#joseph quinn fanfiction

[icallhimjoey]

Reinvent Love

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: You and Joe are treading new waters. You’re no longer flatmates, but still close. More than friends, but nothing defined. Nothing labeled. Determined to not lose what you have, though. But, can you?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, jealousy, accusations, soft fluff, season 3 of my flatmate!joe

Author’s note: we got trouble in paradise !!!!! same sidenote once more: you don’t need to have read define close or explain us, but it’ll obviously give you backstory, which might help!

Wordcount: 3.8K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Excruciating, if he thought about it too long. Fine, if he just sucked it up and went with it. If he didn’t spend hours and hours and hours of his time stuck inside his own head, it was fine.

Your pace.

He was going to have to go with your pace.

If Joe was going to win this... contest he was having, mainly with himself, he was going to have to stick to your pace. Like he had done before. And yea, it was slow. Maybe even stagnant most days. But he had always let you take the lead and had always let you find new normals between the two of you.

It had worked like that when you lived together, and it was going to have to work like that now that you no longer did.

Was it awful?

Yes.

Because in which direction were you even moving? Joe had no idea. You might as well have been going backwards, there was no way for him to tell, and it was eating Joe alive. But he was just going to have to deal with it.

Your lead. Your time. Your pace.

With your new flatmate, your inside-the-flat behaviour had drastically changed. What was once the exact location of all the intimacy was slowly turning into a place that resembled outside. Where strangers were (Josh). Where people could perceive you (Josh).  

The safety was gone, a little.

When you stirred awake after falling asleep on your sofa, and Joe was still sat by your feet, casually holding onto an ankle still, the first few seconds of seeing him there made you smile. He was watching TV, which was showing something you hadn’t put on, and the changing lights that illuminated him gave you a good look at his profile. At the curve of his nose. At his slightly parted lips. His tongue working along his teeth. Along the inside of his cheek.

God, he looked fucking perfect.

Even with his hair too short and unstyled.

Even with his tongue pushing his face into weird expressions.

You got to wake up slow, felt like you’d been out for over an hour, easily, and loved the little fragment you got of how things used to be. Just the two of you on the sofa. TV on. Soft touches. No one else there to make it weird. To ask questions. To give looks.

Just closeness and gentle affection, a touch of protectiveness as you were being held by the ankle as you’d napped.

But then you heard a kitchen drawer close behind you, and you immediately balled up in a knee-jerk response. You pulled your feet right from Joe’s lap as you tucked in your knees. Ripped your ankle right from his grasp.

And it was silly.

It was just your feet.

Josh likely would’ve seen them on Joe’s lap already.

He would have had to have let Joe in too. You remembered the key you had meant to slip back into his coat pocket but had forgotten about.

All Josh really knew about Joe was that he used to live in the flat, and that you still remained good mates. Close friends. Sort of flatmates still, but not, because, location.

You had gone through every which way of describing you and Joe whilst trying to remain an air of casualness.

Yea, Joe would still come over a lot, since you were friends, you know? Normal stuff.

But then your friend had gone, “Ha. Yea, all right. Good mates. That’s one way of describing it.” Like she’d known anything – she didn’t.

She had no idea.

Not a clue.

She couldn’t have, because you and Joe weren’t like you and Joe were around others.

You didn’t blame her, but you’d quickly changed the subject anyway. Swiftly moved onto a different topic. Asked Josh if he liked pizza, because you had pizza a lot in this flat. Josh did like pizza. But, only without any cheese on. “I’m vegan.” You didn’t think that technically even counted as pizza. But, sure.

It was just your feet.

And it was just Josh in the kitchen, likely not even paying attention to where your feet were.

You realised it a second too late though. Your knees had already been tucked in, and Joe’s face had already fallen. You could see how his eyes darted from you to your new flatmate over the back of the sofa a few times.

In a bid to save yourself, to save the situation, you straightened your legs again and pushed both feet into Joe’s thigh. Masked it as a tired post-nap stretch and smiled through a yawn, doing your best to move on as quickly as you could.

Unbeknownst to you, there had been some quiet conversation going between Joe and Josh. Soft spoken words, no louder than the TV, but not quite whispers either. Voices hushed and kept low because, she’s asleep. And she’d come home and looked like her Friday had lasted a whole month, Josh had chuckled as he picked up the empty pizza box, tidying up.

Joe had scrunched up his eyebrows and couldn’t help his little pout as he’d cast his eyes down to look at you.

“Yea, the pizza sort of gave it away.” He’d said, and for a moment, Josh’s mind swam as it tried to make sense of what Joe’d just said.

And Joe saw, but he didn’t really want to explain it. Didn’t want to tell him that, pizza sort of meant a lot. It was just food, and not even your or his favourite, but there was comfort and routine and pizza sort of belonged to the two of you.

Pizza was yours.

Josh didn’t need to know that.

“Oh, no, this was mine – I had this.”

And, oh, my God, Joe could really fucking kick himself for thinking the worst.

In casual chat, Joe puzzled it together. You’d gotten home. Seemed annoyed. Tired. Overall just in a terrible mood. And Josh had offered you a bite of his pizza – the one he was already eating when you’d walked in. And you’d looked at it for a second and then had gone, “Not hungry. Thank you though.”

Joe was the worst.

He watched you sleep and you looked so peaceful. So soft. He was the actual worst person ever. Drawing conclusions where there wasn’t even anything to be drawn in the first place.

Joe watched you as Josh quietly cleaned the kitchen. Listened as he complained about not being able to open the window in his ensuite, how it would get stuck all the time, and asked if Joe knew anything about that. Joe didn’t tear his eyes away from you as he said, “Yea, she was meant to get that fixed, but ended up just opening the bedroom window to air the room out.”

Your cheeks were slightly blushed, and you sounded a little congested. Joe could hear your breath rumble a bit, like it was getting stuck in your chest. Start of a cold, maybe, he thought, and he knew that it was probably one more thing that had added to all the bad today. All the bad that had made you text him to come over.

To fix it.

And he fucking loved fixing it.

Joe wanted to make you tea and feed you soup and stick you into one of his hoodies. Stuff your hot water bottle into the pocket for good measure. Hold you close to his chest where, sometimes, if he held you there for long enough, you’d suddenly cry. You would sob without explanation, bury your face into his neck, and it was weird but Joe would fucking glow on the inside from the knowledge that you deemed Joe safe enough to get your tears out.

God, he was so fucking gone for you.

Loved you.

Loved you loved you.

Did he not want you to have a nice flatmate? Did he want you to have one that didn’t offer you pizza after a long, rough day? Was he really that terrible of a human being?

No.

He did want you to live with a nice person. One that did offer you pizza after a long, rough day.

It just upset him that it wasn’t him.

He wanted to be the nice flatmate.

Like he had been.

Well.

Fucked that up all by himself, didn’t he?

Joe had to remind himself of all the reasons why he made those personal choices. And the plan had been working. It truly had been. But then you’d just pulled your feet from his lap because Josh was there and... were you embarrassed of him? Was that what this boiled down to?

You pushed your feet into Joe’s leg as you stretched and yawned, and Joe waited for Josh to walk out of the room to tap you just above the knee. To squeeze you there.

You looked up and around, just to make sure you were alone, before you held out your hand that Joe then grabbed hold off. He pulled until you sat up and then, in a rogue move that he didn’t see coming, you leant in to kiss him.

Josh was just down the hall, door wide open.

And you kissed him.

Surprise.

Not moving backwards, then.

It was only short. Just a quick small little thing, but it was lips against lips, and it startled Joe so much, he couldn’t even think to be quiet about it. To not let his lips smack the way they naturally would when giving someone a kiss.

If that bothered you, you didn’t show it, mind too sluggish to catch up to what was happening maybe, and Joe grinned as he softly said, “Hi.” after you broke apart.

“I’m sorry.” was the first thing out of your mouth. You meant for texting him to come over and then promptly falling asleep on the sofa before he had even made his way over. You hadn’t meant to do that.

Joe heard your apology and took it to mean, sorry for the hard flinch away from him, which seemed silly now. You had just gone and kissed him. There was hardly anything left to be sorry for now, was there?

Joe had taken a step forward by being casually intimate with you in front of a stranger - held your feet in front of Josh - and, at first, you had shied away, only to then meet him there on your own terms a second later - be casually intimate with Joe with Josh just in the other room.

A new normal.

Your pace.

It went like that for a while then.

Joe would take your whole hand without asking, only for you to snatch it back and then give him a finger.

Which was fine.

Made Joe secretly smile every time it happened. He started being able to predict it a little too. Knew that if he’d overshoot, he’d end up with what he wanted in the first place too. Which, if you zoomed in on that a lot, could be classified as manipulation.

But you were happy.

So it was fine.

You were trying and so was Joe.

You were trying when, a couple of days later, you found yourself in a pub with Joe and a couple of his friends and he’d convinced you to just get a quick drink, just the one, and yea, that was okay. You could have a drink with Joe’s friends. They were kind, fun people.

You ended up meeting everyone outside, and after a round of greeting, you offered to go get drinks inside. When you came back to join the group, Joe had sat down on a barstool and you went to stand beside him. Handed him his drink. Cheersed him before you went for a sip. And then you felt his hand curl around your hip.

You tried the whole time.

Blushed the whole time too.

You couldn’t hold his hand as you walked home from the pub after that one drink.

But you could accept his scarf getting draped around your neck when he noticed you were cold.

And you were also trying when the two of you were on the tube together, and Joe had spotted someone subtly point their phone at him. Instead of acting like he was alone, like he was just out and about on his own for a second, he sat forward a little and moved his arm to touch your opposite outer thigh. It was meant to be protective, and it did shield you from having your picture taken, but it took a lot for you to not move his arm away and get up to stand near the doors where you could pretend you didn’t even know who he was.

You couldn’t turn around on the escalator to look at him after.

But you could accept the hand on your lower back as Joe guided you towards the exit of the busy station.

You were trying. Actively trying. And it felt like agony if you thought about it for too long. But it was fine if you just sucked it up and went with it.

Joe tried too.

Joe tried his best to be normal about you going out with Josh and some of his friends. Just told you to have a good time. To call him when you got home.

Joe tried his best to be normal when you told him Josh really wanted a dog, and maybe that would actually be so fun, wouldn’t it? You would go to pick out one with Josh, because if it was going to live at the flat, you would have to get along with it too, and wasn’t that smart thinking? Joe had to remind himself that you weren’t getting a dog together, but, that was sort of exactly what was happening, wasn’t it?

And Joe tried his bestest best to be normal when after being buzzed up into your flat, he found your front door left open for him to make his way in by himself, because you were too busy in the living room where Josh was playing guitar and making you laugh by singing about what you were doing and trying to make things rhyme. And then Joe had to try even harder when the song quickly turned into rhymes that made fun of him, which only made you laugh louder.

Yea.

Josh was a nice guy.

But, fuck Josh.

After hearing the giggles Josh was able to pull out of you, Joe became determined to let Josh hear what other noises Joe was able pull out of you.

And for a little while, you relished the attention. Joe had learnt a thing or two about what you liked in bed by now, and he knew how to drag it out for maximum pleasure too.

Joe had laid you down on your own bed, spread you out and undressed you real slow. When you’d gone to grab the hem of his T-shirt, he’d taken hold of your hand and brought it up to his mouth to kiss it.

Just you, then.

All about you.

Which was... you weren’t going to lie, this was fucking fantastic.

But it became a little weird how Joe kept turning his head to look at your closed bedroom door every time you let a moan slip out.

It became a little weird how he kept softly instructing you to be louder for him.

“Come on, let me hear you.”

It didn’t feel wildly out of place, but... something felt a little off about it.

You didn’t mention it until afterwards, when you were sat with your backs against the headboard, and you could see how it lingered on his face; something was off.

“Hey...”

Joe was quick to turn his head to look at you, and he immediately smiled to hide whatever you knew was brewing underneath the surface.

“Hey.”

“Are you okay?” you tried to hide your worry with warmth, which was silly, because Joe’d already seen it.

Joe lifted his arm to throw around your shoulder and pulled you into his side, warm sticky skin to warm sticky skin, and he kissed you on your hairline before casually answering, “Yea, of course.”

And you knew he was lying, but you kept quiet. Silently played with the folds of your duvet over your lap and waited until, finally, you heard Joe sigh.

