#joeseph quinn x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lewisyellowhelmet · 2 years

Text

summer storm

summary: eddie munson x reader

You got caught in a summer storm, you may as well wait in Eddie’s trailer while you wait for it to pass. (6k+)

content: virgin!eddie, smut, cheating (but its ok #girlboss), weed, general pining, confusion, eddie charm, p/v sex, fingering etc all that yummy stuff, praise kink if you squint

It’s the kind of violent summer storm that makes you think the apocalypse is incoming. Preceded by violet, rolling clouds in the sky, and the kind of humidity that makes you feel like you’re constantly in a warm bath. The wind is vicious, hitting the walls of Eddie’s trailers with a thrilling intensity, rain slashing against the windowpanes. You sit, fidgety, on the very edge of the worn couch, sneakered feet turned in on each other. The plastic bag of weed is already buried in the bottom of your backpack, your money in the pocket of Eddie’s jeans, but the rain had come before you could make your routine exit. You cringe for your poor bicycle, leant up against the porch outside, getting soaked through. It’ll rust if you leave it too long.

“I can drive you home,” Eddie had offered, but you thought of your mother in the kitchen, smoking a cigarette and watching through the blinds as you manoeuvred your bike out of Eddie’s van, blinking in the rain, calling out thank you’s back to him. She’d never let you leave the house again. So. Here you are. Sat on Eddie Munson’s couch, waiting for the storm to pass. You’re winding a stray thread from your jean shorts around the tip of your finger, watching it go purple and throb before you unwrap it, feel the pulse of escaping blood.

Eddie is crouched in front of the television, rifling through VHS cases, mumbling to himself. You feel like an observer, someone not meant to be in the scene with him, witnessing something private. Usually, you do your deals after school, and even if you do bike out here you only ever see a brief glimpse of the inside of the trailer, just enough to swap pot for money, say thank you, and retreat back out into the bright daylight to ride back to town. You’ve never been in his presence for so long, had a conversation longer than a few brief sentences. And now he’s searching for a movie to watch together, something not too scary, as you’d requested, even though he’d rolled his eyes. You bite back on a smile, imagining the conversation with Nancy tomorrow as you rolled blunt’s of Eddie’s weed on her back step, drizzle coming down but safe under the porch. You did what, she would say, round, shocked eyes, at his house? And you’d smile and say, he wasn’t that scary, actually.

“Ah ha!” Eddie says, rising up and spinning to show you the video in his big hands. His chunky rings clink together. Labyrinth. You grin.

“I love David Bowie,” you say, laugh at him pretending to gag. But he puts it on, punches buttons on the television until it flickers onto static and then the reeling play menu. Eddie backpedals to the couch beside you, collapsing in a crumpled mess of long limbs and hair. All the energy seems to go out of him, like a deflated balloon. It’s strange seeing him still. He’s usually so active, parading around the cafeteria, causing a ruckus in the back of English Lit, but here, in his own space, he seems almost peaceful.

“Have you seen this before?” He asks, and you nod, allowing yourself to finally shift more comfortably on the couch so you can lean into the back, pulling a cushion into your lap for something to do with your hands.

“Yeah, in the cinema.”

“With your boyfriend? Hot date.”

You swallow over a dry mouth, “Something like that.”

You wonder what your boyfriend is doing now. They were supposed to be running laps today for basketball training. Have they been rained out? Retreated to the gymnasium to listen to the rain drip through the tin roof? Or maybe he’s with that Junior, under the bleachers where you’d caught them last week. You feel suddenly ill at the thought, and slouch further into the couch. You should break up with him, but the energy required of such a task seems supernova like. Everything feels like too much effort these days, as you careen towards graduation and college and adulthood. May as well play out the facade for a few more months. You turn to Eddie before you start thinking about it too much.

“Did you wanna smoke?” You ask. He turns his head towards you before he drags his eyes from the television set, but when they land on you it feels suddenly blinding. His full attention, surveying you on his couch. Deciding whether you’re a good enough weed partner or not. His mouth crooks into a sideways smile. You don’t know why you suddenly need his approval so badly.

“Sure, if you wanna,” Eddie says, a lazy way about his words that make you feel judged. Has he decided you’re cool enough? Or not, a disappointment. The feeling clangs in your belly. You go to dig in your bag for the weed he’d just sold you, but he bats your hand out of it, levering himself off the couch.

“Don’t be silly, I’ll get my stuff, it’s better anyway,” he says, and you frown at his receding figure. You were under the impression he had given you the good stuff. Nancy certainly never complained, and her boyfriend was an aficionado at pot. In the movie, Jennifer Connelly is arguing with David Bowie about her missing brother, as he rolls the crystal globe menacingly in his hands. Somehow, the outside rain seems to increase in intensity, thundering down on the tin roof. It’s soothing, being inside and warm while the weather storms. The light is cosy in here, just a lamp in the corner and the television set. The place smells like smoke and coffee, the scent of clean rain just beginning to edge in. Somehow the trailer is exactly how you expected it to be. Cluttered, obviously occupied by single men, but homely. A collection of bric-a-brac mugs. A rug on the floor. There’s an amp pushed into a corner.

“Here,” Eddie announces, and to your surprise plops down at your feet, the supplies he’d gathered spread out on the floor. You pretend to watch the movie while he carefully puts together a blunt, packing it neatly. You look away when he lifts it to his mouth, pink tongue flickering over the edge to seal it. The sound of his lighter, the crackling paper, and then the sweet, sticky smell of weed. Eddie passes it to you, and you don’t think about how his mouth was just where yours was as you take a drag. You want him to see how you don’t cough, how you’re good at this, but when you look down at him he’s watching the movie, fiddling with the lighter in his hand. You pass the blunt back to him.

“Thanks,” he says, absentmindedly, like he’d forgotten you were there at all. Even more, you feel like an intruder. Now you’re smoking his weed, too. Insisted on a movie he clearly doesn’t like. Awkwardness clogs your throat, but the high brings a soft edge to it, not so immediate.

“Do you think I could pull off those pants?” Eddie says, breaking the smokey silence. David Bowie and his package are taking up the screen. The weed makes you laugh easier.

“Maybe if you straightened your hair,” you say, take the blunt he’s passing back. Eddie frowns and ruffles his hand through his mop.

“What, and lose all this? Curls get the girls, ya know,” he says, and throws a smirk over his shoulder. You feel it again, the blinding power of his attention on you. You want to say something funny back, something to make him laugh, but the weed is clouding your brain. Instead, you suck in another hit, let it sit in your lungs for too long.

You alternate between watching the movie and watching him. He’s stayed seated on the floor, one knee pulled up, the other leg stretched out languidly in front of him. It’s strangely endearing, seeing him in his socks, heavy boots lost somewhere. Your whole body feels heavy and fluid, like you’re sinking into the pillowed depths of the couch, but you’re not that fussed about it. The rain is soothing. At some point, Eddie shifts, and you find his shoulder is against your leg, a steady pressure. You imagine your boyfriend finding you like this, slumped in the couch, your leg against the side of Eddie’s body, smoking a blunt right down to the ash. Eddie is flicking his lighter on and off, and you watch with hazy eyes as the flame appears and disappears at his will.

“Are you thirsty?” He asks, eventually, somewhere in the last act of the film, and you nod, eyes heavy. He laughs at you, rumbling.

“You okay?”

You nod again, blinking up to where he’s leaning over you, half amused, half worried.

“Yeah, it’s just… Nance and I, we don’t usually smoke that much at once.”

“Oh, shit,” Eddie says, standing up. Seated in the couch like this, looking up at him, he seems very tall, his shoulders broad against the ceiling. The rain pounds down. You wonder if it will break through, flood the trailer, leaving you swimming around his kitchen.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think,” he apologises, “Let me get you something to drink.”

You listen to him in the kitchen, clinking glass, the open and close of the refrigerator. You’re not greened out, you know how that feels (Jason Carver’s basement, Sophomore year), you’re just very high, floating away. And this couch is so comfortable, and the rain is so nice. Your leg is cold where Eddie’s body was. You reach to rub warmth back into it.

This time, he sits back on the couch with you, waiting for you to wrap both hands around the glass of lemonade, ice blocks floating at the top.��

“Thanks,” you remember to say, smiling at him over the rim of the glass, small, sweet sips.

“You’re very welcome,” Eddie says, rubbing one eye. The room has a smokey haze, now you think about it, all the windows closed against the rain. The air is warm and close in a dreamy way. The movie is about to end, Jennifer Connolly has her brother in her arms. The lemonade clears your head so you don’t feel so much like you’re about to melt into nothingness. Eddie is watching you carefully, and you try to act normal, movements robotic.

“Still with me?” He asks, as the credits roll. You’re sucking on an ice block, rolling it around behind your teeth.

“Yeah,” you say around the ice, “still with you.”

“Good,” he says, gets up to turn the television over to a live channel. There’s an I Dream of Jeanie episode playing. You notice it blearily, feeling Eddie take the empty glass back from you.

“I can’t go home like this,” you say to yourself, noticing how you’ve half collapsed into the corner of the couch, head propped up by pillows and the arm. One of your legs is tucked up into the crook of your body.

“That would be a bad idea, I think,” Eddie agrees, his head coming into view above you.

“What time is it?”

“Just past 9. But. It’s still storming.”

You close your eyes to think. You feel sleepy in a comforting way, the haunting insomnia of senior year far away. You know you shouldn’t be here, but you feel relaxed like you haven’t in a long time. Sat on this couch with him. Really, you’ve known Eddie your whole life, orbiting each other in a small town. It makes sense, somehow, that you’d end up here together, trapped by weather. But maybe that’s just the weed.

“Can I use your phone?” You ask. Damage control time.

“Yeah, of course. Look, you know. You can stay here, if you want. I can sleep on the couch.”

You open your eyes to blink up at Eddie, who’s rubbing his hand across his chest, not meeting your gaze, looking at the pillow you’re still holding.

“Are you sure? It’s just. The rain. And the weed.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Besides, if you get in trouble, I’ll get in trouble,” Eddie says. Something hot and urgent flares in your chest. You sit up, ignoring the head spin.

“I wouldn’t tell,” you say, grabbing his wrist so he looks at you, “You know that, right? If I got caught, I would never say you’d sold it to me.”

Eddie is doing his lazy smile, just one side of his mouth. Something is shining in his eyes though.

“You really know how to get a guy all mushy,” he says, “Not ratting me out, now that’s romance.”

You grin back at him, the word romance getting stuck in your chest. You realise you’re still holding his wrist, fingers flexing before you let go. Eddie clears his throat.

