#love quinn fanfic

[thegirlwiththeblush]

Honest

- Love Quinn x Reader

- Word Count: 2,484

- Shared prompt with @vorsdany

Summary: Reader pursues a crush on Love Quinn, only to discover she’s not exactly what she seems. 

a/n: sometimes i just throw words together and they’re not great but i try

I’m not sure what it was that first caused me to fall for Love Quinn.  

It’s not that there wasn’t anything about her that stood out; quite the opposite, in fact. In a city full of self-absorbed, fame-hungry narcissists, her kind heart and unreserved smile were a sight for sore eyes. She never forgot a face, and she never refused anyone her time or her effort. Being the younger sibling of her twin brother Forty’s best friend, I’d had the opportunity to watch her grow into a strong and generous young woman.  

So it was really no wonder that I’d taken a fancy to her. But I wanted to know why it took so long.  

I remember the day I figured out that I was attracted to her; it wasn’t that the feelings developed then, but rather, it felt like I stumbled upon them, already existing, hidden deep in my mind.  

The four of us had been out picnicking, a rare opportunity we’d taken when the Quinns had the day off from Anavrin and my brother wasn’t working on one of his hundreds of projects. When our brothers had decided to crack open some beers and start discussing business concepts and Forty’s never-ending script ideas, Love and I excused ourselves to sit mindlessly and make daisy chains.  

“Y’know,” Love said, breaking the silence as she gently split a stem, “these are actually two flowers in one.”  

I raised an eyebrow in intrigue, waiting for her to elaborate. A lock of hair slipped over her shoulder from behind as she leaned forward, continuing.

“The yellow in the centre is a separate bloom from the petals,” she explained. “It turns out a plant is better at multitasking than humans are.”

I chuckled at her joke and returned my attention to my task. She began humming softly, a tune I couldn’t quite put my finger on, but the melody moved something in me. I looked up at her again, taking her all in; her hair draping into the long grass as she leaned forward, her long, slender fingers working delicately. She ceased her humming for a moment, and without moving her head, her eyes darted up to meet mine, a small smile breaking her focus as she caught me in the act. Then, as if nothing had happened, she continued her song, murmuring the lyrics, and even shuffling closer to me.  

The solace I found in her presence in that moment, the sense of safety and absolute comfort, awakened something in me.  

Hardly a day went by once I discovered my feelings for her that I didn’t pop in to Anavrin. I didn’t always say hi; sometimes I’d just watch her through the kitchen window, admiring her focus and enthusiasm as she baked and cooked for her friends. There was a good chance she knew I was there; if I ever encountered her in the store, she’d flash a knowing grin at me, as if she was proud of keeping my secrets to herself. Occasionally I was invited to events with her, Forty, and my brother, but these were rather infrequent, and far from enough to feed my curiosity, so I had to resort to my little spy missions.  

“I honestly don’t know why you like her so much,” Delilah said as she sipped at her smoothie. She sat across from me in our favourite café, an umbrella over our table protecting us from the unforgiving Los Angeles sun. I shifted shyly in my seat, the sweat on the back of my legs gluing me to it. Delilah was one of my closest friends, but she was never one to mince words, even with those she cared about; not to mention, with her independent mindset, she probably wouldn’t call me one of her closest friends.  

“The Quinns are just a bunch of rich, stuck-up bitches,” she continued, pushing her shades up to the top of her head as she sat back. “Love’s the only decent one, but even if she was worth it, I’d never marry into that family.”

No one said anything about marriage, but I could see her point.

“It’s nothing, really,” I insisted. “It’s probably just a passing fascination, honestly; no one else here is interesting enough.”

I expected her to get snarky about me inadvertently calling her uninteresting, but she simply stuck out her lower lip and tilted her head in agreement. “Everyone thinks they are,” she pointed out.  

Unfortunately, she had a solid point.  

That afternoon, after Delilah had gone back to the hotel she managed to check in on her younger sister, I gave in to my tendencies and headed towards Anavrin. I wondered if the other employees there were wary of me, always coming in and, most of the time, leaving with nothing. Not that it was going to stop me, but I didn’t want to come off as some loiterer or stalker.  

“Hello, again, stalker.”

I spun round to face Forty Quinn, raising an eyebrow to appear confused by his accusation. He smirked, not at all convinced by my ploy. “You have a contender,” he added innocently, gesturing in the direction I had been heading. Turning to follow his gaze, I saw a young man around Love’s age, chatting casually with Love. I blinked rapidly; she looked so engaged, so enraptured by him, that I immediately felt jealousy bubbling up in my throat.  

“You’re jealous.”  

I turned back to face him, shoving my emotions down. “I’m not,” I argued calmly. “I’m very happy for her actually.”

“Mhm.” He nodded sarcastically, obviously not buying it. “Maybe you should’ve made a move sooner, huh, sport?”  

I squinted at the nickname but didn’t have the courage to roll my eyes. Who knew what Forty could do to me if he got wound up. Instead, we both continued spying on the newbie and Love. They were too far for us to catch the entire conversation, but I heard enough to figure out his name was Will, and he’d just been hired to work in the Anavrin café. So he’s gonna be sticking around? Damn it.  

 It was Forty’s turn to raise an eyebrow at the long, wistful gaze they exchanged, before Love excused herself, leaving Will to watch her while Forty and I ducked behind a bookshelf to avoid Love.  

“Something definitely just blossomed there, sport,” he whispered to me, rubbing his chin thoughtfully with his thumb and forefinger. “I’m gonna have to keep a close eye on this Will guy.” He looked at me with a glint in his eye. “And you’re gonna have to up your game.”  

I left before I could get myself caught up in any more of Forty’s scheming, but not before buying a frosted bun from the café so as not to look suspicious.  

I wasn’t really sure what to expect when it came to Will. Love had never been interested in anyone since her husband James had passed; I’d always used this as an excuse for myself not to approach her with my feelings. But as I continued my little missions to Anavrin, and the more I observed Will, the more I began to question any chance I could have with the older Quinn twin. His character seemed so much deeper and more interesting than mine. He organized the bookshelves and stands in such a way that made him seem worthy of managing the store. Even Forty had taken a strong liking to him, enough to make me feel a twinge of jealousy.

“A good story cannot be devised,” Will said, speaking as if poor Forty could recognize literary quotations outside of comic strips and B-grade movie scripts, “it has to be distilled. That’s Raymond Chandler,” he added when Forty had no reaction but complete dissociation.  

Forty slapped Will’s shoulder in delight, saying “Exactly!”, trying to give the impression that he’d felt Will’s sentiment in the depths of his soul. The quotation would’ve been better appreciated by Love, and I hated that.  

Forty stepped back, surveying Will’s face in deep thought. “Sport,” he said. “Come with me to Harold night after work. I’m talent scouting.”

I turned away before I could catch more of the conversation and let it sting me any more. Sport. That was my nickname.  

Forty wasn’t the one I was trying to win over. But if he was a harbinger of what was to come, things weren’t looking so good.

As if things couldn’t get more complicated, my brother was offered an amazing business proposal out of state the very week I spotted Forty and Will chatting. A golden opportunity, there was no way he could turn it down; and while I’d never left California, there was no way I was sticking around if he wasn’t staying. Not when my two best friends were being snatched away from me by some tall, gangly nerd.  

Unless.

Maybe there was still some chance I could win Love over, if I was finally honest with her.

The next time I came into Anavrin, Love was in the kitchen; fortunately, the Quinns had given my brother and I complete access to the store, and most of the staff knew me. I made my way through the halls of lockers, fighting the urge to flip off Will as I passed him.

I opened the kitchen door softly so as not to startle Love, and blushed a little when a surprised smile came over her face at the sight of me. “Good morning,” she greeted as she slid some oven mitts on, “care for a muffin?”

I closed the door behind me and pulled up a chair next to the counter. “What kind?”

“Apple cinnamon,” she replied. I bristled as a wave of heat from the oven washed over me, and Love removed a tray from inside. The most tantalizing smell overwhelmed my nostrils, and my mouth immediately started watering. Good Lord, I was gonna have to be at my most vulnerable during this difficult conversation; I really had my work cut out for me.

  “What brings you here, other than my unmatchable baking skills?” she asked. She handed me a muffin on a paper towel, the sweet aroma floating up into my face. I breathed in deep before answering.  

“I’m sure Forty’s told you about my brother,” I began, before blowing on the muffin and taking a bite. An impossibly perfect texture; it held its shape when bitten into, but melted in the mouth. Why did everything she did have to be absolutely flawless?  

“Yeah, he mentioned it yesterday,” she agreed, leaning back against the bench with a muffin of her own. “I’m excited for him! Are you moving with him?”

And here we were. The moment I’d denied myself for so long, but had no choice but to face now.  

“That’s actually why I came to see you,” I said, lowering my voice. “I’m not sure.”

She tilted her head curiously. “Where do you feel more drawn to?”

I took another mouthful of muffin to stall myself up, before looking up to meet her gaze. Swallowing hard, the cinnamon flavour suddenly making breathing more difficult, I mumbled, “I feel drawn to you, Love.”

She grinned widely. “Aw, that’s sweet! I think you’re a great friend, too.”

I closed my eyes slowly. She was only making this more difficult. I bit my lip before adding, “I’m drawn to you in a way friends don’t understand.”  

I didn't open my eyes. I was afraid of what I'd find; embarrassment? Disgust? A mix of both? My chances with her seemed to be growing slimmer the longer I gazed at the back of my eyelids, so I finally gave in and looked back up.  

But what I saw deeply unsettled me. Her gaze had turned dark, her beaming expression completely erased.  

“You don’t want me,” she murmured, her voice and tone lowered to an almost-deathly note. “Trust me.”

I blinked, putting the muffin on the bench behind me as I tried to recover my voice. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” she continued. “What I’ve done.”

What was she talking about? The way she spoke, it didn’t seem like she was just talking about relationships...

“Listen,” she said, stepping away from the bench and towards me. I felt as if I should get up and step back, but I didn’t move. “I think it’d be wise if you moved with your brother, okay? Feelings come and go... and they, can’t be trusted.”  

And in that moment, as Love gazed down at me, with a look that didn’t belong to any Love I thought I knew, I didn’t love her.

I feared her.  

I left with an abrupt farewell, leaving the muffin behind due to a sudden loss of appetite. The moment I got home, I began packing my things to move with my brother.  

As months passed, I’ll admit, I couldn’t help but keep tabs on Love. While the things she’d said to me had frightened me in a way I couldn’t understand, curiosity got the best of me; maybe I could uncover whatever secret she held that separated her from the Love I thought I’d loved. I watched as she married Will, had a child with him, moved to Madre Linda to have more privacy (not enough to evade my stalking).  

All through that time, I tried to bring up what had happened with my brother. He called me paranoid, told me I was overthinking or reading into her words, but I never backed down. The Love I’d seen that morning was someone to be wary of. I wanted to prove it to him so badly.  

Until she died.

The story managed to make it to a news channel in LA, so it required no stalking on my part. After sending out a suicide note, Love had burned down her home, with her and Joe inside. No one yet knew what had become of their son, Henry, but they’d found remains of the two of them in the aftermath of the fire.  

“Fucking hell,” my brother murmured, resting his head in one hand as he watched the article play out. “When you told me she was crazy...” He waved his other hand at the TV. “I’d never expected this.”  

I bit my lip and asked him to change the channel. I stared at the TV, trying to keep my attention on the mindless sitcom he’d switched it to. It bugged me, that after I’d been honest and open for the first time in all my life, I’d been given dishonesty and mystery in return. But, of course, there was nothing I could do now. There was no way I could find out what she’d meant that day, or what she’d done that made her someone to be afraid of.  

Maybe it was best to let sleeping dogs lie, and forget all about Love Quinn.

#love quinn #you #you netflix #victoria pedretti #joe and love #love quinn fanfic #you fanfic

[munsonshair]

THE HAIR, THE GLASSES, THE EYESSSS😩😩😍😍😍😍😍

#eddie munson #stranger things 4 #eddie stranger things #joseph quinn #stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #eddie my love #jo quinn #eddie oneshot #eddie headcanons #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn oneshot #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x y/n

[wineauntie]

omggg you could you maybe do little blurbs or headcanons for quinn x single mom reader? for example how sweet of a dad figure quinn would be for evie on valentine’s day and spoiling her rotten? btw love your writing so much!!

HEADCANONS — Quinn Hughes x single mom!reader

based on this one shot

note: Oh, no need to ask twice, I love Quinn x single mom reader with my whole heart. This includes how you guys met, Quinn meeting Evie and all the cute inbetweens!

warnings: a tiny little suggestive content halfway through but nothing major- sex is implied, fem!reader, just tooth rotting fluff for the rest of it.

Quinn knew he loved you from the moment he’d met you.

You and Quinn had a meet-cute. Meaning, he physically ran into you outside a coffee shop, causing all of your coffee to spill down his front.

He remembered cursing in shock only to turn into a flustered mess when you began to apologise and offer him tissues. That drama turned into him asking to buy you another coffee to which you agreed.

You hadn’t known who Quinn was or why some people had stared as he ordered you a coffee (You 100% just assumed it was because he was attractive)

You two talked for just over an hour before you parted ways (his number securely in your pocket as you went).

And the rest is history

You went on a date with him to a restaurant downtown. During this date you brought up the fact you had a daughter and that if that was a problem, then he should leave.

Quinn stayed. To him, it didn’t matter if you had a child.

You’d left the date blushing like a school kid whose crush had admitted to liking them back.

The two of you took it slowly, but around two months into your relationship, when Quinn asked you to be his girlfriend, you knew it was time to introduce him to Evie.

Evie, who was two at the time, had no idea who the man was holding her mom’s hand. She ended up throwing her teddy at him before running straight between your legs to hide.

Quinn had brought Evie pink and purple flowers after being told they were her favourite colours.

Evie had never been given flowers and instantly began to like Quinn.

I can just imagine Quinn crouched down introducing himself and Evie giggling.

