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#joseph quinn x y/n
indouloureux · 2 years
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eddie fic where he's sleeping beside the reader after a heated fight and he makes it up by fucking her from behind?
shisjskssj make up sex *faints.* thank you for requesting! <3
18+ mdni — afab!reader, she/her pronouns, fingering, praising, p in v, unprotected sex, light choking, biting, scratching, creampie
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he never thought it would hurt to see your back facing him.
usually it excites him. knowing he'd surprised you, hug you from behind, wrap his arms around your waist and place his chin on top of your head as he greets you with messy kisses.
same goes for tedious nights, spooning you, encasing his own body in yours in benign possession; in a promise of protection to the people who thinks of harming you. eddie feels as though he's keeping his own heart against his chest.
but now, your back facing him squeezes his chest. and you're not even beside him — you're by the edge of the bed, curled into the ball with the blanket halfway through your torso, hands tucked beneath your pillow as you breathe unevenly. you're still awake.
it started at work. at some dingy restaurant where you waitered, serving some greedy and sordid men who thought a hand down your ass was enough of a tip. they never got away with it, because your boss knew it was wrong. and eddie knew that none of it was your fault — of course he did. he should.
but an old friend came over. an old boy-space-friend came over at work. sat on the booth right at the corner. and you couldn't help but catch up, because he was an old friend. but eddie got the wrong idea; standing outside the restaurant with a smile that slowly fell as you laughed and smack some other guy's arm as you did so — the way you'd do to eddie when you couldn't breathe from all the laughter.
he wasn't insecure. eddie knew you loved him. but it didn't mean he would trust the guys around you immediately. watching at the way the old friend eyed you like some fresh meat, the way his hand would go on your shoulder as he laughs like a pretentious dick.
jealousy burnt him alive. it put him in a sour mood even as he picked you up, chastised his kiss by placing it on your cheek, but his hand on your thigh was tighter.
and gasoline rained upon him when you went home.
"come on. i saw the way you touched his arm!"
"it wasn't even a touch, it was a slap! i slap my dad's arm like that all the time. what the hell is wrong with you?"
"maybe if you weren't flirting with some guy, i wouldn't have acted this way."
you weren't even the one who poured it.
as the fire died, residues of leaden smoke pervade the bedroom. as well as your irritation towards his irrationality. because for you, though he may not have said it, you think that he's lost his trust by the simple sight of another man laughing harmlessly with you.
it angers you. how he got jealous — even though you would have felt the same if you ever saw him with some other person. but you know you'd never shout at him, or accuse him of flirting, or any other detrimental acts that could break the chain in your tethered hearts.
but you're young. and you're petty. and you have every reason to be mad. so you are mad. sinking into your side, eyes shut even though the dreams refuse to start. you know eddie's staring at your spine, tracing the color of your thin shirt — your shirt rather than his. a detail he's picked up that leaves a pang to his chest that spreads everywhere.
he thinks of letting this go. letting you sit in your own cottage of anger until its wood has been burnt into nothing but lethal ashes. but if eddie sits this one out, there'll be nothing left to fix; what would ashes do if not be swept away by the wind?
eddie sighs. "(y/n)."
no answer. duh.
"sweetheart."
he gently, so gently, places a hand on your shoulder to shake you carefully. you frown at his sudden touch, but you refuse to move and try to trick him into thinking that you were asleep. because you really just want to sleep.
but ever the fighter, eddie makes another sigh before he's scooting closer to you. until the curve of your back hits his chest and he hooks his arms around your waist, his fingers splayed around your stomach. "baby," he mumbles, pressing his lips on your clothed shoulder.
your tongue clicks with the roof of your mouth, the lines between your eyebrows deepening as you try not to melt into his touch. "what, eddie?"
his nose tickles the crevice of your neck, his breath hot as he huffs against your skin. "i'm sorry, baby," eddie pouts, his head lifting slightly to take a glimpse of your eye and cheek. "i didn't mean to yell. or accuse you."
hesitantly, you open your eyes, staring onto the poster that sticks to the plaster walls of his trailer, but your focus remains on the way his hand is lightly massaging your stomach and his lips that stay on your shoulder.
you turn around, the sheets ruffling along with your heavy huff. eddie etches a small, triumphant smile on his face, even though you're still frowning at him.
"sorry doesn't cut it, eddie," you whisper. his smile withers, licking his lips before he nods in understatement. "you yelled at me. you accused me of flirting with someone else. it's like you don't trust me."
eddie puts his hand on your arm, furrowing his eyebrows as he leans closer. "no. no baby, i trust you. it's just that—"
"you don't trust them. i know," you pinch the bridge of your nose. "but that doesn't mean you should yell at me. he was a friend. we were catching up. and i'm sorry if it made you think that way but we should have just talked about it."
guilt showers him. and embarrassment drowns him in this tub; because he knows you're right. eddie should have sat down, or approached you quietly, and maybe he should have just asked who he was and told himself that you'd choose him over anyone. because you would, right?
because you promised. and he believes it because he trusts you.
"princess," he whispers into the thin air, cold and cruel to exposed skin. "i'm sorry. i- i trust you with my whole heart. i swear. okay? i'll never do it again, i promise you." brazenly does he let his fingers dance up your arm to the side of your face where he pushes your hair away, swallowing thickly. "i swear to you. i swear on my hair. on ozzy osbourne. on the hellfire club. even dustin henderson. i swear."
you find the love in you to laugh and smile at him, despite the fact that it wasn't a joke and he knew that he'd actually swear on dustin — the kid he adores the most. you place your hand on top of his, the one on your cheek, and find comfort in the warmth of his flesh in this cold night.
"i still need to see some groveling, though," you half-jest. "i wanna see you on your knees tomorrow. cooking for me. iron my clothes. fold my laundry. everything." eddie grins, his teeth glinting between his thin lips. "that shows then how sorry you are."
"baby, i'd be at your service any time," he takes your hand and kisses the back of it, lips placed on top of a vein. "i'd be on my knees for you anytime." eddie says this with the hand beneath his body untucking itself so that it would travel down your stomach, coz he's a sucker for a great performance.
eddie nudges his nose with yours, his lips hovering in a ghost of a wanted kiss but never truly reuniting. his hand wanders down, cheeky fingertips lingering above your shirt before it comes down beneath to touch your hot flesh. "babe," you warn, letting your eyes flutter shut when his thumb grazes the skin beneath your breasts. "i still- i still haven't fully forgiven you. 'was supposed to give you the silent treatment but—"
"but we're here now, hm?" you gasp at the touch of his rough hand suddenly groping your tit, pressing your hard buds against his palm as his fingers dig onto your flesh, squeezing it like some pillow. eddie smirks when your eyebrows join, lips parted to let out small, quiet whines when his other hand decides to slither beneath your shirt and cup your tits with his thumbs running over your nipples. "gonna let me make it up to you, princess? we can start now, yeah?"
you know he's not fully in control, in the way his hands still stay on your tits and never really where you want him to. his thumbs and fingers that pinch and pull on your hardened buds awaits for your guidance; you take one hand of his, and shove it beneath your sleep shorts to let him cup the pool of wetness created by merely by the fondling of your breasts.
eddie chuckles, each beat drips boastfully. "all that for me? you're mad at me but you're still wet, huh?"
you tsk, frowning still with your eyes closed. "shut up or i'll fuck myself in the bathroom."
"with what?" he queries, fingers tracing the lace of your panties before they press against your slit through the fabric. eddie bites his lip when you moan quietly, subtly grinding against his palm. "your fingers, hm? thought you can't make yourself cum? because your fingers aren't as big as mine, sweetheart. you'll just anger yourself more."
still, despite his teasing, he moves your panty to the side and lets his fingertips drag through your slick folds. eddie swallows the moan that comes out by pressing his lips with yours — a messy, breathy open mouthed kiss that makes your hips stutter against his fingers that they slip to prod on your starving hole. he shoves his tongue in your mouth, flicking it with yours before he closes his lips around you to fully kiss you, silencing your moans.
his fingers decide that sliding them against your cunt wasn't enough, coming up to rub your clit in slow figure-eights. you squirm against him, slowly lifting when eddie's other arm wraps beneath you to push your head closer to him, resting on the side of your head to at least keep you still and quiet.
"eddie," you whine. "you're such- you-ah...you're an asshole."
your glinting slick coats his fingers. your supposed insult makes him press harder to your clit that makes you jolt, eyebrows clenched and raised when he does so. "i know, baby," he hums, smiling roguishly. "i'm such an asshole for touching you after we fight. i'm such an asshole that—"
he plunges his fingers — two fingers, right inside your hole. straight up until he's knuckle deep and his fingertips graze your g-spot when he curls them. you moan loudly against his lips, only to be muffled when he encases your mouth again.
"—i'm only fingering you," he finishes. "that i'm teasing you. because you want my cock, right? i know you want it. gotta give my princess what she wants, hm? but how will i be sure if it's my dick she wants if she can't even say it?"
you're panting, even though eddie's doing all the work by fucking you with his long fingers. he's pressing and tracing your gummy walls; scissoring his limbs in the way he knows you love that has your toes curling. your grip his forearm, nails digging on the bats on his skin until there's crescent indentations on his opalescent organ.
"say it, baby," he nips at your bottom lip, opening his eyes just to stare at your slacked jaw and wrinkled face. you whine and whimper when he picks up the pace and goes fast, a soft squelching noise heard beneath the blankets from your arousal.
"i- i want your cock," you mewl, legs spreading wider. when eddie shoves a third finger, your forehead touches his, greeted by an unsynchronized kiss where you take his top lip into yours. "p-please. i want your cock, eddie. your big, fat fucking cock inside me."
"atta girl," eddie takes his fingers away, shoving three of them to suck out your sweet juices. he moans as he does so, your eyes opening and you feel like you could just cum right there at the sight of it. "turn around, sweetheart."
you go back to your old position — your back to his chest. but this time it doesn't squeeze his chest. it makes all the blood flow down to his hardening cock, begging to be sprung out by his tight boxers and dive into your gaping hole.
still with an arm beneath you, eddie uses the advantage to lightly wrap his hand around your neck, pressing on the sides. your hand moves blindly behind you, searches for his cock that eddie tries to free as he removes his briefs and tucks it beneath his ass. he licks on his palm and jerks himself a few times, groaning when your palm meets his shaft and pumps him sloppily.
"fuck, baby," he pants. "god it hurts. i need to- i need to be inside you right now."
eddie nips at your earlobe, both your hands holding his cock upright as he presses his tip right into your hole that clenches on nothing but the sweaty air. you take a deep breath when he starts pushing in, his hand leaving his cock to push your leg up from beneath your knee, his length slowly pushing in until his thick mushroom bulges almost painfully at your cervix.
he stops then when he's pushed to the hilt; his balls right up at your neglected hole. eddie lets out a short moan, grunts when your nails scratch at his forearm and throw your head back where your hair meets his lips.
"‘y so tight, (y/n)," he sighs. "can feel you squeezing the shit out of me. i'm gonna move now, okay?"
you nod. eddie pushes his hips back, cunt halfway through his length before he slams back in, tip almost bulging out of your navel. your hand comes up to wrap behind his head, letting his lips evade your temple, trailing down to your neck where he removes his hand just so he can suck on your sweaty complexion.
he's slowly pistons himself, though despite the laggard thrusting, skin slapping is heard. eddie's panting on your neck, your moans high-pitched and sometimes mistaken as a whimper when you try to keep quiet as to not disturb neighbors nearby.
"love this cunt," eddie groans, his thrust slowly fastening. "such a tight pussy. pretty fucking pussy jus' taking all of me 'coz you're such a good girl, yeah? a good girl who deserves everything; even my fucking cock. come on, baby, milk me dry."
his grunting exceeds when he fucks himself faster, your ass grinding up against him. you wish to see his face, the way they would always scrunch up into his blissful haze at the feeling of your walls against his bare dick. but you're too cockdrunk, your limbs tangled into this clusterfuck of released anger and make up sex.
you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling his teeth biting at your skin. "shit, baby," you mewl, pushing up against him. "fuck me faster— oh, yes! yes yes, fuck!"
he removes the hand from your knee to rub your clit, almost ripping the seams of your underwear as his hand moves vigorously on the swollen nub. he circles, he rubs it left and right in a quick pace that almost matches his thrusts. his slick and your arousal creating the most lewd and loud squelching noises that the covers can't even muffle.
"oh- yeah," eddie moans, maybe a bit louder than you. "fuck, i'm gonna cum. i'm gonna fucking cum, baby."
eddie doesn't need your approval, anyway, because at one thrust, you're spilling all over his thick cock, painting his muscle in white, salty cream. he moans when he feels your warm substance coat him like the way your hand would. and soon, his tip pushes his seed deep in your pussy, paints you hot white like a blank canvas.
but despite his sensitive cock twitching, he's still slowly thrusting inside you. eddie pulls out when he's had enough, turns your panting into whimpers when his fingers scoop up his cum and push it back inside your spasming hole.
"eddie, i'm still sensitive," you say absentmindedly, eyes dripping.
"i know, baby," he kisses your cheek. "just gotta keep you full, okay? just keepin' it inside."
and when he's pressed your panties back in places and cleaned himself up with his hand, eddie wraps his arms around you once more, pushing you close to his chest and peppers kisses all over your head.
"i'm sorry," he whispers. "i still am sorry for what i did. i'll grovel tomorrow, i promise."
you hum, taking his hand and kissing the back of it. "you're forgiven for like, five percent."
"five?!"
"because you teased me," you playfully kick his shin. "now let me sleep."
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rushed bc dude i need to take a shit
reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3
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yellowlilly · 2 years
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Ten Things I Like About You (one-shot)
Synopsis: There is one rule for Y/N to accept Jason Carver's advances: if he wants to go out with her, the jock has to name ten things he likes about the resident 'Freak'Eddie Munson. Can he do it?
Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader
Warnings: swearing, Jason being a dick as usual, nothing else I can think of (minimally edited)
Genre: fluff mainly
Word count: 3085
DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE MY WORKS ON OTHER PLATFORMS WITHOUT SPECIFIC WRITTEN PERMISSION!!!
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Y/N Y/L/N was an enigma at Hawkins High. Not unpopular by any means, but didn’t run directly in with the ‘it’ crowd either. She was friends or at least friendly with most of the cliques, but even with the ones she didn’t interact with, she didn’t bully or look down on them, simply coexisted without any problems. Eddie thought it was probably why he’d started to crush on the girl.
Typically, she’d be sitting by the cheerleader table, her and the Queen of Hawkins High Chrissy Cunningham being as thick as thieves unless Nancy Wheeler had taken some time off from their newspaper to come and eat a bit, but starting from a couple of months ago, from time to time, he’d find the girl by his Hellfire Club table. She wouldn’t bother them, wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t even look at them, simply sat down and started to push around the sludge-like mashed potatoes or scrutinize the way-too-orange looking mac‘n’cheese on her plate.
At first, Eddie wanted to snark at her, wanted to tell her to get lost, but the day Y/N had first taken a seat at the far end of their table, he’d noticed how she’d closed her eyes for a moment, took in a deep breath and exhaled. And then, when she did open her eyes – it was like a giant boulder had come off her shoulders. And he understood it. Maybe not exactly what or why she felt that way, but he did, and Eddie’d be damned if it didn’t make his heart skip a beat at the thought, she felt safe around him and his bunch, safe enough to let down her guard like that.
Slowly it had become a routine. Seemingly whenever Y/N had too much of something, she’d take a now unofficially assigned seat at the right end of their table and just sit there. She’d throw them a small smile and a wave, then pull out her Walkman and put the headphones on, disconnecting her from the surrounding world, and Eddie had sort of taken it upon himself to make sure Y/N enjoyed her forty minutes of peace unbothered. Maybe he’d sometimes let Robin Buckley or Chrissy take her out of the zen state, but for anyone else, Eddie would give the most menacing and crazy look he could muster, so the person tucked their tail between their legs and turned the other way, leaving the girl alone.
This was one of those days where Y/N needed to get away from the crowd, it seemed, as Eddie watched how her shoulders and back tensed more and more with every second the guys from the basketball team spoke around her while she sat next to Chrissy, before something in her snapped. She placed a gentle palm on the other girl’s hand, squeezed it and stood up, taking her food tray with her, as well as her book bag.
Loud “oh, come on, Y/N!” followed her, but she didn’t even look back, rather gritted her teeth so as to seemingly not let out whatever it was, she wanted to actually say.
With a deep sigh, she dropped the bag on the ground, and a bit more carefully placed the red plastic tray on the table as to not let the questionable meal of the day slip off.
She was wearing a pair of light baggy jeans, some graphic tee of an obscure-looking indie movie printed on, tucked behind the waistband and cinched with a black belt while a knitted patchwork cardigan kept her warm in the still somewhat cool spring winds.
Y/N looked comfortable, and that was also one of the things Eddie liked about her. She didn’t really follow the newest fashion trends. Sure, her clothes were mostly styled in a way that reflected whatever was in at that moment, but she did it in her own way. Eddie was pretty much sure, he’d seen that cardigan on her all throughout high school. She didn’t hide behind clothes to create a persona, she used that and make-up, or on some days none of it, to enhance who she already was.
“Shit,” Y/N muttered under her breath, bringing Eddie out from his thoughts as her fork clattered below the table.
Grumbling, she put her Walkman away to lean down and grab it, but the freshman Mike, who’d Eddie had recruited for the D&D club, beat her to it.
“Here,” the boy mumbled, and Y/N flashed him a grateful smile.
“Thanks. But I probably should get a new one. I don’t think I’m brave enough to put anything in my mouth that’s touched the cafeteria floor. Don’t want to be the cause of the new Black Plague or some shit.” She snorted. “Besides, I’ve made it to the end of my senior year. It’d be quite pathetic to kick the bucket like a couple of months before that.”
“Not as pathetic as repeating the senior year, over and over again,” Eddie chuckled from the head of the table, but Y/N didn’t laugh along with him at his self-deprecating joke.
“Just because someone’s not academically skilled, doesn’t mean they’re pathetic.” She was frowning. “I’ve heard you play, Eddie. You’re amazing. I have no doubt that when you get out of this hellhole, you’ll do big things. Just… just don’t give up yet, don't write yourself off like that.”
Eddie was one hundred percent sure he was blushing like a madman, but the soft smile she gave him made his heart soar at her kind words, let alone at the fact she had heard him play and had said he was talented. The man was just about ready to combust from the love in his chest.
Truth be told, Eddie was also academically inclined, it’s just that whatever the school threw his way couldn’t hold his attention for more than a second. He was excellent at math because of D&D, but when it came to finding the x on a Pythagorean theorem, he was lost because there was no intrigue behind it. He was an amazing storyteller, but his grammar wasn’t the best, and his handwriting was even worse, so most of the time even he couldn’t figure out what he’d written on the page, getting himself a fat D- for the unintelligible scribbles.
“Shit,” Mike muttered, bringing Eddie out from his daydreams and making him look up at the freshman, but his eyes were trained somewhere over Y/N’s shoulder.
Slowly he followed as she glanced backwards, and groaned as they noted Jason Carver walking up the Hellfire table, the whole club growing stiff and frowns etching themselves onto their faces.
“Not one single day of fucking peace,” Y/N mumbled under her breath and rolled her eyes.
“You okay?” Eddie leaned closer to her over the table. “Just give the word and I’ll tell him to fuck right off from here. I have no problems making a scene.”
“No.” She sighed, stabbing the fork into the food with a ferocity, Eddie could only imagine it was someone’s face. Hopefully that someone's that was sauntering their way. “Don’t. The shit he does and says to you is bad enough, so please don’t add any fuel to the fire on my account. Sorry, by the way.” She grimaced. “For all of that.”
Eddie shook his head. “It’s not like you’re saying those things, which by the way, thank you.”
Y/N frowned even more. “You shouldn’t be thanking me for being a decent person. Fuck how low has the bar gotten exactly?”
His snort made her lips quirk up in a smile, but all of it was wiped away when Jason cleared his throat. 
For a moment she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, as if gathering her self-composure, before turning around in her seat with a raised brow. “Can I help you, Carver?”
“I just - uh - look.” Jason gave Y/N the most charming smile he could muster. “I know the guys can be a lot with the teasing, but I actually came here to say that honestly maybe we should do it, you know...”
She looked at him as if he’d grown a second head. “Should what?”
“Go on that date. I mean I think we’d look pretty cute together.”
“Yes, well, some people think hairless mole rats are cute, but you don’t really argue about taste,” Y/N deadpanned and once again Eddie snorted.
Jason threw him a scalding glare. “Something funny, freakshow?”
“Carver,” she snapped. “Seriously?”
The basketball player’s hands balled into fists, but it seemed like he knew throwing a punch at Eddie would be completely counterproductive. “Okay, look.” He averted his eyes to Y/N. “Can you just come back and sit with us? At least away from… them? I know that all of this,” he gestured towards the Hellfire Club. “Is just an act, okay. I know you’re trying to play hard to get, but at least do it with someone of your own status.”
“My own status? Who the fuck do you think we are?” the girl scoffed. “This is high school, Jason, not the Queen’s court.”
“This shit’ll follow you after high school, Y/N.” Jason looked up and down at Eddie as if he was vermin. “I’m just trying to help you make the right choices.”
Honestly, Eddie wasn’t even listening to what the asshole was saying as he watched in fascination as a plan developed in her head. 
“You know what, Jason, you are right,” she said. “I will go out on a date with you, and I will never talk to anyone at this table. In fact, I'll never even walk past here again.”
Well, there went any chance Eddie had.
“If…”
Oh.
Y/N’s eyes met his. Eddie gulped, watching her stand up and slowly saunter away. His heart was beating a mile a minute and even though he didn’t have asthma, he was sure this was how an asthma attack felt, breaths coming in shorter and shorter as Y/N stood behind him.
For a second there was non-verbal communication between the two, as Y/N asked with her eyes if he was alright with her touching him, and he gave her a barely-there nod. Then her palms slowly settled on his shoulders before sliding over them and down and down his chest until she had her chin perked in the crook of his neck, her fingers intertwined right below his pecks, and oh, God, Eddie was gonna pass out.
He was desperately trying not to squirm because if there was one place on his body that was ticklish, it was his neck and collarbones area, but Eddie would stay still like the dead if it kept Y/N’s chin on his shoulder.
She was hugging him, her breaths tickling his neck, as his mind whirred, not even able to process any words coming out of her or Jason’s mouth, the rest of the cafeteria background having turned into white noise. All that existed was Y/N’s scent, and her touch, and her body weight pressing against his back and oh god, oh god, oh god.
“ – isn’t that right, Eddie?” Y/N’s voice invaded his ears and he blinked rapidly to get back to reality.
“What?”
“I said a guy should prove himself to a girl before asking her out, right?”
Eddie swallowed, and nodded, his eyes unable to break from Y/N’s gaze. “Right, yeah. Of course. Definitely. One hundred percent.”
“So then.” Y/N looked at Jason. “Don’t you think you’d have to prove to me I wouldn’t waste my time with you?”
Jason had his arms crossed, glaring at Eddie as he sucked on his teeth, probably trying to figure out a hundred different ways as to how to punch in his nose, but reluctantly looked at Y/N.
“Name your price, Y/L/N.”
“You, Jason Carver, have to name ten nice things about Eddie here. And you have to say them like you mean them.”
Jason let out a laugh, and the rest of the gathered basketball team mimicked him. Eddie hadn't even noticed his goons had gathered to watch the spectacle. “What? I meant something I can actually do.”
“I can start.” Y/N shook her head and smiled as if she was oblivious as to what he’d meant. “But obviously you can’t use my examples, you have to come up with your own. For one.” She turned to the side and looked Eddie directly into his eyes. Yep. He was for sure dead. Had to be. Or definitely was going to be because he wasn’t breathing. Was his heart still working? He wasn’t sure. “I absolutely love how you can play the guitar. I think it’s amazing. It takes dedication and skill to keep up with something like that. And well, I’d say it certainly means you’re good with your fingers, which is an added bonus girls definitely appreciate.”
You know what? If lightning struck him then and there, Eddie would be completely fine by it. Was he a massive virgin? Yes, very much so, he’d never even fingered a girl before, but holy shit, he’d play the guitar until his fingertips bled, if what Y/N said was true, especially if that was her opinion.
“Come on, Y/L/N.” Jason let out a chuckle of disbelief, but Eddie could see he was seething underneath, and it was very much so an enjoyable sight. “Stop playing. Tell me what I actually have to do to get you on a date with me and away from these lowlifes.”
Y/N simply shrugged, pressing her cheek against Eddie’s, pouting as she did so. “What do you mean? I already did – name ten nice things about Eddie. It can be about his looks, what he’s good at, how he’s helped someone – anything. Here’s an easy one – his mind is absolutely brilliant. You have to have amazing imagination to come up with such complex Dungeons & Dragons campaign plots, and I think he’d make an amazing novelist if he put those ideas on paper.”
“He’s a freak.” Jason finally snapped, sneering with as much venom as he could muster. Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if he actually was a snake underneath that skin and hair gel.
Y/N snorted and straightened out, but her palms remained rested on Eddie’s shoulders and he couldn’t help himself but settle his own over hers. Their fingers intertwined and she squeezed his palm in response. He was in heaven.
“And what, you’re not?” Y/N scoffed. “Jason, you’re obsessed with chasing an orange ball around a court like you’re a fucking dog who needs to hear ‘good boy’ every time you almost put it in the hoop. You think you’re so nice and all when you’re the most judgmental piece of shit I know. I asked you to name just ten nice thing about Eddie, and you couldn’t even pull some bullshit one out of your ass, but I definitely can name ten things I hate about you starting with the fact that you’re so high up your own ass you can’t take ‘no’ for an answer. I don’t care about sitting next to you, let alone going on a date with you. The fact that you can’t see beyond your own prejudices, makes me know I did the right choice by telling you to go screw your hand the first time around.”
“You’ll regret this,” Jason sneered. “I’m trying to save you, can’t you see? You’ve been sitting with them so long it’s started to corrupt you.”
She raised her brow. “Will I? Because from my standpoint my future looks pretty a-okay. And saved from what? A fantasy game? You think an elf is gonna chop my head off in the real world? Or some orc's siren-like voice will lure me to my doom? Get a grip, Carver, and get out of my face before I smash it in for you.”
Jason was absolutely seething, his face flushed red while his chest heaved up and down, throwing one final look at Eddie who had a satisfied smirk on his own. “Just you wait, Y/L/N, and you’ll see the true nature of these – these Devil worshippers. And when you do, don’t come crawling back to us.”
“Jason, if you had the last glass of water on earth and I was on fire, I’d rather be consumed by those Hellish flames you’re afraid of than go near you with a ten-foot pole.”
And just to add the cherry on top, just to piss him off even more Eddie wiggled his fingers in a ‘bye-bye’ motion.
For a moment, Jason stammered, clenching and unclenching his fists as if readying himself for a pounce, but even with the whole basketball team behind him, he’d been humiliated by Y/N already, and if Principal Higgins came in to see a brawl, he'd surely believe the girl's version of the story, mainly because Chrissy Cunningham would a hundred percent stand by her best friend.
Eddie was sure he’d pay for her sticking up for him later, and no doubt Jason would find a way to make Y/N’s life a hell, but for now, they celebrated, as Carver turned on his heel and stalked away, the whole of Hellfire erupting in cheers and whoops.