“I’m gonna shower, you can use the phone or whatever,” he gestures to it on the wall near the kitchen, “What’s mine is yours, mi casa et tu casa, etc cetera and all that.”

“Thank you,” you say to his receding figure, take a second to gather yourself before you stumble up and to the phone, plugging in your home number. You listen to the shower turn on as you explain to your mother you’ve got stuck at Nancy’s, that you’ll be home in time for Church in the morning. You definitely do not think about Eddie undressing in the room over, standing under the shower, the water streaming over his naked body. What would he look like? You’ve seen the tattoos on his arms, but does he have more, hidden under clothing? Does he face up into the water stream? Does he use conditioner? Your mother says something about homework and you blink the image away.

You wander into the bedroom after soothing your mother’s concerns, find it how you expected, messy and boyish. Clothes on the floor, posters haphazard on the walls, various drug paraphernalia. A guitar slung over the mirror. A dog eared copy of Lord of the Rings on the bedside table. The bed is unmade, and you tug the doona back into place before you sit down, mentally committing the room to memory. It feels strangely important, knowing everything about this space. It shouldn’t feel like this, really. You shouldn’t need to know every part of him. But everything is obscured by the rain, so nothing is real. This is a moment outside of time. Just for you, in his most private of spaces.

“Oh,” Eddie says, finding you in his room, just a towel around his waist. His hair is roughly dried and dripping down his chest.

“Sorry,” you say, standing up, a blush high on your cheeks. Caught.

“No, I just uh - Didn’t expect you in here,” he says. You drag your eyes off his chest, trying to track all the tattoos, the images he’s chosen to have on his body forever. His body isn’t what you expected. What did you expect? He’s all lean muscle, a boy almost grown into the figure of a man.

“I won’t look,” you say, cover your eyes, smile when he laughs.

“Alright, eyes shut,” Eddie says, and you stand resolutely still, listen to him move around the room, the rustle of fabric. You imagine him dropping the towel, naked in the room with you, choosing what clothes you’ll see him in next. At one point, you feel his hands around your shoulders, moving you off to one side.

“Sorry, just, here,” he says, and you hide your stumble when he lets go, listen to the dresser draws open behind where you just were.

“Sorry,” you whisper, not sure where he is in conjunction to you.

“It’s okay,” he whispers back, right by your ear. Your stomach drops out.

“Can I open my eyes now?” You ask, ignoring the crack in your voice. Hoping he does, too.

“Almost,” he says, and you listen to his footsteps come closer, then, “Okay, now you can.”

You blink against the light of the room. He’s changed into soft looking sweatpants, an oversized Metallica shirt with a hole in the collar. His hair is still damp around his shoulders, spreading wet.

“Everything okay with Mommy and Daddy?” Eddie teases, sitting down in a rickety chair by the cluttered desk. You return to the edge of the bed.

“No. But, yeah.”

Eddie nods wisely, like he understands everything. Maybe he does.

“I gather you didn’t tell them where you were,” he says, picking at a seam of wood.

“God, no. I said I was at Nancy’s.”

He seems to consider his next words, then, “What would they say, if they knew you were here?”

You cross your ankles over, hands either side of yourself, curled into the bedspread. Your eyes are itchy from the smoke.

“Maybe they’d send the cops, I don’t know. Something bad.”

Eddie huffs a laugh, rocks back in the chair precariously, “Probably with good reason. Who knows what satanic Eddie is gonna do to their precious little daughter.”

You blink. Swallow. “What. What is he gonna do?”

Eddie looks at you, and his eyes are heavy and dark, then the smile splits his face and he’s laughing, “God, your face. Nothing, oh sweet princess, nothing. You’re safe with the big bad wolf.”

“Are you saying I’m little Red Riding Hood? Because I’m not a ginger, I won’t stand for that,” you protest, and he grins at you.

“Darling, I wouldn’t dare.”

“Good,” you say, chin jutted.

“Now,” Eddie says, claps his hands together as he stands up. The sound breaks the moment, whatever it was, the movement of him. “Did you want clothes to wear to bed?”

You stand up with him, body still slow with weed, “yeah, please.”

You change in the bathroom. The bathroom mirror is still steamed from his shower, and you can smell the apple body wash he’s used. It feels weirdly intimate, occupying the same space he just did to clean himself. You’re methodical about changing, folding up your shorts and t-shirt, into a Dio shirt that swallows you and a soft pair of his boxers. These are the clothes he’s chosen for you, he thought about you when he pulled them out. The fabric is well-worn and comforting on your skin. You blink at yourself in the mirror. Tracking back through memory. Why are you here? Still? Why is everything shaded quiet and warm, here, with him. Circling each other for so long, gravity pulling each other closer and closer until you’re here, hiding from a storm, settled with Eddie to watch it pass. You take a deep breath.

When you emerge, sneakers in hand, clothes held against your chest, you find Eddie on his bed, strumming at his guitar. The chord breaks as he looks up at you, quiet smile.

“All good? God, that’s huge on you,” he laughs, “you look like a ghost. But a metal ghost.”

“Thanks,” you say, making a little pile of your stuff by the door, “Because that’s the kinda ghost I wanna be.”

Eddie plays quietly as you flit around the room, picking up things and putting them down again. Intrigued by what he’s chosen to keep close around him. The shower has cleared your head, although the remnants of the high shade everything hazy and dim. Eventually, you get brave enough to climb into bed. The rain is louder in here, three walls exposed to the weather. Eddie doesn’t look as you settle, just keeps playing. You watch the muscles in his back move.

“Alright,” he says, eventually, standing up, returning the guitar to its place, “Goodnight. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

You’re half asleep, sat up in the bed but with heavy eyes, soothed by the rain and his playing, bleary as you realise he’s leaving, retreating to the couch. You want to say stay so you don’t let yourself open your mouth, watching him take a blanket from the end of the bed, turn the light off, then the shape of his body in the dark and the quiet close of the door. Then here you are. Alone in Eddie Munson’s bedroom. In his t-shirt. Expected to sleep. Leave in the morning like this is normal. Suddenly sleep feels very far away, staring up at the ceiling, eyes kaleidoscoping against the blackness. Somehow the rain seems louder in the dark. You hear the sound of the television being turned down, the heavy sounds of his body on the couch. Is he comfy? He’s tall, he won’t be able to stretch out very well. You roll over, pressing your face into the pillow. The sheets smell like him, boy musk, weed and smoke and deodorant. Or is it the clothes he’s given you? You’re in layers of Eddie, his smell is yours now. The shadows of his furniture loom, the wind rattles against the trailer. You think of how he said big bad wolf, the words in his mouth, the way he’d leered at you. It was a joke, but, it made something warm and sticky turn over in your belly. You imagine you can hear him in the lounge, breathing, yawning, turning over. Is he thinking about you? In his bed? Imagining he can hear you breathing?

The courage hits you like a train, and you let yourself get carried away. For once, you don’t think about the decision, just throw off the doona, bare feet on the carpet, move from memory to the door, feel the knob cool and smooth under your palm.

The hallway is dark, and you keep one hand trailing along the wall as you tread into the lounge. You hear him stir, for real this time, the rustle of his hair, the movement as he props himself up on one elbow. The light from the television illuminates him. His chest is bare, his hair messy.

“Are you okay?” He asks, concern on his face. It makes your heart hurt.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. It’s just.”

Your eyes flick to the television, back to him, clasp and unclasp your hands.

“You don’t have to sleep out here. It can’t be comfy. It does’t. It doesn’t bother me if we sleep in the same bed. I feel bad,” it comes out all in a rush, more than you meant. Maybe you are still high.

“Don’t feel bad,” Eddie says, still craned around to look at you, a spectre in the hallway.

“I know, but I do. Please. I won’t sleep thinking about it.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Eddie says, sitting up, but he seems wary, brow creased.

“Only if you don’t mind, like, sleeping in bed with me,” you say, winding the hem of his shirt around your hand and back again.

“Why would I mind?” He seems genuinely confused by the idea, head tilted. “Do you snore?”

You laugh, “No, but I talk in my sleep.”

“Great,” he stands up, goes to turn the television off before he comes towards you in the hall, “I wonder what secrets you’ll spill.”

“It’s just gibberish,” you tell him, watching him step around you, the closeness of him, before following him back into the bedroom. His movements are easy, familiar, the routine of going to his own bed. You feel clumsy as you crawl up beside him, take the wall side. The mattress creaks and dips as you settle. It takes you a moment to realise you’re facing each other, gleaming eyes in the dark.

“Hey,” Eddie says, teasing, a smile.

“Hey,” you reply, poke his shin with your foot.

“Jesus, your feet are cold,” he cries out, overdramatic, but you laugh anyway.

You hate sleeping with your boyfriend, never let him stay over if he sneaks in, it feels suffocating, having another human in the bed with you, wriggling and breathing. But Eddie’s presence is soothing, the heavy weight of him beside you, the musky smell of him, the quiet rumble of his voice as he tells you your feet belong in Antarctica.

“Are you sleepy?” You ask, after a long quiet moment. His eyes are closed, long clumps of eyelashes, but he says, “Not really. Are you?”

You could sleep for eons here, under the rain, the steady sound of his breath, knowing you can reach out and touch him if you want, but you say, “Not really.”

“Hmmm,” Eddie hums, eyes still closed but mouth crooked into a smile, “Dilemma.”

“Yeah,” you breathe. The wind has died, finally, and it’s just the patter of rain on the roof, less punishing. You could ride home in this, now, just be damp on arrival. But you don’t get up.

“Eddie,” you murmur, gazing at him, the shape of him in the dark, the lines of his face. As familiar as your childhood, as unknown as adulthood.

“Yeah?” He mumbles, eyelashes fluttering and then his eyes open, wide and brown and warm.

His mouth is soft when you kiss him, the rustle of your face across the pillow to meet him, a chaste press of lips, a drawn out moment before he turns his head, his big palm sliding over your face, opens his mouth to kiss you properly.

He doesn’t kiss like your boyfriend, all punishing tongue that isn’t even that nice, really. He’s slow about it, measured, kisses you like they do in movies, lingering. For a long time there’s nothing but the rustle of the covers as you try and crawl into his chest, panting into his mouth as Eddie kisses you and kisses you and kisses you. He makes quiet sounds every now and then, his hands grabbing at you under the blankets, smoothing over your skin, calloused and rough. A man’s hands. You touch under his shirt, the muscle of his back, imagining the tattoos under your fingertips. He groans when you tug on his hair, and you smile into his mouth.