“Oh hello, I’m Quinn,”

“Win.”

You’d stifle a laugh at Evie’s attempt to say his name.

“Yeah, Quinn!”

Quinn would be so unphased by Evie being unable to say his name, even when Evie began to call him Winnie, he secretly loved it.

Quinn became a constant in you and Evie’s life. He’d come to see you and Evie almost every day, or at least as much as his schedule would let him.

Evie would be obsessed with him, and Quinn? Oh, he adored being around you and her.

Evie would babble nonsensical words mixed with a few normal words and he’d nod and talk back to her, holding a conversation.

And don’t even think Quinn is above having tea parties with Evie because he is the one who suggests them.

I imagine you running to collect the post from your building's postbox only to come back and hear giggling from the living room.

You would find Quinn sitting cross-legged on the floor with a tiara and a sparkly pink cape opposite Evie in a princess dress and obnoxiously large sunglasses.

You had to take a picture before entering and joining them. That picture was your lock screen for so long.

Quinn more often than not spent the night at your apartment.

You’d given up a few drawers so that he could keep some things in your place.

It was easier to meet in your apartment because all of Evie’s things were there but the times you and Evie went to his apartment? those were like going on holidays for Evie.

Quinn’s apartment was considerably bigger than yours and when he’d begun to date you, he changed one of his two guest rooms into a room for Evie.

So imagine your surprise when you brought Evie over for the first time and found an entire princess-themed room filled with toys just for Evie.

You’d cried and Quinn had nervously scratched his head until you’d hugged him and thanked him for being so kind.

Evie had loved her room and begged you to stay over more.

And so when Quinn had asked you to move in with him a few months later, you’d jumped at the opportunity.

Quinn had surprised you with over fifty bundles of your favourite flowers as a ‘welcome home’ gift.

Your parents offered to watch Evie overnight to allow you and Quinn time to sort out the apartment.

Let’s just say the two of you christened the house…in multiple places…multiple times.

You’d curled up that night beside Quinn that night and had basked in the glow of your new home.

You’d already spent a Valentine’s Day with Quinn but at that stage, he hadn’t met Evie yet.

On Valentine’s morning, Quinn woke up at eight o’clock to make you and Evie a special breakfast— pancakes with a variety of toppings.

He’d gently woken up Evie and carried her into your room, placing her gently beside you. You’d barely stirred as Quinn pressed a loving kiss to your forehead whilst Evie cuddled close to your side.

He returned ten minutes later with breakfast, to which Evie and you had laughed and dragged him down into a one-handed hug.

He had sat down on the end of the bed and ate with the two of you, his eyes gleaming as the two of you enjoyed the food. (He’s an acts of service kind of guy and, hell, moments like those made his heart swell).

After the three of you had gotten ready, Quinn surprised you both with flowers. He was taking you out for dinner that night and in order to lessen Evie’s fear of missing out, he’d bought her a few gifts.

“It’s a bracelet,”

“That’s my name!”

You’d never forget how Evie beamed at the silver as Quinn clasped it onto her little wrist.

“And these are so you can come onto the ice with me,”

Quinn had bought her tiny black skates with pink lining, specifically for teaching Evie to skate as she’d begged him to for so many weeks.

Evie had been so overwhelmed by glee that she’d burst with excitement and lunged toward Quinn for a hug.

Quinn really is the best dad figure for Evie. He cares for her so wholeheartedly and so unwaveringly.

This man is so protective over her and you, it’s ridiculous.

Evie would come home with you from doing an odd shop and tell Quinn all about how some man was talking to you– he’d been flirting and you’d rejected all advances.

“And I throw bag of pasta at him, Winnie!”

“Atta girl! Good job!”

The two of them would high-five before Quinn would grab Evie and jostle her around as she laughed.

Quinn would be so protective over Evie in a way that made your heart so full.

Evie would come skipping home one day claiming that she and Tommy from school were married.

Quinn would immediately spring into dad mode and begin questioning who this boy was, what was his full name, where is he from, what’s his parents’ names, etc.

You would laugh off this protectiveness as Quinn stubbornly pouted at the lack of responses from Evie.

Quinn had gone to every parent-teacher conference with you, every recital or school event and every career day.

In fact, Evie became one of the most popular people in class when they found out that her ‘Q’ was a famous hockey player.

(Evie had begun to reference Quinn as her ‘Q’ since she was able to pronounce them at three. She knew Quinn wasn’t her dad but her 'Q' was basically the same.)

She began calling him dad when she was four and Quinn melted. You were overjoyed that your daughter had someone other than you to trust and love like a parent.

Evie asks Quinn why he always has ‘boring’ colours on his hockey stick, so he always wraps one stripe of pink tape around it in honour of Evie. (Then another stripe the same colour as your eyes just above it.)

When you’d brought Evie to her first hockey game, Quinn had gotten her a custom ‘Winnie, 43’ jersey. He’d also given you a Hughes 43 jersey, which he all but demanded you two wear to your first game.

Quinn had scored two goals that evening and dedicated both goals to his girls up in the box.

You and Evie had cheered so loudly for him and after the game, the three of you had headed home and celebrated with a movie night.

All in all, Quinn loves the little family he found and you guys love him just as much.

As you might be able to tell, I am OBSESSED with father figure! Quinn. I love him too much and would be more than willing to turn this into a series, I can’t lie <333

#wineauntie #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #hughes brothers x reader #nhl x reader #i love quinn hughes what a man #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes #father figure!quinn hughes #x reader #quinn hughes x single mom!reader #family is family universe

[ilythena]

𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 || 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

★SUM falling in love with Quinn was bad, but realizing you loved him was worse.

friends to lovers! My fav trope, Arguing and Quinn thinks you’re too good for your boyfriend, distance, angst, mutual pining, there are slight mentions of a very toxic relationship and abuse so please be advised before reading any further below the line. NOT proofread so……

♪ FIREWORKS - DRAKE

“Quinnifer, pass me the pepper?” “Stop calling me that.”

Cooking spaghetti with a grumbling Quinn over your shoulder, you smile when he begrudgingly hands you what you need and goes back to watching you make the food.

It’s a normal routine for you two, being roommates in college and then eventually working in the same field when Quinn got accepted into umich and you became a part of the medical team for them as an intern and a student, it was pretty difficult to separate you two.

“You excited for the fourth? I can’t wait for the fireworks!” You squeal, and quinn lets out a small smile at your excitement. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to as you about that.” He says, and you turn your eyes off the food for a second to let him know to continue, and he sighs out before speaking. “I was wondering if you wanted to come hang with me and my family? My parents keep asking about how you are and they miss you” he shys out and you laugh.

You met Quinn’s family completely on accident. Last year, Your mutual friend was hanging out with him and when you had stopped by the house he was in, Quinn and his whole family was there as well. It wasn’t awkward for a second, his mother opening up her arms to you and it was like you were with your own family.

“Actually, my parents are going out the country so i’d love to! How are your parents? Your Brothers too.” You turn off the stove and move to grab two plates, making them for you two.

“They’re good. They miss you too, especially Luke.” Quinn grabs a fork and sits down, not hesitating to eat as soon as you put his plate down. “Aww, I miss lukey too! He’s my favorite.” You smirk and laugh when quinn huffs in disapproval.

Looking down at your phone, the date is December 26th, 2017. You can see a few text from your mother and some friends, but ultimately decide to put your phone down when Quinn turns on the TV and plays your favorite show. Nothing can compared to right now.

“Hey, Quinn?” You say, Quinn hums and you grab a blanket to cover your lap. “Is it cool if I bring my boyfriend along? Cause I already know you’re bringing a few friends along.” Quinn stops chewing for a second, but lets out a ‘sure’, despite him secretly not wanting to.

Quinn and your boyfriend don’t have the most ideal relationship. It was pretty good in the beginning, but when you and your boyfriend started arguing more and more Quinn started to hold grudges against him. Trying to convince you to break up with him multiple times and failing, him and your boyfriend have this secret animosity that they can’t seem to bring up with each other.

“I know you two don’t get along, I’ll tell him to be on his best behavior if he decides to come along. Cause with or without him I’ll be there regardless quinnifer, I promise.” You smile and he groans at the cheesy nickname you’ve given him.

The next time you see Quinn’s family again is on December 31st, New Year’s Eve.

Everyone’s here. Quinn’s friends, luke and jack’s friends, family friends, random people you’re not sure Quinn even knows, everyone.

You can smell hamburgers in the air and you’re taking a sip of the water you have in your hand when Luke gently grabs you by the shoulder to say hello.

“Lukey!” You shout, grabbing him in excitement after finally being able to see the youngest Hughes after a while. “Y/n! I’ve been looking for you all night!” He smiles, swaying the two of you back and forth as you two laugh together. “I’m not that hard to find, eh?” “Well, Quinn wasn’t any help at all.” You hear another voice groan and you can see Jack with a bag of chips in his hand when you let go of Luke to hug him as well

“He’s never any help.” you joke and steal a chip from the bag while Jack snatches it back although too late. “True.” Your boyfriend says and with a side eye, you’re suddenly reminded of his presence. “Oh! Jack, Luke, I don’t think I’ve ever introduced you to my boyfriend! This is Dallas.” You say, motioning your hands to him as he waves a hand hello.

“Nice to meet you.” He says and extends a hand out in greeting. The two boys look at each other in a way you can’t describe and hesitantly reach out to shake his hand. As you watch them talk to each other, you spot Ellen in the corner of your eye and walk up to her to say hello.

“Oh! Y/n! I haven’t seen you in a while!” She says with happiness evident in her voice as she hugs you. “Mrs.Hughes! I missed you!” “Hun, you can call me Ellen” slowly letting you go so that you can say hello to Jim as well, you tell Them about how college is going for you, letting them know all the details they please.

As they get wrapped up into another conversation with someone else, you take a seat on a chair that’s been left alone and take in the sight of everyone getting along infront of you.

You only get about 5 minutes to relax before Quinn pops up beside you, not saying anything because he didn’t want to interrupt your focus. You turn your head to look at a tree and magically see Quinn and he smiles at you.

“Hey.” “Hey!” You two say to each other and laugh. “You okay? Everything alright?” “Yeah, this is great. Thanks for inviting me, Quinnifer.” You softly grab his hand and he can feel heat rushing to his face. “You’re welcome” he mumbles and you let out a toothy grin.

You’re enjoying the comfortable silence with Quinn, letting the conversations near you two and the wind blowing do all the talking for you two. Quinn’s mom calls him over and he nods to you in a ‘I’ll see you later’ way while you wave him goodbye.

You’re left alone again sitting in silence, when suddenly a dark shadow is casting over you. You look towards the cause of it and there stands your boyfriend—unhappy and irritated.

“Can I help you?” Brushing the hair out of your face, you look him up and down and it’s as if he’s had enough. he grabs you by your arm, yanks you up, and pulls you farther outside where nobody can see you two unless they go looking.

“Actually, yes you fucking can, y/n.” He snaps and you mentally roll your eyes at what could have possibly happened in the 10 minutes you were gone.

“You think I didn’t see that? That little thing you and him did? I’m so tired of you sitting here and pretending like nothings going on with you two.”

“Pretending what’s going on with us, Dallas? There is nothing going on.” Leaning on the tree to your right, you can see the anger rising in his face.

“Oh yeah, act oblivious like you always do. You know, if you were gonna sit up here and be a whore in front of my face, why did you even invite me here?” He yells, the wind blowing harder and the leaves shaking under their wrath. “Dallas, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just wanted you to come here because I know all of our friends are here and I didn’t want you to feel left out simply because it’s at Quinn’s parents house.”

“Go to hell, y/n. That man is in love with you and you have the fucking audacity to invite me here? Fucking bitch.” Your throat closes in on you when he steps closer to you, eyes black and unreadable.

“If you hate him so much why did you come! Just because I invited you doesn’t mean you had to say yes! I’m so sick of these petty arguments!” Standing up straight to walk away, he slams you back into the tree. You wince in pain, your back taking most of the damage.

“Dallas, let me go” you whisper, and his grip on you only tightens. “Or what? What are you gonna do, y/n? Call Quinn over to help you? I’m so fucking sick of your mouth.” Roughly gripping your chin between his fingers to force you to look up at him, the only thing you can feel is fear.

“Hello? Anyone back here?” A voice calls out, and you can immediately tell right off the bat it’s Quinn. In the moment of your boyfriend’s distraction, you make a run for it. Bolting out of the tree he had you against and running straight into the house.

You got a few concerned stares speeding up the stares, and the anxiety in your stomach stirred harder when you heard your boyfriend and Quinn arguing outside.

You ran right into Quinn’s room and slammed the door, heavy breathing and tears streaming down your face. After what felt like a minute to you but in reality was about 15, you could hear steps outside of Quinn’s room and the door slowly opening.

It was Quinn. It’s always Quinn. You can’t control the sobbing when you see him and he doesn’t hesitate to softly close the door and comfort you with gentle words and a grounding hug.

Your sobs simmer down into soft sniffles and Quinn has his arms wrapped around you tightly. No words said between you two, but a knowing understand.

After wiping the remaining tears off your face, you can see the softest look on Quinn’s face when he looks down at you. “Why didn’t you tell me he was like that?” He whispered and despite the heaviness of the situation, you let out a dry chuckle

“It was different this time.” You croak out. “It was like a different version of him. I mean, we’ve been having issues a lot recently but he’s never reacted to it like this.” Snuggling you closer to him, Quinn tucks your face into his neck and rubs your back.

He freezes when you let out a small hiss, moving his hand off your upper back to see a few bruises forming from his treatment of you earlier.

“Did he fucking hit you?” He states quickly, to which you might’ve taken a second too long to answer because you can see the confused-angry-sadness rise onto his face.

“H-he didn’t like hit me! Like, he slammed me into the tree and grabbed me really rough, which I know isn’t-“ “y/n. I just want you to be okay.” Letting out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding, you melt into Quinn’s chest and he presses a small kiss into your hairline.