“Promise not to make fun of me,” Joe started, to which you didn’t respond with words, but instead found the hand that wasn’t curled around your shoulder and intertwined your fingers with his.

Joe took a moment to find the right words.

“But...”

The silence gave your brain time to panic. A million things went through your mind. Every single little thing you’d done that could’ve maybe upset him.

Something was wrong, and you were the problem, because you had definitely fucked up, hadn’t you?

What had you done?

The key.

Fuck.

You kept forgetting about his key. It was there on your dresser. You could get out of bed and give it to him right now if that was–

“I don’t like that there’s a guy in your bedroom.”

And...

Oh.

Was he... was he being serious?

You moved away from him a little to get a proper good look at his face, and followed his gaze to see he was looking at your bedroom door again.

And... oh, God.

You didn’t like that.

That left a weird taste in your mouth.

Made you frown at him. Made you grimace a little.

You understood what he meant. But Jesus fucking Christ.

“Joe...” you started, moving even further from him, sitting up properly now.

“No, I know... I know,” he sighed, lifting both hands that he then dropped into his lap as he made a stupid face. “It’s stupid.”

Which was exactly right.

Joe was being stupid.

Joe had moved out and had forced you to get a new flatmate and now he was being a real child about it. Was calling your former bedroom your bedroom still, which it wasn’t. Was calling your flatmate ‘a guy’, like he was some random dude, which he wasn’t.

“Josh is my flatmate,” you said, trying to make the point that it was normal for him to be in the flat with you.

And then Joe felt it.

Joe felt whatever was inside of his chest, that stupid dark little monster that had been bouncing around in there all night, he felt it crawl up into his throat. Into his voice box.

It was too quick, the reaction too fast.

Joe knew the words were unfair and undeserved and ridiculously accusatory without any real legs to stand on.

Joe heard himself say it. Heard himself snap the words, and they were out of his mouth before he could even begin to try to stop them from even being formed at all.

“Yea exactly.”

That green fucking monster.

Joe saw how your face dropped. Saw the disbelief and the confusion. The did-he-really-just wheels turning behind your eyes that slowly clicked into their yea-he-did slots.

You knew what Joe meant, but desperately tried to find the humour in Joe’s face, because surely, he must have been joking.

It wasn’t a funny joke.

And then, you realised it wasn’t a joke at all.

Joe didn’t smile or laugh. Just looked at you, expression slightly stern but otherwise blank, and holy fucking shit.

No.

You remained calm.

Wanted to fucking scream at him, yell, “What do you think you’re accusing me of exactly?!” and, “Please say that again, but slower, will you?!” but, you didn’t.

Instead you turned around and slowly got out of bed, taking one of your pillows with you.

“No, baby, wait,”

Baby.

“I’m sorry, that’s not what I– I didn’t mean it like that. That came out wrong,” Joe rambled, but you slowly stalked towards the door.

“I’m just,” Joe rubbed an anxious hand across his forehead. “God, I... I don’t know.”

Jealous.

He couldn’t even say it.

But that was okay. You heard him loud and clear, anyway.

“Please come back to bed.”

You reached for the door handle and had already decided you weren’t going to come back to bed. You’d sleep on the sofa and Joe was going to have to think about what he’d just said.

Just before you stepped out, you turned your head over your shoulder and looked at him.

Joe.

Sat in your bed in his old bedroom, chest bared, leaning forward into his own lap like he’d been reaching out for you as you’d taken the four steps it took to get to your door.

And it was the cruelest thing in the whole fucking world to realise right then and there that you... shit.

You fucking loved him.

What he said had hurt, but what he hadn’t said hurt worse. The silent, I know what you are like as a flatmate because I have lived it and now you have another one, rung loud in your ears, and you understood right then that the only reason it felt like your heart was bleeding was because you loved him.

Fuck.

You opened the door without looking, but then heard the soft sounds of an acoustic guitar being played in the living room, and looked towards where it came from.

“Baby,” Joe tried one last time, and one of your hands shot up in warning. He had to stop calling you baby. Had to stop talking all together.

“I’m sorry.” Joe apologised again, voice much softer, much more sincere this time, and you only thought of how Joe wasn’t allowed to be the cause of your pain. Had he not learnt from the past? Had he not listened to you then?

You looked back towards Joe, who was about to open his mouth again to say more apologetic words, you were sure, but you stopped him before he could.

“Joe,” you warned again, but stepped into the hallway anyway, reaching for the door handle on the other side to close it.

Just before you did, you made direct eye-contact with a man who knew he had said the wrong thing at the wrong time, but you just needed him to know extra well.

So you dropped your shoulders and said, “You’re the guy in my bedroom.” before you shut the door.

Joe didn’t move.

Just stared at the wooden panels of the door.

And shit...

You were right.

He was the guy in your bedroom, and why the fuck was he even thinking about anything else?

What else was more important?

Joe had to really force himself to not go after you. You left because you wanted space from him and he didn’t really have any other choice but to take your lead on this one, did he?

Your lead.

Your time.

Your pace.

Fuck.

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey #define close #explain us #reinvent love

[forrestfantasy94]

NO BECAUSE THIS BROKE ME EVEN MORE..SO HERE

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x reader #hell fire club

[honey-flustered]

Along For The Ride (Part 1 of 2)

MDNI +18 Only!!

Farmer!Older!Beefy!Eddie Munson/ Mean!Bougie!Fem!Reader

Summary: A drunken joyride leads you in the midst of Eddie Munson, who’s seeking repayment for the damages made to his property by you. Fed up with your constant misbehavior, your father makes a deal with Eddie in which you will do some manual labor around his farm in exchange. You’re not too pleased with this arrangement and your differences in personalities lead to a clashing of heads…and tongues?? (8.5k words)

A/N: I have not written in ages. It is really tough being a writer with the pressures I place on myself to be perfect, to gain more likes and followers, to write things as quickly as possible. I’m learning to fall in love with writing again. It’s a slow process but someday I’ll be able to share all the great things I’ve been working on for the past year. Anyway, here is my start to starting my journey again and thank you all for supporting me.

CW: fluff and lots of angst, enemies to friends to lovers trope, SLOW BURN, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), mean!affluent!reader, bad girl reader, light smut/eventual heavy smut, bratty!reader, ugly duckling turned swan trope, reader character development, mean friends, minor canon events from tv series (chrissy death, eddie accused of chrissy and other victims deaths), limited knowledge of farm life and work, drunk driving, consumption of marijuana and alcohol, committing of property crimes, return of reader’s ex, mentions of insecurities, descriptive and graphic language, lots of sexual tension, kissing, dry humping, eddie cums in his pants

You bellow out the lyrics to Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Getting Back Together” along with your three friends, not a care in the world for who would be unfortunate enough to hear you in the chilly 3 am evening. The girls pass around a bottle of tequila when your best friend, Tana, —seated in the passenger seat— attempts to pour a shot into your mouth.

“Babe, no. I drank enough at the club. The guy that asked for my number was practically throwing them at me. I had to kill a plant by pouring my drinks onto the poor thing. Men ruin everything.” You pout.

“Amen to that, sis,” Tana says, snapping her fingers. “Had a guy tell me that he thinks I’m the one for him. Turns out, he’s married with a baby on the way.”

You all playfully point your index fingers to your tongues, faking gags before leading into a giggling fit.

“I had a guy ghost me because he didn’t like me sharing my selfies on social media. Said that ‘they should only be exclusive to him’.” Your friend, Essie, shares.

“I feel like we need to get back at men for the shit they put us through,” Brooke chimes in. “I’m in the mood to make a man fall to his knees, whimpering for mercy.”

“You kinky little minx!” You laugh. “Are you trying to make men pay or are you trying to get laid?”

“Can it be both?” Brooke says, biting her acrylic-donned thumb.

“I say…” Tana calls attention to herself, raising a hand. “We choose a random house on this street to wreak our vengeance. One of the homes has to belong to a man.”

“I’m in!” Essie beams.

“Me too.” Brooke says, high fiving Tana for her devious plan.

“I don’t know, guys,” You say, reluctant to rain on their parade. “We’re pretty drunk but I don’t think we’re drunk enough to want vandalism charges. Let’s just go to one of those rage rooms and let out all this pent up energy. We could scream out female rage lines from our fave movies and break shit.”

“That’s…okay but it’s not as epic as Tana’s idea,” Essie says, leaning forward to be in better earshot range. “Come on, y/n. It’s only for tonight. You know, we’re just having some harmless girl time fun. It’s not like we’ll be breaking and entering. We’re just gonna do some silly stuff then leave. Pleeaaase. I just broke up with my boyfriend. I need this.”

You take a quick glance at the girls who all send big, puppy eyes your way. You sigh then laugh. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

They cheer at your response, knowing that they’ve won. You raise a hand to cease their cheers and they quickly go dead silent. “Since, I’m the most sober one here. We’re doing this my way,” While staring at the road ahead, a smirk slowly spreads across your face. “I get to choose the place.”

——————

The four of you sneak onto the open field, tiptoeing through the tall grass. Based on the smell wafting in the air, you are certain there are barn animals nearby.

With a nasal tone in her voice from holding her nose, Tana says, “Ugh, how could anyone work around this icky smell?”

“Shhh,” You order, putting a finger to your lips. “If we need to be quiet if this is going to be a successful in and out mission. Do you remember the plan?”

“How could I forget? It’s the most basic prank ever.” Tana whisper-yells, holding up the two rolls of toilet paper in her hands.

“It’s still a huge pain to the homeowner,” You defend confidently before letting out a wicked giggle. “He will be so inconvenienced when he wakes up in the morning.”

Tana shakes her head lovingly at you before peering to her right and left. “Umm, y/n, where’s Essie and Brooke?”

Your eyes widen as you unintelligibly peer to your right and left as well despite knowing the space is empty. “Oh shit,” You facepalm. “How could we have let them out of our sight? Who knows what those morons are doing?”

“Hew we awe,” Essie carries a ‘baby talk’ inflection as she materializes from the dark bluish night with a medium-sized pig cradled in her arms. “Evwyone meet Wilbur.”

“I’m sorry but where the hell did you get that pig?!” You say, no longer able to keep your voice to a whisper.

“The barn, obviously.” Brooke replies.

“What happened to not breaking and entering?! I take my eyes off you two for a second and you’ve already broken a handful of crimes.” You scold.

“But we’re saving him, y/n. You don’t want this pig to become bacon, do you?” Essie says, holding up the pig near your face only for it to wiggle out of her grasp and take off running.

“We’ve gotta catch that stupid fucking pig!” You yell and the girls obey. The group comically chases the animal around, slipping and sliding through mud and crops. In the chaos, the pig makes contact with the toilet paper you’ve long abandoned, tossing it around with the help of the forceful winds to guide it all over the field.

You spot the pig approaching the door of a small blue cottage. You dive forward, fully immersed in the thick mud that soiled your white tank top and denim skirt and you cared little for this fact with your concerns focused on obtaining the pig in your arms. He squeals and whines against you as you plead for its compliance.

Suddenly the porch lights turn on, shining down on you like a spotlight. The door swings open and not long after you’re forced to look into the eyes of your prosecutor from the ground.

A rugged, older man with unruly, curls of brown hair cascading down his shoulders and the deepest brown eyes that are as large as buttons. The same eyes that were now staring down angrily at you.

“What the fuck?” He says through gritted teeth. It’s not until he sees the full extent of your wrath that he decides to emphasize his previous statement with a fury of a thousand suns. “What. The. Fuck!”

You swallow hard, releasing the pig as you collect yourself off the floor. The man feels no need to check whether his pet had entered the home safely, wanting his eyes to focus on you in case you tried running.

“I-I could explain. W-we were just—”

“We?” He abruptly interrupts, upholding the gruffness in his tone.

You were afraid that he’d say that. After all, those bitches were a little too quiet for your liking. After looking behind you to confirm their abandonment, you slowly face your prosecutor once again.

Swallowing the hard lump in your throat you begin, you try scrambling for an answer. This is already a very terrifying situation. This man looked terrifying himself. He’s robust in build, littered with tattoos, and had piercings. You don’t see men like him everyday or at all on your side of town. Men usually groomed themselves like ken dolls where you come from. But when you have come across men that look like him, the experience has always been a negative one—-only this time you were the one at fault.