He’s careful not to to touch you. His hands on your ribcage, but no higher, no lower. You try and encourage, a leg over his waist, kissing open mouthed down his neck and listen to his cut off breath, but his hands stay on the curve of your waist, rubbing warm patterns.

“Eddie,” you say, finally, lips swollen, heart pounding, “You can touch me, if you want.”

He’s panting, chest moving quick under your hands. You can feel him against you, the hard line of him in his sweats, pressed into your belly.

“Are you sure?”

His sweetness is almost sore, your fingers skittering over his cheekbone to brush the hair out of his face.

“Yeah of course,” you say.

“Okay, just. Okay. Tell me if. If I do something you don’t like,” he says, his voice rough.

“Yeah,” you murmur, nudging your nose into his chin, wanting desperately to just be kissing him again, “I will.”

It’s only when his hand is finally, finally, up and over your breast, fingers brushing over your nipple, that you realise no one’s ever told you that before, ever checked. You pull him in tighter.

It feels like he’s a step behind in the dance, but it doesn’t feel disjointed, it just means you get the pleasure of seeing his reaction to every movement you make. When you sit up over him to take your shirt off, his eyes are wide and he makes this quiet, hurt sound, teeth sliding over his lower lip as he hands come up to to touch your tits, massage over them.

“That’s so nice,” you say, dropping your head down close to his, mouth over his jaw.

“You’re so pretty,” Eddie says, his voice by your ear, hot breath. You rock down onto him and he moans, his hands sliding down to your hips, up to your face, back to your boobs, like he can’t decide where he wants to touch you the most.

“Do you have a condom?” You whisper, and for a moment the interaction is shocking, in a bell clanging kind of way. Sat on top of Eddie Munson, in his bed, in his boxers, asking if he wants to fuck you. But then he smiles up at you in this dopey kind of way, like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen, and it’s like the camera clicks over, and the picture is again soft and close and warm.

“Is that. Is that what you wanna do?” He asks, as if he’s not grinding you down onto him like he’ll die if there’s no friction.

You laugh, the words so sweet in his mouth, glide your hands over his chest, his shoulders, bring yourself low over him so your tits drag over his skin and you can kiss him again.

“Yeah, that’s what I want,” you say into his mouth, can feel the way his cock jerks against you.

“Okay, yeah, just let me. Hang on,” he says, doesn’t let go even as you slide off him, like he can’t bear it, still kissing you as he gets out of bed. You kick out of his boxers under the covers, watch him rifle through various draws, before he produces a battered box, shakes out a foil packet.

“Is this alright?” He asks, mattress dipping as he returns. You frown.

“Yeah, I mean, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“Right,” Eddie says, crawling over you, the condom in his hand. His mouth on your breast, warm and wet, and you tangle fingers into his hair, holding him there. He’s attentive, learns quickly what makes you gasp and twitch, does it over and over again until you feel like you might die. He groans when he realises you’ve lost his underwear, bare underneath him, his hand hot and big slipping over you. You want to be embarrassed about how ready you are, can feel the way his fingers slip over you that you’re too wet, but he’s been so hard it must hurt for awhile now.

“Eddie,” you say, when he’s out of his sweats and you can feel the heavy weight of his cock on your cunt, “Please.”

“Yeah. I. Yeah,” he says, sitting back on his knees, opening the condom packet. His hands are shaking. You reach out, close your own around his trembling ones.

“Eddie, it’s okay. You’ve done this before, right?”

He huffs a laugh, shoulders sinking, “I. Yeah. I. No, I haven’t. But I want too, I really want too, if you just tell me what’s good I can. I’ll try and last, I - ”

He’s talking too much, untethered, unmoored. He looks silver in the light of the moon coming through the window, broad chest, the mess of his hair. Since when was the moon out? You drag him down to kiss him so he stops talking and think, the rain has stopped. The storm has passed. And Eddie Munson is a virgin.

“We don’t have too,” you say, hands sliding down his body, back up into his hair. Can’t stop touching his hair.

“I want too,” he’s insistent, panicky almost. He’s hot and hard against your hip, absent rocks for pressure.

“I just. I want it to be good for you,” he says, doesn’t make eye contact.

“It will be,” you say, and realise you’re not lying. It will be because it’s him, and his hands are so careful on you, his kiss so wanting.

“I’ll help you,” you whisper, touching his swollen mouth with the pad of your finger, “I’ll teach you, we can stop whenever you want, it doesn’t matter, just tell me if you wanna stop.”

“I don’t think I’ll wanna stop,” he laughs, breathless. You smile at him.

“Have you, like, done hand stuff before?” You ask, words awkward, but Eddie rolls his eyes, shakes his hair out of his face.

“Yes, ma’am, I’ve done hand stuff.”

“Alright, just checking!” You protest, wriggle your body under him, “Work your magic.”

“My magic?” He crooks an eyebrow, kisses the very tip of your nose, “My magic, she says.”

Then, his hand between your legs, his body to the side of you, hot and long, his mouth on your shoulder, your neck, your cheek. You think it will be like it is with your boyfriend, the only experience you really have to go on, two fingers pushing into you, perfunctory, just opening you up so he can get into you as quickly as possible. But Eddie is slow, sucks on his fingers before he touches you, so it’s slick skin and easy. He whispers to you, his mouth moving over your skin, as he rubs your clit, steady, slides down just to prod at your entrance before he withdraws, teasing, making you clench around nothing.

“That’s good, huh,” he murmurs, “That feels good? You’re so hot, oh my god, look at you.”

You’re so knocked out by it that you can’t do much but pant into his mouth, grip his wrist, move his hand where you want it. And he’s pliant, lets you manoeuvre him, kisses the air out of your mouth. Then one finger, sliding into where you’re hot and wet, not enough but so good, already pressing on a spot that no one but you has ever found.

“Eddie,” you whisper, half a sob, wanting more, fucking yourself onto his hand.

“Yeah, baby? Whatever you want, whatever you want,” he’s saying, and your heart thumps like a bullet, wanting to make him say baby again.

“More,” you get out, flush when he laughs, but he dutifully slides another finger into you, curls them in.

“Is that good?” He asks, and you groan, pressing into his body, sweaty and hot.

“So good,” you gasp.

Already, you want him desperately, your body searching for more of him, all of him, but the next part will be easier if you’ve already come, so you curl into his body, kiss him and breathe him in until you’re whispering, “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, right there.”

“There?” He checks, and you can hear his hand moving inside you, slick and hot, his other hand rubbing steady circles on your clit.

“Yes,” you pant, head pushed back into the pillow, eyes screwed shut, “Yes, there, there, God.”

“Just Eddie is fine,” he says, breathless laugh, and you come like that, laughing at him, clenching around his hand between your legs.

He stays very still beside you, his fingers still in you, kissing gently on your shoulder until you can breathe properly again.

“Oh, hey,” you say, peeling open your eyes. He grins. He seems to be vibrating with energy, eager.

“Hey, you,” he says. You whine when he takes his hand away, wiping it on the sheets. Such a boy.

“You ready for the big show?” You ask, reaching for him between your bodies. He sucks in a breath when your hand closes around him.

“Take it away,” he says, his voice thin and wavering, eyes slipping shut.

“You have the condom still?” You ask, and he fumbles around in the sheets for a moment before he produces it, triumphant.

“It’s probably easiest if you’re on top,” you tell him, rolling onto your back, legs spread. Eddie nods, moving over you, sat back to roll the condom onto himself. Your hands move out without thinking, he’s hot and achingly hard, bending forward into your touch.

“Jesus,” he whispers.

“Nope, just me,” you say, grinning at getting him back. He flips you off. Your heart jumps with sudden fondness.

“Okay, come here,” you murmur, reaching for him, suddenly craving his return, the warmth of his body, the heavy, reassuring weight of him. You kiss him, wet and messy, before you reach down, guide him in to nudge against your opening. He’s breathing hard and quick, fists curled into the sheet.

“Whenever you’re ready,” you murmur, blinking open eyes to see his face. His jaw is slack, his brow furrowed with concentration, a needy glaze to his expression. You try to exude calmness and confidence in him, and not the shaking, urgent want to have him inside you, like, yesterday.

The push is slow, and he’s thick, opening you up where his fingers didn’t. The sound he makes is delicious as he slides into you, a relieved groan that goes right to your spine. The breath punches out of him as he sinks home.

“Good?” You whisper, voice hoarse from the way he feels, the stretch of him.

“So good,” he breathes, his lips moving over yours.

“Everything you dreamed of?”

“And more,” he teases.

You can feel him trembling, the urgency of his breathing.

“You can move, Eddie,” you murmur, shifting to wrap your legs around him.

“Yeah, I’m just,” he laughs at himself, drops his chin, “Just concentrating on something here.”

“Oh. Sorry. Yeah. Do that. But, it’s okay. I already came so, whenever is fine.”

“I don’t wanna end it too soon,” he says, and you push the hair behind his ears, kiss him. Can’t speak over the thickness in your throat. Want him so bad it hurts.

He takes some deep breaths, then pushes himself up onto his arms, withdraws, fucks back into you. The rhythm is off, at first, but he’s a quick learner, and you murmur, slower, then, faster, until he’s got it just right, panting, his chest glistening with sweat, and his necklace skipping over your collarbone as he fucks you.

“Eddie,” you gasp, fingers tight around his biceps, gazing up at him, “Eddie, Eddie, s’good, it’s so good.”

“Yeah? Like that? That’s how you wanna be fucked?” His voice is rough and instinctual and you feel like you’re going to explode.

“Yes, yes, God, yes.”

Eddie pants and groans and you vaguely notice the bed thumping into the wall but you can’t care about anything but him and how he feels.

“Fuck, sorry, I’m gonna. I’m close. Fuck,” he says, his voice thready.

“It’s okay, I want it, I wanna see,” you tell him, hands in his hair. There’s suddenly nothing you want more than seeing Eddie come. Fuck college acceptance. Fuck parental approval. Fuck everything. Just Eddie. He’s all that matters.

“Jesus, fuck,” he says, fucks into you once, twice, messily, and then a whole shudder goes through him and he groans out your name, twitching inside you as he comes. You pant and gaze up at him, enamoured. He collapses into your body, like all the strength has suddenly gone out of him.

“Oh my god,” he says into your neck. You laugh, tracing fingers down his spine, feeling him pant.

“Good?”

“So fucking good.”

“I’m glad,” you murmur, and you are. This is something you can hold forever, in a safe spot behind your lungs, that you took Eddie Munson’s virginity. That it will always be you. He’ll always remember you.

“Are you good?” He asks, and you smooth his fringe back to kiss his forehead.

“I’m good.”

