it came with a fury you weren't ready for.

His chest heaved, the strain in his voice betraying him. “I didn’t want to hurt you, you know?” He was quieter now, but the emotion was there, thick and heavy. “I never fucking wanted to hurt you. But I did. And it’s killing me to see you like this, to see you push me away like it was nothing. I’m not okay with this, but you... you’ve been acting like I don’t even matter.”

His words stung, but they were nothing compared to the way his eyes looked at you—like you were everything and nothing at once. It was too much to process, but at the same time, it was exactly what you needed to hear.

You stayed silent, not because you didn’t want to answer, but because you knew that if you opened my mouth right now, you might not be able to stop yourself from falling apart. Instead, you watched him, his frustration and pain spilling out in the rawest way possible.

He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. “God, this is so fucking hard,” he muttered, almost to himself. He sounded like he didn’t even know who he was anymore. “I can’t fix this if you won’t even let me try. And it’s driving me insane.”

There was a long silence between you, the tension unbearable, the air thick with everything left unsaid. You wanted to say something. Anything. But you held back.

This wasn’t the time for you to fight back, to argue, to match his anger. Not when he was this exposed, this broken.

So, you did nothing. You just stood there, letting him get it all out, knowing that this was what had to happen before anything could change. You had been waiting for him to finally be real, to drop the walls—and now that he had, you weren't about to stop him.

Finally, his words slowed, and he seemed to deflate, like all the energy he had left had been poured into that outburst. He was breathing harder now, looking at you, but there was a vulnerability in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. He wasn’t angry anymore—he was... lost. And for the first time in weeks, you saw him the way you had seen him before.

But you still didn’t speak. And the silence between you stretched on, heavy with everything that had been said, everything that still needed to be said.

It was too much for either of you to process in that moment, but you weren't going to walk away. Not now. Not when this was finally happening.

You watched as his posture changed, the rigidness in his shoulders giving way to something more fragile. There was a noticeable shift in his expression, a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. His breathing became uneven, and he lowered his gaze, as if ashamed of himself. His words came out softer now, but they were laced with an emotion you couldn’t ignore.

"I was scared, okay?" His voice cracked, and for a brief moment, it was as if the room held its breath, waiting for him to say more. "I didn’t know how to handle this. I didn’t know how to handle you."

The words hit you like a physical blow. It wasn’t what you were expecting—certainly not after everything that had happened—but somehow, it made sense. Everything he had said up until then, all the anger and the frustration, it had been just a mask. A defense. He had been fighting something deeper, something he hadn’t let out until that moment.

For a second, you didn’t know how to respond. You felt the weight of it in the pit of your stomach, that familiar ache of disappointment, of things left unsaid. But the sincerity in his voice made it hard to stay angry, harder to hold onto the walls you had built up.

You took a step forward, unsure of what exactly you were about to say, but knowing it was time to speak your truth too.

"You think I don’t get it?" Your words came out a little more fragile than you intended, but they held the truth you had been avoiding for so long. "I’ve been scared too, Joe. I’ve been terrified. But I didn’t know how to handle it either. I didn’t know how to handle... you."

There was a rawness in your voice now that matched his, a vulnerability you hadn’t let yourself show before. His words cut through the layers of frustration and hurt you had been holding onto for weeks, and now, without the anger to mask it, you felt the cracks starting to appear in your own defenses.

"I never wanted to get to this point," you continued, your voice quieter, more deliberate. "I never wanted to be... like this, with you. I didn’t want to be angry all the time, to feel like we were just two people passing by each other, pretending nothing mattered."

Joe’s eyes finally met yours, and there was something in them now—something different. The intensity was still there, but it was tempered by a kind of sadness, a recognition of the pain you both had carried. He didn’t say anything, but the way he was looking at you told you everything. This was the first real conversation you had had in what felt like forever.

For a moment, the silence stretched between you both, heavy with the weight of everything that had been left unsaid. You could feel your heart beating louder now, the sound echoing in your chest. It was terrifying to be this honest, to say everything that had been buried for so long, but it was also... necessary. You knew that then.

Finally, you spoke again, your voice a little steadier.

"I thought I could just ignore it, you know?" you admitted. "I thought if I kept pretending it didn’t matter, that it would go away. But it doesn’t. It never does. And here we are. And I don’t want to keep doing this anymore. I don’t want to keep pretending like this is okay when it’s not."

Joe nodded slowly, his gaze still locked on yours, his expression softening. It was clear that he was hearing you, that he was understanding you in a way he hadn’t before. Maybe it was the first time you had really listened to each other—not just in the heated moments of anger and frustration, but here, in the quiet aftermath.

"I know," he murmured, his voice still shaky, but softer now. "I never wanted to hurt you. I never meant for any of this to happen."

The air in the room suddenly changed.

You felt it the moment his voice dropped, the sharp edges of his anger giving way to something else—something darker, something heavier.

"I tried to push it away," Joe murmured, his voice raw. "To push you away. But I couldn’t. I never could."

His eyes burned into you, and it was impossible to look away.

"And seeing you every fucking day, pretending like it didn’t mean anything, like we didn’t mean anything—"

He stopped mid-sentence, his jaw clenching. Not because he was out of things to say, but because the words seemed to betray him, choking on the weight of them.

And then, he took a step forward.

It wasn’t aggressive, but it wasn’t hesitant either. It was pure instinct, pure need. A force pulling him closer before he could think better of it.

His hand twitched at his side—barely, but you caught it. Like he wanted to touch you. Like he didn’t know if he was allowed.

Your heart pounded so loud you were sure he could hear it.

His breathing was ragged, his jaw still tight, like he was fighting himself. Holding back, even now.

But his eyes—God, his eyes.

Dark and desperate, so full of something you didn’t want to name.

You should have stepped back. You should have said something, done something, stopped it before it went any further. But you didn’t.

You stayed exactly where you were.

And that was all it took. A mistake—an instant where your gaze flickered down, just for a second, landing on his lips before you could stop yourself.

It was small, barely noticeable. But he noticed.

Joe sucked in a sharp breath, and something in him snapped.

One second, he was frozen. The next, his hands were on you.

Gripping your waist, pulling you against him like he couldn’t take it anymore.

His lips crashed into yours, rough, desperate, stealing the breath from your lungs. There was nothing soft about it—no hesitation, no caution. It was weeks of silence, of resentment, of longing finally breaking free.

A low, almost pained sound escaped him, vibrating against your mouth, and it wrecked you.

You didn’t just let him kiss you—you kissed him back. Hard. Your fingers tangled in his hair, nails dragging slightly against his scalp as if to prove he was real, that this was real.

His grip tightened on you, hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer, closer—like he was trying to erase the space that had existed between you for so long.

The kiss was messy, frantic, full of everything that had been left unsaid. No patience. No restraint. 

And then, just as suddenly as it started, it stopped.

You both pulled away at the same time, breaths colliding, foreheads almost touching.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Joe’s hands lingered on you for a second longer, as if his body hadn’t caught up with his mind yet. Then, slowly, he let go.

Your lips tingled, your breath unsteady. And when you finally forced yourself to meet his gaze again, you saw it. The same thing you were feeling.

Shock. Relief. Inevitability.

Neither of you spoke. You didn’t have to. Because this—whatever this was—was far from over. And you both knew exactly when it would happen again.

Walking back onto set felt surreal.

The weight that had been sitting on your chest for weeks was suddenly gone, replaced by something else entirely. Something heavier, but in the best possible way.

Your lips still tingled from Joe’s kiss. Your body still hummed with the memory of his hands on you, his breath mixing with yours, the way he had needed you like he was making up for lost time.

You didn’t have to look at him to know he was feeling the exact same thing.

But when you did glance over—just for a second—there it was.

His gaze was darker now, more focused. A quiet kind of intensity that wasn’t just acting. His jaw was tight, his breathing just a little uneven.

He was still thinking about it. Thinking about you.

And fuck, that knowledge sent a thrill down your spine.

The set was already buzzing with activity, but somehow, the air felt different.

Maybe it was just you. Maybe it was just him. Or maybe… maybe everyone else could sense it too. The energy between you two had shifted, palpable in a way it hadn’t been before.

There were looks. A few whispered comments exchanged between the crew. The director eyed you both for a moment, lips pressing together as if debating whether to say something.

But he didn’t.

And honestly? You didn’t care.

The only thing that mattered was getting through this scene.

Because the sooner it was over, the sooner this day would end. And the sooner this day ended, the sooner you’d be back with Joe, pressed against him, tasting him, feeling his hands—

You took a slow breath, rolling your shoulders back as you settled into your mark. Joe did the same, standing across from you, tension coiled in every inch of his body.

Mark exhaled, glancing between you two. “Let’s run it once before we shoot. I want this to feel real.”

Silence fell over the set. And then—

You started.

For the first time in a while, the scene flowed effortlessly. There was no hesitation, no forced emotion. It was raw, real, charged with something far beyond the script.

Every word, every look, every beat of silence between you two felt like a confession. Joe’s eyes locked onto yours, and for a second, it wasn’t just the character speaking.

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

His voice was hoarse, thick with something that wasn’t entirely pretend.

Your throat tightened. The line shouldn’t have hit so hard. But it did.

“Then why did you?”

The words left your lips softer than intended, but they still cut through the air like a knife. Joe exhaled, his jaw clenching.

His fingers twitched at his side, and you swore—you swore—you saw it. That flicker of truth behind his eyes. The set faded away. The world faded away.

And it was just you and him.

Until the director finally spoke. “That was… yeah. That was it. Let’s set up for the take.”