“I’m sorry.” You shrug with an awkward smile then tack on a “Please don’t call the cops.”

He sighs deeply. “I’m not going to call the cops…”

“Oh, thank god.” You sigh in relief, a hand to your beating chest.

“You’re going to call your parents,” He finishes. “And you are going to tell them that we’re going to come up with a solution for this or I will be calling the police.”

“Oh, fuuuck.” You groan.

————-

“I’m so very sorry, sir. Truly,” Your father says after profusely apologizing for the 7th time since his arrival. “She’s been acting out a lot ever since she’d gone away to university. My wife and I don’t know this girl but she is not the y/n we raised.”

You roll your eyes at the comment, texting away at your friends who wanted to know the details of your capture. Meanwhile, you’re too busy cursing them out to care about how badly you’ll be punished for this.

“I’m just glad things didn’t get any worse or when someone could’ve seriously ended up getting hurt.” The farmer says, staring pointedly at you.

“Now I was thinking…though I could very well pay for the trouble and we could be out of your hair, I’m a man that likes to go above and beyond when it comes to taking responsibility. My daughter’s exceedingly aware of this fact about myself,” Your father scoots his seat up closer to the table, fingers together as if proposing a business plan. “It appears that you might need some temporary assistance in tending to your farm work. If you’re looking for an extra set of hands to help with some manual labor for the next two weeks, my daughter is happy to oblige.”

“Excuse me!” You say, attention fully invested in the conversation. “Tell me you're joking.”

“Nope. You are grounded. Meaning that though you are visiting for spring break, you are currently under my roof, my rules. I am still your parent after all. To clarify, there will be no going out with your friends. You are to come straight to

Mr. Munson’s farm every day after your time at your mother’s shop. You’ll help the gentleman around with whatever he asks of you.” Your father explains.

“And what if I don’t?” You ask, defiant.

“Then you’ll be cut off and you’ll have to earn money on your own.”

“Y-you m-mean a j-job?” You ask, horrified.

“Exactly.” Your father confirms.

You stare wide-eyed at farmer Munson who has a prominent smirk on his face. “I like the sound of that, sir. You’re a good man.”

You shriek in anger. “You’re the worst!”

You furiously stomp out of the home, hating your life and men once again.

————

Your father had no doubts that you’d be going to work on the farm once he’d threaten to take away your (his) money. When you arrive at the address, you’re immediately reminded how you're not on your side of town anymore. It’s officially Hickville.

Reluctantly knocking on the door, you hope that Eddie won’t answer the door, praying that he’s changed his mind and took the money instead. Unfortunately, he answers the door with a huge smile in contrast to your deadpan demeanor.

“Oh, come on, lighten up, sugar. I made some of my famous iced tea ahead. One taste and it’ll all seem worth it.”

“It’s not fair!” You rant, pushing passed him. “Why am I being the only one punished? This was all Brooke’s idea. And Essie was the one who stole the goddamn pig.”

“His name is Wilbur,” Eddie corrects. “And who are we talking about exactly?”

“Doesn’t matter,” You sigh. “Bad things always happen to good people.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie says, staring you down.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You really think you’re the victim in all of this?”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we check out the lovely view of the TP’d trees blowing in the wind?” He asks sarcastically, gesturing to his window.

“It’s just a little toilet paper. Never had a little prank done on you.”

“Wow,” He feigns a smile, shaking his head at you. “Your audacity to diminish all the negative things you’ve done to me into the spirit of good fun is astounding.”

“My therapist did always say I have a knack for looking at things on the bright side.” You retort.

“Is that so?” He asks mockingly. “Well then, you’re gonna love this special job I have for you.”

—————

Which leads you to the situation you’re in now. You’re staring into the eyes of a cow whose large brown eyes kind of reminded you of farmer Munson except they actually held kindness in them and not pure disdain.

“There’s no way I’m milking this thing. I have no idea how to do that,” You say, prompting Eddie to raise a suggestive eyebrow at you. “You know what I mean, pervert.”

Suddenly, an idea clicked in your head. Maybe you could use this ‘pervert’ thing to your advantage. He’s obviously single or he wouldn’t be this much of a crab. You can easily seduce him and get out of doing anything!

“Mr. Munson,” You say with a purr in your voice as you press yourself up against him. “I’m actually really good at milking other things after all. You’ve got me pegged at that. Maybe…I can show you just how skillful my mouth and hands can be for you.”

He laughs. He fucking chuckles in your face. How fucking dare he?! “That was rich. Seriously, that performance was just…moving. You can try to sway me with sex all ya want, hun. Trust me there are women and men who’ve tried,” He slightly narrows the gap between your faces, staring you down. “I don’t buckle under that kinda pressure, sugar. It’ll take a lot more than salacious words to make my dick jump. Now why don’t we go back to the task at hand, shall we?”

You’re fuming. This asshole really thinks he can get away with making you out to be a fool. Well, two could play that game. You’re going to make his existence for the next two weeks feel like a total nightmare.

He seats you on a small stool beside the cow before instructing you on how to milk her. You halfheartedly reach for an udder, shrieking at the feel of it between your fingers.

“This is so gross!” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m going to disassociate and imagine that I’m in a niche boutique in Manhattan.”

“Ah, spending daddy’s money even in your dreams. How thoughtful.” He mutters.

“You have no right to judge me just because you think I’m privileged.” You snap.

“I don’t ‘think’ you’re privileged. You are privileged. See the difference?”

You tug on an udder, purposefully targeting him as the milk drenches him. His face puckers his face before staring daggers at you.

“Oops.” You say in a sickeningly sweet tone.

——————

You begrudgingly enter your house key into the doorknob, body aching from the day's work. The moment you enter, your father’s happy-go-lucky spirit engulfs you and it takes everything in you not to explode.

“Hey, honey, how was your first day?”

“Question, father,” You begin, calling him the formal term instead of “papa” or “dad”. “Do you love me?”

“Now what kind of silly question is that?” He reverts back with his own question, befuddled.

“I’m just curious because I don’t think a father who truly loves their daughter would ever put her through the kind of hell I just went through today.” You respond.

“You milked a cow,” Your teenager brother, Aspen, enters the dining room before beginning a dramatic act. “Someone save the poor girl! She’s gaining new life experiences! You are such primadonna.”

“Shut up, ya little twerp.” You say, pulling his hoodie over his face.

“Your brother’s right, dear,” Your father says. “You are being really dramatic. I don’t get it. You never used to be this way. You loved reading books and conducting personal science experiments and geeking out over your favorite movies—”

“That just isn’t me anymore, dad. The sooner you accept that, the better it is for us all.” You grumble.

He decides to drop the topic in favor of keeping the peace for the dinner your mom prepared for the family to enjoy as a unit. But your mind couldn’t help but to wander back to those times where you were seen as a nerd and bullied for being different and having different interests. University was a different story though. There, you were able to reinvent yourself into the hot bad bitch you know today.

But why is it that your father’s words resonated so much with you? Had it been because it wasn’t the makeover or the new friends and partners you’d make along the way…it was the fact that he knew that you, yourself, couldn’t believe your own act. He knows that you're lying to yourself about liking the person you’ve become. No way could ever admit such a thing to him. And it’s not like you’d feel this way forever. Once you’re done with this hell labor with Eddie “The Devil” Munson, you can go back to your popular life.

————

The routine continued including your constant pushback. It went: shadowing your mother for the day with her bridal clients, heading over to the Munson farm soon after, non stop bickering between the two of you for 2 hours, then heading back home to soak your aching body and curse out the world.

Today is no different with the task of you grooming the stupid pig that got you into this mess in the first place.

“Wilbur. His name’s—”

“I know!” You shout at him, gathering the metal pail and wooden brush from the table. You grumpily made your way to the backyard of the home in search of the shed supposedly carrying the soap to clean the pig. When you notice Wilbur rushes out of a trailer home stationed in the backyard. “Hey, get back here!”

The pig is long gone and you don't care to chase after it once your interest is piqued by the mystery home in the backyard. Searching around to make sure there were no signs of Mr. Munson, you enter the place cautiously.

It’s as if the trailer had been stuck in the 1980s. Everything is vintage and old looking but also well kept. You see photos of the younger Eddie Munson scattered around the walls of the home and—-though you hate to admit it—he was just as handsome as he is now. In some of the photos including one pinned to the fridge by a magnet, you can see an older man. Maybe his father.

Your eye catches an old poetry assignment also pinned to the fridge with a large ‘C+’ above it. A little note at the top explaining his grade being contributed to some misspellings and some inappropriate language despite the good work.

You raise the paper to your eyes and read:

If I Were A Hobbit

If I were a hobbit, I’d be so free

I’d frolic in the grass and smoke some trees

With furry feet and a merry heart

From adventure’s call, I’d never depart

With Bilbo’s tales, I’d while away time.

In the beautiful land of Middle Earth’s rhyme

I’d wander the fields beneath the sun

I’d travel it world cause it’s all in good fun

If I were a hobbit, maybe I wouldn’t get laid

But, hey, it’s goddamn worth the price I paid

You giggle, amused at how fun Mr. Munson had been long ago. You wonder what could’ve happened. Immersed in the poem, you were unaware of his arrival until he whispered haughtily into your ear.

“We’re continuing the trend of breaking and entering, I see.”

You jolt away, facing him. “I-I’m sorry. But you said that I had to look for a shed. Should be more specific.”

“This looks like a shed to you, sugar?”

“Trailer…shed…it’s no different.”

He chuckles dryly. “You are a piece of work.”

“Look who’s talking? You know, you seemed a lot more fun when you were a teenager.” You comment, holding up the poem.

“Give me that,” He yanks from your hands, placing it back on the fridge. “Ain’t anyone ever tell you it’s wrong to go snooping around people’s things. Wait, who am I kidding? I met your father. Even if he were to have taught you these things, you’d probably go against him.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” You hiss.

“Right back atcha, sweetheart.” He retorts.

“Then, I hope you don’t mind if I continue to do so.” You say, pushing past him to go into the hallway.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, hot on your trail.

You enter a bedroom and it’s another blast from the past. The typical kind of teenage boy bedroom. It’s no shock to you that he's a metalhead. You begin to rummage through his collection.

“You little brat,” He huffs. “I’m too old to be dealing with this shit!”

“Live a little,” You say, popping in a blues cassette into the radio. “Dance with me.”

He stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed as you begin to dance in circles around him. Your boot kicks up a newspaper article crumpled up on the ground and you go to retrieve it, ignoring Eddie’s protests.

It is an article about 15 years ago that expresses Eddie Munson’s exoneration in the death of Chrissy Cunningham and him receiving only a $50,000 settlement. It also goes into detail that his only known immediate family and caretaker, Wanye Munson, had died just a month before his release.

“Oh my god, Mr. Munson. I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” You trail off, knowing what to say or even where to begin.

“It’s all in the past now,” He sighs. “Besides, I’m fine now. I still have my friends. They are like family. They’ve got their own lives but when they can they check on me. That’s more than enough.”

Without thinking, your arms curl around his body and for the first time you get to feel his body against yours and it’s addicting. He tenses for a moment, unsure whether this is okay but eventually he melts into your embrace.

His beefy arms cradle you, a large hand resting atop your head. Your heartbeats fall in sync with one another’s and you allow yourself the brief moment to nuzzle into his chest, the chest hairs peeking above his tank top tickles the tip of your nose.

You dare to look him in the eyes, seeing them already looking down at you. They were wet with unshed tears, pleading with you for something. It’s the first time you’ve seen that look on his face and like a magnet you're drawn to it. You’re suddenly moving on your own accord, tiptoeing to brush your nose against his. He lowers his face to your level. Your lips are only a mere centimeters from his full ones when the sound of his phone ringing takes you both out of the moment.

He’s quick to pull away as if freed from an intense spell. Excusing himself, he leaves the room and heads outside. You’re left standing in the room alone, the soft, rhythmic melody of blues playing in the background.

Willing yourself to cool down, you decide to go on with your original task and find Wilbur while hoping it’ll shake off the electric feeling he left on your skin.

————————-

Bathing the pig proved to be quite the distraction because this little shit is making you use all your brain power to keep it still. Having stripped into just your bikini and rainboots, you held the pig for dear life as you washed and scrubbed at him and practically yourself.

You notice Eddie from the corner of your eye, stifling laughter as he leaned against a nearby tree.