“I am okay.” You breathe out and he closes his eyes to properly collect himself. “Has he ever done that before?” “…..he’s never hit me before. He’s broken a lot of stuff before. That was all. I irritated him a lot, and maybe I should’ve-“

“Don’t you even dare to think that anything he did was your fault.” Cutting you off and looking you dead in your eyes, you give up on your words and just slump against him in silence.

You two stay there for a while, just sitting against each other and you’re taking in what truly happened.

The months are seeming to move quicker. Before you know it, Quinn’s being drafted.

He’s moved out, the apartment you two shared being eerily quiet as you sit down in the living room, watching the tv on a low volume.

Pictures of you and Quinn are still up on the walls, and everything Quinn left behind hasn’t been touched since he left you. It’s not like you two stopped talking, but it’s definitely been less since the distance between you two.

Playing with an abandoned string on the side of your cardigan, you realize it’s too quiet. And it’s making you sad.

As if he knew what was happening, your phone lit up with Quinn’s contact on your phone. You picked it up immediately and his voice came through the speaker.

“Hey, you okay?” “Yeah, ‘m fine.” “What’re you doing? Taking good care of the apartment?” You can hear rustling in the back of the call, which makes you smile a little

“Everything’s fine. Stuck right where you left it, Quinn.” You whisper, and he frowns on the other side of the line. “What’s wrong?” “Nothings wrong.” “Somethings wrong, y/n. You don’t call me Quinn unless you’re upset.”

Biting your bottom lip, you hesitate for a moment before whispering a very quiet “just miss you.” The phone barely picks it up but Quinn can hear it, and it tugs at his heart.

After the incident at the New Year’s party, you two grew impossibly closer. This was his first time being so far away from you in a long time and he knew how badly it was affecting you.

“Miss you too. If your schedules still the same, I might be able to come see you? I have a little off time.” He can hear you jump over the phone, immediately booking a ticket when you let the first letter of please come out of your mouth.

“I’ll come see you on Wednesday, how does that sound? I’ll stay until Sunday.” And you’re blocking out all plans on those days, a bright smile on your face.

Your nerves eat at you for those two days you had to wait until Quinn arrived, Nearly jumping on him as soon as he touched down in the airport. You were near him a lot, and when you were scared you were being clingy he shut those fears down immediately and told you how much he missed you too.

“You really did leave everything the same, huh? Guess my artistic skills are so good there’s nothing to change.” He jokes and you scoff “well… I did take down that hideous curtain design you chose.” Giggling when he gasps in fake offense.

“I miss this place a lot, you know? It’s always like I’m home here.” “Well before you get comfortable, take off the shoes. I don’t need dirt on my floor.”

You two sat on the couch and talked. You two talked for hours, as if it was a part of normal routine for you two.

“How’s Vancouver? Heard it’s nice” you mumbled, and he smiles softly. “Good. It’s good. Would be better if you were with me, though.” Grinning you nudge him and he looks at you with an undistinguishable look.

“I’m serious. You always told me how you were looking to be in the medical team for the nhl, and the canucks need a new team member. I think you should come with me when I go back so I can introduce you to the team-“ “what? Quinn, you can’t just surprise me with that!” Sitting upright, he laughs as if he wasn’t trying to literally convince you to move.

“Where would I even stay-“ “stay with me. I’ll always let you stay with me, y/n” “I’m not gonna burden you with that.” “How would it be a burden if I’m offering it to you?”

Eyes softening, you’re left speechless. Taking your silence as a nudge to continue, Quinn lets his truth out. “I know how hard it is for you staying here. Kidra told me you were crying a few days ago because it was too lonely for you. I know you miss me, and I really fucking miss you, y/n.”

You two stare at each other for a second, and before you knew it your lips were on his and all the breath you had in your lungs were knocked out. “Come with me, come with me and I swear to everything you won’t regret it. I want you so badly, and my family already thinks we’re basically dating.”

The soft brown locks of Quinn’s hair between your fingers becomes more apparent when you come back to reality. “I want you too. And I want to come with you. I’m scared, Quinn.” “Don’t be. I’ll be here with you. I’m willing to do anything with you.”

The warm summer air is flowing through your window, sending a shiver down your spine. This is your chance. This is what you’ve thought about since he’s left. Wondering when you could be with him again.

“Yes. Yes I’ll go. Fuck, should I pack a bag? I need to book a ticket. Are we going now? What’s happening-“ with another kiss to your lips, you two lay on the couch enjoy each others presence once more.

“We’ll figure it out in the morning. Right now, I just want you in my arms.”

© copyright of ilythena. Do not repost or translate onto any other websites.

Very abrupt ending but I genuinely wanted to post today. Going on break soon, so more fics coming very soon!

#fanfic #nhl x reader #nhl x y/n #luke hughes #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #nhl x you #x reader #I love Quinnifer u guys. #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes angst #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #qui

[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, fluff, season 3 of my flatmate!joe

Author’s note: uh-oh here we GO! the girls voted and the girls won, so here we are! the no-longer-flatmates-flatmate fic - you don’t need to have read define close or explain us, but it’ll obviously give you backstory, which might help!

Wordcount: 3.2K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five There was something living inside Joe’s chest.

It was only small, but definitely there. Ugly. Green. Growing. With potential to do real harm. It crawled around and scoped him out, exploring his heart from all different angles, carefully tasting it.

It hadn’t bitten him yet, but Joe knew if he lost sight of it – if he stopped trying to control it – that eventually, it would. And it would hurt. It didn’t exactly feel great now, but once it’d sink its teeth in, Joe knew he’d be done for.

He remembered when it still good. Still nice. Warm. And soft. And joyous, all full of love.

It used to be kind and sweet and would make him smile until his cheeks were quite literally cramping.

But it’d changed. It’d turned bad.

He wished he could’ve seen it coming.

It was a good thing that he found he was able to easily control it with rational thought. Problem was that rational thought had the habit of abandoning him once it got dark outside and he was alone in his flat.

His new flat.

Where everything was his.

Where everything got put in places that he chose. All his things were where he wanted them, all catering towards his routine. Which was why a basket of underwear made it into a bathroom cupboard, and why a shelf got put up near the balcony door, so he had a place to keep his cigarettes and a lighter. Gone were the days of rummaging through coat pockets ‘til he found what he was looking for.

It was sort of great, Joe wasn’t going to lie, living on his own.

It didn’t look quite as nice, not quite as homey, but Joe was sure he’d soon learn what the place was missing. He didn’t worry about it. There were more important things to worry about. Like, how quick dust built up into bunnies underneath the sofa and how every time he’d open his front door, it’d waft out from underneath, only to settle in the middle of the room for everyone to see. Or how somehow he panicked so much about keeping his plants alive that he was systematically overwatering all of them.

Idiot.

It was fine.

Rational thinking.

It was all fine.

Things were different now.

Good different.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have!” Joe joked as he let you in, pointing out the large bouquet of flowers in your hands.

His place already smellt amazing. Joe made a good roast, and had one going now, things in the oven, bubbling and simmering away.

“If I never did things I shouldn’t do, life would be very boring,” you said, laying the colourful bunch down on his island.

“Did... wait, did you actually get those for me?”

“Have you got a vase?” you were already opening cabinet doors. “You don’t, do you?”

When you didn’t get a reply, you turned to see Joe stare at the flowers. He looked a little dumbfounded.

“Joe?”

“Hmm?” he looked up at you and blinked a few times. “Oh, um...” he squeezed his eyes shut a second, trying to gather his thoughts.

Took too long, you thought.

“A vase?” you repeated, trying very hard to keep a straight face, to not let the smallest inkling of a smile slip through.

“Sorry, I don’t... I don’t think I’ve got a vase.”

Why the fuck would he own a vase, Joe thought.

“I’ll get you one as a housewarming gift,” you found a pitcher. “This’ll do for now.”

There was evidence on the counter of what Joe had been in the middle of, cutting veggies, preparing the gravy. But as you filled the pitcher with water, Joe still kind of hovered in the same spot in silence. Looked at the flowers that you’d brought in and felt silly for how those made him feel.

When you placed the pitcher in the middle of the island and reached for the bouquet, you broke his trance, and Joe softly laughed at himself.

“This is... my God, this is so sweet? I don’t think I’ve ever gotten flowers before.”

“Well,” you smiled back, about to throw stones into your own windows. “I didn’t get them for you.”

“Oh?” Joe immediately felt embarrassed. Mortified. Felt the skin of his neck flush with heat.

“I got them for your flat.”

Got him.

Joe let out the breath he was holding in defeat, dropping his head and smiling. Scoffed softly at himself because you were joking, and he was an idiot.

“You know, give it some colour. Give me something nice to look at when I’m here.” you plopped the flowers into the pitcher and didn’t get the chance to make it look nice, to arrange it a little, because before you could, you got picked up by the waist and shaken about. You shriek-laughed a loud, “No!”

“Something nice to look at?” Joe pressed his face into your cheek as you squealed through your giggles.

“Am I not nice to look at, huh?” Joe squeezed extra tight before he put you down, turning you in his arms and keeping you real close.

“You’re nice to look at,” you said sweetly, still grinning widely, nose nudging up at his. “If I could put you in a vase and arrange you all nice, I would.”

Joe snorted, and you felt it on your face.

“Hmm. You’re funny.”

You got kissed by soft lips that almost felt shy to kiss you.

“Don’t get me a vase.”

And then you got kissed a little harder. Bit more firm.

“I’ll get my own.”

“No,” you objected, speaking right into his mouth. “You’ll get a stupid one with like, frosted writing on, or something. Live, love, laugh.”

You felt Joe’s smile as he kissed you harder, both arms squeezing as they wrapped around your waist tighter. You sighed into Joe’s affection and took great comfort in the fact that you were alone. You were outside of your flat, which was still wild in your opinion, but at least you were alone.

Alone was good.

Joe’d gotten into the habit of showing affection when you were around others, around strangers, and you didn’t think you were ever going to get used to it.

The first time Joe reached to hold your hand, you’d nearly had a panic attack.

It wasn’t very cold, but the wind was cutting. Hurt your forehead as you walked and made you hunch as you pulled up your shoulders to shield yourself as best you could. Joe’s hand finding yours was a welcome warmth for your cold fingers, but it still made you fall silent as you tensed up.

Joe just held on for a few steps, and looked at you. You could see him stare from your peripheral, could feel the burn of it high up in your cheeks, and tried your best to ignore it.

“You can relax.” Joe humorously said, speaking softly and leaning in a little to make sure you could hear him.

“I am relaxed.” You immediately argued, because holding hands with Joe shouldn’t be weird. It should actually be normal. You tangled up with your full bodies more days than you didn’t when you shared a flat. If anything, Joe’s touches were exactly what turned you lax, all floppy and boneless.

“S’just cold.”

“Hmm,” Joe sounded unsure, very obviously not believing you, and squeezed your fingers a couple of times. When you didn’t smile, Joe let his own drop too, and asked if you were okay.

“Fine.” You reassured, growing a little defensive. If Joe could just stop talking about it, that’d be great.

“Should I– do you want me to let go?”

“No, it’s okay.” You said, sounding a little squeaky, but you doubled down with a squeeze of your own.

Joe took it, accepted it, albeit a little unsure if maybe he’d made the wrong move here. But you’d walked along, and you held hands, and when you fell into random conversation again, holding your hand became something Joe stopped thinking about. He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb along yours, and at one point used his grasp to pull you in front of him when you had to share a narrow bit of pavement with oncomers.

You weren’t like Joe.

Not for a single second had you been able to be as casual about it as Joe had been.

You focussed on your hand the whole while you walked, and couldn’t help but check to see if others were looking at it. If strangers that passed you looked down at your hands. To check if they could see. If they somehow knew that you’d never done this before.

You had.

But not like this. Not outside. Not in public.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hold Joe’s hand, but there was something about this new phase you were in, where Joe walked over to yours to pick you up to go out for dinner together. Where he had to ring the doorbell and ask if he could quickly come up to use the toilet before you left. Where he pretended he didn’t know where the bathroom was and made you show him the way. Where he faked being anxious when you left your flat, saying that he hoped you liked the restaurant he booked a table at. Where he nervously asked if you liked Italian food, as if you hadn’t shared a million pizzas together.

Things were different now, and although you were close, would often do everything you could to dissolve into his skin, walking hand in hand through the streets of London felt insane. Like you were moving too fast, even though you understood how silly that sounded.

You’d spent that entire walk thinking of a natural reason to let go of his hand, and Joe had felt your fingers twitch. Felt how you seemed to change you mind about it every three seconds. But, you’d said he could hold onto you, so, he simply did.

It wasn’t until you reached the restaurant and used the heavy door as an excuse to wiggle your fingers from Joe’s hand, using both of yours to pull it open.

Baby steps, Joe thought as he smirked to himself, astonished that he’d gotten to hold your hand out in public for over ten minutes.

He was sure you’d slap him away the second he even attempted to intertwine your fingers together.

Which, coincidentally, was exactly what you did the first time Joe tried to lean in for a quick peck on the lips as you said goodbye to each other outside of his flat.

You’d been out, and were both in a bit of a rush to get home. You thought that the way you’d hugged his arm for a second was plenty goodbye. You’d pressed the side of your face to his bicep and said you’d see him later.

You’d reached the point where you wanted to go cross the street as Joe would walk the other way to get to his front door, and when you tried to step away, he yanked you right back by the elbow.

The way you recoiled away from him was so extreme, it startled Joe. You almost made it look like he was about to hit you.

“Jesus,” he mumbled under his breath, and you immediately apologised. You stepped back closer to him, were about to accept a quick kiss as an apology, but let your eyes nervously dart around to see if there were other people. If there were witnesses.

Joe just looked at you, blinked a few times and then, instead of leaning in for a quick kiss, squeezed you in your side.

“Calm down. Call me when you get home.”

And you’d blushed at how Joe’d smiled at you before he turned to head inside. Your face had remained hot until you got home where you then had to take a moment to shake all the nervous jitters from your body.