You barely registered the movement around you. The crew adjusting lights, checking marks, preparing cameras. Because Joe was still looking at you. And you both knew exactly how this night was going to end.

-

The moment filming wrapped, you felt it.

Relief. Anticipation.

That thrumming energy beneath your skin that had been building all damn day, reaching a fever pitch the second the director called the final cut.

It was done.

You had both done what you needed to do. Played your roles. Delivered the scene with a rawness that had left even the crew silent for a beat before applause broke out.

And now—now, finally, you could go.

Or at least, that’s what you thought.

Because just as you were about to gather your things and head out, someone in the cast spoke up.

"Dinner?"

It wasn’t unusual. Long shoot days often ended with the team grabbing food together, unwinding before heading home. Normally, you wouldn’t have thought twice about it. But tonight…

Tonight, all you wanted was to get out of there. To be alone with him.

Still, before you could come up with an excuse, you heard Joe’s voice behind you.

"Yeah, sounds good."

You stiffened for half a second, barely suppressing the look you wanted to shoot him. Was he serious? After everything, after the way he had been looking at you all day, he wanted to—

Then you caught it.

The way his fingers twitched at his side. The way his voice was just a touch too even, too controlled.

He was playing the long game.

Keeping things under wraps just a little longer, keeping himself in check just a little longer. Or at least, trying to.

So you nodded, giving nothing away, even as your pulse pounded relentlessly beneath your skin.

"Yeah. Let’s go."

-

The restaurant was dimly lit, lively with conversation and laughter. Plates were passed, glasses clinked, and yet—none of it reached you.

Because he was sitting right there. Across the table. Too far to touch, but close enough that every time your eyes met, the air shifted.

It started subtle.

A glance over his wine glass. A fleeting brush of his knee beneath the table. A slow drag of his fingers along the rim of his glass—a movement you felt way too acutely.

And then, it escalated.

His hand settling against the table, fingers tapping absently. Close to yours. Too close. You could have moved away.

You didn’t.

Neither did he.

It wasn’t obvious to anyone else. To them, you were just part of the group, engaged in conversation, playing your part. But underneath it all, there was something else entirely.

A silent, electric dare.

It stretched between you with every passing second, every stolen glance, every slow, deliberate breath.

Until finally—finally—you couldn’t take it anymore.

"I think I’ll head back," you murmured, pushing your chair back.

Joe’s eyes flicked up to yours, dark, unreadable.

"I’ll walk you."

It wasn’t a question.

And you didn’t argue.

-

The walk back to the hotel stretched longer than it needed to.

Neither of you rushed. Neither of you wanted to.

The cool night air was a relief against the heat still thrumming beneath your skin, but it did nothing to quiet the tension—the kind that had been building for far too long, simmering beneath every glance, every near touch, every moment of silence.

And now, without the noise of the restaurant, without the weight of prying eyes, there was nothing left between you except this.

You talked. Not much, but enough. And for the first time in what felt like forever, it was easy.

It shouldn’t have been, not with everything between you, everything still unresolved. But somehow, in this quiet moment, it was.

Maybe because you both knew exactly where it was leading. Maybe because there was no need to say it out loud.

By the time you stepped inside the hotel, the air between you was charged.

The low hum of conversation from the lobby, the soft chime of the elevator—none of it registered. Not when Joe was walking beside you, his hands in his pockets, his jaw set like he was still trying to keep himself in check.

Not when your pulse quickened with every step down the hallway. Not when you stopped in front of your door and turned to face him.

This was it. The moment of no return.

You reached for your key card, sliding it through the lock with a steady hand, but before you pushed the door open, you hesitated.

And so did he.

For the first time since you left the restaurant, he faltered.

You saw it in the way his fingers played with his rings, the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed. He was thinking.

Maybe too much.

Maybe about what this meant, about what came next, about whether either of you would come back from it.

But then—then your eyes met his. And whatever thoughts had been holding him back crumbled.

Because you weren’t hesitating. You weren’t backing away.

You just stood there, your fingers still curled around the door handle, your breath shallow, your body waiting.

And that was all the invitation he needed.

In one slow, deliberate step, Joe closed the space between you.

You barely had time to inhale before his hand came up, fingers brushing against your jaw, tilting your face toward his—a silent question.

One you answered without hesitation.

You stepped back, into the room. And he followed. No more doubts. No more distance.

Just you.

Just him.

Just this.

[thejoequinnlibrary]

Posted each Friday at 11am EST—

Here are the writer’s that have been added to the library this week!

If you or a writer you know would like to be added, please message or send me an ask! I would love to add you! 🫶🏻

Welcome!

there are no new writers who joined the library this week

Thank you for joining the community!

[thejoequinnlibrary]

Posted each Thursday at 10am EST—

A weekly list of JQ fics that I’ve stumbled upon that deserve more attention!

I tend to read a lot of smut— therefore most of these reads will not be Minor friendly. Please head the warnings!

Also! Remember if you’d like to join the library as a JQ writer— just send me a quick message with your handle, the characters you write, and a link to your masterlist so it can be reblogged here!

Put Your Head on My Shoulder by @take-everything-you-can

18+ Minors DNI

eddie munson x fem!reader (Pumpkin)

Summary: A 1950's daydream of malt shop kisses and doo wop singles far behind closed doors. Dreamboat Eddie Munson picks up more than just an extra route. A love that makes you weak in the knees... but how long can you go on loving a man that isn't the one your married to.

The Hat Rule by @ghost-proofbaby

18+ Minors DNI

eddie munson x fem!reader

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

Please Please Please by @keeryhours

18+ Minors DNI

eddie munson x female!hopper!reader

Summary: Eddie is no stranger to the Hawkins legal system. It’s no surprise to anyone when he’s dragged in in cuffs again, but it is unexpected when someone catches his eye - the police chief’s daughter.

He Loves Me by @pollenallergie

billy knight x reader

The Request: Happy Spring! How 'booout something short and fluffy about Billiam Knight picking wildflowers for you? 🥰🌼

[thejoequinnlibrary]

Put Your Head On My Shoulder

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

A/N: This Fandom has given me the most inspiration I've had in years and this is a thank you to every single one of you. This idea spurred from one too many drinks and unhinged DMs and I'm so excited to share it with you guys. So here goes nothing lol. A special thanks to my lady loves @lesservillain , @ghost-proofbaby , @bettyfrommars , and @bimbobaggins69 for beta reading and letting me fill your inboxes with all my little thots for our little gremlin man !

P.S : BEFORE I GET INTO ANYTHING THIS STORY IS 18+ MINORS NEED TO GTFO PLEASE AND THANK YOU !!!!! Also please remember to like and reblog from your creators It keeps the fandom alive !!! ( honestly don't know what I would do without ya'll )

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader ( Pumpkin )

Summary: A 1950's daydream of malt shop kisses and doo wop singles far behind closed doors. Dreamboat Eddie Munson picks up more than just an extra route. A love that makes you weak in the knees... but how long can you go on loving a man that isn't the one your married to.

TW: Angst- mentions of an affair (adultery), verbal abuse mentions, mentions of weight ( mentions of food within the story throughout), disordered eating, feeling unloved, self deprecation slightly, staying with toxic partner Fluff- pet names, domestic bliss, mutual pining Smut- fingering, soft touches, overstimulation slightly very slight, unprotected PIV, cream pie, spanking,..... tbh i can't think of anymore but if you see any please let me know ... Thank you all so much. ( every chapter will get updated tw)

WC: 4.1K

Flour covers the countertop in your kitchen, and a rolling pin is set to the side while you knead the soft pastry ingredients together. Apples sit freshly peeled in a separate dish. Sliced and added to sugar and cinnamon. Picking up the rolling pin, you do your best to flatten the dough to a thin sheet and mold it to the glass dish before you. 

“Well, this dough is much better than the first,” you say aloud to yourself. Your husband once told you that speaking out loud to yourself was a sign of a weak mind, you never put much stock in that. But here you were doing exactly that as your days consist of waiting for your husband to return home from work. 

You splash a bit of vanilla into the apple mixture to complete your pie filling. Once it is all tucked neatly beneath the fluffy dough, you take a knife and leave four little holes within the surface and crimp the edges together, sealing the flavors within. A touch of sugar is added to the top along with an egg wash before placing the pie on a rack in the oven. A timer is set for twenty minutes, a reminder to lower the temperature and to add your special ingredient.

Soft music plays throughout the house, Billie Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald keep you company on these long lonely days. Lonely but only for such a short time. Your husband works for the state doing something he thinks you're too dumb to understand so why talk about it? If anyone ever asks you simply say ‘Oh please you think a woman wants to know such things’. That usually earns you a laugh at cocktail parties and a warm smile from your man. If you could even call him that. 

Yes, he is your man in the sense that your last names are the same and you had shared the same bed. Where is the love though? It isn’t tangible and hasn’t been for quite some time now. Your day begins and ends with a few words apart from an I love you. You served him still, acted to the prying eyes, as a doting Wife. Four years and Everyone still thought you had a perfect life. 

That dream of white picket fences and shared milkshakes. That love of never-ending kisses and satisfying sex. Everyone around you wanted all that you had. Would they still want your life if they could see past those closed doors and shut curtains? 

Would they want to spend their mornings hiding the bags under their eyes from nights of restless sleep? Would they want to have a constant monologue of the flaws seen in the mirror? Ones that your oh-so-loving husband pointed out to you time and time again. Would they want to cook and clean knowing they would never receive a thank you? No, you knew they wouldn’t. All the small things that build and grow until it becomes a monotonous routine. Walking through days as if the next would be the exact same and then doing it all again and again, Until one day something changed. 