It’s nice, having him lie on you, an anchoring weight, sweat drying tacky on your skin. The storm has passed, and outside you can hear the crickets beginning to start up, emerging from the ground to tell tales of the appalling weather to their brethren. You think Eddie might be asleep, but he sighs and slides off you, rolling onto his back. You look at him, suddenly unsure of your place, but he gets up, gets rid of the condom and crawls back into bed, drawing the covers up over you. He seems almost shy as he reaches to touch your belly, curve his hand around your hip.

“Are you sleepy?” He murmurs, tracing a bumping pattern over your ribs.

“Yeah,” you say, and find it’s true. You’re suddenly bone tired, sated. You let yourself wriggle closer, into the encircling warmth of him, and Eddie gathers you in. He smells like sweat and sex and boy and you want to breathe him in forever.

“Don’t snore,” you mumble, and he huffs a laugh.

“I’ll try.”

You want to remember the last time someone said they would try for you, try and make things good for you. No memory arrives.

“Can’t wait to hear all your secrets,” he mumbles, already half asleep.

After tonight, you think he might know them already. Outside, the crickets roar.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fluff #stranger things smut #stranger things #joeseph quinn x reader #joeseph quinn #*

3K notes · View notes

rae0fsunsh1ne · 29 days

Text

Y’all know those Taylor Swift friendship bracelets?

I want to make some Eddie Munson ones. Here are the ideas so far: - THIS IS MUSIC - Banished & Brave - Chrissy wake up - sweet ol tattys - never change, promise me - most metal ever - 86 baby - mean and scary - the freak - hellfire - corroded coffin - don't ya big boy

Any other suggestions?

61 notes · View notes

thebattleofstarcourt · 2 years

Text

༉‧₊˚✧ paradox

eddie munson x cheerleader!reader

summary: you might be a cheerleader with a bit of a mean streak, but you’re not an idiot. you knew eddie munson isn’t a satanic cult leader, or that he killed chrissy cunningham. and for some reason, you couldn’t leave high school without telling him that.

warnings: reader has no specified race, ethinicity, or gender id. however, they are implied to be affected by misogyny.

a/n: requests r open !!!!

“tonni, do you seriously not know how to fold a shirt?” you said, staring at the wadded-up polo in her hands. being the only two cheerleaders who actually showed up to volunteer at the school after the earthquake, you were naturally paired together at the folding station. this was despite the fact that you could barely stand her.

tonni was one of the few girls you’ve met who’s stupidity unintentionally makes her meaner. she’s rarely ever consciously malicious – save for the time she egged ryan jenkin’s car for standing her up at prom – but her knack for gossip and her talent for the dramatics makes her someone who you can only stand for short periods at a time before she becomes unbearingly annoying.

combine that with the fact that your ‘84 cavalier you spent the last year saving up for fell into the ground a couple months ago, and your resolve was paper thin.

“my mom usually folds mine!” she protested, a permed curl getting stuck in her lipgloss as she pouted. “i can’t believe she dragged me to this without me knowing a damn thing. it’s so humilating.”

“i highly doubt the families whose houses just got ripped open by an earthquake care about how stupid you look.” you said.

“whatever.” she huffed. “this just means we’re nicer people. you wanna know who i saw walking out of deb’s wearing brand new acid-wash jordache’s?”

“not really,” you admitted.

“fucking stacey.” she growled, completely ignoring your protests. “you know what she said the other day? she said chrissy didn’t have what it takes to be captain. like, oh my god she died, like, a week ago.”

“two months.” you corrected.

“i think she’s just jealous,” she said, as if she wasn’t too. “like, i wanted to be cheer captain too, but i’m not gonna disparage the dead just ‘cause! plus, we all know you would’ve been head cheerleader, anyways. the whole swim team has the hots for you, and they’re way hotter than the basketball players.”

“god, just shut up.” you said, rolling your eyes. the only thing that tonni ever did intentionally was throw herself constant pity parties. “your whining is giving me a fucking headache.”

your voice was just stern enough to simultaneously scare tonni to silence while alerting ms. kelley – one of the supervisors who was overlooking the stations – of a commotion.

“is something wrong over here?” she asked, causing tonni’s eyes to beam.

“oh no, we were just teasing each other.” she laughed, knocking her elbow with yours. “although, we were wondering if there was any way we could switch stations for the day?” she asked, looking down at the clothes in front of her. “i think i’d be much better an making pb-and-j’s than folding laundry.”

the older woman smiled. “of course, i’m sure we can find somewhere else to stick the two of you.”

“actually, i’m allergic to peanuts.” you lied. “so i’m gonna stay here.”

“since when – ”

“oh, of course! tonni you can switch with,” she turned around, brown eyes scanning over the room intently. “eddie!” she said, motioning the boy over,

the boy in question – eddie munson, fresh from hiding and doing his best to ride the high of being a free man – slummed over, profusely avoiding eye contact with his two classmates in front of him.

“eddie, could you switch stations with tonni?” ms kelley asked him. he gave a silent nod.

“hold on,” tonni said, lowering her voice to a pathetic attempt at a whisper, “you can’t stick her with him.” she pointed between the both of you. “we’re cheerleaders, ms. kelley. you know what he does to cheerleaders.”

she sighed, in all her guidance counselor glory. “considering the fact his charges were dropped, i think she’ll be fine.”

tonni’s smile was replaced with a displeased frown. she looked back at you for support as you rolled your eyes, beyond finished with her dramatics.

“fine,” she huffs again, walking towards the kitchen. “but just so you know, the blood’s on your hands, ms kelley!”

“i’ll take the risk.” ms. kelley said, giving eddie and you a court nod before walking away.

“she’s so fucking stupid,” you mumbled under your breath.

eddie plainly joined the spot next to you, doing his best to ignore your prescnse entirely as he began working through the massive pile of laundry tonni neglected to fold.

following suit, you began working through a new basket steve harrington dropped off a little bit ago. at the top sat a pair of dingy white boxer briefs, looking worned out to death. apprehensively, you picked one pair up by the waistband and held it under the ceiling lights. dozens of indiscernrable wet patches littered the garment, and you dropped it back on the table in disgust.

“jesus fuckin’ christ.”

eddie, who was failing at making it seem like he was ignoring you, scrunched his nose and dragged the briefs to the garbage can next to the table with the back of his hand. “gross.” he said, wiping the back of his hand on his jeans.

you mumbled a quiet thank you before the two of you fell back into a shrewd silence. despite this, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him regardless. and every third time or so, his gaze would skip from the clothes in front of him, to you, back to the clothes in front of him.

the cycle continued for the next thirty minutes, trying to egg him on so this wouldn’t be as violently uncomfortable as it was, but to no avail. his nervous energy radiated off of him like a wildfire; vibrations of tension rippled through the woobly fold-up tables like the earthquake that brought them here in the first place.

you couldn’t blame him, you guess. considering he saw someone die, was falsely accused of murder, hid from cops and rabid mobs for a week until the earthquake shattered his friend’s kneecap, when he ultimately blew his cover to carry him to the hospital.

especially since you’ve eaten lunch with the people that led said mobs for the past four years.

but then again, maybe the discomfort was partially on you as well. a conjunction of words have been lingering in the back of your throat as soon as he walked over to you, and you were just itching to get them out. but with graduation a few months away, a part of you didn’t want to risk disrupting the little amount of peace he had left in this town.

so, you waited it out some more, and he continued playing the metaphorical game you accidentally challenged him to. and even though he struggled with the pressure your gaze held him under, it was ultimately you that cracked.

“i don’t think you killed chrissy.” you told him, finally looking away.

eddie paused for a moment, letting your words and all their implications sink in. despite what you considered to be your best efforts, the fire around him was just as lively as ever.

it’s not like you ever did anything to eddie personally. but your differing status in the current social status of hawkins was enough to terrify him to the core, but he didn’t want to show that. he didn’t spend years of building up immunity from the bullying by the jocks and the populars just to sink back to rock bottom.

so instead he stiffens, hardening his exterior as seamlessly as he can. . “i think that the investigation kind of proved that.”

“well, no shit,” you said, “i’m not taking about that. i’m saying i never thought you did.”

“no shit.” he repeated.

you huffed, annoyed with his short responses. “look, she told me she was getting pot from you that thursday. at first i thought she was fucking with me, ‘cause she’s chrissy fucking cunningham. she’s holier than the virgin mary.”

“okay?” he asked, confused as to what you were talking about.

“what i’m trying to say is,” you put down the jeans you were holding before and turning towards him. “she’s kind of a square sometimes, but she wasn’t clueless, ya’know? and after i thought about it some more, i realized she wasn’t kidding. the past weeks leading up to the game she’d been acting super weird; she was paranoid as shit, always looking around like someone was watching her.” you sighed. “i tried telling jason that when he was on his whole witch hunt, but he just thought i was lying. saying all this awful shit about how i’m a slut that was being ‘led by the devil.’”

“that’s…” he started, trying to find the words – something he’d been struggling with since chrissy. “something.”

“it was fucked up,” you said, “but it kind of opened my eyes to some shit.”

eddie doesn't know why you're telling him this, and at this point, you don’t really know either. after everything eddie has gone through, he deserves to lose his trust in humanity. he deserves to have walls as tall as skyscrapers built around his heart, protecting him of any false shred of hope that people could actually think he was a decent human.

he wants to be the kind of realist that pushes people away, but he never was. because of people like chrissy and steve he now knows physical proof that these people that he’s villainized in his head for years can be good and kind. and fuck him for wanting some more of that.

“about what?” he asked finally, because he really wants to know.

“you, mostly.” you admitted. “but also kind of … everything?” you fiddled with the hem of the shirt you were folding in between your fingers, remembering the events of that night. how jason, someone you’d known since kindergarten, looked you in the eyes and spit at your feet liek you were nothing. “i guess i figured if someone who was my friend thought shit about me that wasn’t true, then they could do the same for you.”

“that’s why you knew i didn’t do it?” he asked, even though you already said your answer.

“yeah,” you said. “that and i didn’t really buy into the whole satanic cult leader thing.”

“yeah, well,” he said while letting out a shaky breath. “guess i’m not the type to match people’s expectations.”

“but you aren’t, either.” he added on. “i kind of thought you were –”

“a bitch?” you finished.

“no!” he said, shaking his head profusely. “not really, i mean. you’re just kind of… i don’t know,” he sighed putting his head in his hands.

“it’s okay,” you assured. “i’m not offended. you’re not the first person to think that of me.”

“ah,” he said, understanding truly were you were coming from know. “so we’re both victims of small-town presumption, huh?”

“except mine is at least half-true,” you said. “but i’m, ya’know, trying to work on it. being less of a bitch to people. ‘s kind of why i’m here in the first place.”