It was such a weird spot to be in, Joe thought.

How he couldn’t get too close if there was the slightest chance of someone seeing, but to have you literally whine at him inbetween his sheets if he didn’t touch you in the right spot with the right pressure at the right speed.

But steps were being made in the right direction.

You each had you own place now, and Joe made a point to sometimes not see you for a few days. He kind of enjoyed getting to miss you. He liked how his stomach did flips when you’d ring his doorbell after not having been over for a few days. He liked how absence made his heart grow fonder, and how that felt healthy.

Joe assumed you felt the same way; maybe you didn’t like it as much as he did, but surely you also understood how this was at least more normal.

He never thought that what the two of you were before was toxic.

It was just... weird.

Good weird.

But this was better.

Still a little weird, he wasn’t going to lie. But better.

He got to tell you to call him when you got home now. He got to invite you over to his flat for Sunday roast now. And you would then come and bring him flowers now.

Joe had never received flowers before. Well, maybe he had. But not like this. Not from a girl who brought them just for him. Just because. He kind of loved it. Kind of loved you.

“God, you were right.” Joe said, eyes unblinking, comfortably staring.

Both satisfied and full after an early dinner, the two of you laid out on Joe’s sofa - the one that took six weeks and then two more to arrive - and both looked at the bouquet up on the kitchen island. You were tucked into his side, with one of his arms slung around your frame. You held one of his hands with both of yours and absentmindedly played with his fingers.

 “I don’t know how this works but they kind of make the whole room look better.”

“They do.” You agreed, smiling, because you did that. You turned your head, tilting up to look at Joe’s face. “Please let me pick out a vase for you, though.”

Joe’s grin slowly grew as he said, “Absolutely not. Might just keep the pitcher for flowers only, I kind of like it.”

“Ugh,” you grimaced. “This is such a boy’s flat.”

“Well,” Joe started, raising his eyebrows, finally breaking eye-contact with the fresh bloom, tucking in his chin to look down at you. “I am a boy, so, that checks out.”

For a moment you just looked at each other, smiling, cuddled up into the corner like you always were cuddled up into the corner together. When you saw Joe flick his eyes down to your lips, you pulled the hand you were still holding closer to bite right into the skin between his index finger and thumb.

Joe pretended to flinch, but you were barely leaving marks as you smiled through the bite, big eyes looking up at him. Joe took a moment to just take you in. The way you looked at him had him biting his own lip before he tried to grab hold of one of your hands to pull into his mouth.

You were already scream-laughing and trying your best to pull your hand away before he even got close. It left you in a wrestling pile of limbs, Joe with his mouth open, growling and ready to bite at whatever got close enough. He ended up getting at bit of your sleeve in between his teeth, pinning you down into the soft seat-cushions and he felt drunk with joy.

He was so fucking happy.

Pretty girl in his flat, giggling away on his sofa, and she’d brought him flowers. It was kind of disgusting how he’d turned to goop on the inside.

Joe didn’t wait for your giggles to die out to get his lips on yours and kiss you silly.

There was something living inside Joe’s chest.

It was sticky and sugary sweet and Joe loved the taste it.

Loved how it bubbled over and leaked into his stomach.

Loved how it swirled into his limbs and made him reach for your hand to hold when you were walking outside.

Loved how it made him put his arm around your shoulders to pull you tightly into his side as you waited to get your coffees whilst the barista prepared them.

Loved how it grew as he took the lead on this new way of being together the way you had done before when you still lived together.

It made Joe want to introduce you to someone as his girlfriend, knowing full well that you hadn’t had that conversation yet, and that you’d likely have a melt down, but God.

It was just what he wanted to do, he couldn’t help it.

He wouldn’t.

There was a high probability that you’d actually murder him if he pulled a stunt like that.

The fact that you were kissing like this outside of your flat right now was already sort of stretching it, Joe knew.

You let Joe kiss you on his sofa for a minute. Let him slide his nose around yours with an open mouth that hovered over yours inbetween kisses. He made you work for it, having to lift up your head for more when he teased you for too long.

When you felt how Joe started readjusting his position on top of you, you knew you had to break it off.

“Hmm– Joe, no, I gotta–”

“Hm?”

“I gotta go, there’s– stop, there’s a potential flatmate coming over in a bit, I gotta– Joe!”

Joe finally broke away with an annoyed grumble leaving his throat as he did.

“Fine.”

“I can... I could always come back after?”

Joe shifted enough to let you escape the sofa.

“Hmm, you could, but I do have an early morning, so it’s probably not worth the trouble.” Joe sighed, lying back with an arm curled behind his head, watching you twist your clothes so it all sat right again.

“No?”

“I’ll probably be asleep by the time you make it back here.”

“Well,” you started, slinging your arms into your coat. “All depends on how long this is going to take. If it’s another 19-year-old trying to negotiate for a 30-70 rent split first thing, I’ll only be a second.”

“God, for your sake, I hope it’s not another student. But for my sake...” Joe made big eyes, giving you a suggestive look that broke into a smile when you laughed.

You gave Joe a last quick kiss as you bent over the sofa and told him you’d see him later, all casual.

Joe’s smile lingered as he watched you walk out.

“Call me when you get home!”

Yea... there was something living inside Joe’s chest.

And it was cuddly and fuzzy and comfortable and good...

For now.

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @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, @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

[honey-flustered]

can i request mirror sex with eddie and wayne hears banging and barges in and talks to you guys about protection

A/N: Apologies for the long wait, love. But I’m here and slowly getting my writing mojo back. I hope you enjoy!

Wrap it Up! (MDNI+18)

Boyfriend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k+

Warnings: smut, mirror sex, graphic language and descriptions, sex standing up, getting caught, creampie (cum gets everywhere), awkward conversations about (sex, pregnancy, protection), Eddie & Reader 18+, some humor, fluff

Despite Eddie’s lean frame, underneath that hellfire club T-shirt was all muscle and you have the perfect advantage to study every ripple and bulge. You’re eyes are hazy but intense as you stare at the image before you in the full body mirror: Eddie’s back, slick with sweat, flexes with every stroke into your sopping core as he fucks you standing up. The muscles rippling in his cute little ass was enough to pull one hand away from his hair to cup it.

Wayne invited you over for dinner as he did every night. And sometimes on the days when he’d have to go shopping for groceries, Eddie would occasionally stay over to “prepare the ingredients” but really it’s just an excuse to have you over his place earlier so that the two of you could fool around. Hence, why now you were in this position discovering your new mirror kink.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You whine in his ear then bite on the soft lobe.

“You feel fucking incredible, baby,” His hoarse, raspy gasp into your ear causes you clench tighter around him and he hisses. “You’re killing me.”

“Want you to cum in me. Please, daddy.”

“Oh, yeah?” he said says knocking against the magic button within you. “You’re on birth control now?”

“No. But I can take a Plan B. I just want to feel your cum in me. Want it dripping down my legs.”

“Oh, fuuuck.” His nails dig into the soft, plushness of your ass as he pounds into you harder and faster, the sounds of your wetness and bodies colliding fill the room. It’s loud and so were you as you groan a throat-tearing groan at being filled so deliciously over and over.

He bends a little at the knee, throwing you up in his arms enough so that he can get your legs in a position where your feet are beside his ears, the anklet he’d given you on your first year anniversary dangling near the left one. The new position allows him to drill into your greedily suctioning pussy deeper and you thought you were loud the last time. You were screaming as if you were in a goddamn horror movie and he’s just staring you down fiercely wanting to elicit more sounds out of you. Your eyes dart back to the mirror nearly cumming at the sight alone.

Feeling himself about to reach his climax, he climbs into the bed on his knees with him still nuzzled inside you for the final strokes. The backs of your knees now hooked around his shoulders as he curls into you enough to bounce you in his lap and suck and twirl a tongue around one of your hardened peaks.

“Oh my god,” You whine. With one hand still across your slick back guiding you up and down his length, he brings the other between your bodies to massage your swollen clitoris. “I’m gonna fucking cum for you!” Sobbing with legit real hot tears streaming down your face, your orgasm slams into you like a fucking bus and your gushing all over him and you. His unruly public hairs matter down by your creamy arousal. He intensifies your high, slamming into your g-spot and not once giving you a break to cope. You dig your nails into him, the whites of your eyes are all he could see.

“Gonna cum, baby. Ready to take it.”

As if you could speak! You babble and cry out in response. He slams you down once…twice…three times and just as he’s about to fill you up—

“Edward Munson, you know how to work this damn pho-Jesus Christ!” Wayne Munson, coming home from a long trip to the store, expected to walk into his nephew’s room seeing him do anything from playing his guitar to reading one of his comics. What he hadn’t expected was not only had Eddie not set up the table for dinner but he finds Eddie doing you.

Eddie’s horrified that despite thinking that the intrusion was enough to stop his climax it was already too late. His orgasm raked through him forcing himself to bite on his lip to keep from whimpering as he spurts ropes of his warm cum into your inviting gummy channel. But you jump out of his grasp as fast as it happened, forcing his essence to coat anything in close proximity.

Wayne has long averted his eyes before this point, raising his hands out over his face. “Dear god! You could’ve at least put up a sock or something, boy.”

“Oh my god!” You find a throw blanket beside you to bury yourself in.

“Wayne!” Eddie shouts, shoving his exposed cock down between his legs. “What the hell are you doing here so early? Didn’t you have to run like a bunch of errands and shit?”

“I just needed to get some wine and cigarettes, ya nut. Just gather yourselves whenever you’re ready.” He blindly searches for the doorknob and shuts the door.

“Holy shit,” You throw the blanket off of you, standing to go in search of your clothes around the room. “How am I going to face him now after he’s seen us like that?”

“It’s not like he doesn’t know we’ve been having sex.”

“This is different! This is him actually seeing it for himself. I can never look him in the eyes again,” You reach for your panties thrown on his dresser, hoisting up and over you. “I should go home.”

“No, please stay. We can act as if nothing ever happened.”

“How? I’ll be burning up with embarrassment the moment I see him.” You groan and flop down on his bed, your face down on his pillow.

“Long as we don’t speak of it, it’ll blow over,” Eddie says, looking down at the trickle of his cum between your legs and the mess he made all over himself. “We don’t say a word about this even outside this trailer.”

You chuckle, wanting to lighten the mood. You ran a finger on one of his painted thighs, scooping up the thick white substance. “I don’t know. I think your friends would love to hear about your little mess even after getting caught.”

“You’re a menace.”

————

Throughout, preparation of the dinner neither you nor Eddie said anything. Not even to each other. Simply, hanging your heads low while he prepares the table and you spiced up the sauce for the pasta. Wayne is also occupied with his own chore of tending to the pasta and making no efforts to speak as well, avoiding all eye contact. It was an overall awkward affair for all parties.

At the dinner table, the three of you ate in silence. Eddie, rubbing a hand on your knee as you continued to blush profusely and hang your head low.

“Alright, I’m just gonna say it since we’ve already found ourselves in this awkward position,” Wayne says, throwing down his glass to break the silence. “In the countless times I’ve had to clean up your room, never once have I noticed a condom wrapper. So my question is, do ya wear protection?”

Eddie chokes on his drink. “Dude!”

“What? It’s a valid question. As my responsibility as your legal guardian, I should’ve had this talk with you long ago. So, it’s on me. But if the two of you are going to engage in these…activities, you should at least be safe,” Wayne says, carrying the tone of a concerned parent. “So how do ya do it?”

“Do what?” Eddie asks in hesitance, dreading the upcoming next set of questions.

“Prevent pregnancy. Birth control? Morning After Pills? Pull out method?” Wayne probes.

“I cannot believe this is my life right now.”

“Don’t shy away now, Eds? You’re a man now and you’ve gotta have these grown man conversations.”

“Mr. Munson’s right, Eddie,” You speak up, bringing your eyes up for the first time in the entire night. “We have been a little…risky.”

Wayne nods. “Having a child is a huge responsibility. I would know. I took Eddie in when I was pretty young myself. And you’re starting university soon, Y/n. On a full-ride. I’m sure that’s not something you see for yourself as of now. This isn’t to come down hard on y’all. Again, I was young once. But please for the love of God, use some form of contraceptive and learn to lock a goddamn door.”

“Okay, yeah we will.” Eddie affirms.

“Yes.” You agree.

“Good. Let’s shake off the tension now. I’ve already erased whatever that was from my memory so you two can stop acting like you’re walking on eggshells.”

The three of you join in laughter and move into conversation aside from the embarrassing moment. Although, later on that night while you were busy collecting the plates from the table, in one instance of a proud uncle moment, Wayne secretly gestures Eddie for a fist-bump. Eddie mischievously smiles and obliges.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #joseph quinn #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfic #boyfriend!eddie munson #eddie my love <3 #honeyflusteredwrites #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x reader fanfiction #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson request #wayne munson

[yappyappyapp]

babe, only you.

jack hughes x reader

to feed my jack obsession recently, here’s a bit of angst and fluff (no mature content). please, enjoy.

also: there’s no proofread, so..

—————————

you found yourself always wondering; “am i good enough for him?”, “do i deserve him?”. comments had been lashed out earlier this evening to darken those already eerie thoughts that you fought so hard to not reside with. a long, long stay.

jack came into the room, that was the man that’s ‘in love with you’. those thoughts slashed at your mind little cuts kept wracking your head. the trance you were in was broken by your lovers lips lovingly placed onto your head, and you felt the couch slightly dip when he sat down beside you. his arm snaked around your shoulders and pulled you close to him, your head lying on his shoulder.

no one questioned if he did enough in this relationship. no one made snarky comments on how he was so quiet, how he looked like he never put enough effort into how he showed his love, but they did to you. and it was torture trying to hit those thoughts out of your brain. every single one of those comments lingered for longer and longer each time someone made another.

“what’s wrong?”

his soft voice lingered in the room as he ran his calloused hands up and down your arm. the television was playing in the background, an old re-run of big bang theory, muted, but with subtitles.