Two months prior A knock on the door, one that started to come once a week. The company of CC & Drums Dairy was paid to bring you a gallon of milk, A necessity your husband called it. A man with long dark locks that flowed over his shoulder and curls that dipped across his forehead under his cap. Deep Brown eyes that sparkled with flecks of amber as the sun hit him just right. Dressed in white overalls to comply with his company uniform and sleek black shoes that shine just as brightly as his smile. His name tag reads Eddie in a sweet embroidered cursive. Eddie, a name that would soon become something you would never forget. 

Your timer goes off as you check the pie, squeezing a lemon over the crust for that citrus tang. Slipping the dessert back into the oven, for another half hour or so, a knock sounds through the house, sending the butterflies in your stomach in a tizzy. Eddie had arrived.

A quick task of undoing the strings to your apron and a fast fix of hair in the mirror you had hung in the hall. A hand to your abdomen as you intake a breath and let it stagger out between your lips, hesitating to open the door. The second you see him you can feel the way the tops of your cheeks heat and plump with a smile. One that matches his.

 You take a second and wonder if he knows how handsome he is. The way the small lines beside his eyes crinkle with years of use. You wonder if he knows that the instant you see him, your heart stops beating. But most of all you wonder if you're the only one those soft eyes and long lashes catch in his gaze. 

“Afternoon darling, I must say this heat wave has got to be breaking records. Ought not keep these out here too long.” as he lifts the small crate of glass bottles holding the product out.

 You knew better than to take it from him, even if every bone in your body screamed too. The last time you tried you nearly flipped the whole crate, underestimating the weight. From that day on you always stood to the side as you let Eddie into your home to set the dairy in your kitchen. It was another thing you wondered about him. Did he do this for everyone else too?

“ Well let's not keep them then sir.” standing to the side he slides past you brushing a hand across the elbow you held to the door. His way of saying hello. Small touches here and there as he could never keep his hands to himself for too long in your presence.

“ Something smells awful delicious in her ma’am.”

“An Apple pie is in the oven, maybe you’ll stay and have a slice. For your troubles of course.” 

“Mhmm, my troubles.” Eddie sat the crate on the counter next to the ice box and turned his body towards you and enveloped you in his stronghold. An intoxicating embrace as he pulled you flush to his body. 

“ I missed you, you know that pretty girl?” soft tone, almost a whisper. A small smile he couldn't see but could feel made its way to your face. 

“I bet you say that to all the girls on your route.” he lets out a small chuckle.

“Only the breathtaking ones.” a falter to your features as your mind reeled with all the possibilities.

 Does he miss Mrs.Cunningham the way he misses you? Does he miss Ms.Buckley the same? That sick green monster finds its way under your skin as you think of all the girls he must have at his beck and call. But today that monster wasn’t going to ruin the few fleeting moments you could spend with him. You needed Eddie in the most carnal of ways.

“Do you want to know what I missed? “ Your fingers trail their way from the small of his back and up over his shoulder, landing on his neck just below his ear. Cupping his face you bring it down and catch his lips as they meet yours. 

“Oh yeah? you missed me too Pumpkin?” a second crash of your lips to his, makes him hum from the back of his throat. His nose nudges yours to the left so his teeth can catch your bottom lip, pulling back slightly to hear the small whine you emit.

“I always miss you, Eddie.”  His hands travel down over your figure as he starts to ruffle the hem of your dress up. Thankful for its length to hide how wet you had become just from him being in the home you share with your spouse. A topic you and Eddie tried to steer clear of, but the wrongness of the act just felt so right. 

Over a year your husband hadn’t touched you, barely talked to you and some days you were even sure he hadn't even looked in your direction. Eddie though, In the last two months, Eddie had made you feel seen. He made you feel heard, and most of all he made you feel desired.  

As his hand finds the thin cotton that covers your cunt he glides his digits over the wet patch that had grown by just the thought of him. A deep hum and a small huff of breath from Eddie against your neck as he kissed his way to your shoulder. 

“So wet for me and I've barely even touched you. Are you that starved for affection?” The words forming in that sweet small surrender to him were all but cut off as he slid a finger through your folds and teased your entrance. A gasp was the response he got, one he loved to hear in protest every time he had you. 

“C’mon honey tell me what you want.” how could you respond to him with words if you couldn't even think of them? The man before you had spent the last few months discovering just how to make you melt in his arms.

 He knew that the spot behind your knee was his best friend for when he had you on your back. He knew the way your hips stutter when you're close to your peak, and he knew that if your eyes found that they couldn't stay open that you were in utter bliss.

 His favorite thing he had learned throughout your time together though was that even when he knew you had your doubts, you still trusted him in every sense of the word. 

After only two months Eddie knew you better than you know yourself. Better than your husband had ever cared to know you.

“ Please, Eddie.” He smiled down at you 

“ Please What Honey?” 

“ Dip in Eddie, Fuck me please.”  He could feel the slackening of your legs as his assault on your clit had made you a bit sensitive, in his focus on making you feel as good as he possibly could, in what little time he had with you. He slid two of his thick fingers into your dripping heat as his thumb stayed in a rhythm that matched his wrist as he curled in and let the sounds of his efforts echo off the small kitchen walls. 

Moaning into Eddie's ear as his finger worked in and out of you making that heat inside of you grow higher and higher. Clutching the strap of his overalls, a small pull leaning back, as the pleasure he was giving you kept climbing. 

“ Come on now baby, let go.” A final intake of air, hold on to the breath that led you to your walls squeezing eddies fingers tight. That coil snapped as you let your body fall slack against him a loud moan from the farthest depths within you found its way out of your lungs. 

When your eyes land on Eddie after your come down all you can see is that smile. The dimple-creasing smile that kept haunting your dreams at night. 

“I need more.” You didn’t know how but his smile grew even wider and more sinister as his tone began to deepen. A kiss is pressed to your lips, not urgent, understanding. 

“ You need more? Well, it's a damn good thing that what you're asking for is in stock then Pumpkin.” He turned you around to face the small table that sat in your kitchen, knowing what he wanted from you. He wasn’t the only one taking notes from your time together. 

You braced yourself against the worn wood and clutched the sides of it as you heard the familiar clinks of metal as his rings fumbled with the buckle of his belt.  

The wait, though it is small, is brutal. Anticipation makes your stomach flip and cunt flutter. A shuffle out of his overalls gives Eddie a moment to just admire the way you listen so well. These small moments have him thanking every bad decision that got him here. To this small town, with this small job, on this small route. A route he picked up as a last resort. Yeah, he doesn't know who he's praying to but whoever is listening, he's singing grace. 

A grip in the slight pudge of your hips to keep himself steady, Eddie is gentle as he slips his cock through your folds gathering your slick over his length and breaching your desire. A deep moan and a few choice words fall from Eddie as he fills you and meets the small wavering gasp you let out, a breath you didn't know you had been holding.  A whine of impatience, his sign to move. 

A soft speed turns ravenous as his dick uses your walls to curve his hooks into you deeper and deeper. A sigh of his name and you can feel the stutter in his thrust. He slows his pace if only to keep himself from having to leave your presence all too soon.  

"Fuck darling, so good to me, taking me so well like this pussy was made for me."  You mewl from beneath him, dropping your forehead to the wood that is holding you up. You fear that if it had not been here your legs would have given up the second he started talking. "Isn't that right pumpkin? Made just for me? " A sharp thrust and you know he wants an answer in the way his grip turns bruising. A trip through your mind as you try and collect the words from thin air. 

"YES! God yes, I was made just for you." 

"Such a good girl for me baby. That's right, isn't it? You're all mine aren't you?"  Another squeeze to your hip and a smack that lands hard on your ass. Eddie's palm kneads the sting as you answer him. 

" All yours, all yours, no one else, just you baby." A grunt hum from the back of his throat as he grips your shoulder and leans so his body is flush with yours. His breath is on your neck as he leans to your ear. 

"Not even your husband, just you and me baby?" 

"Just you and me Ed's" Your eyes tunnel and you see white as your orgasm rushes through you, Eddie's own a thrust away as he moans deep against your skin. His body weight and yours against the kitchen table as you both find your way down from the clouds. 

Small kisses he leaves to your spine and the back of your neck. You turn your head and he places another small one to the upturned corner of your mouth. A bell chimes and you sit for a few seconds letting Eddie gather his own bearings. A small pat to the curve of your pussy as Eddie pulls the cotton back in place. A shock to your sensitivity.

"Keep that in there baby, that way you have a part of me while I'm gone." A heat to your cheeks as the thought of Eddie's cum dripping out of you while your husband sat across from you and read the paper over dinner. A sly smirk from the man you just let defile the small space, one you would let do ungodly things to you. 

You put on oven mitts as Eddie finds a few glasses in the cabinet. You slice into the flakey crust and slip through the filling as you place the large piece on a plate for you to share. Eddie pours milk as you find some silverware, he places the bottles in your fridge so they keep.

Turning with a smile, he is the definition of adoration. In your eyes he is everything. 

Why is it that when his time with you is coming to an end you almost wish it would end as soon as possible? Almost as if you would wish he would part with some harsh words to make you not want him in the most beautiful ways. You have to make yourself believe these things before he leaves because if you don’t, it would just shatter you. So you take a different route, you don’t shatter yourself, instead, you splinter and crack all the things that hold you until you see him again. The times where he glues those little shards back in place if only for you to break them off again and again. A scared thought and a small shake of your head trying to rid yourself of it. A married woman. What would he possibly want from you other than a good lay? 

He sees that doubt within your mind as if reading it. He takes your hand in his as he laces your fingers together. 