“I’m so in love with you,” Eddie breathed out and Y/N threw her head back in a laugh. He swore it was the most beautiful sound in the world before he realized he’d said his thoughts out loud.
“Yep, and you said that out loud too.” Her smile was blinding, as she took the offered seat at Eddie’s side one of the boys sliding further, instead of retreating to the one at the end of the table. “But it’s okay. I – uh – I kinda like you too. It’s what made putting Jason in his place double the joy.”
Fuck it. It was high-time he shot his shot. “So, if I asked you out on a date would you tell me to go and screw my hand or would you give me a chance?”
She rested her chin on her palm, giving him a coy smile. “Well, can you name ten things you like about me?” 
Eddie leaned in closer, their noses almost brushing, wide grins on both of their faces. “Baby I have a whole list – would you like to hear it alphabetically or by the dates I noticed them?”
“Your pick, Eddie.”
By the time he walked that graduation stage and flipped Principal Higgins off, he hadn’t even gotten to B yet as the list was ever growing.
So was hers.
Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):
Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64​ @supernaturalbaesduh​ @thatawkwardlittlefangirl​ @sea040561​ @staryeyedgirl​ @deathbyarabbit​ @m-a-t-91​ @maladaptive-ninja-returns​ @averyrogers83​ @in-the-end-im-still-trash​ @gallifreyansass​ @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog​ @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​ @strangersstranger​
A/N: :)
P.S. Eddie tags are open if anyone wants to be tagged in future stories, HMU or leave a message under the fic :)
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icallhimjoey · 3 months
Text
Define Close
♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: What good are flatmates even, if they don't comfort you when you need it most? Or when you need it a normal amount? Or, you know, when you don't really need it, but just really want it?
CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, hurt/comfort i guess? idk we're sad a lot and joe cheers us up a lot
Author’s note: this sort of came about after taking small little bits from several requests that i combined and then shaped into what i wanted for myself, and for a minute, i thought 'what if i don't make this one extremely self-indulgent for once' but then... why the fuck wouldn't i? so...
Wordcount: 2.7K
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part one - part two - part three - part four - part five
One of those days.
You weren’t going to wait until you got home to ask Joe what pizza toppings he wanted. Not today. So you texted,
“peperoni or chicken?”
And it took just a few seconds for Joe to open Whatsapp and to reply.
“those my only two options?”
You didn’t have the mental capacity to even think of any other pizza toppings, let alone get into some banter over text with your flatmate.
“joe”
There were a million ways for Joe to have read that, to have interpreted that. Yet, he got the tone of it just right.
“don’t worry, i’ll take care of it”
No playing. Just quick solutions to problems of which Joe didn’t even really know what they were yet. Then another text from him followed, asking you the question you’d just sent him.
“peperoni or chicken?”
“chicken”
You remembered exactly when this pizza tradition started. Could pinpoint the exact date, time, and place.
“no i was wrong.” “peperoni”
The first time you and Joe shared a pizza as new flatmates, was when you’d gotten home one morning, still very obviously in the outfit you’d left in the night before. Joe had been cooking up some breakfast in the kitchen and had his jokes ready, already grinning to himself when he hadn’t even seen you yet.
“Well, well, well,” he called over his shoulder as you took a moment by the front door to just... breathe. You would’ve tried gathering yourself, but there wasn’t much to gather.
“I know you said the plan was to go out and celebrate Friday, but you didn’t mention anything about Saturday morning,” you could hear the joy in Joe’s voice, all chipper and lively. He’d very clearly had a great night’s sleep, unlike you.
Joe heard footsteps, and when they stopped in the doorway, he turned his head to look. Spatula still in hand, eggs just about ready in the pan in front of him.
“Look at what the cat’s drag–...” the comment died on his tongue. “Jesus, are you all right?”
Joe had expected a tired, sloppy girl to have walked in. One with messy hair, eye make-up all smudged and sort of drunk a little, still.
He’d been right.
That was exactly what he was looking at, which should objectively be funny. Hence the smile that still lingered on his face as his brow slowly furrowed in confusion.
“You look like the inside of a shoe,”
Joe tried his hand at humour, but it fell completely flat.
What he hadn’t anticipated, was for his flatmate to look quite so sad in reaction to his comments. So very drained of life. You’d obviously been crying and looked like you hadn’t slept in weeks.
For a moment you just stood in that doorway, looked a little dazed because, um, why were you going into your shared living space again?
You needed your bed.
Without answering Joe, and without even really acknowledging him at all, you took a shuddering breath and slowly turned back around, only to ignore Joe’s question and disappear into the hallway.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Joe quickly turned the hob off and rounded the island to go after you. He was too late though, stepping into the hallway just as your bedroom door closed behind you. The immediate guilt that followed his poking-fun carried him over to stand in front of it, just enough self-restraint left to not just open your door and walk in right after you.
You didn’t seem like you needed to be pissed off any more than you already were.
From just outside of your bedroom door, you heard a very faint knock, followed by Joe’s voice, asking if you were all right once more.
“Did– did something happen? What’s going on?”
All you managed to do was sigh, just loud enough for Joe to catch it.
“What happened?”
But you didn’t want to get into it.
“Do you– hey,” Joe called your name, waited for a second, in case you wanted to answer him, but then when you didn’t, he followed it up with, “Do you want some breakfast?”
And honestly, breakfast sounded nice. But so did burying yourself into your duvet for a few days, where no one would try to look you in the eye, and where no one would try to make you talk. Were you going to listen to your rumbling stomach that wanted some food, or to the rest of your body that just wanted to be horizontal?
“Some scrambled eggs? Piece of toast?” 
You milled it over in your mind.
“Or, I could make you something else? You want some yoghurt? With some berries in?”
Joe tried. Was actively trying. But it didn’t seem to work, just didn’t seem to do the trick. It stayed silent on your side of the door.
“Some pizza?”
And it was meant as a careful joke. A hopeful small little thing to at least lift the mood, if nothing else. If you were even still listening to him at all, that was.
He was about to tell you that he’d be in the kitchen if you needed anything, that you could just let him know. No worries if not. But then he heard rustling. Stumbling footsteps, followed by your bedroom door slowly opening.
“Hey,” Joe cocked his head to the side at the sight of you, his eyes all soft, forehead crinkled with worry. “I’m sorry.”
You looked right past him.
“What... what kind of pizza?”
You focused on the important things instead. Didn’t really care to acknowledge Joe’s apology.
“Well,” Joe tried to hide his smile as he looked down at his feet before stepping aside and holding an arm out, inviting you to walk ahead of him, making your way back into the living area. “I think there’s a few to choose from in the freezer.”
You’d shared a pizza that morning, you sat at one of the stools of the kitchen island, and Joe stood on the side. He hadn’t asked you any questions then, but instead had just tried his hand at light conversation until suddenly, halfway through a slice, you’d started sobbing.
And it wasn’t like you and Joe had never hugged before.
But you’d never been hugged by him like that before.
Where Joe instantly dropped his food and stepped closer to fold arms around you. Where Joe got an arm around your head to press your face into his chest whilst the other curled down around your shoulders that pressed your chest into his stomach. Where he decided he wasn’t going to be the one to pull back first, and so you’d just embraced like that for over half an hour.
He hadn’t asked you any questions.
Not when you cried.
Not when you’d stuttered through breaths as you tried to recollect yourself after.
Not when you eventually pulled back and reached for another bite of now-cold pizza.
Not when you then silently frowned at the hardened cheese and softly sighed to yourself.
Not when you did eventually retreat back into your room but came out just a minute later and asked if Joe had any plans that day.
Even if he did have plans, Joe knew that he’d cancel them all for you.
“Want to rot on the sofa with me? Watch films all day?”
And you hadn’t meant to fall asleep all sagged into his side then, but you had. And Joe had played with the ends of your hair until the warmth and comfort had pulled him into a nap as well.
You’d never talked about what had happened then, why you had been so sad, because you didn’t need to. It was nice that Joe hadn’t asked for you to explain why you’d cried, and instead had just comforted you until you managed to smile for him again.
Joe thought that maybe, if you wanted to tell him, one day you would. But he didn’t need to know why his flatmate was sad when she was. He was happy just being there to help and fix it.
And now, here you were. Two flatmates who shared a tradition of having pizza and watching a film when you’d had a bad day.
And today had just been... long. Hard. Frustrating. You didn’t want to get into all the things that had nearly pushed you over the edge, and you were glad that you didn’t need to.
Joe didn’t ask questions. Never did.
Just went to get you the peperoni pizza you’d asked for.
Would cuddle you on the sofa all night if that was what you wanted.
It was what he wanted, anyway.
He was well aware that none of that was normal though.
You were flatmates.
If Joe referred to you in conversation with a friend, with a family member, or even with a stranger, you were his flatmate. The girl that he shared the living area of his flat with. The pantry, the fridge and the freezer. The coat closet by the door. A letterbox downstairs by the entrance.
Flatmates.
But if someone were to ask you if you and your flatmate were friends too, you’d tell them yes of course. You shared dinner more often than not. If you had friends ‘round, Joe would hang out too. And vice versa.
Normal.
Just normal friendly flatmates that also knew each other’s parents by their first names, but you know, those things sort of just came with sharing a living space together, right?
And no one ever really thought there was more to you and Joe, anyway.
Why would they even assume?
You dated other people. Went on regular dates with different men. Other guys. Would even sometimes sit and watch a film with someone, and Joe would join you for a little while. Have casual conversation with whoever you’d invited over.
Normal.
What wasn’t so normal was that the second it would just be you and Joe, you wouldn’t hesitate to touch if you wanted to touch. Wouldn’t hesitate to find him, wherever he’d be, and sling your arms around his stomach from behind, just to hold him for a minute. Would wait to get comfortable on the sofa until Joe would join you there and you’d wait for his arm to find its way around you before you’d settle in.
You never talked about it.
It was just what it was like. You were close. The affection was just a natural thing between the two of you. It didn’t need any words. Any explaining.
But Joe knew you both understood that this could be interpreted very differently through other people’s eyes.
It’s why you kept referring to each other as flatmates, and why you weren’t like that in front of other people.
Which was fine.
You lived together.
There was plenty of time without other people there.
When you walked into your flat that evening, the promise of a shared peperoni pizza combined with the contrasting warmth that immediately made you feel uncomfortably hot in your coat, was nearly enough to bring you to tears.
“Joe?”
“Hey, bad news,”
Oh no.
Joe appeared at the other end of the hallway.
“They didn’t have any Sprite left, so I got you a Fanta.”
You let your shoulders drop and let your head fall to the side in relief. That was hardly bad news. You didn’t love Fanta, but the bad news revealed Joe had gone out to get a pizza instead of throwing a frozen one into the oven.
“Fanta’s fine.” You smiled. Joe easily copied it.
“Good, okay. Now,” Joe continued, suddenly his face all serious again as you took your coat off and toed your shoes off. “I know that last time, I got to pick a film, so technically it is your turn... but, I’ve already chosen something to watch, and I did go out to get us the largest peperoni pizza London has to offer, so...”
You stilled and gave an exaggerated sigh, all mock frustration, because you honestly didn’t give a shit. If anything, it was nice that Joe had made the choice for you, seeing as you didn’t really have the mental capacity for any decisions right now. If it had been left up to you, you’d hav been scrolling through Netflix for at least half an hour until settling just to watch some celebrity panel shows on Channel 4.
“No sprite and I don’t get to choose the film?”
“I’m sorry,” Joe was trying stupidly hard to hide a smile.
You blinked at him a second.
“You’re not sorry.”
“No I’m not. You made me go out and it’s fucking freezing outside today.”
You made your way over to your bedroom to get changed, and just before disappearing, you said, “Cool way of letting me know you’ve not left the flat all day.”
Like Joe’s hair hadn’t told you as much already.
You wished your job would let you work from home too. Although, with Joe spending weird stretches of time just sitting around and reading, you didn’t think you’d get much work done. Would probably be a bit weird if you logged onto a zoom meeting from your spot on the sofa, half of Joe in frame.
“I did leave the flat! I just said!” Joe argued, leaving you to get into a more comfortable outfit.
You grinned to yourself.
Joe was an idiot.
In an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of joggers, you joined Joe in the living room where you found a large pizza box on the coffee table, two cans of Sprite next to it.
Sprite.
“Surprise.”
Joe had lied.
Then you looked at the TV screen, paused at the title of the film Joe’d chosen and, fuck all the way off, did he want you to cry?
“I know it’s not your genre...”
It was. It absolutely was. It wasn’t Joe’s genre, though. “But I promise you’ll like it.”
You didn’t know if you wanted to hook an elbow to his jaw or squeeze your nails into his cheeks, but you needed to do something to get this surge of emotion out.
You opted for swearing at him instead of physical violence.
“I fucking hate you so much right now,”
“Yea?” Joe sat down, pressing play on the remote and reaching for the throw blanket. “Come hate me over here.”
And so you did.
Sat down next to Joe, thigh to thigh, and let him sort the blanket so it covered the both of you before leaning over to grab the pizza box.
The heat coming from the pizza quickly found your legs through the blanket and through your joggers. It was a stark comparison to how cold your fingers still felt from your trek home.
You rubbed them together as Joe opened the pizza box and, shit, that looked good.
“You cold?”
“Just my fingers,” you replied, already putting both hands to use, ripping the pieces of crust that hadn’t been cut properly and lifting a slice out of the box.
Joe did the same, and then when he saw one of your hands lower down, he was quick to grab it, encasing your cold fingers into his large palm.
The act of being upset with him for being nice faltered, and you smiled at Joe as he smugly grinned whilst he chewed.
See, had someone else been there with you, you’d have gotten comments. If not jokes, at least you knew you would’ve gotten some judging looks. Some questions later, about what was going on between the two of you?
Nothing was going on between the two of you.