“By the way, I’ve already washed off all the barn animals, tended to my crops, and was able to make myself a sandwich in the meantime. You, however, you’re still working on Wilbur. Or should I say, he’s working you.”

“Hardee har har,” You say, unamused. “Will you just help me with this pig?”

“Alright, alright,” He says, heading over to you. The pig immediately jumps from his grasp and into your arms. “It’s all in the technique.”

“Easy for you to say. He already knows you.” You grumble.

“Now what you’re gonna want to do is come up behind him. He's a big fella so in order to hold him down you’ll need to straddle him like this and place your hands down firmly on his back. That way he’ll know to stay put,” Eddie says getting into position, his boots digging in the dirt for some leverage. “He’ll tussle with ya a little but it’s only because he’s not used to being handled by other humans. He’s still a little frantic with me even after all these years. I saved him from the slaughterhouse so it comes with the territory.”

“You mean you weren’t going to turn him into bacon?”

“No, sugar, Wilbur’s family. Now get up on here with me. Don’t put too much of your weight on him. Only just enough to hold him down.” He instructs.

You follow suit, straddling the pig and placing your hands over Eddie’s before looking back over your shoulder at him. “Like this?”

“Just like that, sugar. You’re a natural. See? Now I’m just gonna go ahead and get up and you’ll take the—”

“What? No, don’t leave me! He’ll just shake me off again.” You protest.

Sure enough, the pig began to shake the both of you off its back, side to side until you both fell back into the soil. You fall right into Eddie’s lap and he instinctively grips your hips hard, causing you to let out a yelp and scramble out of his grasp.

You sat on your knees, looking at him with wide eyes and he returned with the same expression. The blush on his face intensifies and you follow the way his hands rush to pull the cowboy hat from his head to hold against his lap.

He quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat.

“You’ve got—erm, your bikini bra…” You’ve never seen him so flustered. So speechless. You eish you could relish in it but when you realize exactly what he’s insinuating, you feel your cheeks begin to heat up as you wish the world will swallow you whole.

Your tit is hanging out for the world to see. A fucking nipple slip! Why did God cease at nothing to make you the butt of every joke?

You briskly adjust your bra, shaking in your boots. The itching desire to run heavy on your mind.

“I-I s-should go,” Your shaky legs somehow allow you to stand as you peer down at him. “Have a good evening, Mr. Munson.”

You stiffly power walk your way to the small cottage home to gather your discarded clothes on the porch. Eddie’s large hand rests on your shoulder.

“Wait! I can’t send you off like this. You’ll track mud in your car.”

“It’s not like I haven’t done that before.” You scoff.

“Why don’t you shower here and I’ll offer you some fresh clothes? I’ll be making my stir fry in case you're hungry.”

“You being nice to me all of a sudden, Mr. Munson?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t help but think there’s some kind of hidden agenda.”

He smiles a genuine 100-watt smile. “No, sugar. I’m just extending some needed hospitality is all.”

—————

You pull on the long sleeved t-shirt Eddie offered you, studying its logo. A horned demon, swords, dice and so on.

“It’s my old high school club t-shirt.” He says, coming to sit beside you on the couch.

“You were in a Dungeons and Dragons club?”

“You know D’N’D?”

“Know it?! I loved that game.” You say, excitedly.

“I didn’t think kids in your generation still played that game.” He laughs.

“Oh, yeah,” You nod. “I was a dungeon master. My campaigns were fire. Anyone who’d joined my games would always go around telling their friends to come see me in action.”

“No way! I was a dungeon master, too! I took it a little too seriously at times but it was like my second passion,” He looks you up and down. “I would have never thought someone like you would be into that kinda stuff.”

“I’ll ignore your sly comment to clarify that I wasn’t always like this back in high school.”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Well, you heard my dad. I used to be a goody two-shoes. A nerd. And I even dressed the part, too. The old me would’ve totally geeked at your Hobbit poem. I’m different now though.”

“What’s so wrong about being a nerd?” He inquires, scooting closer to you.

“I used to get bullied everyday. Boys would ignore me. Even the geeks would only ever see me as a friend. When I got to university, that all changed. Everyone wanted me.”

“I think if I’d known you then, we’d probably be good friends.”

“Yeah right. I seemed like the bad boy type who falls for the cheerleader. You wouldn’t have looked twice in my direction.”

“No,” Eddie says firmly, staring you intensely in the eyes. “I would see you.”

He repeats for emphasis. “I see you.”

You swallow the hard lump in your throat, choking back tears. You’ve never felt so vulnerable. It’s strange to be so open with a man who 5 days ago you would have choked with your bare hands.

“Besides,” He says, breaking the silence. “I think it’s you who would have ignored me. I’m not the bad boy you think I am. Sure, I was a bit of a troublemaker here and there. But I was a huge geek, too. Hadn’t even lost my virginity until age 36. A year after my release. No girl wanted to fuck me back in high school. I was ‘the freak’. To some people today, I still am one regardless if I’m innocent.”

“I would’ve believed you’re innocent. I’d have been by your side, too. Us, geeks, have to stick together, yeah?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”

There’s that magnetic pull again. The attraction that makes you want to be as close to him as possible. You resist not wanting to make that move again but he takes the initiative, leaning in further only this time you're interrupted once again with the sound of your phone ringing. You throw a silent fit in your head. Eddie’s just as frustrated, expelling a long duration of air from his nose.

“Hello.” You say, answering the phone.

“Hey, baby,” A familiar voice says on the line. “It’s been months. I still think about our time in Venice and this spring fever is only making it harder to ignore.”

Now the memories come flooding in. It’s an ex-fling you met while studying abroad in Italy during your freshman year of university. The man who’d taken your virginity and showed you the ropes to popularity. The moment you left Italy you expected him to call you back but he immediately ghosted you. From then on, you became the maneater you are today.

“What do you want?”

You, of course. I hear you are back in your hometown. Luckily for you, I am doing some research here and I was wondering—-“

“Luckily for me? Are you on drugs, Stefan? I don’t care if you want me. You could forget my number and then you’ll forget me. Have a goodnight.” You quickly hang up the call, ignoring his pleas.

“Is everything alright?” Eddie asks, noticing the way you’re hyperventilating.

“I am now,” You sigh. “That was my ex. He was also my first. He treated me like shit made me feel stupid and like I needed him as if he created me. And back then, I felt like I did need him. Then he ghosted me. It felt good to give him a piece of my mind although I wish I could have said more.”

“I think you said enough. I’m certain you hit him where it hurts.” He laughs.

“I should probably go.” You say, standing up from the couch to grab your coat.

“What happened to staying for dinner?” He asks.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Munson”

“Eddie. You can call me Eddie.”

“Eddie,” You say, testing his name on your tongue. You’re not exactly sure if you’re ready to be this informal with him despite your almost kisses and the boob slip incident. “I’m sorry but his call has left me shaken. I think I need to be in the company of my girls.”

“You mean, the girls who got you into trouble and left you behind? The ones your parents warned you to stay away from?”

“Come on, dude, I need this. It’s not like you can give me great advice about guys.”

“I could. Considering I am one.”

“Well, I don’t think we’re close enough for that kind of session.”

“We just had this whole heart to heart. I thought we were seeing some improvement in our friendship.” Eddie says.

“We’re friends?”

“Us, geeks, stick together?”

“That’s just an oath. Doesn’t exactly confirm a friendship between us.”

He exhales deeply, trying to contain his anger. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I tell your father about your little hangout.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Your eyes narrow at him.

“That would suggest that I’d be getting anything of value out of this which I wouldn’t be. Therefore, no this isn’t blackmail but it is definitely a threat. I don’t care if we’re friends. I don’t care to be your friend, sugar. But as the more responsible adult between us, I think it’s within our best interest that you don’t hang out with the people who cause you to commit crimes. So, I think I’ll be taking you home, hmm?”

“And what about my car?”

“I’ll take good care of it for tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for your next job.” He smiles smugly.

If looks could kill, he’d be 7 feet under and you’d already be in hell.

————

Eddie pulls up to the front of your house. The whole ride there had been silent. You angrily gather your things, hurriedly trying to exit his van.

“Have a goodnight, sugar!” He shouts as you slam the door in his face.

Once you’re inside, you do the routine process of angrily ranting out your annoyance with farmer Munson while stomping angrily up the stairs. Your family used to this by now simply goes about business as usual.

You dial up Tana and after a couple rings she answers. “Hey, bitch! I was just about to text you the news. Did you hear who’s in town?”

“Yeah, Stefan, I know. How’d you know?”

“He's been calling me nonstop asking for you. Says he wants to talk to you.”

“I already did. Told him to fuck off,” You say. “And I thought I’d feel a lot better about it but I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I didn’t get to stomp on his weirdly-shaped small dick.”

“Oh, yeeahh. I remember the dick pic he sent you. It is weird, isn’t it? Like an undeveloped banana. Anywho…you wanna get high at my place and watch America’s Next Top Model reruns. I’ve got Jell-O shots.” She singssongs the last statement.

“I can’t remember. I’m on lockdown,” You sigh. “If I get into any more trouble or I might as well hand over a contract of my soul to the devil.”

“Bitch, you are a grown woman. These are the best years of our lives where we’re supposed to live it to the fullest. Sneak out! I’m coming over to pick you up.”

“Tana, n—” But she’s already hung up the call. Sometimes, you really hate this girl. With no choice, you’re forced to make a plan.

Firstly, you create a human-shaped pile in your bed, disguising it with your comforter. Next, you’ll be climbing out of your window and quietly land on your lawn. Finally, you enter your friend’s car and you’ll be homefree.

Although, the climb is a lot more daunting than you anticipated. It seemed like a lot of a higher jump from where you are standing. Tana’s car pulls in and she rushes out to jump up and wave, whisper-yelling to encourage you to do it.

“Tana, this is fucking crazy. You always make me do crazy shit.” You yell down at her.

“But it’s all for the sake of fun experiences.” She retorts. “Come on and jump. Be the bad bitch, you are. Think for a second. WWBD: What would Beyonce do?”

“She'd probably fire you as a friend.” You growl.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, I’m ready to jump. Just be ready to catch me.”

“What?” Before Tana could register what you meant, you jumped, hurtling into her arms and straight to the ground.

“Huh, that wasn’t so bad.” You smile.

“Yeah, because I’m the one breaking your fall.” Tana groans.

“Payback’s a bitch, love.”

—————

“So, is the farmer plowing your garden?” Tana asks, while applying mascara to your eyelashes.

“Tana!”

“What? That’s got to be the only reason you’re officially over Stefan.” She says.

“I was already over Stefan. Eddie’s just my headache.”

“You’re on first name bases with him. Oh, you are definitely fucking him.”

“I’m not!” You insist.

“And did you say Eddie? That’s the infamous Eddie Munson. How could I have not seen the connection? He’s so hot. Is that okay to say about a murderer?”

“He’s not a murderer.” You quickly defend him causing Tana to raise her hands in surrender.

“Yikes, I’m sorry I didn't mean to offend your friend.”

“He’s not my…well, he is. But…he’s not a murderer. He never killed her. I did some digging on the internet and this town used to be really strange back then. Not how it is now. I don’t know but the circumstances in all the deaths that happened back in ‘86 are all too weird. No human could do the things that I’ve seen done to those corpses.”

“Bummer. Guess we’ll never know who did it. I hear people who know of this case still harass him to this day. It’s no wonder he practically lives off the grid.” Tana sighs. A knock at her front door leads her away and you’re alone to ponder your thoughts.

An overwhelming need to comfort Eddie hits you as you thought back to the moment he’d asked you to stay for dinner. You assumed it was all a ploy to get into your pants but now you realize that he’d genuinely enjoyed the little company he’d gotten.

You hear Tana’s footsteps and a set of another coming up the stairs and before you could get a chance to tell her that you’ll be leaving, she enters the room with your ex.

“What the hell is this?” You sneer.

“I just thought maybe you should hear him out.” Tana says with an anxious smile.

“I’m out of here.” You say, grabbing your jacket from her bed.

“Where are you going? Your car’s not here.” Tana rushes down the stairs after you.

“I’ll walk!” You hiss over your shoulder, pulling the door open where you’re unfortunately met with the presence of your father, brother, and the devil himself.