“ Penny for your thoughts Pumpkin?” You glance finally meeting his eyes as you clear your throat. 

“ Nothing important hun.” You slide a fork to his side of the table as your eyes dart to the clock.  He squeezes your hand once more, lowering his eyes in search of yours again. 

“It is important if it bothers you.” Your heart stops. The breath you were going to take gets caught in your throat and you turn on that winning smile you had trained yourself to hold in uncomfortable circumstances. One you wish he couldn't see through.

“ It’s nothing Eds, really.” 

“Do you promise?” you take a hand and cup his cheek.

 How do you tell him that he is your first thought in the morning and the last thought before falling asleep? How instead of counting sheep you try and count the freckles on his face by sheer memory?  How could you tell him you wish you were his one and only? That you have never felt about another human soul the way you feel about his. Instead, you stuff it down, apple pie soon to follow. 

“I Promise.”  

You know he doesn’t believe you but he would rather set out to sea and die of starvation as the sharks feed from him than to make the last moments he has with you tainted with fights and tears. God when you cry it absolutely destroys him. 

The first time you had ever let him take you in his arms you had just gotten off the phone with your husband. He had heard hushed words while he waited for you to grab the weekly tip your husband left for him. Your husband had informed you that he would not be coming home, as the fight from the night before had lingered into the morning and would now follow you well into the night. The first time you had opened the door Eddie studied the angelic features of your face, and they had plagued his dreams for such a long time at this point.

When you rounded the corner with a smudge of mascara beneath your eyes, he instantly without thinking took you in, pushing your face to his chest as his hand rested on the back of your head. Slight comfort made the tears begin again as he wiped the remainder of the smudge and irritation from your face. No man had ever done something as small as comforting you before.  In the two months since he had started this route, he knew he had instantly fallen head over heels in love with you.

You had taken two bites from the plate that sat in front of you and Eddie had finished the slice. He even went as far as to slide a finger in the crumbs on the plate and lick them off in an attempt to show you how much he had enjoyed it. His time with you. 

A gathering of glasses you brought to the sink as he brought the other dishes and sat them in the deep well while wrapping his arms around your waist and you stood eyes closed relishing in the last little bit of affection he could offer to you. 

A kiss to your shoulder as you turn your head resting it on his.

“I’ll be by in a week Pumpkin.” A nod to the fact you already knew. “ Seven days.” Another nod, not risking the crumble in your voice. “ Not long at all.”  Another small kiss to your cheek as you turned into his chest and rested your forehead on his. 

“Seven days?” 

“ Seven days Pumpkin. Do you think you can wait for me? Just seven days? “

“I think I could wait a lifetime for you Eddie.” 

“I’ll see you in a week, Mrs.Carver.”

“ A week Mr.Munson.” 

A kiss to your lips and a parting gift of his very own pie before he snuck out through the back door, so as to not raise suspicion. A slow walk from the kitchen to the door and to turn a lock, on your mind. On your hope. You could do this. You could wait seven days.

Your husband comes through the door late as he had been doing for the last year or so. You had expected it from him at this point. You had started to make his dinner later and later knowing that if you had made it too early he would tell you all the ways he couldn't eat it. If it had gone too cold he would refuse and the hard work would go directly into the trash. 

He walked in as you took his dinner off the stove and placed it on a dish for him.

“Right on time doll.”

“ I don’t know how on time it is, It’s Nearly eight in the evening, Jason!”     

“ I’m not doing this with you tonight.”  

He always did this. He would come home and you would ask him where he had been, and he’d always end the conversation before it could even begin. You sat his plate in front of him as you sat across the table from him. Times where you could really take him in and see that the feelings you had once long ago were snuffed out like a flame to a candle.

“ Are you not eating dear?” 

“ I ate a bit earlier in the day.”

“Thanks for waiting .”  He rolled his eyes and you returned the gesture. 

“ I wouldn’t have had to wait if you had just picked up the phone and told me when you were going to be on your way home. I’m not waiting until we hit a new day to eat Jason I’m not going hungry just so you-”

“ Wouldn’t harm you any though would it.” 

You left the table. Your weight had started to become a key focus as he knew it bothered you more than anything else. You had gained some weight and your mother and friends had commented on it from time to time. For your husband to tho, it made you furious. You ate when you were unhappy, it was something you had done since you were a child. The only person who thought you could stand to eat a little more had been Eddie. 

It happened slowly, you would make him food now and then, and the majority of the time He would offer you a bit. It started with a bite and progressed into cutting his sandwiches in half just so you could have something to eat. Unlike your husband, Eddie had a suspicion that you weren’t eating enough. Like you weren’t giving your body what it needed to survive so he would constantly ask for you to eat with him. At least then he would know you had something of substance within your day.  

You had gone to your bedroom and gotten out of your daily’s slowly separating them into their hampers waiting to hear the stomping footsteps of Jason as he made his way to the spare bedroom. He had taken residency there about a month before Eddie came into your life and you were thankful for the times that Eddie left you yearning for more. To call out another man's name while with your significant other no matter how insignificant they were would still bring you shame like no other.

Slipping into your nightgown as Jason shuts the door to his room you wait a few minutes to take the walk back down the stairs to stand in front of the sink. Looking up at the sky through the window above the stars seem to shine brightly. You attempt to find the little dipper and look for its companion not far from where it lays, the version of a larger size. Constellations begin to blur as you let the silent tears fall. Hoping that somewhere out there in this little old town, Eddie too is looking up at the moon and wishing you were by his side as you wished upon all the stars in the sky. What a long time seven days would be.

[thejoequinnlibrary]

please please please - eddie munson

Eddie Munson x female! Hopper! reader

Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Summary:

Eddie is no stranger to the Hawkins legal system. It’s no surprise to anyone when he’s dragged in in cuffs again, but it is unexpected when someone catches his eye - the police chief’s daughter.

Warnings:

Smut (18+), p in v, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, a little bit of sub!eddie, delinquent!eddie, talk of drugs, weed use

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N:

I’ve been stuck in the worst writing slump! So glad to finally finish something I feel good about and share with you guys :)

—

You spent most days after school sitting around the Hawkins police station, working on your homework until your dad was ready to take you both home. You weren’t the biggest fan of sitting in the empty house alone, and waiting for him here beat having to walk home since you still didn’t have a car.

You sat at an empty desk, chin in your hand as you tapped the pencil against your paper. The gentle chatter of the station filled your ears. You were bored, tired of fighting with your math homework, wishing you could be off with your friends instead of here.

The sound of the door opening abruptly caught your attention, your eyes moving to the source of the noise. Officer Callahan came in, leading a man in cuffs. A man - as if you ever could have mistaken Eddie Munson. The ‘Freak’ of Hawkins High. With his tall, lanky build, his mess of curly hair, and his metalhead attire, he was hard to miss.

Your dad stepped out of his office, a hand running over his mustache with a sigh. “What are you doing in my station again, Munson? Didn’t you and I have a good talk?”

“Just missed ya so much, Hop,” Eddie quipped back with a grin, looking much too cheerful for his current predicament.

“Caught him trespassing at the old factory,” Officer Callahan supplied, holding onto Eddie by the back of his jacket.

“Drugs?” Jim Hopper asked.

“Just half a joint,” Callahan answered.

Hopper let out another deep sigh. “I’m trying to work with you here, Eddie. This is your fifth arrest this school year alone. Believe it or not, I don’t want to see you ending up behind bars for years of your life.”

Eddie shook his head with a grin, curls bouncing wildly. “I hear ya, Hop. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Evidently I do,” Hopper muttered. “How about this? You can spend the night here with us tonight, and you can think about whether that’s how you want to spend your life.” He claps Eddie on the shoulder hard before he’s turning to walk back into his office.

Officer Callahan leads Eddie through the station, Eddie smiling at the other officers as they pass like they’re on a first name basis, which they probably are. When his eyes meet yours, his grin grows even wider. He has a beautiful smile, which is something you’re just now noticing for the first time. He’s really hot in general, you realize. Only when your heart starts beating out of your chest at his attention. He shoots you a flirty wink as he passes, and then Callahan is roughly taking him back to the cells.

You think about Eddie for the rest of the day. Even when your dad comes out, pulling on his coat and says it’s time to head home. Even when you’re riding home in the passenger seat of the police vehicle, Hopper trying to make conversation about your day. When you sit down and eat dinner together. And especially as you’re laying in bed in the silence of the night.

You’re leaving school 2 days later, walking through the parking lot with your backpack slung over your shoulder when you’re stopped by a voice.

“Hey, Hopper!”

You turned at the sound, eyebrows raising at the sight of Eddie Munson walking towards you. “Weird to say that name and not be talking about your dad,” Eddie laughed when he reached you, a hand running through his curls.

You looked at him, confused why he was talking to you in the first place. “Uh, can I help you?”

Eddie gave you that big smile, bowing his head to you. “I was hoping you might do me the honors of spending the afternoon with me.”

You looked at him skeptically. “Me? Why?”

“Why not?” Eddie laughed, and you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful of a smile he had again. “You seem cool. I want to get to know you better.”

That was how you found yourself in the back of Eddie Munson’s van, watching his long fingers rolling up a joint. Some kind of metal blasted from the car’s speakers, some band you definitely weren’t familiar with. Your stomach was in knots as you watched him deftly roll the paper.

“Are you sure this is okay?” you asked as Eddie finished up, realizing you’d run out of time to stall.

“‘Course it’s okay,” Eddie laughed, running his tongue along the paper. You watched intently as his long tongue poked out to trail along the seam of the joint. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“My dad…”

Eddie waved you off before you even finished your sentence. “Hop’s never gonna know. Calm down.” He produced a lighter from his pocket and handed you both with a flourish. “M’lady.”