Just warm cuddles and comforting touches, which was fine when it was just you and Joe.
So what if Joe held your hand whilst you ate pizza and watched a romantic comedy together?
So what if a piece of peperoni was about to slide and fall to your chest, but Joe saw and got it just in time, and you thought he was going to pop it into his own mouth, but then instead he held it up in front of you and waited till you ate it from his fingers?
So what if, after finishing the pizza, Joe planted his feet on the coffee table and pulled you into his side a little? Grabbed your arm to lay over his stomach? Ended up with both arms slung around, his own fingers locking on your back to keep you in place whilst you watched actors older than the both of you act as if they were in their early twenties still?
Life was just more comfortable when it was filled with good snuggles, you and Joe both agreed.
But you never talked about it.
You were just close.
No questions asked.
Flatmates. Friends. Just, close.
---
The Taglisted
@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo
taglist currently full, sorry
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seatnights · 3 months
Note
Who are some of your favorite fan fiction writers?
i spent hours to collect usernames of authors i enjoyed reading from, and i’m sure i missed some, but i tried.
are u ready for this?
authors you SHOULD support:
oneforthemunny / icallhimjoey / jamdoughnutmagician / rosebudsgarden / willowsgri / joequinnisgod / eddiemunsons80sbaby / chrrymunson / eddiemunsonswhxre / lonelysatellites / loveshotzz / usedtobecooler / carolmunson / upsidedownwithsteve / sherifftillman / spicysix / emsgoodthinkin / retrobutterflies / tiannasfanfic / athena-writes-i-guess / shesinchargeareyoukidding / cooliestghouliest / singularattitudeofasafetypin / babybluebex / quinnyfairy / moonchildquinn / i-me-mine / luveline / myosotisa / silent-stories / blueywrites / steviesbicrisis / munson-blurbs / ficsbypix / lovejosephquinn / eddieschains / prettyboyeddiemunson / eddieandbird /pleasantlycrazyworld / corroded-hellfire / trashmouth-richie / justmeinadaze / mopeymopeymouse / munsonslilbunnie / keeponquinning / gatorstillman / allthingsjoeq / jadeylovesmarvelxo / mysticmunson / sugarsblurbs / taintedcigs / gag-me-munson / gravedigginbbydoll / ratskcoreddie / andvys / manicpixiedreamcurl / thruheavenandhighwater / joejoequinnquinn / munsonsreputation / upsidedownmvnson / hellfiresmaster / elightysixbaby / eddiessluttywaist / littledemondani / choke-me-eddie / eddiemunsonsmum / eddiemunsonfuxks / pinkrelish / hllfireclb / indulgence-be-thy-name / wheels-of-despair / hellfiremunsonn / filthyjoetini / ghost-proofbaby / havecourage-darling / forever-rogue / queenimmadolla / josephfakingquinn / roanniom / bimbobaggins69 / songforeddiemunson / munsons-hellfire / honey-flustered / eddie-van-munson / storiesbyrhi / lovebugism / neonghostlights / harrywavycurly / chestylarouxx / courtingchaos / galaxy-siren / harringtons-cupid / hard-candy-writing / wroteclassicaly / raccoonboywrites / dr-aculaaa / palomahasenteredthechat / palomahasenteredthechat / forevermoreharrington / corrodedcorpses / strangerquinns / sunnythevampireslayer / lesservillain / stevenose / eddiesxangel / stveharringtn / spookysteddie / keeksandgigz / darlingsfandom / her-power / idkidknemore / francisquinn / inkluvs / ashwhowrites / hellfire--cult / succubusmunson / v8mpstamp / stevieswhore / munsons-maiden / rustboxstarr / corrodedseraphine / reidsbtch / lexlec / katiemcrae / the-unforgivenn / keerysfolklore / appocalipse / familyvideowithsteve / tiannamortis / joekeeryswife / bettyfrommars / cinemamunson / munson-mjstan / teddyeyeseddie / lofaewrites / mediocredreams / leasstories
OK SO
here we have 137 authors, i didn’t tag anyone cuz i would probably have disturbed half of the fandom, sorry if it’s more difficult this way, but i hope i could help you a bit.
obviously, there’s no order of preference of any kind, and i tried to put as many authors as i could but i know i’ve missed someone. if i did, i’m deeply sorry, it wasn’t on purpose and i have nothing against you! if you wish you can message me or slide in my ask and ill add you immediately!
now, i’m a bit tired after all of this, and my hand hurts but:
DON’T FORGET TO SUPPORT THE AUTHORS!!!
they put their works for free!!! everyone can enjoy media and content for free thanks to them! and it cost you nothing to reblog and share their work.
thank you for every creators / writers/ artist out there to make every single works of yours and sharing them with the world. all of you deserve so much, and thanks to you for so many people the day gets better, it’s like having a sweet little treat, like taking care of yourself, like finding a place where you are understood. so, thank you infinitely. keep it up cause you’re doing amazing!
-🤍🌻🌱
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rxgnor0k · 2 years
Text
Idyllic — J.Quinn
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Masterlist➢𖤓
Summary: <You accidentally say something flirty that catches you and Joseph off guard, little do you know that he’s been waiting for you to say something like that for ages>
Pairings: <Joseph Quinn x costar!fem!reader>
Warnings: <use of she/her pronouns, fluff, pining>
a/n: <NOT PROOFREAD, this was based off of a prompt i saw on pinterest lol, so creds to that>
⚠️ i will not allow anyone copy and pasting my work into any other social platform or site without consulting with me first ⚠️
꧁❦꧂
You entered the room confidently before sitting on the rich, velvet couch that stood before you. It was mere minutes before the interviewer would arrive, and being early was one of your main priorities.
Today was a bit different than the rest. Usually, you’d come to set along with Joseph, but he was no where to be seen. Yes, you called him multiple times, but he never picked up. You were afraid that he’d gone missing, or became very ill. Fortunately, his manager had called and said that he’d may run a bit late, as traffic wasn’t looking so good at this hour.
You sighed, relieved that Joseph was alright. For a while now, your feelings for Jo have increased, and made it clear to you personally that you had a crush on him. Honestly, it wasn’t a big deal, it was something you could easily contain. Though, there were times were you had to control yourself because Joseph looked too damn fine.
Being too caught up in your thoughts, you didn’t realize that Joseph had just entered the room and sat right next to you.
“Darling? You alright?” he asked, shaking your shoulder to set you back into this reality.
“What? Yea, i’m fine,” you said, shocked at his presence being so sudden. “I thought you were going to be a bit late? Your manager said you were in heavy traffic.”
“Mhm, I decided to just walk the rest of the way, so I payed the driver and strolled down the block in a fast pace,” he chortled, rubbing the back of his neck in a embarrassed manner.
“Well, I’m glad your here, Jo,” you patted the back of his shoulder, almost like a grandfather would to his children. “Jo, you look really nice today.”
Joseph smiled at the comment, as you shifted your attention in front of you. You couldn’t help but think about the jacket he was wearing. It smelt of rich leather, newly opened books, and his cologne. The amount of power his scent had on you was amazingly endearing. You could talk about it all day.
You opened your mouth to say something polite, but what came out was,
“You look like someone I’d very much like to kiss.”
The silence that overcame the room was so loud, that your heart beat was very clear to your ears.
You froze, your whole body suddenly stopped working. The amount of blood that rushed to your face was incredible. The sweat that dropped down your face profusely was quickly wiped by your now clammy hands. You breath hitched as you closed your eyes, unable to speak or make contact with anybody in the room, especially Joseph.
He sat beside you in awe, flattered with randomness of your comment. After looking at your face, he was pitiful.
“Surely she didn’t mean that,” he thought, amazed by how someone that he thought was considered superior to his league would say that. It’s almost like every night, he thinks of something like this happening. His confidence increased that any problems he could ever think of were now gone.
“Hey,” Joseph nudged your shoulder. You felt stiff as a rock, unable to move.
“Jo, I’m so sorry, my intrusive thoughts took over, and-“
“I think that you look very ravishing today as well. It’s almost like I have this urgency to kiss you this very moment,” he said. He said it so casually that it felt surreal.
“Jo, I-“ you were interrupted by the door opening, showing the interviewer for the morning. The both of you swiftly moved into an comfortable sitting position and started on with interview.
During the interview you couldn’t help, but glance up at Joseph as he quickly returned the loving gesture, leaving you a blushing mess. At one point, he slithered his hands in between yours, and caressed them. His hands were soft, yet rough, it was a comforting feeling. It certainly eased you into an relaxed state.
Though, the next day was a bit… different. You were woken up with far too many instagram dms. You were sent messages in all caps, talking about a video? You went into your search bar to go into google and looked up the video these messages were talking about. You saw multiple articles, tweets, and tik toks regarding the intimacy between you and Joseph.
“They already posted the video?!” you whispered, afraid to wake up the sleeping Joseph that slept quietly right next to you.
The next five minutes we’re spent scrolling through twitter and tik tok, talking about these moments between the two of you in the latest interview.
You set your phone down, and went back into the covers just to sneak up beside Joseph and snuggle into him. The sight before you made you feel extremely idyllic.
Let’s just say that these simple gestures had set the whole internet on fire.
꧁❦꧂
a/n: hey y'all! I rlly enjoyed writing this one!!! This one is 4 the Joseph girlies😁. Anyways, have good day (or night). Byeeeeeee
Reposts and requests are always welcomed! Make sure to go check ou my other stuff! My masterlist is linked at th top of the page! Thank you for reading my fan fic!
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pedgito · 1 year
Note
just saw an asks where you are talking about mean eddie mocking you and it did something to me lmao. could you elaborate on that with a little blurb. maybe ur riding eddie and it just feels so good that your legs give up on u and he is being mean and sarcastic about it till he takes the lead
author’s note: i couldn’t remember what i said about that so just enjoy really playful/mean eddie, this would’ve been longer but i’ve been struggling a bit lately, still i hope you enjoy!
cw: 18+ (minors dni) mean!eddie & mean!reader (but it’s all playful, slight dom!eddie (if you squint), protected sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare, if i missed anything lmk!
word count: 1.8k
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Eddie was an antagonizer in its purest form, never malicious but always with an endgame in mind. It would start as subtle teasing, off-handed comments that would have you retorting back in such a manner that Eddie couldn’t help but smile, knowing he’d get you back for it later.
He’d crowd behind you at your locker, hand clasped over yours where it’s gripping the metal and whisper against your ear, “Keep wearing stuff like that and I’m not gonna be able to handle myself.”
You could wear anything and Eddie would have the same response, but that was beside the point. His free hand slips into the open hole of your ripped jeans against your upper thigh and squeezes, forcing a surprised laugh out of you, muffling it with your hand as you ducked your head into your locker, elbowing him gently with your other arm.
It was an everyday occurrence now and you’ve learned the only way to shut him up is to react, even if you’d regret it later.
“What? So you can fuck me in the bathroom again?” You tease lightly, “A whole three minutes? I know you can do better.”
Eddie shrugs, “Can you blame me?”
His attraction toward you was never-ending and intense, something you’ve never experienced before him. Eddie was the kind of suffocating love you always wanted, soaking up every moment of it.
“Part of me thinks you like the idea of getting caught,” You smirk half heartedly, “kinda fucked up if you ask me.”
“You’re one to talk.” Eddie replies, ignoring your obvious jab.
You laugh softly, leaning forward until your lips are barely touching, eyes glaring into Eddie’s, “Is that what you want?”
Eddie makes a small noise of confusion, still playing into your act.
“You wanna fuck me, right here?” Eddie wouldn’t dare, he’s not that asinine, but he enjoys the back and forth, the deep fire in your eyes as you speak to him. Your hand tugs at the hem of his shirt, hand resting just above the belt of his jeans, twisting the shirt in your hands slightly before pulling him toward you abruptly, pressing a bruising kiss against his lips.
“Too bad,” You answer for him, “I need to focus on this English test,” Eddie scoffs, rolling his eyes—you were perfectly fine, up to aces with all of your work and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that you wouldn’t pass, “and Principal Higgins is watching us—so you should probably get to class.”
Eddie chances a glance to his left, realizing just how right you were. He looks back quickly, familiar smirk on your face as you pull away, reaching behind you to close your locker.
“Stay out of trouble?” You ask, tone soft and warm toward him.
“No promises,” He replies wearily, scratching at the side of his jaw, mindful of the eyes still watching you both, “everyone’s out to get me, remember?”
“You’ll stay out of trouble,” You assure him again, eyeing him briefly, eyes dragging from head to toe, “right?”
And he can see it in the look you give him, the salacious grin on your face. There would be consequences—or metaphorical consequences, not that he didn’t have a way to counter them, but he nods.
“Mhmm,” He agrees, nodding slightly. “Promise.”
But, promises didn’t always hold up and we’re bound to break at some point.
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And it’s no surprise when you find Eddie in after school detention with an even more shameful look on his face than earlier in the day, dragging his feet up to you in a leisurely manner as he wraps his arms over your shoulder, slung around you loosely.
“You never listen to me,” You complain with amusement, letting him press a light kiss into your hair, the smirk evident in his face even if you couldn’t see him. “Do you?”
Eddie thinks for a moment, briefly, “No.”
So, by later that night, it’s almost a constant back and forth, neither of you daring to break until Eddie gets his hands around your thighs, pulling you tight against him, burying himself even deeper.
“What was that?” He asks, a patronizing lilt in his voice, breath coming out in pants. “I didn’t hear you.”
“I can’t—“ You breath out, shoving his hands away weakly, “no more, Eddie, please.”
He’d already managed to make you come twice, quickly working his way into a third, his hips moving gingerly as he listened to you, though he was obviously enjoying your torture, his eyes lighting up at the feeling of your muscles twitching involuntarily under his touch, too weak to even raise yourself up onto your knees.
“Fuck—you really got a fuckin’ mouth on you when you like to think you’re in charge,” Eddie laughs slightly, “baby, that’s never the case.”