“jack, it’s just,” you started, why couldn’t you form words. a pang in your heart stung against your chest. “i don’t deserve you.” you whispered, he froze, eyes straying from the tv and to your slumped form against him.

“what makes you think that?” he murmured, his blue eyes connected with your glossy (e/c) ones.

“i- im not good enough-“ you were cut off by a sweet kiss to the lips. “don’t talk like that. i don’t care if your quiet, i don’t care what people say about our relationship, (y/n)!” he exclaimed. “people don’t know you, and how lucky i am to actually know and to be with you. i thank anyone in the skies above that they let me hold your hands. you are everything, my universe, my world. don’t let people tear into you.”

he rubbed his hands up and down your spine as you sobbed painfully into his chest, dampening his shirt.

the thoughts were still there, but at least you had someone to guide you along this long and winding road.

“i love you.”

#hockey #hockey boys #jack hughes #new jersey devils #puck #fanfic #jack hughes x reader #i love them so much it’s so crazy they are so hot and beautiful and good with kids total husband material for me omg ogmgog gogmfofm #anyway. good vibes only this brings me so much joy.. theyre so soft and sweet...... #angst with a happy ending #fluff #send help #toronto maple leafs #mitch marner #quinn hughes #what am i doing #hughes brothers #luke hughes #nhl players #nhl hockey #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl all star 2024

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

Older Rockstar!Eddie in the early 2010s cutting his hair short and having a little faux hawk. He's going through a punkish phase. He's back to wearing chains on his belts and converse. When performing, he's wearing a battle vest with nothing else underneath. Showing off how he's been working out. Got new tattoos and covered up the old ones he just didn't like anymore. He opened up Instagram and doesn't use it because he can't remember the password. He has to beg his kids to help log him in. Once he does, it's nothing but dad jokes. He takes his first selfie and is shocked by how many women still love him after all these years. Only posts pictures of his wife afterward to show how lucky he is.

#is he in a midlife crisis? #maybe but we still love him #and he still looks hot #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #rockstar!eddiemunson #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things

[inklore]

wild child, i want you.

part two | series masterlist

premise: coming back to hawkins for your summer vacation from college is the last thing you want to do, but you find yourself back in your hometown and it all goes to shit in a matter of weeks. thinking your summer is already a bummer, getting high with the town outcast doesn't seem like that bad of an idea.

pairing: eddie munson x richgirl!reader

word count: 6.2k

warnings: eighteen+ content, blowjob (eddie’s first one, he’s a lil virgin in this sorry y’all), drug use, cheesy flirting, past crush unmentioned but there, tiny bit of praise kink, i made eddie’s van cooler than it actually is, reader is a lil self absorbed but it’s ok, mentions of past bullying, class difference, and shit family dynamics.

etc: i may write a part two for this, may turn it into a little mini series depending on the love i get on it. but um this boy is the cutest little virgin and no one can convince me otherwise ok thnx. title from the song wild child by wasp aka a song on this verysexy playlist!

i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!

“Shit! Fuck!”

The sounds of aggravation that erupts from your throat are anything but ladylike. The moon shining down just right in the sky to show the hunk of mud that’s now stuck on the top of your red pumps. Pumps that cost too much to be covered in dirt and grime, and yet here they were. Ruined.

All because you had stormed off from the party taking place in the backyard of your long term boyfriend—who was now your ex because fuck him, and fuck this washed up town.

You knew agreeing to come back for the summer would be absolutely detrimental to your psyche. Missing out on what would have been the summer of your life alongside college friends, a new city, on boats, planes; anywhere better than Hawkins!

But being the amazing, doting girlfriend you were, you had been easily convinced by the promise of gifts, booze, and a hell of a summer.

Two weeks in and you were miserable, had ruined Louis Vuitton’s, barely tipsy off of cheap beer, and now newly single.

“Fuck this place!” You scream to yourself, louder than you should have in a not–disturbing–the–peace way, a dog barking in the distance. You needed to catch the first bus out of this dump of a town as soon as possible.

“I completely agree,” comes a voice to the side of you. If the pumping of anger and spite wasn’t making your heart boom in your ear drums right now, or the distraction of materialistic items didn’t have you fuming: you were sure you might have seen them, whoever they are. Or at least smelled them. The heavy scent of weed lingers in the air and you can only assume it’s the weed guy your ex-boyfriend had been talking about.

You weren’t in the mood to deal with anyone else tonight, let alone some stoned out stranger whose opinion you didn’t ask for, or could fake care about.

Turning in their direction you plan on telling them as much, plan on giving them your best bitchy scowl. But when your eyes adjust, actually see who it is; take in the long hair, the mix of jean and leather, the rings that gleam in the moonlight. Your expression changes from annoyance to amusement, your rude rebuttal long forgotten.

“Munson?”

“In the flesh,” his smile is still as boyish as you remember. At least from what you can remember. You graduated two years ago, he didn’t. Either year, so you've heard.

The two of you hadn’t been friends, barely acquaintances. You had a handful of classes with him, even got partnered up with him for one biology project that neither of you truly put the effort into. But you flashed your pretty smile and batted your eyes and got the both of you passing grades—thank god for creepy male teachers.

You and Munson, Eddie, were so far off of the spectrum of being in each other’s realms. The class difference not being the only thing setting you two on two different sides of the universe, let alone Hawkins and your group of friends. The many taunts from your boyfriend and his friends coming back to your mind, and the weird snarkiness Eddie would always fight back with. Unbothered by the stupidity of high school taunts.

“Graduate yet?” You give him a playful smile, lean up against the car behind you to attempt and scrape off the mud on your shoe with your thumb nail.

“No.” He crosses his hands over his chest, “but still keeping up with expectations.” You’re barely listening to him, frowning down at the dirt now caked under your perfectly polished nails, fuck.

You huff out a breath, pull your head back to look up at the night sky. Try to do those breathing exercises you see your mother do when a bird shits on her BMW. “You here for the party?” You both know you’re joking. Know that most, if not all, the rich kids here had once—or still do—rag on him.

“My services got the invite.” He clarifies, “not me, personally, for obvious reasons.” He mumbles that last part and it makes you chuckle under your breath.

“Still the weed guy, huh?” Pulling your head upright again, you look over at him. His response being holding his hands in the air in an ‘obviously’ type motion. Nothing has changed with him, and maybe that’s just what happens when you stay in this dead end town. But something also tells you that Eddie isn’t the type to just change. What you see is what you get, unapologetically.

Must be nice to be that carefree. You could use some carefree in your life; that booming sound of your heart in your ear still pumping with materialistic and asshole boyfriend frustration.

A smile spreads across your lips as an idea pops into your head. As you make the decision to get that carefree feeling in the most synthetic way possible, while also sticking it to the aforementioned asshole in the backyard.

“How much were they going to pay you?”

“For the-”

“Yes, the weed, Munson. How much.” You roll your eyes, that old high school queen bee tone coming back. Making even your own self wince, but who knows when—or if—the smell of weed had already wafted off of Eddie and traveled to the backyard and the two of you were soon to be joined by the rest of the party.

Fuck them.

“Thirty.”

Reaching into your bra, the low cut material of your dress having the perfect swoop to showcase just enough to keep the mystery, but add to the intrigue—helping to house your money snuggly in the cup of your bra; you pull out the folded cash your father had handed to you on your way out of the door.

“I have fifty here.” You hold it out between your forefinger and middle, “it’s yours but we have to leave right now.”

He looks a little surprised, his eyes flash from your chest to the money in your hand.

“You have a car don’t you?” You look around the dead street, try to remember what hunk of junk you may have seen him driving around when you were in school.

“Is the money for the ride or the weed?”

“Both.”

Eddie hums, “seems a bit low.” He crosses his arms, scratches his cheek. Starting up a slow pace as he speaks, “I mean I am risking getting caught with a distinguished lady such as yourself. From what I hear you’re still with your Princeton lover. Don’t know if I need him thinking I’ve stolen you away.”

You think he’s half serious for a second. The look of quarry on his face, but then you see his smile. See that boyish amusement again, it makes the corners of your lips tick up in amusement; contagious. Something you remember from bombing biology together. As much as you wanted to dislike him, ignore him, or push the assignment completely onto him, he had distracted you with weird facts about his band you were not interested in—and the other random nonsense that would slip out always made you roll your eyes and hide the contagiousness of his smile that spread across your face.

But you find yourself holding onto the knowledge that he knew about you and your ex. Don’t know why it’s the only retaining thing your mind seems to keep flashing on, it didn’t matter to you who still talked about you in Hawkins. Especially when you were certain it was out of pure jealousy for you getting out and them not.

You can’t see Eddie contributing in gossip, though. Maybe that’s why you’re holding onto the knowledge that he knows, remembers. Still hates the asshole. Much like you do.

“We broke up.” You state, make clear with a wide smile that you’re more than happy about it. His lips tug up more, stops in his tracks and leans back on his heels a little as he stares at you. The two of you sharing some silent moment before you laugh, “are you going to be my kidnapper or what, Munson?”

He smirks, grabs the money still between your fingers. Nods his head back to the van at the end of the driveway—that only makes sense is his, because of course it is.

“America's Most Wanted here I come!” He hollers a little too loudly, making you laugh.

“Sorry about the mess.” Eddie maneuvers around you, picks up some of the random garbage and clothes strewn at your feet and throws them in the front.

You’re sat on the small couch he has in the back of his van. The velvet from the cushions softer than you expect it to be on the back of your bare legs. Expecting it to feel grimy at the very least, and maybe that’s not fair of you to expect—or think.

You’re surprised at how unfazed you feel about the random things contributing to the mess back here. Finding yourself actually smiling at the makeshift lights he has hung up, how they cast a red glow and illuminate the posters he has tapped with that thick grey tape you know is going to rip off the paint if he was to ever remove it.

The atmosphere oddly calming, compared to what you are used to.

He pulls out a tape from the glove compartment and slips it into the stereo, a heavy metal track playing low through the speakers, the bass deep enough to rock the van.

You’re parked behind his trailer.

When he had pulled up to it and pulled around the back you were once again reminded just how different your lives really were. Had found yourself scrunching up your nose at the drab looking mobile home. Regretting it the minute Eddie caught you and gave a pressed lipped grin, “can’t build mansions this far out. Grounds too mushy.” He joked, but it only made you feel worse.

Why, you have no idea. It wasn’t your fault you were born with a silver spoon and he was born without one. Neither was a bad thing. He seemed more than happy with his life—knowing what you did about him, that carefree way about him—than you did with your own, it would seem.

The cushions bounce from the way he plops down beside you. Pulling a metal lunchbox out of nowhere and placing it in his lap, “who knew the Princess of Hawkins, knew how to be bad.”

You make a face, “people don’t really call me that do they?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Oh how clueless the other half live.”

“I can still take back the money, you know.”

“Ooh, not twenty of it, at least.” He clicks his tongue, opens the metal box. The waft of weed stronger, making your nose burn. “Gotta keep that half for risking my life, it’s only fair.”

“You are the chattiest drug dealer I’ve ever met.”

“You meet a lot of them, do ya?” You can see countless baggies of whatever he’s pushing to the side, a lighter, more random junk, and then he’s pulling out a small bag of weed. “You really are bad, Princess,” he smiles.

You have to look away from him, have to hide the cheesy smile that moves across your own face—because it’s annoyingly warm in here, and you are here to escape and get high not become best buds with him. “Just roll it, Munson.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

This wasn’t your first time smoking. You had dabbled in weed at parties since your sophomore year. Had taken part with it at the handful of college parties you had been to. You were used to the light feeling, the cravings, the giggles. Or so you thought.

Maybe you just hadn’t been smoking the right stuff. Maybe it had been the liquor you had always paired with it, the buzz you thought you felt from what you smoked actually from the malt and not the shit weed.

Because you’ve never felt this good before. Not from weed. Liquor. Even around your friends.

You felt so good right now.

Your cheeks hurt from laughing and smiling so much, can’t remember when you had dropped yourself onto the floor of Eddie’s van. Your heels kicked off and feet propped up on the cushions of the sofa—right next to Munson.

He’s not as spread out as you though, maybe a little more lax. His back slouched lower on the sofa, legs spread further apart. Jacket gone, black sleeves rolled up.

Has he always had that tattoo? Just how many rings does one guy need? Your heavy lids ache as you hyperfocus in on the bracelet on his wrist, the tattoo on his arm. Each one of his rings that don’t even budge as his fingers flex, as he uses the small pocket knife he had pulled out from his back pocket; grabbing your discarded heels to scrape the mud from them.

“You really don’t have to do that,” you giggle. “My dad will just buy me another pair.”

A smile spreads, “but you were so upset about them. Even I winced when I saw the mud pile you stepped in, nightmarish.”

He laughs along with you as you completely lose it, “how shitty is it that that is a nightmare to me? Ruined Louis Vuitton‘s.”

Eddie shakes his head, holds up the shoes. Now cleaner than before, way too clean for him to have just used the pocket knife. The bottle of water between his legs spotted upon further inspection, where did that come from?

“We all have expensive things in our lives we don’t want ruined. Shoes, guitars, people.” He shrugs, “not shitty at all. But this clean job might be.” He chews on his lower lip.

You maneuver yourself so you’re not flashing him from the bottom of your dress, as you move your legs from the couch to sit up. Grabbing the red pumps from him to do your best look over, ignoring the burn your eyes give when you widen them.

“Munson, I think you’re in the wrong career.” You tease, smiling up at him. You’re sat in front of his open legs, have the perfect view of that boyish grin.

“Shoe shiner?” He acts bashful, swings his hand around batting the air. “I’m not that good.”

“Think once you graduate you gotta start your own business, ‘Eddie’s Spit n Shine.’” You joke, the both of you doubling over in laughter. Munson holding onto his stomach as he slaps a hand over his knee.