You took them from him cautiously, as if they might explode in your hand. You looked over the foreign object. You were pretty sure you knew which side to light.

Your inspection was interrupted by Eddie’s chuckling. “You really haven’t done this before, huh?”

Your eyes met his and you blushed, casting your gaze downwards. “No. I’ve never smoked anything.”

“Ooh, a good girl,” Eddie teased, reaching forward to pluck the joint from your fingers. “I’ll get it started for you, baby.”

Your cheeks heated even more at the pet name, but you watched as Eddie placed the joint between his lips (you were correct about which side gets lit, at least) and flicked the lighter, bringing it to his face. The flame caught evenly, burning perfectly as Eddie breathed in a long drag. Once he’d taken two big puffs, he handed it back to you.

You took it from him with shaking hands. You brought it to your lips and breathed in just like you’d watched Eddie do - only to feel like your throat was on fire and start coughing your lungs out.

Eddie laughed hard, reaching to grab you a bottle of water. “It’s okay. Just try again. You don’t have to take a huge hit.”

Once your coughing fit had ended and you’d wiped the tears off your face, gratefully accepting the water bottle and taking a big sip, you worked up the courage to try again. You breathed in slower this time, following the instructions Eddie was giving you. This time you were able to get the smoke into your lungs and hold it there, letting it out in a shaking breath before you started coughing again.

“Atta girl!” Eddie praised, taking the joint back from you and bringing it back to his own mouth. “You’re a natural. Knew you’d like it.”

It didn’t take long before you began to feel it. The music sounded so good you just had to sway along, and everything Eddie said was so funny. Time felt like it moved in slow motion and life looked like you were watching a movie.

“Enjoying yourself?” Eddie asked, making himself nice and comfortable in the back of the van. His long legs were spread out before him, crossed at the ankles while his hands rested intertwined on his stomach.

You nodded, a dopey smile on your face. “Yeah, I’m…having a great time,” you said before falling into a fit of giggles.

Eddie laughed along with you. “Yeah, looks like it.” He looked you over, like he was admiring every part of your body. “I knew I could get you to loosen up.”

His music sounded heavenly in your ears now. You were so warm and cozy, you could have stayed here all night. You spent most of the night there with Eddie, just talking and laughing about any and everything. You realized it had been a long time since you’d laughed so hard and felt so free.

Eddie drove you home, thankfully early enough that you beat your dad there. Your head still felt fuzzy but you weren’t as blasted as you had been.

“Thanks,” you said shyly as you climbed out of the van. “For the ride home and the, uh…weed.”

Eddie gave you that huge grin again. “Any time, sweetheart.”

You spent yet another night with your thoughts full of Eddie. He was actually a cool person. But you knew your dad would never approve of that friendship, or what you had been up to tonight.

Hopper came home with pizzas in hand. You were relieved, since you’d had the munchies for hours and the snacks you and Eddie had devoured in the back of the van had long since worn off. He looked at you suspiciously when you laughed far too hard at his cheesy dad jokes, but didn’t question you.

You and Eddie were fast friends after that. Spending just about every day after school together, getting high, exploring abandoned buildings you weren’t supposed to be at, sitting in on Corroded Coffin band practice and Hellfire Club meetings. You had become near inseparable, something that was strange to his friends when he first brought you around, but now you were like a package deal. Where Eddie went, you were sure to follow, and vice versa.

Eddie continued having his run-ins with the Hawkins police, including your father. It seemed he was just incapable of staying out of trouble. He got bored, and once that boredom hit, he was sure to be off doing something stupid to entertain himself, no matter how you put your foot down or begged him not to.

You could hardly even be surprised when you were home one night and Hopper walked in, looking pissed as hell and grumbling under his breath as he slid off his jacket.

“What’s wrong?” you asked him, brows furrowed. You hadn’t seen him come home this worked up very often.

Hopper turned towards you, eyes softening as he took in his daughter’s face, not wanting to take his frustration out on you. He sighed again. “It’s that Munson kid. Caught him doing a deal and he ran. Had to put a warrant out for him.”

You shouldn’t have been surprised, but your mouth nearly dropped. You reined it in, however, since your dad isn’t even supposed to know you know Eddie at all. “Wow,” is all you can think to offer.

Hopper began heading towards his bedroom to shower and change before dinner. “I have tried and tried to help that boy,” he muttered, seemingly only to himself. “But he just doesn’t want the damn help.”

Eddie was on your mind as usual that night, but this time it was worry. You tossed and turned in bed once you laid down. What kind of trouble had he gotten himself into this time?

Ping. Ping.

The sound of something hitting your window jolted your attention in that direction. Sure enough, the sound came again, accompanied by a pebble smacking against the glass.

You climbed out of bed in your pajamas, feeling nervous as you approached the window. You pushed it open, leaning your head outside.

“Eddie?”

Sure enough, the metalhead stood beneath your window, looking more disheveled than usual. He gave you a big smile. “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair…”

You rolled your eyes. “What the fuck are you doing here?” you hissed, trying to keep your voice as low as possible. Because really, how dumb is he to show up to the police chief’s house when there’s a warrant out for his arrest?

“Needed to see you,” Eddie said simply with a shrug of his shoulders. “C’mon.”

“Where are we going?” you asked, eyebrows raised high.

“Does it matter?” Eddie smiled.

You debated on it. You knew this was a terrible idea. But hell, it was more fun than being in your room alone. You held up a finger telling him to give you a minute before you slipped back into the room and threw on a pair of jeans and an oversized hoodie over the t-shirt you were sleeping in. Socks and sneakers on your feet and then you were climbing out your window for the first time ever, falling to the ground safely with Eddie’s assistance. His hands lingered on your hips once you were on the ground, causing a blush to rise to your cheeks.

Eddie had parked his van around the block. The two of you walked together in mostly silence, not wanting to draw attention to yourselves. Once you were safely in the van it felt like you could breathe again. Eddie cranked his music up, and took off.

“Are we fugitives now?” you teased, nighttime breeze blowing through the open window and whipping your hair around your face.

“Just me,” Eddie laughed. You laughed too, even though nothing about the situation was funny, really.

Eddie pulled the van to a stop on a back road, a spot hidden from prying eyes. “I thought we could sit here and just hang out,” Eddie explained as he saw you taking in your surroundings. “Maybe smoke a little, listen to music, whatever you want.”

That’s how you ended up in the back of the van again, a common hangout for the two of you. A joint shared between you and good music playing through the car’s speakers, you were both feeling amazing. You sat next to him, leaned against his shoulder as you enjoyed each other’s company.

“I always thought you were so pretty, you know.”

The words caught you so off guard you suspected you’d imagined them. But you turn to Eddie and he’s looking right at you, like he’s waiting for you to say something. Like he’s nervous.

“Y-you did?” is all you’re able to respond.

Eddie smiled softly. “Yeah, of course.” His hand comes up to cup your cheek gently. “I still do. You are pretty. The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Your skin felt like it was on fire. You knew you had to be red as a tomato right now, and you hoped the dim lighting in the van was enough to hide it from Eddie’s searching eyes. You knew you needed to say something, but you couldn’t make the words come out of your mouth.

Eddie brushed a piece of hair behind your ear. He was looking at you so intensely now, it made your heart beat out of your chest. He calls your name, and it sounds more beautiful on his tongue than you’ve ever heard it.

“I like you,” he said, looking right into your eyes. “I really like you. You’re the coolest girl I’ve ever met. And you’re hot, funny, smart. The whole package.”

You couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of Eddie’s mouth, and you were pretty sure the weed was making your brain work in slow motion. But he wasn’t laughing at his own joke, or saying he didn’t mean it. He was looking into your eyes, waiting for you to say something, anything, back.

“I…” you began, quickly realizing your throat was extremely dry. Eddie handed you a water bottle with a chuckle, and you took it gratefully. Once the water had soothed your throat (and given you a second to stall), you had enough courage to turn back to him. “I…I like you, too.”

Eddie’s face lit up at your words. “Yeah? You do?”

He was so cute, like an excited puppy. It was so easy to forget that this guy saw the police station as a second home and had a warrant out for his arrest that very moment. You briefly wondered if being here with him put yourself in any legal trouble, but you also didn’t really care. “Yeah. I really do.”

Eddie’s hand remained on your cheek, thumb rubbing softly over your skin. He brought his other hand to your other cheek, and then he was pulling you in. Your heart nearly stopped in your chest as you let him pull you until his lips were on yours.

Kissing Eddie felt more natural than you ever could have thought. It felt like you had always been doing this, his lips so familiar to you it was like you knew exactly what to do to drive him wild. Or maybe that was just the effect you had on him.

Eddie’s hands began to wander as you kissed him back deeply, leaving your face to trail up your thigh and to your hips, rubbing your sides over your hoodie.

He reached for the hem of your hoodie and quickly pulled it over your head. You were left in the thin pajama shirt, no bra underneath. You prayed he couldn’t see your nipples through your shirt, but with the way he was staring, you suspected he could.

“So hot,” Eddie moaned, his large hands reaching out to grasp your breasts over your shirt. Chills spread through your body as his fingers trailed over your hard nipples, and he moaned again. He groped at your tits for a while until he couldn’t take it anymore and pulled your shirt over your head, hands going straight back to your now-bare breasts. He leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around one of your nipples, his fingers still working the other.