“talking to me or doing community service?”

“both.”

“well, folding clothes for people who’s homes just got ate by the earth is a great start on the path to humility.” he joked. “but, uh,for what it’s worth, i don’t think you are one. a little scary? sure, no question. i mean, i was less intimidated being interrogated by a cop who just escaped a soviet prison than when you were glaring at me earlier.”

“i was trying to figure out a way to tell you that i didn’t think you were sociopathic murderer. sorry for overthinking it a little.”

“well, uh, to tell you the truth, it actually means a lot you think that. it’s nice to know that there’s one less person in this town that thinks horrible of me.”

“same here.”

༉‧₊˚✧

“jesus.” eddie shook his head, mulling over the story you had just told him about the time roy daniels told the whole basketball team that you gave the entire football team head so you’d be head cheerleader. “i don’t think you give yourself enough credit, ‘cause if everyone started treating me like i was some succubus, i’d go batshit.”

“a what?”

“succubus.” he clarified, his face flushing slightly. “it's, um, a mythological sex demon.”

“wow,” you laughed, and eddie realizes it’s the first flux of emotion you’ve shown since he’s come over. “ya know, for super senior, you’re kind of a nerd.”

“yeah,” he said, flashing a tight-lipped grin. “i’m a bit of a paradox.”

“no shit,” you said.

“eddie!” a short-haired girl called out, running up to the table erratically. she quickly looked at you. “oh shit sorry, um hi?”

“um, hi.” you said.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to interrupt you! im eddie’s friend, robin.”

“i’m –”

“oh, i know who you are.” she said as an impressively fast pace. “not in, like, a creepy way or anything! i’m, uh, in band. and you’re the one who does all the flips and stuff during the games.”

“yeah, that’s me.”

“buckley! munson! quit yapping. we’re like twenty minutes late to henderson’s thing we gotta go!” steve harrington said, approaching the trio.

“ugh.” she moaned. “i’ll tell you in the car.”

“i’ll meet you there,” he said, nudging your shoulder.

“it was nice meeting you, robin.” you said, giving her a tight-lipped smile. you hoped it didn’t look as uncomfortable as it felt.

“you too!” she yelled back, waving over her shoulder as caught up with steve.

he turned back to face you. “guess i’m off. you’ll have to finish this load without me.”

“i’ll manage.” you said, and he smiled, sweet and genuinely. the kind of smile that used to give you butterflies in middle school.

“it was, um…” you gulped, watching him begin to walk away from you. “it was nice meeting you too, eddie.” you said.

“golly jee!” he chirped, putting his hand on his heart. “i'm honored! I know that must’ve been hard for you.”

you rolled your eyes. “it was payback for putting up with me all day. it must've been hard hanging out with a cheerleader and not gutting her open.”

he stared at you for a moment, mouth gaped. and then, he broke out into a fit of laughter.

“too soon?” you asked, scrunching your nose.

“not at all,” he cleared his throat. “in fact, that was probably the best thing anyone has said to me over the past two months.”

“even harrington?” you asked, and he laughed again. “i mean, no offense, but you are literally the last person i would ever imagine carpooling with steve harrington. and vice-versa.”

“he’s alright,” eddie shrugged. “way less cool than he was in high school.”

“guess that makes sense then,” you said.

assuming he was leaving, you went back to folding the last of the laundry for the day. eddie, on the other hand, stood in front of you, twisting the ring on his pointer finger in thought. he turned around towards the exit, then back at you before speaking up again. “you know, and of course you don’t have to or anything, but if you want, and your friends are being dicks and starting mobs again,” he said, “then you could always hang out with us.”

“you sure you’re not scared of me anymore?” you asked.

“oh no i totally am,” he said, “but maybe increased exposure will nullify me.”

“i don’t know,” you pretended you had no idea what ferocity was getting into you at that moment, even though you did. (1) all your friends are either dead, suck, or both, (2) you haven’t had sex in six months, and (3) the way eddie’s loose curls framed his how have you not noticed he was hot before face.

“i mean, that actually sounds like fun.” you continued, “but, at least to me, it seems like the more direct way to approach your problem is to hang out with me one-on-one, right?”

eddie audibly choked, obviously caught off guard at your rapid tonal 180 in the conversation. you cracked a devilish smile.

and, oh god as if eddie didn't think you were pretty before (which he did, because although he was respectful, he at least had eyes), seeing you smile like that threw him for a loop.

“one-on-one?” he asked, clarifying.

“yeah, maybe like a movie or something.”

“like a –” the sound of a car honking cut him off, proceeding a faint shout of “munson get your ass in the car!”

“yeah,” you said. “unless that’s too scary for a dungeon master.”

his cheeks flushed a bright shade of red. he coughed again, trying to pretend like the sound of your voice dipping into that octave doesn’t make him hard. “oh, that’s absolutely fucking terrifying. but luckily i’m kind of insane, so …”

“meet me at hawk at 7 tomorrow.” you said. “they’re showing castle in the sky.”

and even though eddie has absolutely no interest in watching an animated romance movie made for children, he agrees regardless. “see you then.”

༉‧₊˚✧

“fuckin’ finally,” steve groaned, watching eddie through the rearview mirror. he rolled his window down and poked his head out. “munson, if you don’t get your ass in the goddamn car in the next ten seconds you’re walking for the rest of the year!”

“sorry!” eddie said, throwing himself into the backseat. “you’ll never guess what just fuckin’ happened.”

“you folded socks with the captain of the cheer team?” robin turned around from the front seat.

“yes,” eddie said, “but also –”

“they didn’t say shit to you, right?” steve asked. “‘cause you know if they do that’s libel.”

“defamation,” robin corrected. “libel is written.”

“no one likes a know-it-all, rob.”

“you dated a reporter for a year!”

“no, they didn’t say shit to me,” eddie said. “in fact, they asked me on a date.”

the car came to an abrupt stop as robin’s jaw fell open in shock. steve quickly pulled over to the curb and turned around.

“they what?”

“are you serious?”

“so fuckin’ serious.” eddie grinned. “we’re going to see a movie tomorrow.”

“okay, wait,” robin shook her head, “so they don’t think you’re, ya’know, a murderer?”

“no!” eddie said, smiling wide.

“holy shit, man,” steve said. “that’s big. real big. i mean, have you ever even gone on a date before?”

“okay, fuck you, harrington” eddie rolled his eyes. “i’m not some fifteen-year-old virgin. you know how many people got ‘fuck a guitarist’ on their bucket lists?”

“ew!” robin groaned.

steve ignored her. “that doesn’t mean you’ve been on a date.”

“how could he not be a virgin and not gone on a – ” robin said, stopping herself before she answered her own question. she looked at eddie in disgust. “you are so gross.”

“is it really that much different?” he asked.

“what movie are you seeing?”

“... castle in the sky.”

robin stuffled her laughter behind her hands while steve signed and started up his car again.

“holy shit,” eddie said, his eyes widening at his realization. “i need a new shirt.”

#wk:3.2k #i never write pre-relationship stuff so bear w me #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson blurb #stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie munson x y/n #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn drabble #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #joeseph quinn x reader

313 notes · View notes

sweet-villain · 1 year

Text

Just A Birthday Taste~ J.Q

Author's Note : This is a little something in honor of Joe's birthday

Warning : Smut

Tags : : @ceriseheaven @josephquinnlover0 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @stillfalling30minslater @alyisdead @witchy-munson

My Master List is in This Area

" Good Morning, love" his morning voice filled your eyes as he smiled down at you, brushing a hair away from your eyes. " Morning, birthday boy" you smiled over at him. The sun came shining through the curtains making his eyes shine as he looked down at you lovingly. Times like these, you wished they lasted forever.

His hand falls on your cheeks as he runs his thumb, caressing. His love language was touch and you absolutely loved it when he touched you. Anywhere. You loved coming home to him where he greeted you in his arms.

" Happy Birthday Joe" you reached up kissing the tip of his nose.

His cheeks reddened as a smile spreads on his face, " Thank you, my love" he says, he hovers above you and leans down to kiss you.

"All I want to do is be with you, here. In this bed" he says kissing your forehead, " I don't care what we do. I just want you"

" Are you sure that's what you want to do? No going out?" he shakes his head.

You frowned thinking you should of set an alarm at least to make him breakfast in bed and when he noticed you were frowning, he didn't't like it.

" None of that" he taps your lips in a deep frown, " I only want to see a smile light up on your beautiful face. Yeah?" you nodded, watching a grin crosses his face.

His eyes darken as he growls, " I want to do something."

" What would that be?" you asked, searching his face as if you would find an answer. He cups your chin lifting your head up to look up at him, " I want you." His eyes are filled with lust. Your cheeks painted the color red, " To taste you." his leans his forehead against yours, " Can I? Oh love, please.."

" Don't you want me to make some breakfast for you first? It's good for you" you started to say to avoid the look on his face. " No, I want to eat you. Make you feel good" you were sure you were blushing now like a tomato, covering your face with your head as you mind blurred.

" We don't have to do anything you feel uncomfortable with" you shook your head as you put your hands on, " I want to, baby. I do. Where do you want me?" you asked, moving closer to him. His lips brushed against the side your neck, teasing you with his tongue and small pecks as they traveled to your lip and down to your ear, " I was you to take a seat on my face" his voice sounds deeper as his hand grabbed onto your thigh.

" But before that, I want to kiss you" Joe says as he continues to slide his hands up and down your thigh.

Your lips moved against his, opening your mouth letting his tongue battle against yours. The sensation of his tongue covering every inch of your mouth made a heat of pool in between your thighs. You captured his moans into yours mouth. His lips traveled down to your neck before tugging on your shirt. You sat up as he lifted your shirt over your head and throwing it somewhere in the room.

" You're so beautiful" he took one of your nipples into his mouth and softly flicked the other with his fingers, before playing with it in between his fingers. You moaned, arching your back at his touch.

Joe took his time giving each nipple attention until his hands gripped onto the top of. your pajama pants. He took in the sight of you, " how did I get so lucky?" he cooed, he laid down next to you on the bed. His finger tips traced down your body until he got to your pussy.

" Can I play?" he asks, looking up at you. Your cheeks hinted red as you nodded, " Pretty please, birthday boy," you moaned.

His hand slide in between your thighs and his fingers tapped over your cunt. He used his thumb to flick your clit as his other finger slide in between your lips.

" So wet for me" he smirked, hearing you whimper. He moved his thumb in circles as his finger slowly pumped inside of you before he added another finger. Your walls tightened around his fingers causing him to groan, licking his lips as he imagined his cock inside you.