“Mr. Munson? Dad? What the hell are you all doing here?”

“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Your father says.

Stefan steps out from behind you, handing you a piece of paper. “I can see that it is a bad time, mi cara. Please, call me when you can. It’s a new number since you’ve blocked my old one.”

With that, he acknowledges the men before him with a nod and leaves. It’s not lost on you that Eddie stares him down with a dirty look on his face before his eyes land back on you.

“If I could just explain...” You begin.

“No, y/n, I’m sick of your excuses. You sneak off at night to god knows where. You reek of pot and booze. Is this the type of example you want to set for your younger brother? He’ll be graduating next year. Should anticipate that his time in university will consist of lollygagging around instead of focusing on his career?”

You look over to your brother who, instead of carrying a smirk, he had a look of genuine concern for you.

“I was just having fun.”

“Is that all you can think about? When did fun require drugs and alcohol and committing crimes?! Fun for you used to be attending cosplaying conventions, not vandalizing properties and drunk driving.”

“Well, I’m not that anymore so you could fucking stop clinging to the past.” You yell.

Your father is taken aback and you could faintly see the waterline rising in his eyes. “Get in the car. Now!”

You shoot Eddie an angry look. “Us, geeks, stick together? Forget anything I ever said about believing in you.”

Your heart twinges at the shattered look on his face at your statement. No longer wanting to see the extent of your blow, you brush past him and follow your father’s command.

“As for you, young lady,” your father points to Tana. “I will be in touch with your parents regarding your misconduct.”

Tana’s mouth drops in complete shock at this revelation and for a moment you actually are proud of your dad.

————-

You plop yourself onto your bed, crying your eyes out. Not even really crying for yourself but for Eddie. How could you have been so cruel to him? All for the reason that he cares enough about you to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble. There’s no way he’d ever forgive you for the way you spoke to him.

A knock on your door calls to your attention. You reluctantly answer, knowing you’ll be getting yet another punishment. You’re surprised to find your brother, Aspen, at the door.

“What do you want, twerp?” You say.

“You should really apologize to dad. You made him cry. I’ve never seen him like that.” He says.

“I know. It’s just that I hate when people remind me that I was…a loser. I didn’t mean to be so awful to him, though.”

“You were never a loser. In fact, I used to think you were pretty cool. I wanted to be comfortable in my weirdness as you were. I’m happy that you’re finding yourself and all. But you don’t have to change who you are to appease anyone. Not even dad. It’s your life, sis. If you like drinking and partying, that’s okay. If you like reading nerdy books and cosplaying, that’s okay, too. As long as it’s something you want to do and not something you do to make people like you. So stop acting like you’re some psycho fembot that wants to spend the rest of her life in and out of jail.”

“Wow, Aspen, I’m impressed. I did not know you could speak incoherent sentences.” You tease, pulling him into a hug.

“Fuck off.” He laughs, struggling to free from your tight embrace.

————

The next day, after some time to think of your apologies. You began with your father. He admitted to you that he was scared of the thought of you growing up and not needing him and let’s just say that the two of you ended up bawling in each other’s arms and confessing your love and appreciation for one another by the end of it. Your busy event planner mother stumbled into the scene both heartwarmed and confused.

The next one is going to be a tough one for you. But you felt prepared with a handy long written note in your hand in case you needed to find the right words.

However, the moment you arrived on his farm and were met with the look of indifference on his face, you began to break down sobbing. Hard. The thought letter long abandoned to the ground.

His demeanor immediately softens, placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

“I-I’m s-so sorry….you…friend…mean…,” You gasp an unintelligible apology through your tears. “Bitchy…geeks…believe you…stupid pig Wilbur…never would have met a great man like youuuu.”

He gives you a small smile, pulling you into his embrace. “I know, I know.”

“Understand?” You ask.

“Yes, sugar. I understand what you said. Crystal clear.”

“Accept?”

“Yes, I accept your apology.” Eddie laughs.

“You don’t hate me?”

“I never hated you. Even when you’re being an annoying brat. ” He says.

“Good,” You sniffle, pulling away from him to wipe your tears and compose yourself. “I’m happy we’re friends again.”

“Friends? Who said anything about friends?” He quips before patting your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re friends again.”

“Now you could get to work and then later you can make me that stir fry that I've been dying to try.” You beam, skipping into his home.

“Only if you’re a good girl.” He challenges.

For the day, the two of you would groom the horses together. Of course, you were still quite jumpy and the bougie princess he knows you to be but it was nothing he didn’t find amusing about it anyway.

“You should seriously take a look at my note though. I really thought out all the things I had to say for you. My weeping apology was only the tip of the iceberg.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think anything in that note will top that moment but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Read it when you’re alone though. I don’t want to see your face when you read it.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you’ll be all smug about.” You say, rolling your eyes.

“And you say you hardly know me,” He chuckles then switches to a serious, gruff tone. “So…Stefan…he’s a looker. Thinking about going back on your word to end things with him.”

You laugh. “I’m playing it by ear. He says he’s changed but that’s every jerks’ favorite line.”

“Just let him know that if he ever hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.” He threatens.

You step into Eddie’s space, his face flushes at the close proximity. Your hand raises up to cradle his heated cheek. “You couldn’t hurt a fly, Edward Allan Munson.”

Lost in your eyes, he fails to notice you tug the joint nuzzled behind his ears. Until you raise it up to his face with a knowing smile. “You smoke weed?”

“Baby, I used to be a dealer. In fact, I still grow my own supply.”

“No way.”

“Oh yeah. Maybe I was the freak but those jocks and cheerleaders were begging for a piece of my supply.”

“You wouldn’t mind if we smoke this one together.” You suggest.

“After your father chewed you out for it last night?”

“He knows I do it. And I learned this morning, after our heart-to-heart, that he was once a pothead, too. And now that I know that you are also a pothead, not only does this confirm my personal theory that most people smoke weed but also this makes our friendship so much more interesting.”

“You’re starting to throw that whole ‘friendship’ word around a lot more enthusiastically now.”

“My friend’s a dealer. I’m going to take full advantage of that.” You loop your arm around his guiding him to an empty stable so you can both fall against the hay.

He picks the hay from his hair, laughing. “I don’t even have a lighter and the fumes are not safe for the animals.”

“Babe,” You say almost insulted. “I always carry a lighter. You never know when you’ll find yourself in an impromptu smoke session or possibly get lost in the middle of the woods. Besides, we released the animals into the field for their little recess. We’re the only animals left here. Just you and me.”

“Alright, fine I guess we’re doing this. Don’t tell your dad about this, though. This will just be a one time thing.”

“Mhm, yeah sure, bud,” You say nonchalantly, busying yourself with lighting the joint. You hand over the joint to him and he protests, wanting you to take the first hit. You oblige. “It’s your joint. Don’t you know the rules? The one who bringeth, smoke..eth.”

“You wanted it badly so I let you take it first.”

“I didn’t want it ‘badly’. I’m not a fucking addict,” You laugh, bellowing out a puff of smoke. “I just thought it’d be a nice bonding moment. Wanna see how you get when you’re high.”

“It’s nothing special. I’m the same as I am now.” He shrugs.

“You mean, ‘a stick in the mud’?”

He bumps you with his shoulder causing you to lay back against the hay.

“You jerk, I just pick all that out of my hair.”

“Serves you right. Now hand me the joint. You’re hogging it,” He tries to reach for it but you raise it above your head. “You’re such a tease.

He attempts to reach for it again, falling on top of you. His full weight on your body is so damn delicious it takes everything in you not to moan. It doesn’t help that the weed has heightened your senses making you feel EVERYTHING. The way his hot breath feels tickling your neck along with the way his curls on his head gently caress your skin as he reaches for the joint. He seems oblivious to the state he leaves you in even after he’s gotten it until he lets out a puff of smoke in the air then looks back down at you once again. It’s evident he can see the darkened lust in your eyes because of the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He suddenly feels so thirsty and it isn’t because of the weed.

Afraid a moment like this will be interrupted once again, you lunge forward attacking his lips. He’s caught fullg by surprise, a strangled moan swallowed up in your frenzied fit of passion. You’re the one controlling the kiss, forcing him to roll on his back so you can grind down on the sizable erection in his jeans. The friction from the fabric of your lace underwear and the rough denim of his jeans are an undefeated combination against your puffy clit, sending flood after flood of your wetness to pool between your legs.

The kisses are sloppy. Your hands are everywhere; in his hair, yanking his shirt for dear life. His hands cup your face before entwining in your hair then they’re around your neck, unable to keep them still because he’d like to feel every part of you just as you wish to do to him. Every so often growls would escape your lips as you grind harder and harder against him.

“Fuck, Eddie, you feel so fucking good.” You whisper desperately into his ear.

“So do you, sugar. Ain’t even inside you yet and I’m already about to blow.” He groans, sweaty forehead pressed against your own.

“Can I fuck you, Mr. Munson?” You plead.

And the whine Eddie lets out confirms that it won’t be happening anytime soon. You look between your bodies, seeing the dark, wet patch on his jeans then back up at him.

He’s obviously embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while.”

“That’s okay. Um, this was…this was really spontaneous.” You don’t immediately get off, wanting more and hoping he’d give you more so that he can make you cum, too.

Instead he grabs you by waist, lifting you off him in a hurry. “I’m sorry. I need to—-this was a mistake.”

And once again, he leaves you to your thoughts. All you could do is stare as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance, while you began to feel smaller and smaller on the inside.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader #beefy!eddie munson #farmer!eddie munson #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfiction #chocolate button eyes #eddie my baby #older!eddie munson x reader smut #mean!reader #bratty!reader #stranger things au

[lavendertales]

Tongue twister—Eddie Munson x f!reader

summary: a dare gets taken a little too far.

word count: 3.3k

A/N: yep, here I am in the Eddie Munson pit as well. anyway:

WARNINGS: alcohol, mentions of drugs, some heavy making out, wandering hands, tension, mutual pining. 

gif: @eivorswolfsmal​ 

There’s a nervousness about you when you think about tonight. It’s no special occasion, yet your stomach churns at the thought and your pulse increases.

You love hanging out with Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and Eddie.

Eddie.

Even the name makes you nervous.

Somehow, miraculously, you hadn’t given away the fact that you had the biggest crush on him. Either that, or everyone figured it out and they were kind enough to not mention it.

Which would’ve been horrendous news, really.

In the end, you agreed to hang out with the group, willing to eliminate any potential suspicions even before they arise.

Even though you knew everyone and their families for four years, you still weren’t certain how you got to the point where Eddie became omnipresent in your daily thoughts. Granted, he is a very lovely personality to have around, but it had gotten to quite a ridiculous degree. You always found yourself smiling at his silliest jokes, using literally any excuse to establish the littlest physical contact with him or simply looking at him from afar and admiring the spark in his eyes when he spoke about his hobbies and his love for music.

Yep. Safe to say you were smitten.

But you decided to carry that secret with you to the grave. It would’ve been a mess, and, given how close everyone in the group was with each other, it would’ve felt like you were dating them all at the same time.

“Hey. You good?”

Ah, the very reason of your inner torment, right by your side with those soft, puppy dog eyes that made you weak in the knees.

“Yeah,” you nod nervously.

“If not… let me know. I got some stuff that can help out.”

He winks at you and you frown in an attempt to disregard the feeling that gesture wakes in you.

“What kind of stuff are we talking here?” you ask, half curious and half amused.

But Eddie shushes you, bringing his index to his lips. The image makes you gulp this time, and you realize that it’s almost impossible for you to stop staring at his lips.

“Keep it down,” he warns you sweetly, leaning in towards you. “No reason to advertise to everyone here.”

“That makes me feel so special.”

He smiles, and you swear for a fleeting moment you catch him staring at your lips in return.

“That’s cause you are.”

The way he says it whilst looking up at you from your shoulder makes you ache with a burning and forbidden desire. While the rest of the group is fumbling around, getting their drinks and finally sitting on the floor of Steve’s living room, you and Eddie exchange a stare that, if you didn’t know any better, you might easily say is filled with nerve-wrecking tension.

“So… I take it you’re not gonna tell me about that stuff?”

Eddie smiles brightly, looking around before inching even closer to you—if that’s even possible.

“Depends on what you’re looking for,” he says. “If you wanna calm down, I recommend some pot. If you wanna have fun… well. I got a whole other range of stuff for that.”