Once your giggles have died down and you can hold yourself up straight, you watch him. Watch the way his cheeks are redder, watch the way he moves some hair out of his face. His previous words of “but you were so upset about them” and “we all have expensive things in our lives we don’t want ruined”. If this had been anyone else, one of your friends, your boyfriend, they would of been just as grumbly about the heels as you. Would have told you to trash them and offer to take you to the strip mall the next day to help you spend more of your fathers money; no big deal.

They wouldn’t have offered to fix them. To do something as simple as what Eddie had done.

And yeah, they were just shoes, and it wasn’t that big of a deal. But something fuzzy was settling in your chest, something in your stomach fluttering like it very much was a big deal.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You ask without thinking. Set your shoes down beside the couch, lay yourself back on the cool floor of the van.

“What?” He chuckles lowly with a hint of confusion. Just as surprised as you are at the question.

“Why are you being so nice to me, Munson.” You chew the corner of your cheek, look up at him. “Not like we were friends, ever, in school. And I remember plenty of times where my friends weren’t the nicest.”

“The rich kids not being nice to anyone who doesn’t drive a Mercedes? Shocking.” He jokes, makes you laugh.

“I’m serious.” You tap his knee that’s peeking out of one of the rips in his jeans with the tip of your finger. “Why are you being so nice?”

His face grows serious, but there’s still a hint of a soft smile there as he leans over to dig in the metal lunchbox again. Pulls out the spliff he rolled earlier alongside the one the two of you already smoked. You watch as his fingers run along it, “your friends may have not been the nicest, especially that lover boy of yours.” He gives you a playful roll of the eyes at the mention, that ache in your cheeks continuing. “But, you were always nice to me.”

“I never stopped them though. From being cruel.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs, grabs the lighter resting beside your feet. “You made up for it by helping me not fail biology, for once.”

Your face contorts as you laugh, “put my tits on the line for that grade.”

Eddie chokes out a howl, stops what he’s doing to double over again. “Never been more happy for the power of tits.”

Your throat hurts from how hard you’re laughing. Holding your hand up in front of him in a high-five invite, “to tits!”

“To tits!” He slaps his palm against yours as he holds up the blunt in the other one in a show of salute.

You can’t remember the last time you’ve laughed this hard. Or felt this good. This happy. This playful. This whatever-the-hell-that fluttering feeling was in your stomach. You don’t know where Munson got his stash but damn was it good.

And damn was he cute.

Wait—what?

You quickly avert your eyes from him. Look up at the roof of the van, try to focus on the posters and scattered glow in the dark stars up there. You did not find Eddie Munson cute. You were just severely high right now, and still reeling off of your incredibly fresh break up. That’s all.

You hear the flick of the lighter beside you, hear him take a long puff. Fill his lungs, hold and blow it out, before you see him hold it out for you. Taking it silently, not looking at him—you probably shouldn’t have anymore, not with how you are thinking right now. But you didn’t feel like going back to your parents house. Calling it a night right now didn’t feel right, and it’s not like Eddie was rushing you out of the van.

So you press the blunt to your lips and decide to stop thinking. Just smoke. Listen to the beat of the metal still coming from the speakers.

“Lover boy must have done something tremendously fucked, huh?” He gives you a somber smile when you turn and pass the smoke to him.

“Munson, are you trying to gossip right now? Like we are two catty friends?”

He chuckles, inhales. “Us friends?” He makes a face, smoke rolling out of his mouth. “That’s obscene.”

“Nightmarish.”

“Grotesque.” He puts a hand to his heart, “what would the moms at the country club say?”

You laugh. “I don’t think either of my parents own a gun, so you're safe there. And my mother barely notices me,” you confess. Regret it when you look over at him and see the sympathy on his expression. “Please don’t.” You groan, take your turn to smoke, holding it between your thumb and forefinger.

“Don’t?”

“Give me that look.”

“What look?”

“Like you feel bad for me.” The laugh you let out this time is anything but humorous. There’s no joy. Just a salted down wound that you don’t let anyone see—so you don’t know why you’re talking about it right now—that burns the back of your throat. “I have everything.” You mumble, “perfect life. Perfect future ahead of me, money, the car, the friends, the boyfriend. No one should feel bad for me.”

You’re staring up at the roof again as you hold out your hand to give the blunt back without looking at him. Without acknowledging your own words with anything more than woeful self pitying. Eddie wasn’t interested in hearing about a rich girls problems and you had no interest sharing them. Anymore.

A silence settles between the two of you, it’s awkward and filled with the silently passing of the smoke between you; puffs of air, breaths in. Your heart is beating in your ears again. Except this time it’s something close to embarrassment and not anger.

“It wasn’t pity.” He breaks the silence when your fingers brush against each other when it’s his turn to hit. Your eyes finally finding their way back over to him, “how could someone not notice you?” There’s a twitch in his lips.

And fuck are your eyes burning from how high you are right now or because that was teeth rottingly sweet, and your chest is feeling fuzzy again—and Eddie Munson has some pretty eyes. Fuck.

“With the hair alone,” he waves his hand around emphasizing the top of your head. “Kind of hard to miss ya.” That boyish smile coming back when you start to laugh and lean up to swat him.

“I want my money back, Munson!”

“You’ve already smoked the weed!”

“Pain and suffering!”

“Mine or yours?” He jokes and he’s putting out the rest of the blunt to hold his hands out in surrender, as you lean up on your knees to playfully swat at the side of his arm.

“And here I thought we were actually having a moment.” You scowl at him, “you can take the high school out of the boy but not the—wait—you can’t even do that.”

His jaw drops, looking fake wounded if the big grin on his face is any indication of its falsehood. “The Princess of Hawkins has some bite.”

“I’m not the Princess of Hawkins!” You roll your eyes, “I’m just me–”

“Perfect,” Eddie finishes, adds. His lips come together, he swallows. “Perfect–you.”

You make a face at him. Another childish playful insult on the tip of your tongue but swallowed down, your throat feeling drier than ever as he stares down at you with a type of fondness that has your mind thinking—and feeling—way too many things right now.

And it feels like the moment slows, time stops. You take in everything, really take it in. You on your knees in front of his open legs, your palms on the cut out parts of his jeans that showcase his knees. The fuzziness in your chest turning into something else, something racing and filled with heat. Something that should surely not be there—all from what? Meaningless flirting? Eddie jesting with you?

Weed was definitely not a good idea. You should of just went home. Should ask him to take you home right now before your haze filled mind has you thinking of doing something else you definitely shouldn’t do.

Like move forward. Your knees dragging across the floor until the tops of them are pressed to the bottom of the couch. Until there’s no space left between you and Eddie’s thighs flush against the sides of your arms, his groin inches from your face. Your palms now higher up on his thigh.

You can feel how tense he is right now. Watched his expression go from softness to rigid with nerves. And maybe you are the only one who’s been feeling something tonight. Maybe he can handle his weed better than you. Or is simply not interested in you whatsoever. All his mindless flirting just that: mindless.

But you can’t help but want to test the waters. To see if any of those things are actually true.

Leaning up, your palms digging into the meat of his thigh as you do, your eyes moving from his to his lips and back up. A hint he seems to get when he meets you halfway and your lips are being pressed together in a gentle kiss.

It’s slow at first, curious, new to the both of you. Sloppy, and you can feel Eddie’s hand twitch at his side until he loses whatever fight in his head that has him holding back, and then it’s at your cheek and his thumb is digging into your chin the deeper the kiss gets. The more the two of you learn each other’s mouths. Which way to turn your head, that slow timid way his tongue pokes at your lips and then finds its way into your mouth; the quietest of noises coming from his throat when his tongue rubs against yours.

A noise that makes your stomach flutter. Makes an ache start between your legs.

Have you ever been kissed like this? Have you ever felt like the other person was learning you from the inside out? Memorizing how your lips moved, felt, tasted. The way your own deep rooted noise slips out and vibrates against his lips when his other hand comes to the other side of your head and pulls you so close to him as he leans further down into you. The top of your cleavage rubbing against the material of his shirt, tickled by his hair.

When the two of you finally pull apart, your eyes feel heavier than ever. Feel like all your energy went into that kiss and you feel buzzed. Like you’re on cloud nine. Like you’ve never felt better, as the two of you pant. Try to catch your breaths.

Feeling Eddie’s thumb nail running along your bottom lip you look up to his eyes, see they’re on your lips. His brows pulled together.

“Munson.” You don’t mean for it to sound like a whine. It’s not. You’re not whining right now, you’re just…feeling things and really high and maybe you can’t remember anyone you’ve been with ever touching you like this. And he’s barely touching you.

You may not have thought it to be a whine, but Eddie does. The look in his eyes as they finally meet yours has you floored. Has you seeing a want in a pair of eyes you don’t think you’ve seen before—know you haven’t; needy, nervous because of that need.

And when your palm moves of its own accord higher up and over until you feel a bulge in his tight jeans, the intake of breath he does. The slight droop of his eyes. All the decision you need to act on whatever these feelings are.

There’s disappointment in his eyes when you pull away from him, just enough to have his hands drop from your face and yours finding the top of his pants to open them up and fumble with the zipper.

“Whoa,” a nervous chuckle, then his hands wrapping around your wrists to stop you. “Whoa,” he says again. His breath still heavy. “What–should we–you,” he stammers.

It’s a bit cute, but it also has your cheeks burning in embarrassment. Shit. Have you completely misread this? Maybe he just wanted to kiss. You were fine with just kissing, if it was going to be like that everytime. But there’s an ache, a want, to hear that noise again. The one he had made in the back of his throat. To see the impressive bulge that your fingertips had touched.

“Do you,” you pull your hands back, take them from his hold and chew on your lip, “not want to do this? More..” you trail off. You can’t imagine what you were coming off as right now. Have you ever been rejected? Tonight was clearly the night of firsts for you.

“I,” Munson shakes his head, and your stomach sinks. Face falls. But then he’s shaking his head more aggressively, “no, that’s not,” he sighs. Takes a breath to ground himself, his hands coming to hold the tops of your shoulders. His expression serious, “Yes. I want to do this. I just…I’ve–never thought this would be happening and that I would be admitting to it in a situation, let alone this one–“

And then it clicks.

“Munson.” A slow smile snakes its way across your lips, “are you a virgin?”

His leg bounces, teeth chewing at the corner of his mouth. “Yes.”

“Just to be clear I mean sex, you’ve never had sex?”

“Yes.”

“But you’ve done..other stuff, right?”

Silence for a beat and then he’s shaking his head. You try and fail to hide the surprise on your face, “I should take this as a compliment. Your utter shock.” You can see the blush that is growing up his neck and over his already red cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” Your smile falters for a second, “I just thought with that kiss, you had done something before.” You can’t help but look down at his parted lips, yours still tingling from them. “It was..”

“Perfect.”

That word again. Hits you the same way it had before. Has the both of you staring at each other’s mouths until you’re kissing again. This time faster, harder, the passion seeping from the want and morphing into something that now has you completely on fire. Engulfed by Eddie. Your fingers are in his hair. His hands cradling your face like it’s so fucking fragile.

“Can I taste you?” You’re panting against his mouth, running your hands down his chest back to the top of his pants that are still undone. Open enough that you can push your hand in them and move your fingertips against the top of his shaft. That same noise he did earlier coming out as a puff against your parted mouth.

He nods, “yes.” It sounds so soft and filled with need. He presses one more kiss to your lips before he’s slowly pushing himself back, giving you room and helping you maneuver his pants and boxers down his thighs. Just enough to spring his cock free.

It’s bigger than you imagined it would be—never imagined it to be. But, fuck. How has he not done anything when he kisses like that? When he’s so funny, cute, and nice, and his cock is so thick.

Your jaw aches just staring at it. Tongue coming out to wet your lips as you wrap a hand around the base of him, have to hold back the sound you want to make from the sound he makes; a shallow breath let out, just below a whimper. His hips already jerking involuntarily up, precum at his tip.

“Are you sure? You’re not like…just super high–“

“I am super high, Munson.” You smile sweetly and it makes him do the same. A low laugh covered up by you leaning in to press your lips to his, “and yes, I’m sure. Incredibly.” You hope your own look of want for him comes across clearly, not only in your words but with the way your hand starts to move on his shaft, and the way you run your tongue along his bottom lip.

A breathy, “fuck, oh-kay” slipping out from him.

It’s all the consent you need, the push to have you leaning down to run the flat of your tongue across his leaking tip. The hiss of pleasure he lets out only a prelude to the whimpers and gasps he makes when you let your tongue explore along his length, pumping and sucking with your mouth along a thick vein that runs up the side of his cock. Your thumb rubbing a slow circle behind the head of it, making his hips buck and legs tense around you.

And when you finally put him in your mouth, finally swallow down the already there taste of him on your tongue—you both let out a moan. Can feel the top half of him shift like his head has fallen back, an image of his beautifully parted mouth hung open, eyes screwed shut in pleasure has you moaning against him again; your body on fire, your pussy aching.

You match the pumps of your hand with the drag of your mouth up and down his dick. Swirl your tongue around the head and suck when you reach it. Let yourself go as far as your gag reflex will let you until you’re gagging around him and Eddie is cursing and digging his nails into the cushion of the couch.

You completely expect to feel his hand on your head, to be pushing or pulling your hair to guide you. Even fucking up into your mouth. When you’ve done this for other guys they were nothing less than over aggressive about it. So when it doesn’t happen part of you thinks he’s not enjoying it; a thought that’s quickly debunked by the grunts and shaky breaths coming from above you.

And when you steal a glance to the side you can see how red his knuckles look from the death grip he has the cushion in. How his fingers twitch and hand runs along his thigh, acting as if he wants to touch you but not daring to. You steal another glance up at him, “oh, ohmygod” tumbling from his lips when your eyes meet; he looks so desperate right now. So flushed and pretty.

You pull your mouth from him, let your lips press the tiniest of kisses to the tip that makes his hips gyrate, chasing your mouth. “You can touch me, Munson.”

“Where?” He asks shakily.