The sensation caught you off guard and you gasped, a hand involuntarily shooting up to grab ahold of Eddie’s curls and accidentally pulling, which made him groan against your skin. Moans spilled from your mouth as he ran his tongue over your nipple, circling around it before puckering his lips around it and sucking. You arched your back into his mouth, wanting more, more of this feeling Eddie was providing that was making you feel like you had died and gone to heaven.

Eddie switched sides, wrapping his hot mouth against your other nipple as he attended to the other with his fingers, rubbing and pinching. The wetness left on your now exposed nipple made the cool air even more noticable against the sensitive bud. Your head leaned back against the wall of the van as Eddie worshiped your tits, his jeans growing uncomfortably tight. He palmed himself, desperate for some relief on his aching cock.

He pulled off your nipple with a pop and moved back to your lips, tongue immediately pushing into your mouth and licking everywhere he could reach, kissing you hungrily, filthily. You were both moaning into each other’s mouths, tongues tangled together, trading heavy breaths between you. You could feel your clit throbbing, you couldn’t remember the last time you had been so turned on.

“I’m so hard for you,” Eddie moaned against you, biting down on your bottom lip harshly. You let out a mix between a gasp and a moan, making Eddie chuckle darkly.

“Can I…feel?” you asked, feeling shy.

Eddie groaned at the question, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. “God, baby, you don’t even have to ask.”

Nervous, you reached over towards the bulge in his jeans. It looked intimidating enough from here. The second your palm pressed against it Eddie let out a desperate sounding groan, pushing his hips up against your hand even harder. You could feel that he was absolutely rock hard. It surprised you how hard he was, and you briefly thought he had to be uncomfortable trapped in there. He had too many clothes on, anyway.

You tugged on his shirt, wanting it out of the way. Eddie smirked at you, picking up the hint immediately as he shrugged his leather jacket off his shoulders before pulling his t-shirt over his head. You took in his bare chest in front of you, the pale skin now exposed to you. You rubbed your fingers over his belly and chest, feeling every part of him you could reach. Eddie just let you, head leaning back against the wall as he enjoyed your touch.

“Feels good, baby,” he breathed, eyes closed. He looked so pretty like this, you thought.

You trailed your hands lower, down to the bit of hair leading beneath his jeans. Eddie’s eyes shot open to look at you when your fingertips brushed there. Your hand moved lower, rubbing over his hard on over his jeans again, earning another delicious groan from his lips.

“You seem uncomfortable in here…” you said teasingly as you rubbed him.

He looked up at you, the expression in his eyes nearly pained. “Yeah…I am,” he said, voice quiet and gruff.

“I could help you with that…” you said, giving him a squeeze that dragged an even more delicious sound from him. “If you want me to.”

“Yes, god yes, please,” Eddie begged, sounding as desperate as he felt. “Please touch me, baby.”

You hadn’t realized you would like the sound of him begging, but you absolutely do. Your hands moved to his belt, working open his buckle. Eddie watched you work, big brown eyes focused on your lithe hands undoing his belt before moving to the button and zipper of his jeans.

“Wait-“ Eddie said, causing you to halt your movements immediately and look up at him, concerned. He smiled at you sheepishly. “Can you take yours off first? Wanna enjoy the view.”

You rolled your eyes at the dopey grin on his face, but obliged. You gave him a little show as you wiggled your hips, pushing the denim down your body until you kicked it away. Eddie’s eyes never left you once.

Left in only your panties now, you moved back to Eddie, fingers hooking onto the waistband of his jeans. He lifted his hips off the ground as you pulled them down for him. He was left in nothing but his boxers, your eyes immediately drawn to the very, very large tent in them.

“You look like you need some attention,” you teased.

It took everything in Eddie to resist wrapping his own hand around his cock, pulsing and aching and neglected, but he wanted you to be the one to touch him. “Yeah, uh…could definitely use some,” Eddie said, his cheeks flushing pink. Cute.

You watched him as you leaned forward, licking against the tip of his cock over his boxers.

Eddie shuddered, a shaky groan leaving his lips. “Don’t tease me sweetheart, please,” he begged. You could see his dick twitch beneath the material.

As much fun as you were having, you decided to take mercy on him. Eddie lifted his hips again for you to pull his boxers down, his girth slapping against his abdomen. Your eyes widened at it - long, hard, and needy. Tip red and leaking, cock twitching as he looked at you looking at him.

You wrapped a hand around his base, drawing a hiss from Eddie. You started stroking him slowly, thumb running over his tip and smearing his precum along his length. Eddie groaned, resisting the urge to buck his hips up for more. “God, baby,” he moaned, head thrown back and eyes closed.

“Feel good?” you asked him, eyes darting between your hand moving along his beautiful cock, and his beautiful face, contorted in pleasure.

“Fuck yeah,” he moaned, eyes opening to look into your face. “Faster, sweetheart, please.”

You sped up your movements, jerking him faster. You reached your free hand down to grasp his balls, making Eddie whimper. “Fuck, please, your mouth, babe…”

You didn’t think you could deny anything he asked of you right now. You got yourself comfortable on your knees in front of him before leaning forward and wrapping your lips around his tip. Swirling your tongue around the head, flicking over the slit and tasting him. Eddie’s hand shot up to grab your hair, his thighs trembling beneath your hands. You sunk your head down his length, determined to take as much of him as possible. You gagged about halfway down, already feeling like you were taking so much.

“You can take it, sweetheart,” Eddie said, his voice strained and fist shaking against the back of your head. “You can take all of me. Open that pretty mouth nice and wide for me.”

You moaned around him at his dirty words, and Eddie couldn’t help the way his hips bucked up into your mouth. “Shit! Sorry!” Eddie exclaimed as you came off him quickly, gagging and coughing.

“It’s okay,” you said, wiping the tears from your face once you were breathing normally again. You wrapped your lips around him again and sunk down, opening your jaw as wide as you could. Tears started falling again once you had taken almost all of him, and you nearly gave up, if not for the sinful noises Eddie was making as you took him deeper and deeper. When you finally felt your nose pressed against the brown curls at his base, you felt accomplished. You hummed around him, pleased with your work.

Eddie, however, was hanging on by a thread.

“Shit, shit!” he hissed, fist clenched in your hair and whole body shaking at the feeling of his entire cock buried down your throat. He knew you probably couldn’t breathe, so he only held you there for a few glorious seconds before he let go, resting his hand on your head instead of forcing it.

You began to bob your head up and down, taking as much of him as you could every time. Eddie moaned wantonly above you, fingers brushing through your hair affectionately as you gave him the best head of his life. “God, baby, that’s…fucking incredible, shit…”

You pop off of his cock and move down to lick at his balls, sucking them into your mouth which makes Eddie’s moans go higher. You take his length back in your mouth and suck him messily, saliva dripping down onto his thighs. Neither of you cared. It caught you by surprise when Eddie pulled on your hair, pulling you off of him entirely. You looked at him confused.

“I was about to bust down your throat, babe,” Eddie laughed, completely breathless. “And I wanna fuck that cute little pussy first.”

Eddie pushed you against the floor of the van as he crawled over you, long curls reaching down to tickle your face. You giggled, which Eddie loved, and he dipped his head, shaking it to tickle you with his hair even more.

He dipped his head lower to press kisses to your neck. He started slow, placing kisses across the skin, before he started nipping at your pulse point, biting and sucking the sensitive spot. The feeling drove you crazy, and you arched into him, turning your head to give him full access. Eddie absolutely devoured your skin, moaning as he left dark love bites to remember him by.

His hand slipped beneath the hem of your panties, fingers tracing through your glistening folds. “So wet for me…” Eddie mumbled against your ear, sending chills through your body. He held his hand up to show your wetness covering his long fingers, before sticking them in his mouth and sucking them clean with a groan. “And so sweet.”

Eddie was on his knees between your legs before you even realized what was happening, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your panties as he slowly began to peel them off your body and down your smooth legs.

He placed his hands on your knees and spread your legs apart, eyes drinking in your pussy spread out before him, all for him. “God…” he muttered to himself, and his cock kicked up with anticipation.

“Want you, Eddie,” you begged him, as he was taking far too long just to stare. You couldn’t really blame him, though, as your eyes lingered on his body a little too long, too.

Eddie smirked at you. “Yeah? Want my cock, sweetheart?” he teased, leaning forward to trail his lips along your jaw.

“Please,” you begged him, pushing your hips up against him, his cock sliding against your slick folds. Eddie groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as he rocked his hips against you more.

“You ready for me, baby?” he asked, lifting your legs around his waist and rubbing his cockhead against your throbbing clit, lining himself up at your entrance. “‘Cause I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”

“Please, please,” you begged again, writhing beneath him, so desperate to feel Eddie inside you. You felt your pussy clenching around nothing, your mind running with thoughts of what it will feel like to have all of him.

Eddie needed no further encouragement. He began to push in, groaning as he sunk into you inch by inch. The stretch was intense but also incredible. You could feel every ridge and vein of his cock. You grabbed onto his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin as he stretched you more and more with every thick inch. Your brow was furrowed, eyes closed tight as he finally bottomed out, keeping himself still despite his every instinct to absolutely ruin you.

“You okay, baby?” Eddie asked, eyes intently on your face. You opened your eyes, letting out a shaky exhale. The pain was starting to fade as you got used to his girth.

“I’m okay,” you assured him. “You can move.”

He pulled his hips back, slowly drawing out of you. Despite the pain you had felt, being empty was worse. You wanted nothing more than for him to fill you again. Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long.

Eddie set a steady pace, thrusting into you slowly yet powerfully. You couldn’t help but moan with every thrust, each push inside of you pressing right up against something that felt absolutely incredible. Your body trembled beneath him as Eddie leaned over you, rolling his hips into yours again and again.