“Oh, so the real deal?”

“The real deal. I’m talkin’… coke, ecstasy… real stuff.”

“We said stuff too many times.”

“So we have.”

You giggle as you notice Eddie’s face so up close to yours, but then the smile fades, and so does his. You find yourself staring at him once again, this time nearly begging him to make a move, whatever that may be. For another fleeting moment, you feel like there’s no one else around and that time itself freezes, allowing the two of you to simply exist in that one moment.

“We’re all set up, by the way,” Steve announces.

You separate from Eddie and clear your throat, looking around and noticing the group already on the floor in a circle, drinks in the middle.

“Set up for what, exactly?” Eddie asks.

“Game night. Wasn’t it obvious from the invite?”

“All you said was ‘let’s hang out’, so—“

“It’s game night, let’s leave it at that.”

You chuckle, noticing Robin’s glare your way as she sits on your right.

“What?” you ask bemusedly.

“Nothing.”

She purses her lips and takes a sip of her beer, adding nothing else and leaving you more confused than before.

“That’s your Sherlock Holmes glare,” you say.

Robin frowns at you. “My Sherlock Holmes glare?”

“Yeah, you know, when you want to figure something out you give a person that stare. If you wanna know something, you can just ask.”

“I got nothing.”

“Okay, then why—“

“I don’t know, you just seem… nervous and happy at the same time. And also very cozy next to Eddie.”

Your heart jumps in your throat as you swallow around it, trying to play things off as cool as possible.

“I’m cozy around all of you,” you laugh it off. “It’s nothing special.”

“I’d say comfortable, but cozy is a whole other thing. You seem different around him. In a good way though!”

You giggle nervously, grabbing a beer and taking a few sips before replying anything back at her. You fight with all you’ve got to not look at Eddie being immersed in a conversation with Steve.

“Look, all I’m saying is, you seem happy,” Robin concludes with a reassuring smile. “Given recent events, whatever’s causing that… it’s good. And it looks great on you, too.”

In the end, you don’t say anything in return. You find it futile. If Robin suspects something, you let her. She definitely has a knack for understanding emotional things a little bit better than the others.

After a while, you realize that game night had already begun with something called truth or dare. For several reasons, you suspect Steve is the brain behind that, but you let it slide because—well, you can’t argue that it isn’t fun.

The rules are simple: you spin a bottle, get asked truth or dare, and either you spill the beans or do something rather regrettable. You’ve seen plenty from the latter, and that’s precisely why, should the odds be against you tonight, you will undoubtedly go with the truth.

But not with the naked truth.

“Nance. Truth or dare?” Steve asks.

“Dare.”

“Ohh, look who’s being Miss Bold tonight!” Eddie comments.

Nancy giggles.

“Hit some of Jonathan’s weed.”

There are fugitive glares being exchanged, some noises of encouragement as well as surprise, but Nancy simply rolls her eyes, smiling all the while. Jonathan obeys, handing her the earthy-smelling cigarette, and Nancy completes her dare under the group’s congratulatory claps. Seconds later, she spins the bottle, which lands on you.

“Truth,” you immediately say.

Some roll their eyes and make funny faces at you.

“Guys, it’s her choice,” Nancy reminds them, then turns back to you. “Let’s see… oh, I got it! Okay. What’s one thing you would do if you knew there were no consequences?”

“Remember, full honesty,” Jonathan tells you.

“Let it all out. This is a safe space,” Steve adds.

You hesitate, gulping. You don’t look to your left where you know for a fact Eddie is staring at you. You cannot bring yourself to do that, not when you have to answer such a question. A seemingly innocent question, but with a lot more weight than the rest of the group can imagine.

“I guess… I would confess some things to someone without the fear of screwing things up or… any other consequences.”

“Ooh, what things?” Jonathan asks.

“And to whom?” Eddie jumps in.

This time you do look at him, eyes wide and fearful. You feel your heart going at the speed of light and you could faint on the spot if it wasn’t for the beer in your hand. You chug some more, then find courage to continue.

“No follow up questions,” you say.

Clearly some wanted to ask some more, but refrained themselves from doing so. You continue the game, enjoying it alongside your friends and sharing their laughter.

That is, until the bottle lands on Eddie and Steve.

“Don’t bother asking, Harrington, give me a good dare.”

“Alright, have it your way. I dare you… to kiss the most attractive person here. And notice that I charitably said person because… let’s be real here.”

He points to his own hair, to which the girls stifle chuckles.

“You really let the nickname ‘The Hair’ Harrington get to you,” Robin says.

“It is nice hair though,” Jonathan comments casually.

“Prettiest person, huh?” Eddie asks.

“Yep. Whoever you think is the most attractive here.”

You’re definitely not in the mood to see Eddie lock lips with anyone, but you can’t exactly comment out loud against it, so you suck it up. You purse your lips in anticipation, your brows furrowed in confusion as the group’s eyes land on you.

Within the following two seconds, you notice why.

Eddie’s face is in such close proximity to yours, you might faint. You hold your breath, eyes wide staring into his.

That’s one of the best things about Eddie: his eyes. His whole persona might be exuberant and lively, but his eyes are soft and soothing.

“Can I?” he checks with you.

Oh God, being so considerate and respectful too? You might explode soon.

“What—uh—are you sure?” you ask, utterly dumbfounded.

“It’s just a kiss, right?”

Wrong.

No, it’s not just a kiss. It’s the kiss.

It’s the kiss you’ve been dreaming about for who knows how long, and, by the looks of it, it’s about to happen in a less than ideal situation.

“It’s just a kiss, c’mon!” Steve encourages you.

You doubt you’ve ever had Eddie so close to you and it’s making you dizzy. All you can smell are remnants of Jonathan’s joint and Eddie’s store-bought cologne. The aftertaste of beer in your mouth is making you feel oddly self-conscious, but you doubt he would notice. Or would he? He drank beer too, he wouldn’t notice. What if he does and he hates it on a girl’s breath?

Oohh boy, you’re spiraling. This can’t be good.

“Let’s get this over with then,” you smile, hoping to disguise your nerves.

Eddie smirks—smirks!—and your heart threatens to jump out of your chest completely. The buildup is filled with wild sensations you haven’t felt before individually, let alone all at once. Your whole body is heated up, and nothing happened yet.

But then, Eddie cups your cheek and pulls your face closer to his, and you swear you go into cardiac arrest.

His lips are impossibly soft, just as you had imagined; they press gently against yours at first, forming a tender, caring kiss. You feel somewhat eased—for a split second.

Everyone’s cheers are blocked out when the kiss deepens. Any sound, any image, they all fade. All you can feel is Eddie’s presence around you, on you, and the desire to have so much more is sparked in an instant.

Both his hands hold your cheeks as your mouth opens to allow him more access, and Eddie gladly uses the moment to his advantage. He kisses you hungrily now, almost eating you alive with just his lips. It takes every ounce of self-control you have to not moan in his mouth because good lord, this is heavenly.

“Alright, we got it, dare completed!”

Steve’s voice reaches your ears and you break things off, though it does not come with ease. Surprisingly enough, once that first touch was initiated, you both realize how comfortable and warm it feels to be with each other.

Lips swollen and pupils dilated, you stare at Eddie with shock, not quite sure what to say. You hear vague complaints in the background regarding the “rating of the dare” and that the game should continue, but your blood boils in your veins and your mind is about to explode at the thought that Eddie chose to kiss you. Out of everyone in that room, Eddie chose you.

To Eddie, you are the most attractive person in that room. You wrestle to come to terms with this knowledge.

“Wasn’t so bad, was it?” Nancy tries to smooth things over.

“Not so bad? They were swallowing each other,” Steve makes a face.

“Don’t be jealous cause you didn’t get picked,” Robin scolds him.

You catch her eyes, seemingly encouraging you. The kiss clearly confirmed Robin’s theories, and now it might as well just be out in the open.

Eddie calls out your name, but you excuse yourself and stand up, rushing to the first room you can find.

You don’t know whose bedroom it is, but you don’t care. You shut the door behind you and close your eyes, trying to breathe. You seldom allow yourself to think of a potential kiss with Eddie or wonder how good of a kisser he might be, but that kiss just made it so much worse.

Now you have confirmation that he is, in fact, a great kisser. And just how the hell are you supposed to live with this knowledge and carry on with your life as usual?

But Eddie chose to kiss you. He thinks you are the most attractive person there.

It must mean something, right?

There’s a knock on the door, startling you. Your body is pressed up against the door and you can feel the knock getting insistent. Then, you hear Eddie’s calm voice calling you out.

“Are you okay? Can I come in?”

“Sorry that I basically ran away.”

“Nothing to worry about. Can we at least talk about it?”

You falter, though you crave to see him. Wild, you think. You literally saw him a few seconds ago, and now you actually miss him like you haven’t seen him in days.

You stand back and open the door, allowing Eddie in. His face radiates an apologetic expression, and you hate to think you could be the cause of that.

“I didn’t run away because of you,” you say. “It’s not because of you.”

“Was it the kiss? Was it not—?”

“No, no! No, the kiss was… it was…”

Your tongue glazes over your bottom lip, the little action catching Eddie’s attention. He doesn’t do anything to hide the fact that he is blatantly staring at your lips, and it makes you gulp again.

“I really liked it,” you finally say.

“Good. Good. Cause I thought—you know, maybe you hated it—“

“Hated it? Are you serious?”

Hands in his back pockets, Eddie shrugs and stares at you, almost begging for an explanation of some sort.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I do. It was one hell of a kiss, and… otherwise I wouldn’t have kissed you back like that because I’ve been thinking about it for so long and—“

Eddie raises his brows, approaching you with a little more confidence than before.

“You thought about us kissing?” he asks rather coyly.

And it’s quite the image for sore eyes.

“Yeah,” you admit rather embarrassed, but also eased.

“And?”

You chuckle. “You got nothing to worry about. You’re a great kisser, Eddie Munson.”

He makes a fist, excitedly jumping in the air for a while, and you giggle some more.

“I wouldn’t worry about it either if I were you,” he reassures you.

“Oh. Thanks!”

“And uh… you’re not the only one who’s thought about that.”

That wipes your smile off your face pretty fast, replacing it with shock.

“Really?” you ask.

He nods so cutely you almost tremble. Instead, you clear your throat and try to come to terms with that knowledge as well.

God, anything else and you’re gonna get a migraine.

“I thought about… plenty of things, actually,” Eddie continues.

“Like what?”

He comes closer to you, licking his lips as he stares at yours.

“This is a conversation after two, three beers,” he teases.

“Or… this is a conversation we can have after one beer, in an empty bedroom.”

You both raise your eyebrows, unsure as to where your soaring confidence rose from, but embracing it nonetheless.

“I thought about kissing you a lot,” Eddie makes it a speech. “Everywhere, all over your body. All of the sounds you’d make…”

“Oh.”

Yeah, you weren’t prepared to hear that. It made you blush in all kinds of shades of red and set your body on fire.

“In all my scenarios, you sound damn good,” he finishes, one hand barely touching the hem of your shirt, as if testing the water.

“That’s—just as well.”

“And why is that?”

“Cause you sound damn good in my scenarios too.”

He can’t take it anymore; the more he stares at you, talking about making out and touching and sounds… he nearly gets hard in an instant.

This time around, he doesn’t hesitate in pulling you in. He’s making known the fact that he does, indeed, want you, and you crumble on the spot. You feel your back hitting the door as Eddie pushes his body into yours, nearly grinding into you.

And you don’t hold back your desire either. You moan in his mouth, and it drives him insane with lust. It’s maddening, really, and, just like that, he’s hard as fuck.

He did dream about this moment for far too long. It’s well-earned and well-deserved. It’s more than he could’ve thought of, making him drunk on your presence alone.

His hands roam on your waist, accidentally pulling up your shirt, but when your hand pulls his over your now bare back, Eddie groans. He groans relentlessly, almost unable to stop. You’re both like randy teenagers, but neither of you cares.

“We should—go back—at some point,” you struggle to get out as Eddie’s lips are nibbling on your neck.

“Agreed.”

You feel him smile against your pulse and, oh God, you feel your heart race in between your legs. It’s downright debilitating, and yet you cannot stop for the life of you.

“Hey guys, is everything alright in there?”