And even if that was true, you don’t really mind.
“Eddie,” You plead, hands shoved against his chest in an effort to push away slightly, “come on.”
“Do you really wanna stop?” Eddie teases, fingers slipping into the dip where your hips meet your pelvis and rocking your hips slowly, eyebrows knitting together in pleasure as your mouth drops open, a broken gasp leaving your lips.
Your eyes are barely open, riddled with exhaustion and hanging on by a thread.
“Didn’t think so.” He comments off handedly, “Look at me.”
You shake your head petulantly, lids falling shut as you breathe deeply, savoring the deep penetrating feeling of Eddie inside of you, hitting the spot that made your entire body ache, skin feeling white hot.
Eddie slaps your thigh lightly, a gentle warning.
“Hey,” Eddie chides, “you can handle it, right?”
It’s the same tone you used on him early, only countered toward you. He knew exactly how to get under your skin.
“Shut up.” You pout, blunt nails digging into his chest.
Eddie grunts softly, tutting his tongue against his teeth.
“S’not as sweet when you’re on the receiving end, is it?”
Eddie drives his point even further with a sharp thrust of his hips, hands squeezing impossibly tight against your skin.
Your mouth falls open further, which Eddie mimics in a way that drives you mad, face contorting into a mix of frustration and yearning, begging him to give it up—whatever act he was playing or devious plan he had in the back of his mind.
But, Eddie was stubborn.
“I know you wanna say it,” Eddie tells you, “Say it—say my name, sweetheart.”
You sigh heavily, head tipping back, “Fuck—Eddie,” Eddie makes a quiet noise of approval, “Eddie—“
“See how perfect you sound when all you can think about is me,” Eddie seethes, grunting as the rate of thrusts grew faster, forcing you to fall forward, hands digging into the soft fabric of the pillow, “so drunk on my dick you can’t think of anything else.”
“I’ve got plenty of thoughts in my head.” You retort.
Eddie huffs a laugh, daring you to challenge him.
His hands grip your own, clasped between his warm palms, his hips suddenly unmoving.
“Do it yourself then,” He instructs, “yeah?”
But, your body was entirely too weak, hips aching from the stretch and muscles screaming protest—you just wanted to rest, have Eddie wrap his body around you and lull you to sleep, but instead you were here, reaping the consequences of getting under Eddie’s skin all day.
Your movements are slow, without any real rhythm, just a desperate grind of your hips, seeking the friction.
And it’s frustrating, face again furrowing in annoyance as you rocked your hips jerkily, eventually giving up, slight frown on your face.
“Say you’re sorry,” Eddie says, “for teasing me, making fun of me—“
“God, you’re unbelievable—“
Eddie makes a pointed face, eyebrow quirking in amusement.
The smug bastard. He didn’t care for an apology, he just wanted the satisfaction of seeing your crumble under his will.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” You say in exasperation, “but Eddie, I can’t—I really can’t take anymore—“
Eddie nods, pulling you down toward his chest and flipping you in one slow, fluid motion, bodies never disconnecting.
“That’s all I needed to hear,” He smiles, leaning down to capture your lips in a deep, hurried kiss, hips moving quickly against you, his fingers finding your clit almost instantly and it’s all too overwhelming, body pliant to his touch but aching for release, “you still with me?”
You nod slightly, forcing your head deeper against the pillow, eyes shut in exhaustion as Eddie pressed himself against you, mouthing at random parts of your skin, delicate touches to remind you he was still there, his hand still an igniting pressure against your cunt, fingers working quickly over your swollen clit.
“Hey, eyes,” He nudges softly, squeezing at your thigh, “look at me, babe.”
You peek at him slightly, laughing at his righteous grin.
“Just one more,” He promises, his early words seeping back into your thoughts, “that’s it.”
And when it hits you, you don’t even have the energy to make a sound, mouth falling open as you grip at Eddie’s shoulder, bound to leave bruises from the tightness of it. He makes sure to carry you through until it’s all over, snapping his hips a few more times until it’s over for himself, having held out for longer than he’s used to—it’s guttural, the groan that escapes him, hands fisting in to the pillow beside your head to avoid squeezing you too hard.
“So, about those three minutes—“ You start lightly, attempting to wean Eddie back into consciousness.
“Had to prove a point,” Eddie explains through staggered huffs, “how’d I do?”
“Do I really need to answer that?” You ask profoundly, hair matted to your face from the sweat, chests touching with every breath you took.
“Just checking,” He chuckles, pressing a messy, closed mouth kiss over the tip of your nose, “gotta piss me off more often, sweetheart—this is pretty fun.”
“Fuck you.” You reply playfully, kicking him off weakly until he’s falling to his back on the mattress, “I can’t even feel my legs.”
Eddie disposes of the condom discreetly while you slowly slip your underwear back on, crawling back up the bed lazilyy until he’s flat on his stomach, hands reaching for the tender flesh of your thigh.
“Let me take care of you then,” Eddie smiles slightly, those his words are laced with dangerous undertone—it’s all teasing, but it earns a familiar look of warning his way, “I meant like, a massage or something. You know, not everything I say is dirty minded—“
You offer a pointed glance his way, seeing right through his bullshit.
“Okay, most of it is—but come on, let me.”
You sigh quietly, nodding in response.
His touches are just as gentle, if not more.
It’s a reminder of how well Eddie balanced all of it, the hard intensity of his exterior alongside the delicate personality woven on the inside—it’s nothing like you’ve ever experienced before, but it was everything you needed.
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Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡
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josephqxeddiem · 2 years
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EDDIE FREAKIN MUNSON.
MOST METAL EVER 🤟🏻🎸
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indouloureux · 2 years
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i’ve never seen any works or blurbs about drunk or high eddie :(( he’d be so clingy and worked up mghhfhdhdfff begging you to take care of the rock hard boner he just popped in the middle of the party
shkshsks okay okay
18+ mdni — handjob bc drunk eddie (consented but reader is still wary since, yknow, he's drunk), minimal sex talk lol, slight mommy kink bc eddie only says "mama" twice, cum eating
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"babe,"
drawled vowels said into a drunken slur, eddie slumps his entire body on your back. you yelp, drink almost spilling on your shirt, turning around to see his face all crimson from the alcohol and hair all slick from the heat between the bodies of horny teens. you place the cup aside, taking his face into your hands.
"eddie," you yell a little, lifting his head up. "what happened, baby?"
"look," he takes your hand off his head, shoving it down his crotch. your face widens, cheeks flaring because he's basically letting you fondle him in public. eddie's pressing your palm right on the bulge on his trousers, his gaze on yours half-lidded and glossy. "i've got a boner."
"i can feel it," you snort. "want some help? you're drunk, eddie."
"i consent!" he shouts. "i always consent to you. sober eddie says yes. drunk eddie," his voice lowers, leaning to whisper in your ear. "always says yes."
you take his hand. "alright. but it's gonna be quick honey, okay?"
you know he doesn't care, especially when all he does is grumble as a smirk comes up to his face, stumbling between the suffocating crowd as you pull him to the nearest (and vacant) bathroom nearby.
the door closes loudly, music muffled and your ears relaxing from the blaring sounds of tone-deaf people. eddie rests his hip on the sink, watching you lock the door before you rest your back to the wall beside him.
"alright, eds," you straighten your back, shaking your hands. "pants off."
eddie giggles. "yes ma'am,"
you watch as he fumbles with the handcuffs on his belt, his hands swatting yours away when you try to help. and when he's done, he's pulling it down until it's pooled around his ankles, and he's spared himself the painful tightness when eddie brought his briefs with his jeans on the ground.
the swollen mushroom tip of his cock slaps on his clothed stomach, a bit of precum staining his shirt. you feel your mouth water, his shaft all veiny and hard, and eddie's smirking at your stupefied reaction.
"go crazy, mama," he juts his hips.
you do. with a quick lick to your palm, your hand wrapping around from the bottom of his base until it swipes up to gyrate around his head. eddie grunts, loud, but still unheard from the party outside. "fuck, eddie. what's got you so hard?"
eddie reaches his arms out to pull you close to him, hands squeezing your ass as he throws his head back to the cupboard mirror. "this ass." he growls. "you know i'm always horny, honey."
his chuckle swiftly turns into a moan when your hand moves fast, the slick sounds of your saliva and his precum echoing around the small bathroom. there's a hot pool between your legs, clit throbbing at the way his veins press against the heating flesh of your palm as your other hand comes to fondle with the heavy sack beneath, balls full of cum.
"god, if you weren't drunk right now, would've given you a blowie," you bite your lip, thumb swiping over the slit on his helmet. "maybe you could have fucked me from behind too."
"but i consent!"
you squeeze his shaft, making him whimper. "and you're drunk. 'drunk eddie' gets a handjob." you move your hand faster, smirking when he keeps on letting out low gasps and grunts. "don't tell me what to do, alright,"
"alright, babe," his eyes roll to the back of his head, and you can see how red the tip of his cock's turning. you twist and fuck fist into his length. "fuck. i'm close, mama. ngh— i'm gonna cum!"
you don't stop until white ropes of cum shoot out to his shirt, some to yours and most of it onto your hand. eddie mewls as it spurts out, hand unstopping until nothing comes out and all you've left to do is lick the cum off your hand.
eddie moans quietly when you take each finger into your mouth, sucking longer when you're cleaning your thumb. needy, he pries your hands away and kisses you, his tongue right in your open mouth.
alcohol, weed, and pizza (you think), mingling with the taste of his cum on your tongue. eddie sighs against you, nose deep beside yours as he cups your face into his mouth, drinking you like you've got what he needs inside his mouth.
he breaks away, panting, chuckling softly. "think i just got sober, honey."
eddie wraps his arm around you, the other massaging your waist as you reach behind to pull on the tissue paper and wipe your shirts. "still not giving you a blowjob, babe," you wipe on his shirt, him pressing a kiss to your temple. "now help me remove this, please? you've got jizz all over you."
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likeregularcheetos · 1 year
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my jaw literally dropped holy shit who gave him the right what the fuck
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icallhimjoey · 3 months
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Here’s an idea: You’re out with Joe, and a couple of buddies. Joe’s immersed in a conversation but absentmindedly playing with your fingers. You notice. Maybe think of other soft shit he does unconsciously. Pure softness.
just... i know who you are, and you need to fuck all the way off, because how DARE you Wordcount: 2.2K
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Love Languages
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The best chats always happen at night. 
“Hey... hey Joe,” 
In bed, in the dark.
“Hmm?” 
When you’ve just laid down and turned the lights off and you’ve already kissed and said good night. When you’re meant to get comfortable, close your eyes and fall asleep. When there’s an alarm already set and when you’re not meant to be chatting. 
But you lead busy lives. 
These moments in bed are the most silent, undisturbed, and private moments you’ve got. When you’re alone, phones face down on bedside tables, and there’s no media to distract you from each other, darkness only fuelling the honesty.  
“Joe,” 
“Mmhmm,” 
You don’t fall into conversation every night. But when you do, they’re the best chats.  
“What do you think your love language is? Or mine?”  
Joe groans softly and rolls onto his back, eyes still closed, and he takes a moment to think as he inhales deeply. 
You’re on your stomach, facing him, both arms folded close to your body, hands underneath your pillow, and not tired at all. 
“It’s um...” Joe rubs a hand across his forehead, and for a short moment you think you’re annoying him. That he just wants to sleep and wants to be left alone. But then he says, “Yours is taking ugly pictures of me.”  
You immediately giggle, hiding your face into your pillow.  
“Ones where my hair looks fucking awful, and you’re not,” Joe stops to sigh, pretends to be all annoyed, then continues, “You’re not even taking ‘em, you’re finding them online and then save them onto your phone, I think that’s,” Joe breaks, can’t help but laugh himself now too. 
“Stop,” you try, grinning as you roll onto your side. “That’s not what I mean.”  
“No, I know, but I think that should be one of them. Because that’s definitely yours.” 
“No, but I mean from the–” you are about to delve in, list the five love languages, fingers at the ready for visual counting. But Joe interjects.
“That’s yours.” He says matter-of-factly, cutting you off.
“All right, thanks. Good night,” you pretend to roll over to go to sleep, and in turn make Joe laugh loudly.  
“No, okay. All right. What are they again? These love languages you speak of...” 
You’ve rolled back in an instant and feel like you’re a teenage girl at a sleep over, softly explaining the concept of love languages. The topic hasn’t just randomly popped up for you – you’ve been thinking about Joe’s love language all night. Or, well, love languages. Plural. You’re convinced there’s several. All of them maybe even.
Earlier that evening, when you went out for some drinks – just the quick one, Joe’d said, but it kind of turned into a slower three, maybe four drinks sort of situation – was when you’d started thinking about it.
Joe had been talking to a friend, a story you’d already heard, opinions shared that you already knew, so you weren’t really listening. Weren’t really participating in the conversation. Gave you the time to look around a second. To observe for a moment.
And Joe’s a fidgeter, you know that. Especially when surrounded by others, like right then, and evidently so.
You saw how he plucked at his jeans. How he kept playing with his sleeve. With his rings. How he kept slowly twisting the drink that was on the table in front of him. Kept rubbing at his chin and his cheeks. How his index finger scratched at the skin beside his thumbnail.
You’d only folded your hand over his to make him stop.
Without even breaking eye-contact with his friend, he moved his fingers to intertwine with yours and then just held your hand a second.
Then, he started scratching that same finger at your skin, and you’d tried to use your fingers to still his once more.
It worked.
Sort of.
It made him release your hand from his grip, but then instead, grabbed you by the wrist and held your hand there, on his lap, face neutral and attention not wavering from his friend.
His other hand found your rings to twist, your palm to softly move finger tips across, and your nails to push his pads under.
Touch.