He continued his pace as you felt the knot in your stomach build. You gripped the sheets with your hands, Joe watched you squirm as his fingers curled. His cock was hard, leaking pre cum. He watched your face closer and hearing your breath hitch before you gasped, coming on his fingers.

He pulled his fingers away causing you to pout.

" This is only the beginning. I want you to sit on my face. Please, love" he says he laid on his back.

" Um..I..-" he cut you off as he shook his head. " You won't hurt me, love. I promise" Joe said, stroking your thighs lovingly to reassure you. Crawling over to his, you couldn't help glance at him and at the sight of his hopeful eyes and wide smile on his face.

Putting one leg over his head hovering above him as you looked down, " This is how you want me?" you asked.

His hands grabbed onto your thighs pulling your core closer to his mouth. His tongue peeked out a bit before he licked up your slit and nibbled on your clit.

" Yes" he nodded. His nose nudged at your clit while his tongue had access to your cunt. His hands help you move your hips around till you were moving on your own as he used his tongue on you. You closed your eyes, moaning at the sensation of his tongue.

" You can be loud, my love" he looks up at you, pushing as he flicked your clit with his tongue. Moaning and groaning as he continued, " Let me hear you." he says gripping the back of your thighs pulling your cunt to his lips. His nose was rubbing against your clit as wave of pleasure rushed up your spine.

He slipped his tongue back to what he was doing, letting you move your hips like you liked. You moaned out his name encouraging him to keep going. His hand reached in between your thighs to play with your clit. Your thighs were shaking when he hummed, sending vibrations.

You can feel the knot building in your stomach as he flicked his tongue, " going to c-cum.." you moaned, grabbing onto his hair and tugging on it. He grabbed onto you tighter onto his face, licking at your clit with his tongue. You began to roll your hips faster and faster against his mouth. You tugged on his curls as you came hard onto his tongue.

Joe slurped and lapped at your juice with his tongue as you rode out your high, a slick sound as he helped you off his face. His beard, nose and chin was covered in your juice. You laid on the bed next to him panting as he pulled you into his arms.

" I could have you for breakfast, lunch and dinner" he cooed in your ear. Your cheeks brightened red as you giggled, " Stop."

" Did I make you feel good?" you nodded. He kissed the side of your head as he licks his lips as he looks down at you, " might have you before we go back to bed."

Your thighs clenched together as you whimpered causing him to smirk.

" Can never get enough of you" he nuzzled his nose against your cheek.

" Can never get enough of you either, birthday boy. Happy birthday, Joe"

#Joseph quinn #Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn x reader #Joe Quinn x reader #Joe x you #Joe x reader #Joe x y/n #Joseph Quinn smut #Joe Quinn smut #joeseph quinn x reader #jewls writes

88 notes · View notes

iamapoissons · 2 years

Text

OH MY GOD

i think i might pass out

#joe quinn #joeseph quinn #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #joeseph quinn x reader #bass guitar #master of puppets #metalica #eddie munson x y/n #joeseph quinn x y/n

282 notes · View notes

wosohermosoo · 2 years

Text

Morning, My Love. (18+, MDNI)

Joseph Quinn x Reader (afab)

Warnings: Smut, Fluff

————

As I slowly flutter my eyes open and turn onto my left side, I catch a glimpse of my boyfriend Joe sprawled out on his stomach beside me, the white duvet positioned carefully over his waist, covering his lower half. I lift myself up onto my left elbow, using my right index finger to slowly trace over his back before reaching down to give his shoulder a small peck.

Joe inhales deeply, his breath hitching slightly as he turns fully onto his side, his back still facing me whilst he rubs at his eyes with the deep held breath. I watch him comfortably. He looks over his shoulder weary eyed checking to see if i was still in bed and lets out his breath with a small smile, his eyebrows furrowed. “Hi” I chuckle. He groans before positioning himself so that he is flat on his back. Joe was never the most talkative in the mornings, but it was cute.

We both lay in a comfortable silence for a while, Joe staring at the ceiling with one hand placed on his head, his elbow up in a right angle. The silence of the room making every little little breath, gulp and and tired reposition of his mouth ten times louder.

He turns his head towards me, staring blankly, his eyes puffy and swollen. I smile, “what” I grin. He shakes his head with a small frown. “What - are you just not gonna talk?” My smile widens.

“Mm-mm” He shakes his head, closing his eyes.

“Mkay” I chuckle, turning onto my side with my back facing him.

“What’re you doing?” He groans groggily, looping his arms around me to pull me back towards him. “Oh he speaks!” I roll my eyes dramatically. He smiles silently, pulling me into him as I now lay back on my back. He wraps an arm around me and shuffles closer, burying his head into the crook of my neck and giving it a small and delicate kiss.

We must have fallen back to sleep, as when I open my eyes we had reposition and Joe was spooning me, his soft exhales tickling my shoulder. Joe was already awake as his hand were innocently gliding along my arm, circling my skin with his fingers every so often. I shuffle back - not that there was any extra room between us - but to feel just that tiny bit safer in his embrace. I feel him kiss my shoulder, lifting his head slightly so that his lips were now sat at the nape of my neck, before placing another delicate kiss on my skin. Joe shuffles around a little, and as he does, I feel the very obvious bulge in his boxers rub against my ass.

“Joe-” — “I know” He cuts me off, now planting kisses all over my neck.

“Joe” I giggle. He lets out a breathy laugh. “Yes?” He replies. I stay silent. He takes my hand in his, both now under the covers, and places it on his - now extremely hard - erection.

“You mean this?” I feel him grin against my neck. “Yes, that.” I chuckle slightly, as his hand guides mine, cupping him through his underwear. “What about it?” Joe asks gripping down on my hand a little firmer.

Joe shuffles back a little, causing me to slide onto my back, before he hovers above me, his hands situated just besides my ears. “Morning - by the way” he grins. I fiddle with the two chains that were dangling from his neck above me. “Morning” I grin before he presses his lips against mine, the both of us catching a slow but deep and passionate rhythm. He situates his body so that his hips are delicately pressing into mine.

“You look good in this..” He grins, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt that I had stolen the night before.

I giggle, “thank yo-”

“Take it off.” He says abruptly, his eyes now completely full of lust.

“Joe” I chuckle a little, looking up at his eager expression, before im completely shut up when his cold hand slides smoothly under the shirt, lightly making its way from my stomach to my neck where he gripped my throat delicately. My bare breasts were on show, but the tshirt still looped around his wrist.

He glances down at my body as he watches my bare nipples harden as the air hits them. He lets out a small noise of amusement before lowering himself again to smash his lips onto mine, swirling his tongue around mine in desperation. His hand leaves my throat and I feel it graze down my breast, giving it a rough squeeze. He does the same with the other, pinching my nipple lightly as his hips delicately grind against mine. His hand slides down, stopping at the hem of my underwear for a short moment, before trailing down my thigh. Our lips danced together in unison as his hand trails back up from my knee to the waistband of my underwear. We had been together for a while now, and so he knew that asking for permission to take them off was never something I’d say no to, so with one slow and steady motion he slid down his body down my torso, trailing wet sloppy kisses along with him as he slipped my underwear off. His head stopped just above my pubic bone, his breath fanning at my heat, before leaving a soft lingering peck at the very top of my folds.

My hands subconsciously tangle in his hair as he leaves sloppy kisses along my lower stomach, groin, and folds, “what do you want?” He asks breathily.

Joe knew dirty talk made me shy, I could feel the blood rush to my cheeks as his eyes gaze up at me from below, he loved it. I shrug with a small embarrassed smile. Joe chuckles, slowly running his fingers along my slit before stopping directly on my clit. He raises a brow sightly with a deep lustful stare, still waiting for me to reply. I don’t.

“This?” He asks, beginning to rub soft, slow circles against my clit with his first three fingers. I nod as he watches me intensely, his hand drifting down to my hole for a short moment to gather the juices that had very quickly aroused before sliding back up to my clit.

Joe lets out a soft chuckle, lowering his head towards my heat before latching his lips onto my clit. My back arches as his tongue begins to work wonders against me, letting out soft quiet moans as the wet, erotic slurping sounds of his mouth against me fill the bedroom.

“God, Joe” I moan out, feeling him grin against my heat as his fingers slip down and caress my hole. The teasing feeling of his fingertips delicately gathering my juices before two of them are very swiftly pushed inside, his tongue still working magic against my clit.

My hands tangle in his hair as I glance down at him. He looked so content, low grunts slipping his lips every so often. “Joseph”

His eyes meet mine. They were somewhat darker than usual, a deep lustful gaze as he watches me squirm against his mouth. I was extremely close and he knew that. He curls his fingers up and towards himself, his fingers grazing against my gspot as he ups the speed ever so slightly and my hips begin to jolt.

With his free hand, Joe secures my hips, forcing me to stay still has he devours me from below. “Stay still” He mumbles against me as the feeling of pleasure completely takes over my body. “Look at me”

“I cant” I breathe out, my eyes rolling back as i feel a tightening in the pit of my stomach.

“Yes you can. Look at me” Joe demands, his lips sucking against my clit as his eyes burn into mine.

“Look at me, y/n” He repeats, his free hand caressing my breast as my eyes flutter open to meet his. “Cum for me, my love” He says in a soft, but dominant tone. His fingers pick up the pace, brushing against my gspot over and over again. I watch his mouth work its magic, the pleasure from my clit as well as mu gspot sending waves of ecstasy through me.

My legs subconsciously wrap over his shoulders, securing his head in place as he does everything he can to send me completely over the edge. I am physically unable to take any more and my legs begin to shake. I moan out his name as I release my juices, still his head does not move. He laps up my release, groaning out in satisfaction as his tongue still continues to move against me and my hips buck against his mouth. “Joe” I moan out, earning a deep proud chuckle.

He grins against me, leaving delicate sloppy kisses against my swollen and used pussy before sliding his body back up next to me to pull me into an embrace, “Morning, My love” He chuckles.

#joesph quinn #joe quinn #stranger things #eddie munson #smut #eddie munson x reader #fanfic #joeseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #st4

38 notes · View notes

madxyy · 1 year

Text

anything for munson - eddie munson x fem!reader

| summary: you try to take care of a drunk eddie munson

| warnings: smut-ish, use of y/n once, mention of drinking, eddie being a menace even when he is drunk, friends to lovers, dry humping, kissing, pet names, a little bit of steve x reader, use of she/her, a lil fluff, flirting?

a/n: help.