“Wherever you want.” You reach for his hand and press it to your cheek, “here, so you can feel yourself inside of me.” He whimpers, you smile. “Or here,” you run his hand down your neck, raise your brows to note that area being an option before you descend further. Until you reach the top of your cleavage, “to tits.” You say playfully and it has a deep chuckle scrunching his eyes. “Okay?”

He hums, nods. “Okay.”

And then your mouth is on him again, his tantalizing noises back and making your thighs press closer together. Making you encourage the small thrusts of his hips up into your mouth. Drool slipping down your chin when your own whimper is dredged up from the back of your throat when you feel the pad of his thumb run along your hard nipple; before his palm squeezes and massages your boob in a way that makes you move your body further into his.

The pleasure you’re giving him being handed back to you with the same energy of want and need, and it has you shellshocked. Has your body working overtime with heat, arousal, and wanting to please him. Wanting to hear more of those groans. To feel the head of his cock nudge the back of your throat and his “holy shit, that feels so good” when your throat spasms around him.

If you knew sucking Eddie Munson’s dick was this fun you would of done it years ago.

Why hadn’t you seen him before this night? Why did it take weed and giggles and flirting that turned you on more than you want to admit—to really see him. And why did the thought of not being able to look away from him again, to go back to not seeing him, something that was inevitable: make fear take root in your chest?

His hand has moved to hover over your head, his rings adding more pressure to the back of your skull than his actual fingers do. “You’re so perfect,” he whimpers. Pushes his hips up into your mouth, pulling your lips further down his throbbing shaft. “Perfect.” He repeats, your stomach flutters and flops and you preen around him. His breaths get deeper, hips moving more frequently, fingers flexing in your hair. He’s close, so so close.

And if you thought the noises he was making before were beautiful, the whine he lets out when he says, “I’m going to come, can I–oh fuck–can I do it in your mouth?” Makes your eyes roll back, your head nodding in approval and then you can feel him leaning back; a loud moan coming from his mouth, his fingers gripping the hair on top of your head as he comes against your tongue. The searing heat from it like a salve to the ache in your throat.

You swallow him down. Let your tongue lap at the droplets left on his tip as you suck him into your mouth one last time before he’s letting out a hiss of over sensitivity.

He tastes just as lovely as he looks right now. Completely flushed, eyes red and heavy. One corner of his mouth ticked up in a soft smile.

“Did I hurt you?”

“What?”

“Your hair,” his fingers rub at the back of your skull gently. “I’m sorry if I pulled too hard,” the softness of his words has your chest feeling heavy. Those feelings back, your arousal under shadowed.

“No,” you shake your head. Pull his hand from the back of your head, don’t know why, but you let your lips skate across his rings as you kiss his fingers. “It was perfect.”

His mouth pulls into that boyish grin, for the millionth time tonight. “It was.”

Maybe your summer won’t be so boring after all.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #stranger things smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things one shot #joseph quinn #heavy metal love !

[happy74827]

Can you make more Joe Goldberg? You did such aan amazing job on the first one that I NEED a second one. Just please consider. Thank. Love your fics btw 💖💖💖

Lily of the Valley

[Joe Goldberg x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Coffee might not be his favorite, but things can change when it involves a person like you.

WC: 659

Category: Fluff

Fortunately, I already had this small idea in mind for our lovely stalker man and this request really just put the icing on top of the cake. Hopefully it fulfills your needs 🙌 (also you’re too sweet… thank you so much for the kind words 💞)

『••✎••』

Coffee. The hard, hot, and bitter drink that is the reason many people get out of bed each day and the reason why some people stay up until the early hours of the morning. He never understood the appeal.

But that didn't mean he didn't enjoy the smell of coffee beans roasting, the smell of fresh ground beans being poured into a filter, and the smell of the finished product. He didn't understand how something so bitter and disgusting could have such a calming and comforting smell.

Joe had been sitting in a booth in a coffee shop for the past few hours, watching the world outside go by, sipping a small mug of tea, and his current read, "The Woman In The Window" by A.J Finn, in front of him. His eyes were trained on the people going by, not really taking much of anything in. He was on autopilot, a default setting he slipped into whenever his mind was full of something else.

It was only when a waitress with a short, black pixie cut walked over to his table that his eyes come back into focus, and his thoughts began to slow down. She didn't look like she belonged in a coffee shop. With a long, floral dress, combat boots, and a cardigan, she was far too pretty and too interesting to be serving lattes. She was a rose in a garden full of daisies, a peacock among chickens.

Then, like a snap to reality, the sound of his name pulled him away from her and onto… you. The whole reason he was here in the first place.

If he thought the waitress was a rose, you were a whole bouquet.

"Jonathan! Are you going to order anything, or are you just going to keep sitting there, scaring all our other employees?" You said a laugh in your voice.

He hadn't even noticed the waitress had already left, and now, you were standing by the table, holding a coffee pot.

Yeah, he needs to stop letting his thoughts take over.

"No, no, I was just, uh, reading."

"Reading a book, or reading her?" You said, cocking your head to the side, indicating the waitress who had moved on to another table.

"Reading the book."

"Mhm, sure." You said, not at all convinced. God, he just wanted to kiss the smirk off your face. Those pretty lipstick-covered lips moving against his.

You shook your head, smiling.

"You want a muffin… or something? On the house, since you're a regular and all."

He looked down at the book again, then back up at you. Unlike the waitress, you were dressed for work in a black, collared shirt tucked into black pants and a black apron tied around your waist.

It told him a lot about you, like the fact that you were a rule follower organized. The other waitress played confidence to stand out. You wanted to blend in, but still, he noticed.

How could he not notice you?

"Sure."

"Blueberry, right? Your usual."

"Yeah."

"Okay. I'll be back in a second."

You had just turned to leave before you spun on your heel and stopped.

"And, Jonathan,” you paused. "That book in your hands? Wonderful read."

As you walked away, he realized how his heart had started to beat faster, and he couldn't stop the grin on his face.

A bouquet? No, you were something far more rare and far more beautiful than that.

You were an orchid.

And when you returned with that perfectly shaped muffin and that award-winning smile, Joe decided this would be the last time he ever chased a woman. Because this one?

You?

It was as though you were a mix between all his past loves and yet someone entirely new.

You were that new orchid in the greenhouse, the lily of the valley, and he wanted to nurture you and make you grow.

It's time to stop blending in; he would bring you out to bloom.

#joe goldberg #joe goldberg x reader #joe goldberg/reader #joe goldberg x you #you netflix #you show #netflix you #joe goldberg x female!reader #love quinn #x reader #fanfic #reader #fanfiction #joe goldberg x yn #jonathan moore #jonathan moore x reader #you spoilers #you s4 #you s2 #penn badgley x reader #penn badgley #gossip girl #dan humphrey x reader #dan humphrey #rhys montrose #rhys montrose x reader #guinevere beck #fluff #mega fluff #joe goldberg fluff

[xofay]

𝙍𝙀𝘿 | 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙌𝙪𝙞𝙣𝙣 | 𝘍𝘌𝘔 𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘌𝘙

✧ warnings: mentions of gore/violence, cheating, she's batshit crazy, mostly comfort, mentions of sexual situations. This is my first writing since like... 7th grade, be patient w me loves </33

✧ summary: Love Quinn notices a particular pretty lady coming to her café every other day, always getting the same thing, and she finds herself getting attached, and before she knows it, your girlfriends blood is on her hands. (this is part 1 of my "Colors" collection. None of them are necessarily connected, but if you want to read in order, this would be the first!)

The Fresh Tart café had been doing exceptionally well recently, and the owner would like to say that its success was all thanks to a certain customer, you...

Love found herself staring into her glass containers, which held her freshly baked pastries, and she didn't know how long she was standing there, staring, thinking. Thinking of her favorite customer, who she recently learned only lived across the street and a few houses down from her. She memorized the girls house number. Not on purpose, of course.

Every night, Love would fall asleep, her mind racing with images of you. Your beautiful, soft hair. Your warm, welcoming eyes, how soft your skin was when she handed you a croissant, your cute, dainty dresses you wore everyday, and that red, carnelian necklace you wore every single day.

The only thing that brought the baker out of her daydream was the sound of the bells above the door ringing. A woman that Love didn't recognize had entered. The woman was dressed nicely, and looked to be respectful. Love offered her a warm, welcoming smile as she walked towards the counter.

"Hello! Thank you for coming today. What would you like?" Love would ask as she leaned over the countertop ever so slightly, trying to get a better image of this woman. It wasn't long before she noticed her bracelet. It was gold, with a matching carnelian stone on it. Probably a coincidence, right? I mean, lots of people were into crystals recently.

"Hey. You're the famous Love that my girlfriend is always talking about, huh? Just get me her usual, she's home sick today." She woman would say with a little bit of a smile, yet her voice seemed... mocking, threatening. It took Love a moment or two before she put together the sentence. You had a girlfriend. And you didn't tell her? Why would you keep that from her? You told her everything. Love would eventually clear her throat, and plaster a fake smile onto her face as she realized her expression had dropped into what was possibly a menacing glare.

"I suppose I am." Love would say with a small, obviously fake chuckle. She would lean down, picking up a paper bag, her movements had become stiff, her expression flat. She would open up the glass containers, and would pick up a chocolate croissant, along with your favorite muffin, and a fruit cup. You usually ordered one or two of those options, so Love made sure to include all of them. She would lick her lips as she sealed the treats into the bag, before she sharply inhaled as an image ran into her mind. Your girlfriend, coming home to you on the couch, probably all cuddled up in your blankets. She would hug you as she handed you the pastries... Love didn't like that image. She wanted to be the one giving you treats. She wanted to be the one to hug you, she wanted to be the one that came home to you.

"Everything alright? You've been staring at those... lemon cupcakes for a little bit now..." Your girlfriend would snicker. The baker would purse her lips as she would snap herself out of her thoughts, as she walked towards your snarky girlfriend, and would hold her hand out with the bag.

You came into the café the next morning, looking like an absolute wreck. Your hair was messy, your makeup was messily applied, not that you needed it anyways, and you were wearing a large sweater and jean shorts instead of your usual flowing sundresses. Love knew why this was.

"My girlfriend didn't come home last night, and she hasn't been answering her phone.. I'm really worried.." You would say. You were sat at one of the café tables, sipping at perfectly made coffee, looking down at your half-eaten croissant.

"Hey, maybe she's planning something. Your birthday is soon, right? Maybe she was out late organizing things to surprise you." Love would say as she would place some freshly baked cupcakes on her tabletop, before leaning down and picking up her frosting piping bags.

"I never told you my birthday." You would say, pausing briefly before looking at Love, whose back was facing you currently. She seemed to have almost frozen mid-icing a cupcake.

"I've always been good at guessing these things, you know." Love would nervously chuckle, looking back at you with a reassuring smile, before cursing herself under her breath. Maybe the social media stalking was a step too far. An awkward moment of silence had passed, before sounds of sniffling would fill the small café. The baker would instantly turn to face you, seeing your face buried in your sleeved hands, your back shaking. You were crying.

Love would instantly put down her bag, and would practically dash over to you. She would place a hand on your back, before crouching down next to you. Your perfume seeped into her senses, you still smelled amazing, even if you quite frankly looked like a mess. Love didn't mind though.

"Im sorry-" You would choke out between sobs. "She's.. she's just never done this before." You would sniffle, lifting your head up. "And we've been having some issues recently. Maybe.... maybe she just, left?" You would weakly say, before looking over at Love, your teary, glossy eyes making contact with her sympathetic, inviting ones.

"She would be an idiot to leave a girl like you, y/n. Anyone would be beyond lucky to have you." Love would say in her low, comforting voice, that she had previously only reserved for Forty. She would reluctantly reach up to your face, and her thumb would gently kiss the tears on your soft cheeks. You leaned into her touch, a small blush obviously creeping onto your cheeks.

Love would wrap both arms around you, embracing you warmly as she'd breath softly onto your shoulder, a small smile creeping onto her face as you leaned against her chest.

Red was the color of the silky underwear you had worn that night. The underwear that was torn off of you the second you were thrown onto Love's bed.

Red was the color of her lipstick, the lipstick that had stained every inch of your neck, your neck that was covered in love bites and bruises.

Red was the color of your thighs when Love was done with you. Your soft skin, marked with her handprints everywhere.

Red was the color of your carnelian necklace. The necklace that was the only thing you wore that night. It shone in the dim candlelight of Love's room, it brought out your eyes.

Red was the color of your girlfriends blood, as it was splattered all across the café. The blood that colored Love's blade. It took awhile to clean.

Red was the color of your engagement ring. the ring that bonded you and Love together for your lives. The ring that promised you two would be together forever. Love had won.

#love quinn #love quinn x female reader #love quinn x you #love quinn goldberg #love quinn x reader #gay girls #lesbian #you fanfiction #you #you netflix #you fanfic

[inknopewetrust]

𝔰𝔢𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔱

Summary: a conversation at lunch reveals much to be decided as senior year races to a close.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (Stranger Things) Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: 18+, smut, outdoor/public sex, fingering, slight angst, secret relationship, anxiety.

Quick Links: Masterlist

The tray’s plastic pushed deeply into your palms–not that you could truly feel it, however. Your gaze was glossed over, vacantly staring into space as time ticked within the line. The smells of steamed canned corn, chicken with a less-than-flakey coating, and cardboard frozen pizza couldn’t break the spell. 

Overwhelming—high school was. 

Sometimes it lost you. 

And that clock was ticking too, just like the one behind you signaling 12:17 with its skinny, frail arms pointing to the numbers. May had arrived with a flurry as the spring air quickly turned to summer and the transition hadn’t allowed anyone to prepare themselves for the end of the year. 29 days left and you’d be free. 

No more expectations from people you’d grown up around since you were five, no more eyes constantly staring and expecting the best. You’d be free of expectations, and your mind wandered with the weight beginning to lift every day that passed. 

Even in the middle of a busy school day in the lunch line, your thoughts couldn’t help but stray. 