It felt so obvious then that touch was Joe’s love language. He was always so tactile. Always reaching out, grabbing hold of you wherever and then holding on for however long you’d let him.
If that was a knee, then it was a knee. And if that was a foot, then it was a foot.
More often than not it was a hand though. A hand that got taken hold of.
It wasn’t unusual to wake up with a hand that curled around your neck. With an arm that rested across your collarbones, or had snuck under your T-shirt and splayed out on your back. With fingers that wrapped around a wrist, or the back of his hand that rested against your cheek.
Joe’s love language had to be touch.
“I think yours is touch.” you say softly, and you can see how Joe blinks a few times. Seems to think it over for a second, then raises both his hands to look at. Or to show you. Either way.
“I don’t think so?”
Um.
Excuse him.
What does he mean he doesn’t think so?
“I’m not touching you right now, am I?” he clarifies, and you scoff as you wiggle your leg that he keeps sandwiched in between his.
“I think this counts as touching,”
“That’s just,” Joe huffs, “That’s just me helping you out because you get cold feet.”
And it’s so silly, because it makes you laugh as you try to pull your leg out from in between his knees, but Joe just clamps down and fights against you. Uses his fingers to prod you in the ribs to make you laugh louder until you relax.
You know it’s touch.
But, what if it isn’t?
It could be gift giving too.
Not big gestures. No insane meaningful you-mentioned-months-ago-you-really-liked-this-diamant-ring-so-here-you-go sort of gift giving.
More the, I-got-myself-a-bottle-of-water-and-got-you-a-yorkie-because-you-like-those sort of gift giving.
Or the, I-got-my-dad-a-nice-bottle-of-wine-and-decided-to-get-you-one-too gift that he would then casually leave in your fridge.
Just little things that showed you that there were moments in the day where he thought of you.
And you had to stop telling Joe to surprise you when he asked if you needed anything from the shop, because the couple of times you had done just that, he’d just gotten everything he’d seen that he thought you’d like.
“Joe this is… this is just a full bag of ice cream?”
“Yes. And drinks.” he’d said as he let his body curl around you, arms strongly around your waist, chin planted on your shoulder.
You peeked into the bag and moved some things aside to have a better look.
“You got me- what the... you got me a whole bag of ice cream and alcohol…”
And he’d just shrugged a little sheepishly because, yea, he had. Because those were the things you liked, weren’t they? The premixed gin & tonic cans. The Häagen-Dazs caramel biscuit and cream pints.
Unbelievable.
But, could that count as acts of service? Because you’d asked him to surprise you, and just to satisfy your want for something unexpected from him, he’d gone and done just that for you... right?
Or did acts of service only count when you didn’t ask for them?
Like when Joe would see how you’d already curled yourself up into the corner of the sofa, all comfortable underneath a throw-blanket, phone in hand, but no mug of tea on the side table.
He’d just make you one then.
And exactly how you liked it too.
Would even silently take the empty mug after you’d finished it and make you a second one. Seal it off with a squeeze of your shoulder and a kiss on top of your head.
Sometimes it’d be larger stuff, like that one time he’d made you cry when you’d walked into your flat after work, expecting it to be in the messy state you’d left it in the night before. But when you’d left for work, Joe’d still been in bed, and before he’d walked out the door, he’d made sure to tidy the whole place.
He’d not done it right. Of course not. There were still things he’d misplaced that you considered lost, vanished into the ether.
But the fact that he’d put the effort in?
You walked in that day and immediately burst into tears. Had left him a crying voicemail in which you swore at him, called him all kinds of names and finished with a much softer and mumbled “I love you.”
Joe had just responded to it by sending a heart emoji and then that made you cry even more.
Idiot.
You knew your love language probably wasn’t words of affirmation. Obviously. Unless calling someone a dick for doing something nice counted as such.
Joe’s probably wasn’t words of affirmation either.
Although, sometimes... he just very randomly would say something so incredibly sincere and heartfelt, it would almost make you uncomfortable, would make you want to shut him up.
Like when you were out to dinner with your parents, and there was a short silence in conversation, like there naturally would be sometimes, and Joe felt it was the perfect time to let you know that he was proud of you, a hand sneaking under the table to squeeze at your thigh.
Or that time when you were sat in a cinema, everyone quiet, the room dark, all eyes on the big screen, and he’d leant closer to whisper how pretty he thought you were.
“Oh my God, shh,” you’d whispered back, already feeling the blush in your cheeks as he used careful fingers to swipe your hair behind your ear.
“Just thought you should know.”
Or sometimes, when you both had a bad day and were being short and snappy with each other, when you would kind of avoid each other, and would be stuck in sour moods, Joe would very suddenly let you know that he did actually still love you.
You once told him off for leaving all of his shit all over the place, nothing of it tidied away, and you had angrily started clearing things yourself. He joined you then, and it was just four angry hands throwing things around without much care until he suddenly stopped and grabbed your face in both his hands. Forced you to look at him, and God, you’d frowned so hard at him. Were so annoyed with him.
But then he had just said, “I love you.”
It made you look away, stubborn enough to want to hold onto the frustration, but Joe’d just followed your eyes, moved around to keep the eye-contact and repeated himself until you begrudgingly said it back.
“I love you too.”
“Good. Now go sit down. This is my mess to tidy.”
Although, all things considered, quality time was probably up there too if you had to choose one.
Like right now.
Chats in bed counted as quality time, surely. Just time spent together with no one else around. Silent conversations whilst faces pressed into soft pillows and bodies tangled under heavy covers.
“I think mine is maybe acts of service,” you say after some thought.
Joe has his eyes closed again and murmurs a soft, “Hmm.” as a hand snakes over your side and pulls you closer. You easily curl into him, nose to nose, breaths shared.
Yea, no. Touch. Joe’s love language is definitely touch.
“Maybe,” he then adds in a whisper.
You wait for him to explain himself, which he does. After a minute.
“Mmmno,” Joe slurs, and you know he’s about to fall asleep, everything slow and heavy, real effort needed to get the words out.
“It’s laughing at inappropriate times and then calling me,” he yawns, then continues, “And then calling me a dickhead.”
You huff a short laugh, and Joe can feel it on his face. He can’t help but smile, because he knows why that’s funny.
You only call him a dickhead when he is the one to make you laugh at inappropriate times.
And you would’ve fought him on it had you had the strength for it still.
But he’s sort of right.
“Hmm,” you hum, agreeing that laughing at his jokes and calling him names probably does count as your love language.
But his is definitely touch.
The proof is right there in the pudding, you think, as you feel a hand sneak under your top just to rest against warm skin for comfort.
And maybe yours is touch too, but on the receiving end.
“Hey,” you whisper so softly, Joe almost doesn't hear it.
He responds with a squeeze of his fingers.
The best chats always happen at night. In bed, in the dark. But this one, spoken in his love language might just surpass them all.
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The Taglisted
@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @chrissymjstan, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo
taglist currently full, sorry
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rues-daya · 2 years
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i want someone to look at me like the way Joseph Quinn looks at Jamie Bower, more specifically can that person be Joseph Quinn himself?
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talaok · 2 years
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Hey! Can you do one of Joe where he and the reader are shooting a movie together and they have to shoot a sex scene and they both end up horny? thankss
Pairing: Joseph Quinn x fem!reader
summary: Today's the day you have to shoot the infamous sex scene with your least favorite co-star, Joseph Quinn. And, even if you certainly didn't expect it, you find yourself confusingly turned on by it.
warnings: SMUT: unprotected sex
a/n: Sooo... I tried something here and it's probably not what you had in mind when you requested this, but I was tired of making the reader a simp, so.. here we are. I hope you'll still like it 
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THE PROPOSAL
You were so bored you thought you were gonna die. Today was the day. The set was closed. The unnecessary staff was sent home and you were in your trailer, wearing a rope with just underwear underneath, waiting for someone to call you and tell you it was time. You had to film the sex scene today. The director had been talking about it for weeks and so had your co-starts. You hated all the fuss around it. It was just pretend-sex, most of the time it was even fun. That was, of course, when the other actor wasn't a total creep, like the time you worked with James Franco and he kept touching you even when the cameras weren't rolling, or, when you didn't despise your colleague, just like this time, unfortunately for you. It's not that you hated Joseph Quinn entirely, it was just that he was so.... much. Like, he always had something to say or do and he was constantly joking or fidgeting and just being so annoyingly exuberant that you sometimes dreamed about taking his head in your hands and screaming at him to calm the fuck down. Ok, maybe you did hate him, but you sure as hell had your reasons, and it's not as if he liked you lots either. It was a miracle you two still hadn't torn the skin off of each other. from the moment you met at the table read, it was clear you couldn't stand each other, so you started avoiding him, as he did the same. You thought of yourself as a professional, and being one, you always treated him with respect when you shot together, smiling politely and pretending to not wanna roll your eyes at everything he said. A dream colleague, as to say. him, on the other hand, obviously wasn't a professional as much as you, since he definitely didn't hold back on eye rolls or snarky comments. but it was fine, you could look past that, you were an actor after all, and acting like you didn't want to punch him was a fairly easy job. The problem now was that today, you had to do a lot more than say a few lines to each other, Oh no. you had to pretend to have passionate and loving sex with him. Wich was a tiny bit diffrent. You had no idea how you were gonna do it. Being a good actress was something, but this... you needed to be Maryl Streep kinda good to do this. But there was nothing to do. you had tried talking to the director, telling him that perhaps the scene wasn't necessary, or that maybe it could have been done in a different way, without you in it, for example, but it hadn't worked, and so now, there you were. "Y/N, it's time" your assistant stated, as she opened your trailer's door. You took a deep breath "let's do this".
"there she is" Joseph said as you stepped on set "late as always" he whispered to you as you got next to him. You exhaled through your nose, already annoyed "Hi to you too" you said, giving him the fakest of smiles. You looked around. It was a nice set, It was supposed to be His character's (Adrian) bedroom. It looked like the inside of one of those little houses you find in villages in the mountains. The walls and roof were all wood, or at least, made to look like it. In the middle of the room was a huge bed with two wooden bedside tables on each side and there were about 10 candles lit all over the place, giving it a really romantic atmosphere "Ok guys, you know how this works" The director, Mark, said, stepping closer to the two of you. "There isn't a script for this scene because I want it to be as raw and real as possible. the only thing you have to remember is that you both love each other immensely" he explained enthusiastically. "Adrian just saved your life Maya!" he exclaimed, using your character's name. "And now, finally, you get to be with the man you love, and you, Adrian" he turned to Joseph " finally get to be with the woman you have longed and fought for so long" he said, obviously very into the narrative. "So I wanna see the passion, ok guys?" Mark asked. You and joseph turned to each other and raised your eyebrows "Of course" you answered in sync.
You took off your robe and placed it on your chair while also taking off your slippers. You took a deep breath and turned around, starting to walk towards the bed, but just as you did, you heard a stroked sound coming from your left. You frowned and turned around, just in time to catch Joseph's eyes scanning your whole body while his mouth opened slightly as he swallowed thickly, clearly hypnotized by your figure. You smiled to yourself, proud of the reaction you had caused, and pretended not to have noticed him, continuing to the bed. You got underneath the covers and set up against the headboard, waiting for him. He was talking to someone, probably his assistant and as she walked away he took off his robe and placed it on his chair, just like you had. You held your breath and bit your lower lip as your eyes took him in. How had you never noticed how fit he is? His arms were strong and his chest was big and muscular. He looked...hot. Wow, you would have never imagined finding someone you hated so much that attractive. But there you were, in complete awe of him. Your eyes traveled up his body once again, this time finding his. Oh no, you thought as you felt your cheeks redden. He smirked smugly and raised an eyebrow, walking towards you. "See something you like?" "Oh please, you wish" you lied, as he got in the bed. You were side by side, looking at each other, trying to get in character when Mark yelled action. You didn't have time to even process that before Joseph crashed his lips with yours in a passionate and rough kiss. It took you a second, but you started to reciprocate, granting his tongue access to your mouth, and pulling him closer by the back of his head. You moaned softly into his mouth and he put his hand behind your back and let it roam free. You whimpered at his touch, and as much as you would have liked to pretend you were reacting in character, that was all you. His hand traveled up to the back of your head and he took a fist of your hair, pushing your face against his. God, who knew he had it in him? Without warning and without breaking the kiss he got on top of you. "You're so beautiful" he murmured against your lips. You felt butterflies in your stomach and you swallowed thickly. God, get it together Y/N! You smiled at the compliment and intertwined your arms behind his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged, and pretended to position himself at your entrance. He moved some hair away from your face with a gentle caress and smiled genuinely. "I love you" he whispered. You looked up at him with heart eyes(You deserved an oscar after this) and whispered "God, I love you too Adrian", right before he pretended to push into you delicately. You moaned and started to move with him, simulating the act, making your tits bounce with each movement. You opened your eyes to look at him and saw how, just for a moment he broke the character, remaining amazed by the beautiful sound you'd just made. You internally grinned proudly, as you produced another moan, this time louder. "Oh, Adrian" you cried out, throwing your head back against the pillow and digging your nails into his back. You could see in his eyes how hard he was trying to concentrate, and you couldn't be happier about how hard you were making it for him. His eyes kept shifting from your breasts to your filthy mouth and he felt like if it weren't for the cameras pointed at him, he would have cummed there and then, and he hated himself for it. What was he, 13? But you were just too hot, there, moaning underneath him, biting your lip in ecstasy and shutting your eyes close from the pleasure. If this is what you looked like when you pretended to have sex, he couldn't imagine what you were like when you did it for real. You moaned again, this time even louder and he snapped out of his thoughts. Right, there was a scene to shoot. "God,Maya" he growled, sending a shiver down your spine. He sounded so sexy. he took your hands in his, pushing them against the mattress, and you couldn't help but wish for a moment that this was really happening, and that you weren't just shooting a corny sex scene. "cut!" Joseph didn't move. He looked at you and bit his lip, he opened his mouth to say something but closed it immediately again. You could see confusion across his eyes. You looked at him with the same stupor and swallowed nervously. "he said cut" "oh yeah, sorry" he said, clearing his trough and getting off of you. What just happened?