Robin’s concerned voice from outside the door catches you both off guard, and Eddie barely manages to lift his head from the crook of your neck.

“All good, just talking!” he shouts. “Be right outside!”

You back away, straightening your shirt. “Bit too loud, Munson.”

“What was I supposed to do, whisper?”

You throw him an unimpressed gaze, and Eddie quickly pecks your lips, taking your hands into his.

“I guess we should go back out there, huh?” he checks.

“Yeah. Probably not the best idea to take things further in Steve’s house.”

“Probably not. Also because I’m pretty sure this is his parents’ bedroom.”

You look around, slightly disturbed.

“Let’s get out of here,” you say.

But Eddie doesn’t follow you yet.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he seemingly excuses himself.

You frown. “What’s wrong?”

Eddie clears his throat, a suggestive look being thrown at you. Then you get it.

“Oh! Right. Sorry.”

It’s not really an apology when you think about the fact that you managed to get him so worked up in such a short amount of time. If anything, it feels flattering.

“Hey, what was that thing you said before, confessing stuff without consequences? Since we’re… waiting.”

You stifle a chuckle, unwilling to make him feel any more uncomfortable.

“I thought it was pretty obvious by now,” you smile shyly.

“Well, yeah, but I think I’d like to hear it.”

Your nerves are becoming tougher to handle, especially when you lock eyes and see that devilish sparkle in Eddie’s that gets you going in a second.

“Okay, here it is. I really like you a lot, Eddie Munson. I think you’re amazing.”

He smiles wickedly, reaching for your wrist as he pulls you closer to him. You can’t help but fall into his lap. You cup his cheeks, kissing him selfishly, thus earning a loud groan from his side, right into your cavities.

His hands travel up your back, eager to feel and knead and mold in between his fingers, but he pulls away.

“You can’t do this to me, sweetheart,” he fake-complains.

“I mean… I can, but we should go back out there.”

“If you keep doing this, I might reconsider and ask you to lock that door cause I won’t give a crap anymore about what those guys think.”

You bite on your lower lip, awfully tempted by the visual. He’s so goddamn adorable and lustful at the same time, you could eat him up.

Maybe some other time.

“I wanna do things the right way, you know?” he says. “This, you and me. So if you’d want to go out for a bite or something…”

“I’d really like that.”

Eddie smiles so wide, it could light up the whole room.

“But no making out like this,” he protests. “It’s too much to handle.”

“Yeah, I can see it has quite the effect on you.”

He chuckles, unable to take his eyes away from you. You really are the most attractive person he’d ever seen. Warm and loving and funny… all good reasons why he’s been in love with you for years.

But that’s something to share with you another time.

next 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fic

[indouloureux]

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

"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."

#eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson #blurb #joseph quinn #joseph quinn blurb #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn fanfiction

[itsoutrageouss]

Angst eddie fic where the reader is new maybe they sit at the clubs table unintentionally, and eddie comes off as rude or pushy and unknowingly hurts the readers feelings getting them to avoid the whole table and the next day eddie apologizes after finding them in the woods crying-🍒

a/n: poor eddie would feel so bad after having hurt your feelings like that </3

words: 1k ish- idk bro

warnings: just angst, little unintentional mean!eddie, reader gets embarrassed/feels humiliated

damn prejudice - e. m.

damn prejudice series: part ii // part iii

—☕️

The cafeteria was huge- at least to you. Your old school didn’t even have one, just picnic tables outside, not to say groups and cliques weren’t something anyone bothered themselves with in such a small school.

Hawkins High was different. Albeit Hawkins not being a huge place it was definitely bigger than what you were used to, and you were overwhelmed to say the least.

That’s probably why you didn’t notice the matching shirts of everyone at the table you chose to join. You didn’t even give it second thought that maybe this was an exclusive group, that maybe social status was an actual thing here.

In general, you could be quite oblivious. There fell a tense silence over the table when you sat down, and all eyes of hellfire club turned to Eddie for a reaction. He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at you calmly like he was waiting for you to realize just where you had chosen to sit.

You on the other hand was just poking at your food, assessing the lunch menu if you will. It took you a minute or two to register the dead silence that befell only where you sat and not anywhere else.

That’s when you looked up, eyes scanning the people around you until they landed on the face right next to you at the end of the table; big, brown doe eyes that ogled you in a slightly cold manner. You felt your insides freeze along with his stare- how had you already managed to do something wrong?

“What do you think you’re doing?” His eyes narrowed as he slowly chewed his food in an over exaggerated manner. His tone wasn’t necessarily rude as much as it was filled with suspicion.

“Eating.. lunch?” You replied, more a question than an answer. Your breaths were shorter and faster than before, a sudden unwanted heat wrapping around your body in embarrassment. No one at the table dared say anything.

Usually Eddie was welcome to the newbies at Hawkins- he was known for collecting lost sheep. But someone as pretty as you couldn’t possibly be here by your own will; had the cheer squad sent you to mess with him? That had to be it

Well, he wasn’t gonna fucking fall for it.

“Yeahh, nice try,” he dragged out his words, twirling an apple in his hand. You got a feeling that he had a sense for the dramatics.

“I think you got better things to do than hang around here sweetheart. We bite,” he bit out into the air towards you, his teeth making a loud clank as they did, his hands gripping the table to lean over you. It made you jump backwards, nearly toppling over on your seat. Someone next to you chuckled; it was safe to say you felt humiliated.

Eddie laughed at you teasingly, which might have made your heart flutter under different circumstances, but now you only saw it as condescending- there was something cold in the expression he wore .

In eddies eyes he was being very just. You were new, had probably been hauled in by the cheer squad at first glance and now they had sent you on your first mission to be a true popular Hawkins high menace. Going after the freaks.

Your hands were shaking as you looked around. More unknown faces had turned to where you sat and either laughed meanly or glared at you. You didn’t feel welcome at all.

Quickly you scrambled off the bench and grabbed you lunch tray.

“That’s right, scurry off Princess,” Eddie said, feeling like he had won this little battle that was apparently all in his head. Your eyes were wide and glassy, and the milk on your tray fell to the ground with a thud due to you shaky hands.

Eddie raised his brows at that, suddenly unsure why you would be this nervous if his theory was right. Before he could ponder it, you were hurrying down the hall and out of the cafeteria- not to Jason’s table like he expected.

Shit, maybe you actually were just new and trying to make friends. Eddie would be the last person to reject anyone who felt like an outsider, especially someone as pretty as you.

He didn’t see you for the rest of the day though, still unsure wether or not his cruelty had simply been cruel or purposeful.

—☕️

Maybe you had just been incredibly naive but you did not expect to spend your second day at Hawkins high on the outskirt woods of the school— crying. You had avoided the hellfire club the remainder of yesterday and this morning, especially the boy who you found out to be named Eddie. The humiliation still crept up on you whenever someone glared at you in the halls, making your cheeks flush and palms sweaty.

You were never going to make any friends. The boy who you thought the coolest in the whole school had been mean to you and you had no idea how you were gonna last your whole senior year here. The slim, naked trees of the woods blurred together as hot tears fell down your cheeks, but you angrily wiped them away.

You were lost in thought when you heard rustling right ahead. You peered up nervously to see no one other than Eddie stepping into the little clearing at the picnic table.

After yesterday, when Jason had made fun of the fact that even Eddie rejected the new girl it became clear to him that he was all in the wrong. You were new and alone at had chosen his table to sit at- something that had never happened in hellfires history. The guilt had wrenched him from falling asleep last night and he had spent the whole morning trying to find you -at first he begged Dustin and Mike to apologise from him, since he was too nervous to do it himself- but he knew he had to be the one.

He felt the remorse once again twist in his heart when he saw your small figure curled together on the picnic bench, your tears staining the wood a darker shade. “Hey, uh,” he began, his hands out in front of him like he was trying to tame a wild animal. His tone was gentle and soft, very unlike yesterday.

“Your name’s y/n, right?” He asked with a small polite smile, to show you he wasn’t here to embarrass you again. You didn’t fall for it though, and clutched your knees tighter to your chest, merely giving him a small nod in return with a blank expression.

He sat down in front of you carefully, like any fast movement would make you run and hide.

“So now you wanna sit at the same table as me? Don’t you have better things to do?” It slipped out of you before you could stop it. It wasn’t like you to talk back but you were thoroughly blaming Eddie for your first day failure at this point.

“Yeah no, I uh- I deserve that” he snickered remorsefully. You only glared at him, waiting for whatever his purpose with you now was.

“Listen I’m really sorry about yesterday. I thought-“ he began, realising now how stupid he had been- especially when he saw the memory resurface in your eyes, now adorning fresh tears.

“I thought the basket team had sent you over to mock us or some shit. I didn’t realize you were being genuine, hanging out with the damned and all,” he huffed, trying to seem serious but light at the same time.

Your brows furrowed in question. “Why would you think that?” Your lower lip quivered and Eddie felt an urge to press his thumb against it to soothe you- he obviously didn’t, the boy barely knew you. He cursed himself for thinking like that when he was trying to apologise

“I don’t know. Cause you’re pretty-“ he cursed himself once again- way to go buddy. “anyways I’m the last person who should be carrying prejudice about anyone. I’m sorry for being mean to you, sweetheart.”

You looked at him again, those brown eyes big and pleading. He looked entirely different than yesterday, cheeks slightly flushed from blushing, eyes curious and lips quirked in a soft, nervous smile. He was quite endearing, you thought. And he called you pretty.

You wiped your eyes in a failed attempt to hide your crying. Eddie wasn’t even gonna touch on the fact that he made you cry your first week here- he felt awful.

“You’re welcome at hellfire anytime, I promise you.” His hand slightly reached over the table as a sort of olive branch, but he retracted it again in fear of looking stupid.

“Hellfire?” You asked, taking note of his hand now nervously tapping the surface of the wooden table.

“Yeah, y’know.. you didn’t see the t-shirts?” He asked with a teasing smile; but a kind one this time. You shook your head with a dry chuckle, rolling your eyes at you own obliviousness once again.

“We’re a DnD club. Some of us play music, too,” you listened intently to everything he said, your eyes as big and curious as his whenever he talked. How the hell had he managed to be mean to someone like you?

“I’ve played a little DnD at my old school. Have a guitar too,” you added softly, glad to have something in common with him. He lit up at your words.

“You’ll have to show me, one day. You could join the campaign I’m starting too, next week if you’d like?” He asked, still somehow nervous that you’d now reject him.

Instead you nodded enthusiastically, reaching for his hand and placing yours on top of it.

Maybe senior year wasn’t gonna be so bad, after all.

— next part ☕️

#eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #Joseph Quinn #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn imagines #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagines #stranger things smut #damn prejudice

[boa-hemian]

I’m still not over this???

#joe quinn fandom #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fandom #joseph quinn fanfiction

[icallhimjoey]

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

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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[forrestfantasy94]

Ladies and gentlemen..him

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x reader #hell fire club

[honey-flustered]

Teaser For…

Along For The Ride 2 (MDNI+18)

Farmer!Older!Beefy!Eddie Munson x Rich!Mean!Reader

You insist. “This is all my fault. I kissed you.”

“And I initiated the whole thing by getting on top of you.” Eddie argues.

“Only because I practically enticed you to reach over me.”

“Except you didn’t have to do much enticing, if any at all,” He says intensely, taking a step closer and hovering over you. “I knew you’d give me the goddamn joint but I reached for it because I…because I wanted to feel…shit, I—I don’t know. But what I did was wrong. In a way, I’m like your temporary boss—-mentor, even. It feels like some corrupt power dynamic I’ve established—-“

“I wanted it,” You say, thwarting his ‘power imbalance’ theory. “I kissed you because I wanted to. That’s it. I was horny, getting high, your lips were there, your body…god, your body was on mine and I wanted to kiss you so badly it hurt.”

You hadn’t noticed how intense things had become until you could hear your labored breaths; panting heavily and not once breaking eye contact.

“You were a gentleman,” You continued. “My brain was fogged up with lust and you could have easily taken advantage of that. You..did right by ending things before it got too far. My body doesn’t realize that. In fact, it still curses you for leaving me high and dry—or wet, for the matter. But you are, indeed, the more responsible adult between us.”

He laughs dryly, shaking his head. “Gentleman? If I stayed a second longer…if you asked me to…I’m not sure I’d have had the strength to stop it.”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning, staring up at him with doe eyes. “What do we do now?”