“Shit, you’re so tight, baby,” Eddie muttered against your cheek as he pressed deep inside you, causing you to cry out at the intense pressure against your bundle of nerves. “Taking me so well. You’re so good for me.”

You moaned at his praise, wanting to be a good girl for him. “Faster, Eddie, please,” you whined.

With the permission he’d been waiting for, Eddie sped up his hips, fucking into you harder and faster. The van was rocking, windows fogged up, the obscene sound of your skin slapping together and loud, uninhibited moans filling the space and tuning out the music.

Eddie buried his face in your neck, loud whines coming from his pretty lips. You never imagined he could make the noises he was currently making, and it made your clit throb even harder, your pussy clenching tightly around his length.

“So good baby, perfect little cunt,” Eddie rasped out, sounding like he was utterly lost in the feeling of you. He began to babble, mind lost to the pleasure. “That’s my good girl, taking my fat cock like that. Letting me spread her wide and take what’s mine. Filthy little slut, all for me, fuck, so fucking tight and wet, pussy’s perfect.”

All you could do was hold onto his strong shoulders, desperate for some sort of lifeline as he fucked you stupid. Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head as he began to move even faster, hips snapping into you brutally now as Eddie sets a relentless pace. Desperate moans spilled from your lips uncontrollably. Eddie’s free hand gripped onto your thigh tightly as he rutted into you, his other arm holding all his weight above you.

“So…so good, Eddie, feels so good, you’re so deep, s’big, can’t take it…” you find yourself rambling without a single coherent thought in your brain.

“You can take it, sweetheart, you are taking it, taking me so good,” Eddie encouraged. He bit down on your shoulder, and you cried out, squeezing around him. You felt something building deep inside you, growing rapidly with every move of Eddie’s hips.

“Eddie…’m close…” you whined, and he moaned against your neck.

“Pretty girl, my girl. I want you to come all over my cock,” Eddie begged, hips pistoning into you at a rapid pace. He let go of your thigh and moved his free hand between your bodies instead, pressing down on your swollen clit and rubbing circles against it. “Wanna feel you make a mess all over me.”

The moans leaving your lips were so whiny, desperate sounding and loud, you hardly even recognized them as coming from you. You didn’t even know you were making noises at all. Eddie shoved you right off the edge, and your release hit hard. You tightened your legs around his waist as you arched beneath him, hips bucking up to meet his movements as you moaned his name over and over again. Eddie pressed his lips onto yours hard, swallowing your moans as he licked into your mouth again, his own moans growing in intensity now.

“Fuck…shit, sweetheart, ‘m gonna cum, ‘m almost there, keep squeezing me just like that, Christ,” Eddie babbled as his thrusts turned quicker, frantic and sloppy with no rhythm as he desperately chased his release. He pumped into you roughly a couple more times before he stilled with a cry, painting your walls with his seed deep inside. He pumped his hips slowly through the last of his orgasm, making sure you got every last drop.

Your bodies were wrapped around one another as you came down from your highs, both trembling and trying to catch your breath. Once Eddie had composed himself enough he began placing kisses all over your neck, up to your cheek until he eventually reached your lips, where he placed a sweet, lingering kiss.

Eddie rolled off of you, not bothering to go farther than the floor of the van next to you. He reached for his cigarettes and pulled one out, placing it between his lips and lighting it. The smoke filled the van, and you scrunched up your nose at the smell.

“That was fucking incredible,” Eddie laughed, breaking the silence. You couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“Yeah. It was.”

Eddie draws circles onto the skin of your belly with his free hand as he drags on his cigarette. “Maybe…you should be my girl.”

Your gaze shot to his face, your eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie smiled, brushing some of your sweaty hair out of your face. “You’re the coolest girl I’ve ever met. I love spending time with you.” A smirk grew across his face. “Perfect pussy, too.”

You smacked him on the arm, making Eddie laugh. “You’re such a perv.”

“I just can’t help myself around you.” Eddie looked at you like you were the best thing he’d ever seen in his life. A revelation. A goddess.

You sighed, noticing the time on the van’s radio. “Shit. I probably need to get back home before dad realizes I’m gone.”

Eddie sighed heavily, too, as he finished his cigarette and stubbed it out. “Yeah. I’ll drive you back.” He didn’t want to see the night end, but he knew you were right. He began to pull his clothes back on as you did the same.

The whole ride home, you thought about Eddie. Not just the incredible night you’d shared, or that he’s your boyfriend now, but thoughts of the warrant creep back into your mind, interrupting the happier thoughts. “What’s going to happen?”

You didn’t have to explain what you were referring to. “I’ll, uh, have to do some time,” he said, like the only thing he was sorry about was that it was hurting you. “I’m sorry, baby.”

You nodded, feeling like tears were going to spill from your eyes at any moment. You had just found this amazing, beautiful thing that made you so happy, and now it was going to be taken away. Locked away.

Eddie reached over and held your hand in his. He gave it a comforting squeeze. “It won’t be long though, promise. You’ll wait for me on the outside, yeah?” he asked, teasing grin on his face.

You mustered up a smile in return. “‘Course I will. I’ll wait as long as it takes for you.”

Eddie smiled at that, bringing your hand to his mouth to place a kiss on the back of your knuckles. “I don’t deserve you.”

He stopped the van a safe distance from your house again. After a goodbye kiss that turned into an accidental makeout session, Eddie walked you back to your window.

“Such a gentleman,” you tease as you prepare to sneak back into your bedroom.

Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist. “Always.” He kissed you again, and just like every time he’s kissed you, you melt right into it. It could have turned into another makeout session if it wasn’t for your dad’s bedroom light turning on, snapping you back to reality.

“Be safe, Eddie,” you told him, kissing him one last time.

“Don’t worry about me, princess,” he said. He lifted you up to help you reach the window easier and you climbed back inside, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

You turned back to the window when you stood. Eddie gave you a wink, smirk on his face, before he turned and disappeared back into the darkness.

That night as you laid in bed you could still feel him all over you. Tingles all over your body everywhere he touched. You would never be the same, you felt.

Eddie Munson was going to be the death of you.

[thejoequinnlibrary]

Happy Spring! How 'booout something short and fluffy about Billiam Knight picking wildflowers for you? 🥰🌼

ahahsbdbsbsndj this is the dream come true!! also umm so he’s not picking flowers for you???or well, he doesn’t start out picking them for you… i hope that’s ok!!! 💖💖 also i know you said something short… but i love this man too much to get him anything less than 1k words. enjoy!!!

He Loves Me

CW: Just fluff. Billy mentions making love to you (uses those exact words) once, but it doesn’t get any more suggestive than that.

Word Count: 1.9k

18+ only!!

“He loves me,” you pluck off a small petal from the delicate flower in your hands, a tiny little sweet violet that you’d plucked from the forest floor, “he loves me not.”

From just a few metres away, where he’s camped out near a small brook, crouching down by the flowing water as his eyes attentively scan the small patch of land in front of him in search of his beloved Forget-Me-Nots, the tips of Billy’s ears flush a bright cherry red as he catches wind of the words you utter to yourself. He temporarily halts his flower search as he straightens up, rising from his stooped position by the flowing water, now looking around the wooded area in search of you.

Once his eyes finally land on you, Billy’s breath hitches as he takes in the lovely sight of you, bathed in the rays of sunlight that leak through the forest’s overstory, looking positively radiant as you deftly meander around the forest floor, careful not to crush any of the flourishing fauna beneath your feet as you walk. He knew you’d look beautiful here, otherworldly even. Granted, Billy thinks you look beautiful anywhere you go, but there’s something about seeing you like this, at home in nature, that seems to highlight your elegance more so than the gloomy city ever could.

That’s one of the main reasons he brought you here, to this serene timberland, a stunning nature trail near Woolstone that his late mother used to bring him to when he was a young boy. One of the other reasons, of course, was that Billy wanted to collect some freshly bloomed wildflowers that he could press and add to the multimedia piece he’s been working on in his spare time. The final reason was that the doom and gloom of the fading winter season had been getting to you two, and he knew that heralding in the first weekend of spring with a picnic in the peaceful English countryside would be the perfect thing to liven both your spirits again.

The picnic portion of your day trip ended long ago, the two of you making quick work of the cucumber sandwiches, sea salt crisps, and orange slices you’d packed to eat. Then, you both began simply wandering along the trail, looking for the perfect flowers to complete Billy’s artwork. The two of you had started your meanderings with hands clasped together as you walked side-by-side, relishing the continued closeness. However, you’d soon split up, wandering off a little ways away from each other to search for different kinds of flowers; he’d wandered over to the babbling brook to look for his beloved Forget-Me-Nots and pileworts, while you’d kept more towards the greenery, searching for windflowers and sweet violets, as well as any stray snowdrops leftover from the harsh winter months. And now, well… Now, you’re both a bit distracted, halting your initial flower searching; you’re distracted by the innocent little game you’ve begun playing, and Billy’s distracted by you. Your beauty, your grace, your soft, sweet happiness, it captivates Billy, it enchants him, beguiles him to the point where he finds it difficult to focus on anything but you. Although, that’s not necessarily a unique occurrence, Billy often finds himself distracted by you and, adorably, even merely by the thought of you.

This time, though, he’s pulled out of his enchantment by the sound of you uttering the horrible words, “He loves me not,” as you pluck the final petal from your flower, dropping it and letting it fall to the ground as you breathe out a wistful sigh.

Oh, no, that simply won’t do, Billy decides as he reluctantly refocuses his energy on searching for flowers, crouching back down near the bank of the stream to get a better look. Billy makes quick work of gently snatching up a divine little pilewort before rising to stand once again and jogging over to you so that he can hand it to you.