"hi" joseph said as he entered your trailer. Oh no, not again. You had just finished shooting the scene and it had been confusingly both the worst and the best thing ever. You needed to get away from him to get a clear head. I mean, it was impossible that you actually fancied him, right? you hated him. You hated him, you really did, but that, unfortunately, didn't exclude the fact that you still wanted to fuck him. Oh god, this was terrible. "Joe, listen I need to go home, so whether this is, can it wait till tomorrow morning?" you asked, getting up from your chair and taking your bag to show him you were being serious. " I just wanted to talk" "about what?" you asked annoyed "about before" You swallowed thickly "there's nothing to talk about" you stated, feigning confidence. "Oh, come on, don't pull that bullshit with me Y/N, I know you felt it too" he said, irritated. "What are you talking about Quinn?" you lied "Listen," he said, coming to stand in front of you" I'm not here to declare my love or any of that bullshit, all right?" You rolled your eyes, there was no point in faking naivete, he obviously had figured you out. "I have a proposal" he bit down a smirk. God, he was so hot and so punchable at the same time. "You let me fuck you this one time, so we can get it out of our systems, and then we can forget about it and go back to hating each other" You chuckled "You're kidding right?" "C'mon, I know you want it Y/N, don't play dumb now" he said irritated, as he brought his right hand up behind your neck. "just once" he placed his other hand on your waist " and then we'll pretend it never happened" he whispered against your neck. His hot breath sent tingles all over your body. You never had much willpower anyway. "Whatever Quinn" you mumbled as you let your bag fall to the ground and grabbed his face, kissing him roughly, your hands grabbing his hair and without doubt messing them up as he gripped your neck and forced his tongue into your mouth, all while stumbling towards the make-up table. You stopped once the back of your legs hit it and without breaking the kiss he leaned down and pushed everything that was on it onto the ground. You gasped, most of that stuff was really expensive. "get on there" he growled, and you did as told. He smirked and opened his mouth but you cut him off before he could say something stupid "Don't even start, I'm just horny" you breathed out."He laughed softly "Well, then that makes two of us sweetheart" he whispered before going back to kissing you. He was in between your legs and you could already feel his erection through trough his pants, so you started grinding against it, desperate for any kind of friction. The bastard grinned at your impatience and abruptly pushed your dress up, starting to caress and squeeze your ass, making you whimper into his mouth. You desperately started to tug at his belt, trying to get it off him. "I knew I was right" he smirked proudly and you rolled your eyes, taking the opportunity to catch your breath. "Shut up and fuck me" you exhaled as you put your hand behind his neck and pulled him down for a desperate kiss. "gladly" he purred as he undid his belt swiftly and pulled down his boxers and pants. He kissed you again, briefly before he moved your panties to the side and pushed into you completely, earning a clamorous moan from you. He smirked and, without even giving you the time to adjust started pounding into you aggressively, making the whole table shake. Everything he hadn't thrown off of it before was now falling on the ground, and probably you would have hated yourself for it tomorrow, but that was a future you problem, present you, was getting fucked out of her mind and had other things to think about. "Lemme see your tits" he said as he grabbed the top of your dress and pushed it downwards, revealing your breasts. He groaned "Fuck yeah", as he continued thrusting into you. "Oh my fucking god Joe!" you shouted as he leaned down to take your right tit into his mouth, and started sucking on it. He took your nipple into his mouth and softly bit it, as his left hand made its way to your clit and started massaging it. You were moaning so loud you were certain people outside could hear, but who cared. "Oh god, please Joe" you cried out as he kept sucking, thrusting, and massaging. This man obviously knew what he was doing. "I-I-I'm gonna cum" you moaned as he let your breast go from his mouth, spread your legs more, and pounded into you even harder, smugly looking straight at you, making your eyes roll in the back of your head. "That's right, cum on my cock Y/N, make me feel how good you can squeeze me" he groaned. "Oh fu-fuck" you stuttered as he sped up his hand's movements. You felt a familiar pressure form your lower belly. He groaned at the feeling "Oh fuck you feel so f-ucking good" he hissed, clearly close too. You were getting closer and closer. "Cum for me baby" he grunted. and you did, a wave of pleasure overwhelmed you as you threw your head back and your eyes fluttered shut while you shouted his name. Joseph groaned loudly at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. "Shit Y/N" he whispered, as he continued pushing into you, making you ride out your high. Just as you came down from it his thrust became sloppy, he was about to come. "O-Oh,f-fuck" he groaned as he pulled out of you at the last second and his cum shot onto your belly and dress. That was gonna be hard to clean. He exhaled deeply and put his head on your shoulder. You stayed there for a few moments. Just silently catching your breath and taking in all that had just happened. He chuckled "that was fun" "it was" you agreed He pushed himself off of you and pulled his pants and boxers up. "I still don't like you" you reminded him. "Oh, don't worry. The feeling's mutual" he grinned.
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Bet On Me (one-shot)
Synopsis: There's a few bets going around: Y/N bets everything on the fact that Eddie is innocent, Eddie still thinks that he's a coward, and the kids want to know when Eddie will finally ask Y/N out. And Steve... Steve is just over it.
This is sort of an AU! because I refuse the ending we got. ABSOLUTELY NOT!
Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Cheerleader!Reader
Genre: a lot of fluuuuufff, some angst
Warnings: SPOLIERS FOR SEASON 4!, a lot of pining, cursing, mentions of blood and injuries and death, Eddie feeling very low and guilty of himself (someone give my poor boy a hug). I can't think of anything else, but please let me know if there is something I should add here.
Word count: 3773
DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE MY WORKS ON OTHER PLATFORMS WITHOUT SPECIFIC WRITTEN PERMISSION!!!
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The second the doorbell of Family Video rang at 12:34 PM during the Friday shift, Steve let out the most resigned sigh he could muster, because he knew who it was and what was gonna happen. The sound of the chains, of the stomping steps and the incessant tapping of palms against thighs in some indiscernible rhythm didn’t give Steve any other illusions history was going to repeat itself. All over again.
“Heyo, Stevo,” Eddie dragged out the name, plopping his elbows down on the till counter with a flourish. “So. Any new movies?”
But Steve was absolutely done this time.
“Stop.” He waved his hand in front of Eddie, not even deigning to answer the question. “Stop. Just stop this whole thing. You’re not here for the movies, you’re here because in just a couple more minutes, Y/N Y/L/N will walk through those doors to give back her previous week’s rentals, and it will give you your opportunity to just gawk at her, even though you actually want to ask her out. So just stop with this lame excuse, man up and ask that girl out on a damned fucking date already. You've been doing this for weeks, man, weeks. I know trauma brings people together and shit, and I cannot believe I’m saying this, but I do consider us friends, but even that has, limits because if I have to hear one more time any sort of groaning and moaning from you about Y/N, and still you’ve done nothing to change the situation, I will personally find a way to open the Upside Down back again and throw you through it, because God damn it, Munson, you will deserve it.”
Eddie, for once in his life, was truly and utterly speechless, watching as Steve’s chest heaved after the rant.
“Shit, Harrington, tell me how you really feel,” he mumbled looking at the countertop, drumming his fingers against it.
“Look.” Steve took in a deep breath and let it out, calming down a bit. “I get that you’re scared, okay? I do. Before I asked Nancy out, I thought I was gonna shit bricks, but the worst thing that could have happened is she could have said no.”
“No,” Eddie countered, pointing at him. “The worst that could happen is Y/N could start laughing in my face, tell the basketball team the freak of town asked her out, and sic those psychos on me again because there’s a difference between you and Nancy and Y/N and me – first we run in different social circles. You and Nancy were the King and Queen of Hawkins before even getting together; you were equals. Y/N... she’s a cheerleader, for Christ’s sake… while I’m the banished nerd, and second… you were never accused of murdering Nancy’s best friend, and still have those rumours fly around even after being vindicated.” That last bit was whispered, and to that, Steve had nothing to reply.
Y/N and Chrissy had been thick as thieves before everything went wrong with the Upside Down, but even Y/N hadn’t known she was struggling despite Chrissy looking up at her as her big sister just about to graduate her senior year. They seemingly had told each other everything, and yet she hadn’t known Chrissy was in such a bad place, she was willing to try drugs to ease the pain.
Even so, even after her body was found in the Munson trailer, not for a second Y/N had believed Eddie had had anything to do with her best friend’s death. For fuck’s sake, Chrissy’s eyes had imploded! How would someone who spent their evenings writing out a character sheet for a fantasy game be able to do that?But despite knowing that, Steve couldn’t deny how people still avoided Eddie like he was the actual plague.
“She tried to stop Jason from coming after you, you know,” Steve piped up, which made Eddie look at him. “Tried to talk some sense into the rest of the team to not come after you, countered whatever he said at the town meeting the night people decided to hunt you down. Y/N never believed you hurt Chrissy, would never, as you said, sic anyone on you. I’m pretty sure she’d fight tooth and nail against that. That has to count for something.”
Eddie’s heart clenched at Harrington’s words. Knowing she’d stood up for him was one thing. Knowing she’d done it in front of the whole town while they were ready to lynch him was another. But still… doubt was like one of the demobats, lurking around the corner before striking with fangs and claws.
When he’d been pulled from the Upside Down, bleeding from every possible crevice of his body, Eddie didn’t think he’d make it, and in some masochistic way, thought he shouldn’t make it. He still blamed himself for what’d happened to the sweet cheerleader he’d left mangled in his trailer. Maybe if Chrissy hadn’t gone to him, maybe if he’d told her he wouldn't sell drugs to her, maybe if he’d gone to literally anyone else and informed them about what she wanted, Chrissy could have been saved. So maybe he didn’t deserve saving either, but the rest of the gang had other plans. 
Steve and Nancy had made a sling from the sheet he'd cut, tying Eddie’s barely conscious body to the other man’s back, and Robin and Nancy boosting them through the gate, before helping a limping Dustin as well. Then it was a race against time to get Eddie the help he needed.
Their group was a hurricane as they borrowed, or more like stole, Max’s mom’s car and rushed to the hospital, Dustin screaming at Eddie to stay awake while Robin kept yelling for Steve to push on the gas with Nancy attempting to staunch the bleeding by putting tourniquets where she could or simply pressing down on the wounds where she couldn’t.
It wasn’t much better when they finally reached the place, all of them screaming for someone to help Eddie, only to start giving directions to the ER team once they arrived as if they were medical staff themselves.
“I’m 0 negative,” Nancy breathed, pulling at her sleeve and rolling it up as far as she could as nurses called for a doctor and the rest helped place, Eddie, on a gurney, Steve also instructing for someone to check on Dustin’s bad ankle, who just diverted them back to Eddie. “A universal donor. He’ll need blood. He – he – he’s lost a lot of blood, he’ll need it.”
“Miss, you need to be checked as well.” A nurse tried to guide her to a different bed, but she ripped out from her grip. “Why don’t we do that before –,”
“I said I’m 0 negative.” Nancy’s tone had turned into a sneer as she stared the nurse down. “Either you take the blood, or I can do it myself.” The nurse had taken a step back from her, the determination in the young woman’s eyes didn’t leave room for arguing, so she just nodded and escorted her to a quieter place.
It took Eddie about two days and four blood transfusions to regain consciousness, despite his wounds being shallow, he'd lost a lot of blood, but his newly found friends were all there for him. 
Steve took care of the food, Nancy made sure someone always remained by Eddie’s side as she set up rotations, while Robin had informed Eddie’s uncle about the situation, but it wasn’t just them. 
Dustin with his bad leg, Lucas with his beaten-up face and even Mike who’d arrived back in Hawkins with El, Will Jonathan and Argyle in tow – all of them were there for Eddie, even going after the police as they’d handcuffed their Dungeon Master to the bed seeing as he was still the prime suspect of the murder of the Queen of Hawkins High. Max had even almost taken one of her crutches and smashed in an officer’s face, but Joyce and Hopper had busted in before that could happen, and despite everything, Eddie had smiled harder than ever. He’d never felt so loved in his life than in that moment.
However, once the presumed-dead ex-chief of police took the reins with a government agent who'd brought them to Hawkins, they were somewhat able to spin Chrissy’s death as Jason’s fault, especially because the other teen had died during the earthquake that’d hit as the aftermath of the gang having beaten Vecna, the Upside Down slowly crumbling in on itself, while the Creel house fell apart, Jason’s body never to be recovered.
The story they settled on was this – the basketball player had seen his girlfriend meet up with Eddie in the woods, and then he’d followed her later on in the evening to where they converged in Eddie’s trailer. Jason confronted the two, his jealousy being a known issue, and that’s when Eddie had left, leaving the couple to resolve their issues on their own, only to return a while later to find Chrissy dead, which prompted him to run in fear of his own life. Max Mayfield was set to be the prime witness to vouch for him, which she did no questions asked.
With the agent's help, they made sure it was a story the whole town, hell the state of Indiana was aware of as well. Of course, some was sceptical, some outright refused to believe anything of the sort, yet the police could do nothing but release Eddie from any charges and drop the case. But that didn’t minimize Eddie’s nightmares, nor did it erase the new scars littering his body courtesy of the Upside Down, and neither did it ease the guilt for leaving Chrissy, so hearing Y/N defend him, believing the lie they’d spun about how her best friend met her end, made his stomach churn. 
She deserved to know. If anyone deserved to be aware of the truth, it was Y/N, which should probably be at the top of his confession list, but his spiral was interrupted when Steve cleared his throat, eyes trained on something over Eddie’s shoulder.