…..

Working on it consistently and yall know it’s slow burn so when that sex scene hit, it’ll hit different lol

Read part 1 here

Series Taglist: @emma77645 , @eddiesguitarskills , @makaylalovessmut , @supersmexyandhot , @mykuup , @person-005 , @serenadingtigers , @only4wakingup , @anobbs-blog , @empathyroad , @micheledawn1975 , @123iloveyou456 , @ireidsmut , @tlclick73 , @mrsmunson86baby , @zestychili , @cupid-club

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #older!eddie x reader #older!eddie #older!eddie munson x reader smut #farmer!eddie munson #mean!reader #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn characters #beefy!eddie munson #chubby!eddie munson #dom!eddie munson #sub!reader #switch!reader #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things au #eddie munson au #slow burn #eddie munson angst

[indouloureux]

eddie and reader in an argument?? basically eddie misses something that he was supposed to do for her like picking her up after work or she had this big thing she hoped eddie would show up to but he got caught up on something and its not the first time it happened? but pls make it a happy ending

aaaa some hurt/comfort me love. thank you for requesting! <3

eddie winces when you slam the door open, doorknob colliding loudly against the wall as you does so. and he's sputtering out your name and stop like a mantra. but you don't.

"sweetheart, i-..." he sighs, hands falling limp to his sides as you enter the bathroom, a hasty hand opening the faucet as you begin to wash your hands. "can you please just...look at me?"

his plea was reasonable, at least. you haven't looked at him since he picked you up from the studio. poor naive eddie had expected you jumping into his arms, except he'd been greeted by an irate stance of crossed arms and foot tapping; eyes he's been daydreaming of eschew from him and it hurts his chest that you're avoiding his sight.

the car ride was silent. and he even played your favorite songs as you made your way home. but nothing made you look at him, and he wonders if the empty streets of hawkins was more interesting than the fact that he chose to listen to your songs.

eddie's how are you? was greeted by a curt i'm fine. his how was your day? was answered with a shrug. his kiss was chastised by the contact of your cheek, and both his hands were on the steering wheel than your thigh. his heart ached, really, when you kept on scooting in your corner the closer you got from home.

you turn the faucet off, a small squeak heard. you wipe your hands on your jeans, running your slightly damp fingers through your hair before you finally look at him. the frustration is evident by the way your pupils were almost a speck to nothing, a slight flare on your nostrils. although what makes him nervous the most was by the way your jaw clenches.

"what, eddie?"

he looks nervously at your hand on the sink, then at the hand on your hip before he directly looks at your irritated face. "did i do something, baby? you- you haven't looked at me since i picked you up and you sound- well, are you mad?"

you sigh, in a way that tells you're tired. physically, emotionally, his poor mind's still figuring it out. eddie has a hand lifted to reach out to you. "i don't know, eddie. i'm- i'm just tired. let's go to bed."

"hey, hey, no," he stops you on your way out, his body blocking the doorway, hands on your arms to stop you. the courage you've gathered to look at him is torn apart when you refuse to look him in the eyes once more. "talk to me, baby, come on."

"eddie, i'm tired—"

"no. no, you said communication m-makes the relationship work. so you tell me now. we're not sleeping until you tell me what's wrong," eddie frowns, trying to gather up all his patience. "please, (y/n). come on."

you close your eyes, tightly, the wrinkles around your eyes deepening until you open them and stare at him. "you didn't show up to my artshow, eddie."

oh.

his face falls, thoughts now dawned upon the realization. eddie was late to your show, one he promised about. one you talked about for weeks and one he's been listening to nonstop from how proud he was. and he was late.

five hours late, to be exact. kept you waiting outside in the cold with nothing but a thin shirt and jeans, spent two cigarettes as your thoughts filtrated around worry. and when he showed up, he had the nerve to think that everything was okay.

eddie knew how important it was to you. the same person who you expected to show up and come support you like you'd do to his gigs, never went through the door; never clapped and cheered for you.

"sweetheart," he exhales, eyebrows scrunched into a tiny raise. eddie swallows his tears, lets it hurt his throat because he doesn't deserve to cry over his mistake. "i'm so sorry."

"no, eddie! you- you promised!" you jab a finger through his chest before you wedge your thumbnail in between your teeth, blinking rapidly. "you said you'd be there! you told me every day for the past two weeks that you'd be there. and then- and then you weren't and you just left me hanging with my expectations!"

you stab your finger at his hard chest at every word, your voice wavering, filling it with this thorns around your throat that it hurts to speak while you hold back your tears. eddie takes in the pain that your nail gives, but eventually wraps his hand around your wrists.

"i know. i know, baby, i'm sorry." eddie suspires. "i just— i got caught up with the deal. they took too long. i'm sorry, it won't happen again."

you sniffle, loudly that it echoes around the porcelain walls of the bathroom. you refuse to look at him, and glare at the red pick that hangs on his chest instead. his heart aches when your bottom lip wobbles as you say, "you know, that's not the first time you said that. and every time i hear you say it, i always wished i'd never hear it again."

i'm sorry, it won't happen again.

the same words he said when he missed your performance at the pep rally and at the championship game, when he was late to picking you up from work, when he missed your dinner date that you worked hard for. countless events, arguments ended with the same six words before you both fall asleep and pretend it didn't happen because you both fool yourselves to.

"there's this voice at the back of my head that kept on whispering to me that you might be late," you mutter. "and i didn't believe it because you promised, eddie. you promised. and i believed you because i thought that you'd never really do it again. that- that you've learned—"

his heart aches at the two tears that roll down your cheeks. and before he can stop them, there's a bijou of tears that stroll down. eddie cups your face, but you shake your head to move them away. "i learned. i learned, (y/n). i promise that i learned. it's just that—"

"it's just what, eddie?" you furrow your eyebrows. "it's just that your campaign was too long and you forgot and you couldn't disappoint them? it's just that some- some guy stopped you over and asked for weed? or you took dustin to talk to his girlfriend or helped gareth with his guitar? it's just what, eddie? hm?"

"what?" he narrows his eyes at you. "baby, don't put words into my mouth-"

"i'm not," you almost yell, wiping your palm on your forehead. "i'm listing down the same reasons you tell me whenever you weren't there."

eddie lets his reason die in his throat and takes all the pain your words stab to him. he sniffles, feeling his own tears at his waterline as he stupidly decides to wrap his arms around you. you try to push him away, but your tears render you weak — pushing at his chest was as useless as the reason he tries to calm you down with.

"i'm starting to feel like i'm not important to you anymore," you whisper exasperatedly. "it's like- like all my achievements, or-or my hardwork don't matter anymore. because you're always not there, eddie."

he doesn't let go, keeps you tight to his chest as you spend all your energy into pushing him away. but with all your vigor ripped to its seams, you give in, sinking into his chest as you limply wrap your arms around his elbows. eddie whimpers at your sobs, muffled by his shirt that now has tear stains — color darkening by your cries.

"i'm sorry," he repeats. "i'm sorry. i'm so, sorry, baby i-" i promise it won't happen again. he wants to say. but he's afraid of breaking his stupid promise; afraid of breaking your heart again.

"you can just-" you wipe your nose on his sleeve. "you can't just hug me and say i'm sorry every time you disappoint me by breaking your promise, eddie."

every time you disappoint me.

his heart breaks. but he knows he's right. disappointment's always expected in relationships, anyway. it's not like he's never been disappointed in you before.

eddie shushes you, pats your unkempt hair down as he lets a few tears drop down his cheeks and onto your hair as he kisses the top of your head.

"i promise it won't happen again," he says. "i- i love you. okay? you're important to me. i'm very fucking sorry that i wasn't always there. okay so- so from now on, i'm cancelling all those stupid deals, okay?" eddie bends down, placing his hands on your shoulders. and he fights the urge to smile when you finally look into his eyes. "i promise you that i'll be there. break up with me if i break that promise, okay?"

the corners of your lips tug down, before you surprisingly let out a short laugh as you push his hair behind his ears, brushing his bangs away from his forehead as you cup his face.

"i won't break up with you. but i'll hit you in your balls, eddie, i swear," you sniffle. "just promise me, okay?"

"i promise," he nods, taking you into his arms once more. "you're- you matter to me, okay?"

you want to believe him. really. but that's the point in this whole thing — which promise to believe is unknown. it's where the trust is built. so you nod, letting him wipe your tears away. "okay. okay okay. just. be there, okay?"

"yeah." he nods. "i'll be there. even at the fucking bathroom while you pee, i'll be there. or- or at an alternate dimension. or even when you ask me to follow you into mordor. i'll do it, baby."

you laugh, and it's the best thing he's ever heard the entire night.

reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3

#eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson #blurb #joseph quinn #joseph quinn blurb #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn angst #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn fanfiction #hurt/comfort

[joekeeryswife]

Late Nights - J.Q

kind of like a Joe Keery imagine i did but for Joseph, enjoy loves <3

you'd been out with your friends for your friend, Ruby's birthday. you and Joseph shared a two bedroom apartment and you loved that you and Joseph were finally living together after being with each other for 4 years.

you entered the apartment, slipping off your heels at the door, walking through the apartment as quiet as you could, hoping to not wake up Joseph. you walked to the bathroom, turning on the light as you entered it. you started taking off the makeup you had on, feeling relieved that you were finally home, being able to be makeup free.

once you'd finished taking off your makeup, you turned around to go get your pyjamas but noticed the huge t-shirt and shorts on the heated towel rack. your heart swelled when you realised Joseph had put them on there. one thing about you was you felt the cold very easily, every night before bed you would leave your pyjamas on the towel rack to heat them so they'd be nice and warm for when you put them on.

you quickly changed into the pyjamas, the warmth taking over you as you slipped on the t-shirt and shorts. you switched off the bathroom light after brushing your teeth, walking down the dark corridor which had a few sentimental photos of you and Joseph on it, carefully opening the bedroom door. you heard light snores coming from Joseph as he clung to a pillow, his body facing the door.

usually, you would walk round to your side of the bed, giving both you and Joseph enough room but tonight, you just wanted to be held. you closed the bedroom door behind you and walked towards the bed. you carefully moved the duvet off of him and lifted up his right arm, allowing yourself to get into bed, your arm wrapping around him. he woke up slightly, moving backward a bit so you had enough room.

"hi sweetheart" he said, kissing your forehead softly. you dug your head into his chest, feeling him lazily stroke your clothes back. "missed you" you replied, eyes closing as his movements continued. "missed you too love. you have fun?" he said, voice croaking. you nodded, tiredness taking over you.

your left leg wrapped around his waist as you pulled yourself closer into his embrace, his hand running through your hair making you sigh in contentment. something you loved about Joseph was his hugs. he gave the most amazing hugs, always filled with warmth and love.

you were almost asleep when he suddenly stopped running his hand through your hair making you whine. "Joey, why did you stop" you said, arm moving around to find his hand to put it back on your hair. "sorry sweetheart, i thought you were asleep" he said, his hand running through your hair again.

his hands massaged your scalp and ran down your hair, detangling any knots he came across, making sure to be gentle. he had his eyes closed, the warmth of his body making him your own personal radiator. "you're so warm" you said, breaking the comfortable silence that filled the room. he laughed at your comment, leaving a few small kisses on your head. "you are so beautiful" he said, hand never leaving your hair. you smiled into his chest, a light blush spreading across your cheeks. no matter what, even after four years of being with him, he would always make you blush with his compliments.

"thank you" you said, happiness filling your body. "i love you" he said, pulling you closer to him, you didn't think it was possible to be that close but here you were, closer than ever. "i love you more" you whispered, sleep finally taking over you as his hand never stopped playing with your hair. once Joseph knew you were 100% asleep, he leant back and looked down, seeing your sleeping face. he always thought you looked most peaceful when you were sleeping and he just could watch you all day.

he smiled as he watched your chest rise and fall with each breath and he went back to hugging you. he left small kisses on the top of your head before finally shutting his eyes, getting back to sleep. the both of you hugged for that whole night, neither one of you wanting to let go. you both loved each other so much and you were so lucky to have one another.

#fanfiction #imagines #joseph quinn character #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn blurb #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn imagines #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagines #eddie x reader #eddie munson

[rae0fsunsh1ne]

That Look ™

He’s just so dreamy

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