You told him. No, you warned him. Damn you for giving in and going with him to this stupid party that you didn’t even want to go to in the first place, but dear-old-you loved him too much. All you wanted to do was spend the saturday night in his trailer, learning how to play dnd while the bad horror movies you both picked out roared in the background, glances—that held so much more than a glance—shared across the room, him offering you weed while you declined him but thank him for offering it to you anyways, which then leads him to respond with a dramatic knife to the heart and sad puppy dog eyes that you love oh-so-much.

But no, now you’re stuck dragging drunk Eddie to his room while one of your arms is circled around his waist and the other one holding his hand that is resting on your shoulder.

Damn Steve for challenging him to a keg stand, steve was already 4 shots in when he stumbled in your conversation, basically headlocking him, “hey munson,” he slurred “I bet I can beat your cult-loving-freak ass to a keg stand, what’d you say?” eddie craned his neck to steve, a sly smirk slowly creeping its way onto his lips “alright pretty boy, what do I get in return?” he scoffs, “you gotta be kidding me munson, you are in MY house, drinking MY beer, eating MY snacks, lounging around in MY kitchen while also getting the chance to flirt with y/n, thanks to me if I must say, so you basically got a whole package deal” you and eddie both tensed up as a tinge of pink overtakes both your faces

“i’m not flirting harrington that’s just my natural charm” he says humorously, steve scoffs

“yeah sure, and I have a successful love life”

“still as charming as ever steve even when you’re drunk,”

His eyes darted to yours–a mischievous look behind those hazel eyes–as he looked at you up and down, slowly walking up towards you “mm only for you baby” he winks “oh well...in that case, let’s take this party upstairs shall we?” giving him a sly smirk. Eddie just watches you two, jaw clenched, eyes set on the way steve is leaning towards you, hands on his chest while you bodaciously bat your eyelashes at him, the way his lips are bitten between his teeth just by looking at you. He knows you and steve always joke around like this and that nothing will ever happen but he can’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy, even though you are a free woman and can date whoever you want, he just can't help seeing you with anybody else. As soon as steve puts a hand on your waist, Eddie puts a hand on his chest, pushing him off just a little bit rough then he was meaning to, “alright harrington, let’s go” he said in a dark tone, steve gaze switches to you from eddie, blinking at him, “wait wait so just to be clear you know you are getting absolutely nothing in return, right?.”

He glances back behind you “Damn babe, did a tornado enter my humble abode” he says while dramatically putting a hand towards himself to indicate ‘moi?.’ You pushed down the way the nickname made a blush crept onto your cheeks. “No munson, that would be you and your own drunken recklessness” he snorts.

You let go of his hand and open his bedroom door, gently laying him on his side. You get up to get a trash can to put on the side of the bed but a hand stops you midway “where you goin’ princess?” he says looking up at you with a lopsided smile. “just going to get a trash can and a cold rag eds” he stares up at you with the most starstruck expression like he can’t believe someone wants to actually take care of him. It pains you. After beats of silence you clear your throat, he sighs “okay”. He reluctantly lets go of your hand, letting the touch of each other's hands linger “I’ll be back” you offer him a soft reassuring smile.

After you come back and put the trash can on the side of his bed you ask him to hold the rag on his head while you undress him. As you start taking off his shoes and pants “jeez take me on a date first sweetheart” you ignore him as you continue to slide his black pants down his legs.

“Shut up munson, do you want to be sweating balls through the night?”, he gives you a pout that is just too cute, you just want to kiss it off him.

“Exactly”

You put the sheets over him and grab the cold rug from his limp hand “Thank god, my hand was exhausted!” you shake your head while giggling. Always one for the dramatics. “Oh no! We cannot let Eddie THE Banished hands go limp, we must save the hand doctor before it’s too late!” he gives you a look “har har har, very funny sweetheart” pride takes over you as you smirk down towards him. You realized, you never REALLY got to observe his features up close like the way his eyes crinkle when he gives you a slight smile, how his eyes are usually a dark shade of brown but right now the lamp on his nightstand is giving them a beautiful hue of caramel, the way his nose is so perfectly curve “Y’know you are very beautiful sweetheart” wait. Shaking your head to get out of your own thoughts, you nervously chuckled. “Eddie, you're drunk.” He rolls his eyes

“No I mean it, sober and not sober,” softly cupping your cheeks,

“you are so beautiful. Cross my heart”, you inhale sharply.

You froze, you couldn't say anything, your mouth was opening and closing but no words were coming out. He laughs. HE LAUGHS?!?!

“Sweet heart calm down, i’m pretty sure you get told that all the time” he said it so casually it astonished you. The only time someone has ever called you pretty was one of your family members, especially when you were little. The room all of a sudden turned silent. Oh. Oh shit. Realization quickly dawned on him as his eyes bulged out of his head while millions of thoughts raced through his head, ‘people are out of their goddamn mind for not telling you every single day how beautiful you are’, ‘what?!?! who? when? where? and most importantly why?, ’screw them all’, ’how can they not??’. He composed himself and slowly sat up “Well..” clearing his throat as he got closer to you. He looked up at you under his lashes then to your lips, god your lips. He didn’t know he was subconsciously licking his “they should.” You inhaled sharply. All of a sudden you’re aware of how close you two are “Eddie what..” he was still staring at your lips like he was in a trance and couldn’t escape no matter what you did, you even scooted back a little but that just made him scoot closer to you “Eds come o-” you were cut off by a pair of soft lips that made you gasp which to eddie, gave him access to slip his tongue in. You let out a whimper and god eddie swears it was the most beautiful noise he has ever heard. Embarrassed, you hastily disconnect your lips from his, “Eddie, oh my god i'm sorry” you both stare at each other with swollen lips and flushed cheeks “No baby, don’t apologize that was the hottest shit i’ve ever heard” he said breathlessly, before you can utter a response, his lips were on yours again, except this time more aggressive, more passionate, less gentle.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap. It was messy, everything about this was messy, sloppy, hands everywhere. His hand was gripping the nape of your neck while the other one was situated on your waist slowly making its way down your thigh. Your arms looped around his head. “Baby” he murmurs “you don’t know how long i've been wanting to do this” you made a sound in the back of your throat as a sign of acknowledgement and nodded. He smiled into the kiss. His thumbs were rubbing back and forth on your thighs, making you subconsciously open them up wider. You started rubbing yourself on his thigh, back and forward, back and forward, until something made you freeze. Something hard touched the side of your thigh. oh Oh? OH You looked up at him breathlessly, guilt automatically taking over-shit-as much as you wanted this to happen, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. “Eddie holy shit. We really shouldn't have done this. I'm so sorry, i’m supposed to be taking care of you, oh my god, i'm so sorry” you say hastily. He understands, he really does but he can’t help it, you are so captivating that all he can do is smile at you with admiration “I mean…” he says dragging the ‘e.’ “technically you are taking care of me just in a…..unique way.” he smirks, this cocky son of a bitch. You rolled your eyes and giggled as you hit him on the chest “Eds i’m serious” you whispered “I want to do this the right way, when you’re sober” he gently strokes your cheekbones “I understand sweetheart” You sigh. He connects his forehead with yours. After moments of silence “Do you want to go on a date with me?” asked in the most gentle tone you have ever heard, like the question was made of glass. He looked up at you with a hopeful expression -- like a little kid waiting in line to tell Santa what they wanted for Christmas – which you couldn’t say no to “Of course eds” he smiles up at you with lovesick eyes, before anything else “but we’ll talk more about this in the morning, I don’t think right now is the right time” you say giving him a gentle smile.

He exhales deeply but then nods because you’re right. He is sober for the most part but still a little bit drunk and not in the right mind space. You gently get off him and lay down beside him. Eddies turns to you

“thanks for taking care of me”

you smile “i’ll always take care of you munson.”

His smile extends “goodnight sweetheart”,

you were about to say goodnight until you glanced behind his shoulder and caught the sight of something. Confusion settles in him as you turn him to face the other side of the bed “what are you doing babe” you blinked up at the set of curls facing you, “making sure you don’t choke on your own vomit munson, I put that trash can there for a reason.” The back of his head starts moving as he shakes his head “Damn baby, are you sure that’s the reason? Or Is it because you can’t handle looking at this beautiful, gorgeous, sexy face” rolling your eyes “can it munson or i’ll suffocate you in your sleep” slightly turning his head over his shoulder “I mean I have other ideas of what you can suffocate me with” you can practically hear the smirk in his voice “OH MY GOD” you say as you hit him with a pillow “eddie just go to sleep” he just keep on giggling like it was such a knee slapper. You hit on the arm, “okay okay” he says breathlessly

“i’ll go to sleep, just for you princess”

“good.”

Now he’s the one that can hear the smirk in your voice and all he can do is shake his head as he turns back to the other side of the bed. After a few seconds you scoot closer to his back. Hands cautiously circling around his waist “Is this alright?” you asked softly. He chuckled “Of course” he whispers as his hands engulfs the one holding his waist. “Goodnight eddie”, smiling to himself, “goodnight sweetheart.”

Maybe going to the party was worth it.

#stranger things fanfic #stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #joeseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #st4 #hellfire club #eddie munson smut

970 notes · View notes

schlattsdoll · 2 years

Note

Could you do a Eddie one where he got his name clean and finally graduate and you two get out of Hawkins to start a new life together

‘86 baby! - e. munson

:pairing: eddie munson x fem! reader

:warnings: minors dni !!! eddie munson being the menace he is, false accusations, OD mentions, you are responsible for your own media consumption!!

eddie was already a social pariah, being falsely accused of murdering hawkins high’s golden girl while being a super duper senior just piled onto it.

luckily for him, you believed his innocence, and so did your family who tried their best to get him a decent lawyer. they knew reefer rick from their younger years and knew he had a “habit” of cutting corners sometimes. one anonymous tip to hopper and the hawkins post later, the headlines went from “satanic cult sacrifices star student” to “head cheerleader accidentally overdoses” overnight.

“sweetheart, i will never be able to repay your parents for what they’ve done for me. i feel like i have a second chance now.” he smiled at you, hugging you tightly outside of the courtroom. “1986 is really starting to feel like my year.” and he wasn’t wrong.

eddie munson wouldn’t be caught dead at his high school prom, but when he heard how excited you were, he was having his uncle teach him to tie a tie and dustin’s mom teach him how to dance.

that night, you two snuck off into the woods. “where are you taking me eds? we’re missing everything!” you laughed and plopped yourself on the picnic table you two would roll on during lunch. eddie got down on one knee and “proposed” with one of his rings.

“princess, i may not have much, and hell i may not be much of a man, but i love you more than anything in this life. i promise i’ll get you a real ring one day, but for now, will you be mine forever?”

#eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #joeseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader

4K notes · View notes

munsonshair · 1 year

Text

pic you’d have if eddie was ur boyfriend 😍😍😍

2K notes · View notes

cinnamongirll-444 · 19 days

Text

Brainrot is soooo bad rn

But imagine Eddie with a curly haired partner who helps him style his hair(he def uses 4 in 1) like that is so so so sweet to me.

Definitely wasn't doing my hair when I thought about this immediately

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson #black reader #eddie munson x reader smut #stranger things #joeseph quinn #brain rot #going on 2 years of Brainrot help pls #steve harrington #steddie #steddie x reader

46 notes · View notes

rae0fsunsh1ne · 1 year

Text

Eddie is so babygirl but Joseph is so babyboy yknow

318 notes · View notes

ladybird2094 · 2 years

Text

Spring break

Warnings: 18+, minors dni. Smut. Oral (both female and male receiving), unprotected sex. Mentions of cuffs. Reader is plus sized.

Summary: it’s the day before spring break, and the Hellfire club needs someone to take Lucas’ place.

Word count: 2.1k

It was the last day of school before spring break started, needless to say you were looking forward to having a whole week for yourself where you didn’t have to worry about the stupid kids in this school.

Hawkins High never treated you kindly, this was your second time going through senior year and everyone decided you were ruled an outcast just for that. If they only knew why you had to re-do the year…

You were sitting alone in the cafeteria when you saw Eddie in the table across from you walking around and making fun of the popular kids, they just rolled their eyes. Some flipped him off and others just called him a freak, but you smiled. You knew Eddie for a while, you both had the same classes and were sometimes partnered up to do a class project together. He was always nice to you, and he never judged you or made you feel uncomfortable. It was inevitable for you not to fall for someone like him, he was everything you had dreamed of and more.

“Hey doll, what are you doing all alone here? You know you’re always welcome to sit with us.” His voice was smooth, and he was wearing his most flattering smile on his face when he spoke to you. You bit your lower lip, you never knew if he liked you or if he was just overly nice to you.

“I don’t think I want to be called a spawn of Satan today Eds” you joked and played with the straw of your juice box as you saw him sitting next to you. “No offense, but I’m trying to maintain my ‘lonely outcast’ act until the end of the school year.”

He let out a chuckle and you could’ve sworn you would be drooling if it weren’t for your self control. “We could be outcasts together, doll, just imagine how fun it would be. The ‘ex-popular girl’ hanging out with the freaky D&D club, now also called Satan worshippers. Your old friends would go wild.” You rolled your eyes teasingly and pushed him away gently. He laughed again and stood up. “Anyway, I came here to ask you a very important favor, one of the guys can’t come to our campaign tonight and we need a person to fill his space, could you possibly do it? Please?” He held his hands together and gave you the cutest puppy dog eyes ever. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear, I know you know how to play.”

“Sure, I don’t have anything to do and it’ll definitely be more entertaining than being stuck having to watch the basketball game.”

He jumped in excitement and kissed your forehead. “You’re a lifesaver y/n, I’ll see you after school!” And with that he ran to his table again, leaving you with your cheeks burning up.

It was 4pm when you knocked on the classroom door that the Hellfire club used for their campaigns. Everyone was already there, Eddie was on his throne, flipping through pages of his notebook, he looked up at you once he heard the knock and smiled. “Y/n! Welcome to Hellfire, please sit so we can start.”

The game went on for two hours, and it was the most fun you ever had. It was reaching its end with only your character alive against Vecna. You shook the dice against your palms and threw it to the table, you closed your eyes nervously not wanting to know what the result was. Seconds passed and you heard everyone yelling and cheering, you opened your eyes to see that you had defeated Vecna. You jumped and laughed as everyone congratulated you, Eddie stood up from his seat smiling and clapped. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is why we play Dungeons and Dragons.”

Ten minutes had passed and everyone had left except you and Eddie, you were packing your things into your backpack when you felt a little tap on your shoulder. “Hey y/n? Do you want to maybe… go back to my place and watch a movie?”

You felt your heart drop to your stomach in anticipation and nodded, trying to act as normal as you could.

The drive over to where he lived was short, you already knew the place, you’d gone to buy some weed at his house before. But this time it was different, he invited you. He opened the door to his trailer and let you in first, the place smelled like tobacco and incense, probably to cancel out the funky weed scent. He guided you to his room with his hand pressed on your back, “sorry for the mess, the maid took the week off” you giggled and sat on the edge of his bed. You looked around as he tried his best to clean up a bit, there were posters of his favorite metal bands, a stereo, and his red electric guitar was hanging on the wall, a pair of cuffs and a long chain caught your attention, Eddie noticed where you were looking at and his cheeks turned red.

“That’s- that’s just for decoration! Don’t worry about it.” He mumbled and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Anyway… wanna smoke?”

You were both on the bed, high off your asses and laughing about the most random things, your black skirt had ridden up a lot, leaving your naked thighs on sight for Eddie to see, you weren’t doing it on purpose, but the man next to you was hypnotized by how your soft skin looked under the dim bedroom lights.

He got closer to you, grabbing your chin softly and making you look up at him.

“I like you a lot, doll. It’s driving me insane.” He whispered, his lips barely touching yours. Your mouth opened in surprise and you froze, was this really happening?

Before you could say anything he glued his lips to yours in a soft kiss, his other hand hugged your waist, pulling you closer to him. You gasped and closed your eyes, kissing him back and sinking one of your hands into his curls. Your heartbeat was out of control, this felt surreal, were you dreaming all of this? Eddie took you out of your thoughts as his hand slowly went to your thighs and squeezed them firmly, you let out a soft moan against his lips and he smiled, proud of himself.

“I need you baby, say the word and I’m all yours.” He kissed and licked your neck, waiting for you to respond, but it was impossible for you to form a sentence when the guy of your dreams was already making you feel good without trying. He slapped your inner thigh and you whimpered as you looked at him, his brown eyes almost black and his smile wasn’t sweet like before, he looked like he was ready to devour you. “I need you to talk to me, angel. Tell me what you want.”

“You, Eds. I want you.” You whispered and kissed him, this time it was sloppier, needier than the last one. He tugged on your shirt, you lifted your arms and helped him with getting you naked, he groaned as he saw your breasts and started kissing and biting your skin, leaving a small trail of marks on your chest. Your back was arched as he sucked and nibbled on your nipples, he took his time with each, pinching and rolling his fingers against the one he wasn’t sucking. His mouth got lower and lower, and he planted sweet kisses on your squishy stomach.

“You’re beautiful.” He chanted over and over as he lowered himself on top of your clothed core, there was already a small wet spot in the middle of your panties and he bit his lip. “Is all of this for me?” He asked teasingly and you nodded frantically, feeling his hot breath against your thighs. He planted some kisses in your tender skin and left a few hickeys on them too, you squirm underneath him, needing to feel his touch desperately. “Such a messy girl, I’ll take care of cleaning you up, princess.” He ripped your panties and skirt off and took a minute to look at your naked body lying on his bed, your breaths were short and your eyes were closed. You looked gorgeous, ethereal, he promised himself he’d be the only one looking at you like this from now on.

His thumb pressed lightly against your clit, earning a pathetic moan from your lips, you were desperate. He chuckled and finally lowered his tongue against your folds, you heard him moan against your cunt, the vibrations of his voice shaking against your body. His tongue felt like heaven, lapping up your juices and licking your clit until he left you shaking. He teased you over and over again, and you were convinced he was trying to make you go crazy. Tears were rolling down your cheeks and your lower lip was bleeding a bit from all the biting, your legs were shaking and you could’ve sworn he laughed at you a couple of times. He slowly pressed a finger against your entrance, you gasped once he was knuckle deep inside of you, his tongue kept abusing your clit and you felt like you were going to explode in any minute. “Eds… baby, g-gonna cum, please.” You tried forming a sentence, but the pleasure was clouding all your senses. He added another finger and started moving them inside you, stretching you out and trying to find your soft spot. His tongue moved quicker and he sucked your clit a couple of times, driving you even crazier than before. Once his fingers found your sensitive spot it was over for you, you came so hard you thought you would pass out. He took his fingers out and fucked you with his tongue, cleaning you up and swallowing everything you had to give him. You pushed his head away when he kept going, you were overstimulated and he was enjoying every second of it.

He lied next to you and kissed your forehead, a big smile on his lips. “You did so good for me, baby.” You smiled and kissed his cheek as you sat on his lap, grinding your hips against his. “Baby, we don’t have to-“

“I want to, let me make you feel good.” You unbuckled his jeans and with his help you took them off along with his boxers, you nearly drooled at the sight of his erection, his tip red and filled with precum, one of the veins popping out along his dick. You dropped to your knees and spit on your hand, wrapping it around him and stroking it slowly. His head rolled back and he moaned softly, his voice turning you on more than you were already. You wrapped your lips around the tip and sucked lightly, his hand immediately gripping your hair as he gasped. You took him in, slowly at first, feeling the tip hit in the back of your throat. You closed your eyes as you bobbed your head up and down, every time quicker than the last, his moans got louder, and his grip on your hair tightened.

“Baby, baby, don’t wanna cum in your mouth, not yet. C’mere.” He pushed you against the bed and got in between your legs, his cock rubbing your clit teasingly. You bucked your hips against him impaitently and he smiled, planting a soft kiss on your lips. “Whatever my girl wants.” He pushed himself inside of you, the both of you gasping as he fully stretched you out. He stayed still for a bit, not wanting to move until you were comfortable. A whimper escaped your lips when he pulled out and thrusted inside of you, all the air getting knocked out of your lungs. His thrusts got harder, and his grip against your waist grew tighter, you were definitely gonna have bruises there by tomorrow. Your eyes rolled back as he found your sensitive spot and abused it with each and every thrust, his thumb traced circles against your clit, bringing you to the edge again. “C’mon baby, cum all over my cock. Be a good girl and make a mess on me.” You arched your back and moaned his name as your second orgasm washed over your body, you could’ve sworn you saw stars as his thrusts became sloppier. He kissed your neck and moaned against your skin as you felt his cum filling you up.

His eyes were shut tightly as he got out of you and lied next to you in the bed, pulling you in for a hug. He peppered kisses all over your face and you giggled as he kissed your lips again.

“That was…”

“Amazing.” He replied, caressing your cheek. “And the fun hasn’t even started yet.” He smiled cockily and squeezed your ass.

“I was wondering when you were gonna use those cuffs.”

This was going to be an interesting spring break.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #joeseph quinn #stranger things smut #smut #plus size reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson x reader smut

2K notes · View notes