“Umm, you two okay?” A voice from behind him startled the boy, making Eddie whizz around only to be greeted by a smiling Y/N. “I’m here to bring the movies back?” The girl waved the VHSs in her hands looking at Steve. “That is if you still want them.”
Steve sighed nodding in her direction and she took it as her confirmation to step next to Eddie by the counter. “Yes, please. Don’t need three more deducted from my pay-check this month.”
Tentatively Y/N looked at Eddie and gave him a soft ‘hi’, before turning back to Steve, leaving Eddie to his gawking. “What got snatched?”
“Jaws 3-D,” Steve grumbled.
“Shit.” Y/N chuckled. “And not even the good one.” 
He scoffed, hitting the till and giving Y/N the receipt. “Tell me about it.”
“You – uh,” Eddie cleared his throat, eyes shifting from his clasped and wrung hands to Y/N’s eyes. “You’ve seen Jaws?”
“Uh, yeah.” She nodded, smiling softly. “I really like horror and thriller, actually. Well, maybe not anymore.” Her smile turned into a painful grimace. “Don’t think I can stomach anything like that after everything that’s happened. At least not for a while.”
“That’s fair.” Eddie nodded along to her words. “Yeah, no, completely understandable.”
“Mhm,” she hummed, nodding along as well as an awkward silence settled. 
Eddie looked up hoping for Harrington to interrupt them, but Steve was nowhere to be seen, having left the two to talk on their own. The once super senior cursed him for it, giving him no other choice but to continue on with the conversation, but then again – maybe Steve was right. And Eddie wouldn’t say that lightly.
He thought of himself as a coward. He’d run the second danger appeared and only stopped when Dustin, someone he really truly cared about, was in grave danger, but Y/N hadn’t. Not for a second, despite the fact she had everything to lose, despite the fact that Hawkins could turn on her, making her become the new town pariah, she’d stood by Eddie’s side without ever really knowing him. She’d bet on his innocence and won, even though she really didn’t know it was true. So maybe, he could be as brave as she was.
“Hey,” Eddie started and had to avert his gaze when Y/N’s Y/E/C eyes bore into his. “Would you – and I mean you can definitely say no, like no pressure whatsoever – but like, would you want to go out… with… me?”
Y/N raised her brow, a gentle smile playing on her face. “Like on a date?”
“It doesn’t have to be!” he immediately said and cursed himself for backtracking. “We can just be two people who just so happened to go to the same place to do the same thing at the same time… with one another.”
Y/N sucked in the air through her teeth, and that motion alone made Eddie’s heart drop. “I mean that does sound like a date, which I totally would go for, but I gotta say no right now.” 
Of course, she’d say no. 
“But.” 
What? 
“If you ask me in like…” Her gaze drifted to a calendar hanging over by the wall, mouth moving as she counted. “Six days, I’ll say yes.”
Eddie was prepared for rejection, but not that sort of a rejection, leaving him dumbfounded. “Umm… okay? Can I – can I ask why?”
Y/N chuckled. “Robin told me your little Hellfire minions and Max have a bet going on when you’ll muster up the courage to ask me out.” The smile on her face turned mischievous. “I sort of want Max to win. She was the only one who said you’d do it before the end of the month. And I want the boys to suffer with how close they got. So, I’d say two birds, or I guess three birds with one stone – we get to go out on a date, Max puts the guys in their place, and they learn not to mess with you.”
“You – you knew I wanted to ask you out?”
Y/N shrugged, fiddling with a bracelet on her wrist. It was her turn to become bashful and nervous. “I mean, I hoped it wasn’t them just making things up.” Uncertainty flashed in her eyes as she shuffled on the spot. “And now I’m sort of hoping you’re not in on this bet, and this isn’t gonna blow up in my face.”
“Yeah – I mean no!” Eddie grabbed onto her shoulders as he fumbled with his words. “This – I had no idea those shitheads had bet on whether or not I’d ask you on a date, but – but they’re right… I uh… the only reason I’m actually ever here is to uh, see you, and well, maybe get the courage to ask you out.” Eddie’s laugh was both out of astonishment and excitement. “Can’t believe those little gremlins bet against me after everything though.”
Y/N mimicked his laugh and bit her lip. “Okay then… I’ll uh, I’ll see you in a few days then? Hopefully it won't take you as long to ask me this time.”
Eddie’s ‘yeah’ was a breathless response, but nevertheless, a confirmation, as he stared at Y/N like she was a Sindarin elf straight from Lord of the Rings while she pointed at Steve who’d now magically appeared back at his station with a satisfied smirk on his mouth, startling Eddie so much he jumped back. “You tell this to Dustin, you’re dead meat much like your paycheck. I still have Sixteen Candles and Nightmare on Elm Street as hostages.”
“Come on, Y/N” he groaned, throwing his head back. “They’re my children! They’ll know I’ll be lying!”
“Then they’ll be the ones carrying your casket, so choose wisely.” 
With that Y/N gave Eddie one final glimmering smile and skipped to her car. If Eddie still had one after everything, he’d be skipping to it too.
But when six days later, he was disturbed by a knock at the door, as Y/N had called him the day before to set it up in a way the kids could witness their talk, he wanted to bury himself six feet below and in that casket, Y/N mentioned to Steve. 
Filled with nerves and jitters, he went over and pushed the doors open only to be greeted by a beaming Y/N as she glanced over her shoulder where he spotted Max ducking back inside her trailer while he noted a bunch of tiny heads watching from below the kitchen window curtain.
God, he was gonna throw up, he couldn’t believe what he was about to say to his dream girl.
“So...” She turned back to look at him. “Ready to ask me something?”
In all honesty, he was sort of glad, that she said he could ask her out only six days later, it gave him more time to mull over those thoughts in his head, and come to the conclusion that yes, he could do it and help out Max by winning the bet, but he’d never subject Y/N to the kind of scrutiny this town would put her through if they so much as had a whiff she’d been in the ten-mile radius around him, no matter her previous stance during the hunt.
“Look...” Eddie sighed, stepping down to be level with her. “You really don’t have to do this. We can go over, say I did it, and then Max can win, but we don’t have to go out on that date. I – I can’t make you go through that.”
As he said those words, he noted how Y/N’s smile slowly dropped, and if there was something Eddie hated more than the Upside Down, it was that.
“Eddie, I’m not here just because of the stupid bet the kids have going on. Honestly...” She crossed her arms and let out a deep breath as if steadying herself. “When Robin told me you wanted to ask me out, I didn’t believe her. Thought it had to be some stupid prank on your part with the rest of Hellfire, and when she said about the bet, that even confirmed it more. I mean what would a guy like you want to do with a girl like me, right? You hate cheerleaders, hate anyone that has to do with conformity and shit, so you had to have something Carrie-Esque planned for me.”
Eddie was just about to interject, especially at the notion he could ever humiliate her in that way, but Y/N kept on talking. “But then she said how you’ve been going to Family Video, how you’ve been bugging Steve and how Steve wouldn’t stop complaining about you to her, and so I took the chance that maybe, just maybe, it’s not a prank, but that you actually like me… so when I heard that rant you went on the other day, I knew it was real for you.”
He had to take an actual step back at her words. “You heard?”
“Yeah, I did. And I want you to know I never believed that you could ever even think about hurting Chrissy. Not once. You’re too good for that, too kind to ever hurt someone like that.”
Eddie’s eyes softened at her words. “You think I’m kind?”
“You put on this tough, metal-head act,” Y/N smiled at him and shrugged. “But… you literally took those kids under your wing, because you knew what it was like to be bullied, and didn’t want that happening to them too, taking on the brunt of whatever Jason and his goons threw your way. You’re not just kind – you’re brave too. You’ve stood up against a town that was ready to hang you. That’s bravery on a level I could never have.”
“You’re brave too.” Eddie instantly interjected, ready to reach for Y/N’s hands, but stopped himself, rubbing the back of his neck instead, fearing he might overstep a boundary. “You – I mean, you literally heard Steve tell me how you told the town to piss off my back about Chrissy when literally you had no evidence, I hadn’t hurt her. I was the prime suspect, yet you – you went against Jason and everyone else for someone who didn’t deserve it.”
“Yes, you did. I might not have been there, nor do I have any physical evidence, but I know, I know in my heart you didn’t lay a single finger on her.” Y/N stepped closer to him, putting her palms on Eddie’s face and rubbing her thumbs underneath his eyes. He hadn’t even noticed he’d started crying. 
Eddie's words were nothing but a whimper. “But I left her there.”
“No one knew Jason was gonna do such a thing.” Y/N shook her head, brushing her fingers along his cheekbones. “And I don’t blame you. It was Jason’s fault… and as horrible as it might sound, I’d rather you be alive than have had the same thing that happened to Chrissy happen to you. That asshole got what he deserved. So, Eddie, let me say this again, and however many times you need me to – you. Are. Good. You are not a coward. And you deserve all the love in the world.”
A teary chuckle escaped him, as he leaned into Y/N’s touch. “Well, then would you give me the biggest honour in the world and please go out on a date with me?”
“Yeah,” Y/N said, beaming at him, a stray tear slipping down her own cheek, which Eddie carefully wiped away. “I’d really love to. And I know who’ll be paying for it.”
Eddie chuckled, pressing his forehead against hers, and her grin widened as he slowly reached for her hands and intertwined their fingers. “You really gonna bully Max for the bet money?”
Y/N scoffed squeezing his palms, thumbs rubbing over his rings. “I’m not heartless. I’m gonna bully the rest of the kids for not having enough faith in you. Seems fair enough.”
“Can I – can I kiss you?” Eddie’s voice trembled, but it shouldn’t, as Y/N leaned up herself and pressed their lips together in a sweet and slow kiss.
The collective ‘NO’ from the boys and a female cackling from Max’s trailer just added to the joy of the situation. Some bets were lost, some bets were won, but ultimately Eddie felt like the true winner. The girl of his dreams had taken a chance on him despite everything. 
And now he was gonna be brave.
He was gonna love her until the very end.          
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A/N: I know I haven't written in AGES, but so many things just got in the way, I didn't have the time to but I have already like 4 other Eddie fics in the works.
EDDIE DESERVED BETTER!!! AND JOE QUINN IS AN ICON!!!!
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lovejosephquinn · 1 year
Text
Don't mind me, just writing my morning Christmas Eve horny thoughts down 💀
Under 18's DNI.
It was quite obviously the middle of the night, the darkness surrounded you tucked up in bed with your boyfriend. You stirred from the sound of muffled whimpers beside you, the slight sound of movement beneath the quilt. Keeping your eyes shut and listening for a minute, you hear what seems to be spit being lathered onto the length of Joe's cock, he smoothers it down from the base and upward making his body tense up, a slight hitch of a moan loudly erupts from his throat and your eyes shoot open as you start to feel the way his fist pumps slowly up and down. Fuck.
You're turned on your side facing him so you edge forward so your mouth's inches away from his ear. "You need some help baby?" You whispered in a low, seductive tone. Joe could feel your presence, a smirk falling onto his features as he felt your hand creep over his, enveloping around his fingers, moving with him. "I d-didn't want to wake you and I couldn't stop thinking about the way your tight little cunt feels when I fuck you." Joe muttered, the deep resonance of his voice showed he had been asleep, but had clearly woke up with a stiff and incredibly hard erection, fantasising about you.
"Let me touch you." Joe's hand instantly released his shaft into yours, you spat onto your hand quickly and mixed your spit into his, skimming your finger tip over his leaking head, Joe bit down on his lip, crumbling underneath the soft touch. "Fuck Y/N, yeah touch me like that."
Your fist now gripped around his length, feeling every vein popping out, enjoying the way his hardness twitched in your contact. Jerking his cock in a swift, fast motion. You stopped. "B-baby don't stop."
"I'm not." You exited downward, the sheets devouring you as you took the tip of his cock between your lips, sucking harshly, making his hips buck up and a couple more inches entering your mouth.
"Mmm, you're such a naughty girl, suck my cock for me." Joe's head fell backward, his eyes rolling, his mouth gaping open as you didn't waste a moment in taking every inch of him inside, his hand grabbed your hair, pushing it up into a ponytail whilst saliva leaked out of the corners of your mouth, the moment you felt the tip hit your tonsils, your choking noises cloaked from the bed covers, the movement of your head sliding up and down. You moved down to his balls, caressing them with your tongue, nibbling on the loose skin and taking them one by one in your mouth, sucking rampantly and slipping them out with a pop sound.
Licking a stripe up from the base and back to the tip, Joe could barely hold on not a few minutes longer. "Let me fuck that slutty little mouth, my cock's aching to cum down that throat of yours. You want my cum baby?"
You smiled against his tip, your lips brushing and he could feel you nodding slightly. "Good fucking girl, open your mouth wide."
You did just as he said and his hand pushed you downward in one fell swoop, your eyes watered as he took you to your limit, gagging against the base of his cock, your tongue lapping around it, Joe's moans were flying everywhere which made you hum with your mouth full. "Yes, yes, yes. Take my cock, take my fucking cock."
His hips thrusted upward, deepthroating you only once more until his cock began to spew pools of cum into your mouth, trickling down your throat as you swallowed the lot, his hand releasing you whilst you rid him through his high, his body spasming, toes curling and within the darkness, Joe could see stars in his vision.
You came back up to where you previously lay. "Thank you my love." His lips found yours amongst the pitch black, tasting the saltiness on your tongue, his cock softening yet still throbbing from the intensity of the orgasm you unleashed upon him.
"Turn over, I need my little spoon." Joe moved his arms around you, caging you to him, a slight sigh of contentment fell from his mouth, he could go back to sleep happily knowing that when he woke again, his cock would probably be buried inside your cunt, fucking up into your walls fast and erratically, hearing the memory of your moans as you attacked his neck when he leaned down to thrust hard, he'd let his imagination begin to run wild once again until that moment came.
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