“Here,” he murmurs, capturing your attention as he holds the dainty little yellow flower out to you.

You sport an adorably delighted expression as you huff out a surprised chuckle.

“What’s this for? You’re not going to make me carry all the flowers, are you?” You ask bemusedly as you accept the flower from Billy.

He grins bashfully, his cheeks going rosy with blush, as he shakes his head and replies, “No, no. I just- You should keep going.”

You crinkle your nose as you flash him a confused expression, “Keep going?”

“Erm, you- you should- you know- erm- the thing with the petals,” Billy stutters bashfully before abandoning his attempt at a verbal explanation and, instead, simply miming plucking the petals off of a flower. You catch on pretty quickly and giggle at the implication.

“Well, alright,” you respond softly, bemusedly, before plucking off a delicate little yellow petal from the flower he’d given you and following it up by murmuring, “He loves me.”

Billy watches intently as you gradually rid the flower of its pretty petals until, finally, you end up with another green stalk and petal-less peduncle. Unfortunately, you again end on the words, “He loves me not,” so Billy immediately springs into action. He rushes back over to the brook to grab a cluster of Forget-Me-Nots, opting for grabbing multiple flowers this time with the hopes that it will increase the odds of you getting a happier ending. He then rushes back over to you and thrusts the bundle of flowers towards you, practically forcing them into your hands as he silently urges you to continue. You chuckle at his adorably peculiar behaviour but oblige him nonetheless, resuming your petal-plucking.

Once again, Billy watches intently as you continue with your childish game, gnawing anxiously on his lower lip as if the sanctity of his future relies on this silly little game, and, to him, it sort of does. So, imagine his disappointment when you once again end on, “He loves me not.”

Of course, Billy can’t have that, won’t have that, so he rushes back to the brook to collect even more flowers, grabbing as many as he can possibly carry before hastily bringing them back to you.

“Billy,” you exclaim humorously, “you’re gonna pick all the new pretty flowers at this rate! All the plants’ patience this past winter, as they waited and waited for the weather to warm up so they could finally prosper, will have been for naught!”

“It’ll be alright, dove, just keep going,” he urges you, flashing you as encouraging of a smile as he can muster, though the feeling of his heart dreadfully sinking to the pit of his stomach hampers his ability to maintain the happy expression.

This is incredibly important to Billy; that much has become evident by now thanks to his odd behaviour, but you can’t for the life of you figure out why that is. Rather than questioning, you simply decide to indulge him as you once again begin plucking the delicate little petals off of all the flowers. Meanwhile, Billy waits with bated breath, nervously picking at the skin around his nails and shifting from foot to foot as he watches you.

As you begin to pluck the petals of the last in-tact flower in your grasp, Billy feels his heart lurch up into his throat, acting as a lump that he struggles to swallow around. This time around, your utterance of the words, “He loves me not,” aligned with you plucking the first petal of the flower. However, in your past attempts, you’d always had to start with, “He loves me.” Perhaps this change is not all that significant, but it gives Billy a bit of hope that maybe this time, you’ll finally end on the right note. Although, that thought in and of itself fills him with even more anxiety because, if his hopes do come to fruition, that means he’ll have to confess something to you, something that he’s not sure you’ll react favourably to.

Suddenly, the moment Billy’s been waiting anxiously for finally comes to pass. In your grasp, you’ve got a tiny little Forget-Me-Not with only two petals left on it. As you go to pluck one of those petals off, Billy feels as if he may vomit, or pass out, or both, or worse.

“He loves me not,” you breathe out quickly as you pluck the second to last petal. You both know what comes next, but only one of you seems to recognise the significance behind it.

“He loves me,” you murmur as you pluck the final petal, releasing it from your hold almost as soon as you’ve removed it from the flower, making it slowly fall to the forest floor, the tiny blue floral tissue fluttering in the wind as it sinks down, down, down. Before you can comment on this novel ending to your little game, Billy surges forward, capturing your lips in a warm embrace with his own. You let out a surprised squeak at the suddenness of the kiss before swiftly melting into it, dropping all the stems once clutched in your hands as you wrap your arms round Billy, tangling your fingers in the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

All too soon, he’s breaking the kiss, offering one last peck to satiate you before pulling away just slightly. He rests his forehead against yours with his eyes still closed as he tentatively whispers, “He does love you, you know?”

You had no memory of closing your eyes, too wrapped up in his sweet kiss to notice, but soon you find yourself opening them again to fix him with a curious look.

He can’t possibly mean…

Your thoughts are swiftly interrupted by the sound of Billy exhaling a shaky breath. He suddenly opens his eyes, his gaze meeting your own, filling your line of sight with the image of his lovely brown eyes.

“I love you,” he confesses softly, nervously.

The most radiant smile Billy’s ever seen soon takes shape on your features, seemingly lighting up the whole world around you, though that joy is only meant for him. You can feel the raw emotion clawing up through your throat and stinging your eyes, making tears well up as you softly, genuinely reply, “I love you too, Billy.”

The breath of relief he sighs is genuine, as is the beaming smile he flashes you just before he leans in to kiss you again. This kiss is much deeper and more passionate than the last, though it’s just as sweet.

When you finally part, Billy giggles and says, “Give me a few minutes to grab some more flowers, and then we can leave.”

You look at him with an expression that is both quizzical and fond as you reply, “Why would we leave?”

“Love, why would we stay? ‘S not like I can make love to you here; people come ‘ere with their kids,” Billy replies as though it’s obvious. The chuff you let out in response to that is equal parts shocked and amused.

“Just give me five minutes, petal,” he calls out to you as he begins to jog back to the brook nearby, “and maybe grab me a couple of sweet violets while you wait! Oh, and some snowdrops if you can find any!”

Your heart warms at the sound of the new pet name he’s given you whilst you chuckle at his antics, shaking your head with a sickeningly fond smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you look down and resume your search for flowers. That’s your man, your bashful Billygoat, and he loves you.

[thejoequinnlibrary]

Here’s where I will link the lists for every week of recs for your convenience!

Thank you all so much for making this blog what it’s becoming! 🫶🏻

As always, if it’s 18+ Minors DNI—

March 20, 2025 (mostly Eddie recs)

March 27, 2025 (no recs!)

April 3, 2025

[thejoequinnlibrary]

Posted each Friday at 11am EST—

Here are the writer’s that have been added to the library this week!

If you or a writer you know would like to be added, please message or send me an ask! I would love to add you! 🫶🏻

(ps. i’m so sorry for no recs this week! and that this post was so late tonight! i’ve been a little too busy to read! they’ll be back as scheduled next week 🫶🏻)

Welcome!

@songforeddiemunson @icallhimjoey @filthyjoetini @eddies-puppet @whatsupsonnyboy

Thank you for joining the community!

[thejoequinnlibrary]

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.

[thejoequinnlibrary]

Hi there! My name is Jace and welcome to my master list!

Here I will post links to all my work!

Below are the characters I write for:

JQ: Michael (Hoard), Tom Grant, Eddie Munson, Emperor Geta, Eric (AQPDO), Johnny Storm

Fred Hechinger: Daniel Markowitz, Emperor Caracalla, Simon Kalivoda, Quinn Mossbacher, Jason Hochberg (AHOAS)

Stranger Things characters

And others, just ask. My requests are almost always open! Feel free to flood the ask box!

JOSEPH QUINN CHARACTER MASTERLIST

FRED HECHINGER CHARACTERS MASTERLIST

CORRODED COFFIN MASTERLIST

STRANGER THINGS MASTERLIST

[thejoequinnlibrary]

MASTERLIST

Joseph Quinn

SERIES

ONE SHOTS 

blurbs

Andrew Garfield

Andy comforts you during your period 

                                     you may want to check about me ;)

[thejoequinnlibrary]

ᴛᴀʀᴀ ✰ ꜱʜᴇ/ ʜᴇʀ ✰ ᴡᴇʟʟ ᴏᴠᴇʀ 18, ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴏʙᴀʙʟʏ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴏʟᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ✰ ᴇᴅɪᴛᴏʀ, ꜰᴀɴꜰɪᴄ ᴇɴᴛʜᴜꜱɪᴀꜱᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴄᴄᴀꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʀ ✰ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ ꜰᴀɴ ɢɪʀʟ

♡ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ♡

ɪ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴊᴏꜱᴇᴘʜ Qᴜɪɴɴ, ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ ᴍᴜɴꜱᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘᴇɴᴄᴇʀ ʀᴇɪᴅ.

ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙʟᴏɢ ɪꜱ ꜱᴛʀɪᴄᴛʟʏ 18+. ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅɴɪ.

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ✰ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ✰ ꜰɪᴄ ʀᴇᴄꜱ ✰ ꜰᴀᴠᴏᴜʀɪᴛᴇ ʙʟᴏɢꜱ ✰ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴘʀᴏɢʀᴇꜱꜱ

ʀᴇᴄᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ

ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ - ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ - ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴀ ᴄʀᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴅᴀʏ, ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ.

ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴏɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘʟᴀᴛꜰᴏʀᴍ. ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀɪ ꜱʏꜱᴛᴇᴍꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴋɪɴᴅ.

ᴄᴏᴘʏʀɪɢʜᴛ @ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇꜱ-ᴘᴜᴘᴘᴇᴛ

✰ ꜱᴇᴘᴀʀᴀᴛᴏʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴜᴘᴘᴏʀᴛ ʙᴀɴɴᴇʀꜱ ʙʏ @ꜱᴀʀᴀᴅɪᴋᴀ-ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ ✰

✰ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴇʀꜱ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ✰