“Corn?”

The hairnet on the lunch lady squeezed her hair so tight it began to poke through the top of the netting. Her soured expression grew as the spoon became heavy in her hand and the subject of her calls had ignored her. Unmoving, static, the woman dumped the corn back into the tray and hit the spoon on the metal buffet stand twice. 

“I said,” the woman spat, “do you want corn?” 

Your stupor broke. The tray became lighter, the dim lighting reflecting against the woman’s face startled your inability to form words in that moment. 

“Sorry…” You chuckled, shaking your head and giving her a smile. “I got lost in my head for a second.” 

The woman, even in the disturbance to her flow of lunch delivery, gave a small smile and nodded. She picked up her spoon and shucked the corn onto it once more and asked: “Corn?” 

“Yes, please.” And you picked up the pace in line. 

Senior year. What was it supposed to be like? 

You had just seen that movie… The Breakfast Club… and it challenged you. The way goody-two-shoes Claire found her way into your soul and pulled it out for the world to see; asshole activity girl with perfectly white Adidas and a dazzling smile. Perfection was only seen as such if others bolstered the idea. For you, that had always been the case and it was eating away at your consciousness as the legacy of what you’ll leave behind as you walk across the stage becomes more clear. 

A little preppy girl with no record, no sense of danger, who held her head high amidst the other social groups that merged to their tables in the Hawkins High cafeteria. For a moment after you had exited the small room that served you two pieces of stale chicken and watered down fruit cocktail, you stood holding your tray clutched between your hands and watched. 

The world revolved around you without your input. The accomplishments that littered your parent’s refrigerator and awards that dangled from the pegs on the back of your bedroom door meant nothing to anyone in that moment. As the crescendo of the year crept toward its close, you felt as though you were not doing anything for yourself—just what others wanted from you. 

Was there anything they didn’t know? 

Had your life become an open book for everyone to read and discard it once it was complete? You were concerned you had peaked and were slowly descending into a downward spiral. 

The chaos of the cafeteria accentuated those feelings. 

You felt it from the top of your head through the socks that rested over your toes and somehow, you managed to get moving again. The crippling world around you opening up once more as Nancy Wheeler’s hand shot up and began waving frantically in your left peripheral vision. Your name breaking through the loud chatter of each subgroup of misfits, jocks, nerds, and metal heads. 

“Y/n! Quickly!” Nancy was almost frantic which meant whatever she was squirmy about, it had to deal with the newspaper—not that you were a part of it in anyway. The eldest Wheeler found it comforting having you check over the articles for proof before she laid them down for printing.

Your feet moved quickly, squeaking in the slightest with that new-shoe feel. 

“Come here, come on!” Nancy rushed you and you set down your tray a bit harder than you would have liked as the juice from the fruit mix going over the sides and onto her pencil. 

“What?” You asked, pulling out the orange chair and plopping down. Your green tweed dress riding up on the sides as the shift fabric was less than forgiving. 

“Read it.” Nancy handed over two pages of a typed story as she shoved a piece of apple in her mouth, wiped her hands and cleaned the juice off the pencil with a napkin. 

“I don’t know why you make me do this… it’s not like I contribute anything to the paper and I have plenty of homework to do right now.” 

“I make you do it because,” Nancy dropped the napkin back on the table and rose her eyebrows high in judgement at you, “you have an eye for spelling mistakes. I might know how to write but I can still miss letters or butcher a word now and again.” 

“Can’t you get one of the kids to do it?” Well, you were both months over 18 now so kids? Not like some of the students who went to Hawkins High. “What about Mike? Can’t force him, huh?” 

“Like he would even give me the time of day…” Nancy laughed, glancing over at Mike as he settled with Dustin at a table with other members of the Hellfire Club… nerds? “You know he spends so much time reading letters from El that I don’t see him unless its dinner time or he passes me in the hallway. Not that I am complaining though,” Nancy digressed, turning her head away from the table as quickly as she looked. She put her arm up by her face, nearly shielding her eyes from the direction to your right. 

“And being your only friend leaves me to do it,” You mumbled, “It makes me wish that Jonathan was here to– “ 

“Don’t you dare!” Nancy cut in. She was still in denial about what was truly happening. The two were growing apart and she spent so much time putting herself into extracurricular activities this year that she hadn’t even had time to really think about it. 

“Fine, fine,” you put your hands up in defense, the papers in your right hand going up. “But I’d rather you stop doing this to yourself.” 

“Y/n…” 

“I mean it, Nance. Come on…” The eyes you gave her were pitiful, but she wasn’t watching you. Her hands clutched her fork, knuckles turning a shade of white she wasn’t. “He hasn’t written you back in weeks.” 

“Y/n…” Her voice was small so you barely heard her over the sound of your own voice. 

“I love you, I do, but it pains me that it’s been eight months of this and there is no end in sight.” 

“Y/n!” She shrieked and you furrowed your brows at her outburst. As if the world had slowed, the paper began lifting from your fingertips and Nancy’s eyes looked up to the intruder in concern. Nancy with her doe-eyed innocence gulped as if she were afraid and Nancy Wheeler wasn’t afraid of anything. 

“The end is in sight with that dress you’re wearing today.” 

The hand that had been holding the paper dropped to the table and barely missed the tray. 

Did they know everything about you? 

“Let’s take a sneaky-peak at tomorrow’s headline, hm?” His hum was melodic, antagonizing yet playful; scary, to those who didn’t know him. “Tigers win!?” He read aloud, “predicting the news a little early, don’t you think, Wheeler?” 

Eddie Munson was a two-year flunker whose presence in the school grew every year. Everyone knew that the guy had crawled his way through each semester to skate by with D’s just to make it to his senior year which had been repeated two times before 1986 arrived. Stoner, nerd, metal-head… from his looks but you wouldn’t necessarily call him a nerd even if his table had a lingering few large-lensed glasses kids with pants that were floods. On most days, he looked like a mix between John Deacon and a member of Mötley Crüe. Eddie’s metal rings glinted in the poor cafeteria lighting as he held the paper high above the both of you. 

“And what about you, Y/n?” The paper shot down quickly and ended up covering your tray, halfway bent between your milk carton and fork. “Getting the inside deets with miss clairvoyant over here?” 

“That’s a pretty big word,” you responded, not turning in your chair but looking up at him as he leaned against the table with his hip. Unlike Nancy, you did not shrink. “Are you sure you know what it means?” 

Eddie smiled. His pearly whites biting down on his lower lips as the grin made him less intimidating. You felt the effect from Nancy–her hands less white, her jaw less tense­–but what it did to you… well your heart lurched. You felt that in your toes. 

“Oh I don’t know…” He careened, turning his head and looking back at his table–all of whom were looking back anxiously. Mike and Dustin who sat there each lunch period since the second week of school looked as though they weren’t even breathing. “I’ve been in a lot of English classes so I might have picked up some things.” 

Nancy snatched the article back into her hands after her nerves had settled and huffed. “So what do you want? Can’t you just leave us alone?” 

Eddie’s face dropped for a second, his attention drawn to Nancy as her sour mood soured his own. Smile gone and no longer doting, Eddie focused his attention onto her.

“I want a lot of things Nancy but we can’t have everything we want, can we?” He played her words carefully, no true intention as to why he waltzed over to the two of you in the middle of the day. Eddie acted on impulse, even if that meant going against social rules he already disliked. 

“Go back to your table then… We don’t have anything you want.” 

“Actually,” Eddie held up a finger and pointed it at her. His face was scrunched before proving to her that he indeed did have a question even if it was trivial, “I have a question for Miss President over here.” He pointed to you and she shut up. You looked at him expectantly, not sure exactly what could go flying out of his mouth at any second. 

Instead of speaking right away, Eddie crouched to your level. You cleared your throat and shifted in your chair, wiggling a little as you pulled your dress as it tried to ride up again. Eddie’s eyes flashed down, watching as your fingers gripped the fabric and pulled. The dress was unforgiving in the best of ways. Not willing to expand as you had attempted and shot back up to where the Dean of Students would surely comment on the “fingertip” rule he so admired when you broke it. He lingered there for a moment as your fingers dragged against the fabric and barely skimmed the skin of your thigh that remained uncovered. As he looked up again he met your eyes already looking into his own. Those dark brown beauties dilated and mischievous without a blink; a smirk quickly forming on his face as tongue quickly wet his lips. 

Nancy couldn’t see the twinkle in your eye as you looked down at him from the side; your eyes perfectly hooded for such a simple question. 

“Student Body President…” Eddie began and Nancy’s skin crawled compared to your own which had not. “How does one even get there?” 

“What’s your question, Eddie?” He wouldn’t admit publically that his name from your pretty lips had sent a tingle down his spine. 

“Rufus isn’t gonna be here tonight for Hellfire and I need keys to get in the room. Thought you’d be able to pull some strings and make it happen.” You noticed he was wearing the club shirt and remembered it was Thursday. Spring break was a bit late this year and fell on the third week of March and a Friday which made the week unnecessarily busy and long. Busy week for a busy year and everything was so close to ending. 

“You think I have keys to meeting rooms?” 

“No,” Eddie shook his head and titled his head back. His hair blew behind his shoulders and you could see a small bruise on his neck to which Nancy coughed as if it were inappropriate, “but you can convince Principle Higgins to leave it open because he’ll close it if Rufus isn’t there to open it.” 

“And why should I do this for you?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “What do I gain from this… associating with a club such as yours?” 

Eddie heaved in a heavy sigh and craned his neck, flashing it more as if showing it off in a way. He ran his hand through his hair and pulled on the spot to let his long fingers linger and your eyes trailed as he wanted. Eddie knew what he was doing. When he had you, he shrugged. 

“Just asking a favor.” 

“Hm.” You hummed and glanced over his lowered shoulder at the table of other misfits that sat staring with their mouths agape as they watched their seemingly fearless leader retreat to his knees to get what he wants. One look at Dustin and Mike you knew that there was no way you’d say no, but there was hardly a chance of that in the first place. 

Miss goody-two-shoes needed everyone on her side–the people believed. 

“Fine, I’ll ask him but I can’t promise anything.” 

Eddie smiled again. He turned to the group and gave them a thumbs up and you could just about see their relief wash over their faces. 

“Thanks, Madame President.” He awkwardly bowed with his hands, rising back to his feet with a little jump that made the pins on his vest jingle. “My club will honor your decision by giving you an honorary title and ranking that holds no significance what-so-ever.” 

“Oh that’s alright–” You shook your hand in front of you and returned to your tray trying to divert anything that will spiral into an embarrassing outburst. Eddie shook his head and got louder and louder as his declarations began spewing out into the cafeteria. Some listened, some didn’t, but the moment he mentioned your name, all the heads turned. 

“Hawkins High! This shameful, scummy place! Listen here good people!” Eddie knocked into the chair beside you and in one second he went from feet on the ground to feet on the chair and stood tall before everyone. Members of the school newspaper scrambled to get the drafts off the table so he didn’t ruin them. 

“Madame President here, Y/n L/n,” all heads turned and the conversations stopped, “is OFFICIALLY an honorary member of the Hellfire Club! Just another one to add to her long list of activities…” He glanced down at you as you covered your mouth with one hand and watched him carefully. “I hear by induct her as a level 12 Paladin for her devotion to her oaths as leader of our dear class.” 

The Hellfire Club clapped. Loudly. 

Their cheers were the only thing that sounded in that room and others could hear a pin drop. Nancy Wheeler sat with her mouth open and waiting for a fly to dart in, not sure what exactly to do. She had never seen a spectacle like it. 

Once Eddie was satisfied with the few cheers that his friends gave, he jumped down from the table and turned to you once more. 

“And if you ever find your way to our little club, you’ll have to start at level 1 and earn your spot.” 

You moved your hand back down to your lap and shook your head. “I expect nothing less.” 

Eddie left without another word and the room slowly went back to its usual chatter with others making their frequent glances toward the prep table and toward you. Nancy closed her mouth and opened it again to say something but nothing came out. She had few words for the ordeal. 

“What the hell was that?” She asked lowly, looking in your eyes for an answer she wasn’t sure she’d find. 

“I don’t know, Nance… you know how that group is…” You trailed off, picking up your fork and moving the corn around in its small square. 

“Yeah! But! I don’t expect Mike to come over here and make a scene!” 

“Mike isn’t Eddie.” 

“Thank God.” She muttered and you tried to not let the bite of her dislike sting. “You don’t need to be associated with them when graduation is just around the corner. Imagine if they start running for student council and doing debate, or, or, whatever!” 

“Oh come on…” You looked at her exasperated, “they don’t want to join the clubs I’m in. He asked for help so I helped. End of story.” 

“You know he sells drugs?”  

“And?” You shook your head, not realizing that your attitude had turned as sour as hers had when Eddie first approached the table before. 

“What has gotten into you?” She threw up her hands turned to the others at the table to tried to pretend they hadn’t been eavesdropping the entire time and their eyes immediately diverted too late. They were all guilty but neither of you truly cared. 

“Nothing! I’m just saying. That’s all.” You said, drawing out your words in protection and she felt she had an inkling of clues beginning to trickle in. Did she know you? What had she missed?

“You’re not keeping secrets from me, are you?” 

“Nancy…” You sighed, pushing away the tray and losing all appetite the longer she kept talking about this. “You are my best friend. Why would I keep anything from you?” 

“I don’t know!” She exclaimed, focusing her attention back on the articles as her levels of comfort dropped further into the pits of Hell. “I just think that something’s been going on and you don’t talk about anything anymore.” 

“I’m fine,” you stated bluntly—perhaps a little harshly and she stared at you for a second before scoffing, shaking her head in disbelief and returning to the article before her. You sat for a moment until you couldn’t stand the silence and hunger had left you. You stood up, the chair squeaking against the ugly as you grabbed your tray and left the cafeteria. 

On your way out, you glanced at the table of the Hellfire Club and Eddie caught your eye, winking as he popped in a chip and you couldn’t see the way Nancy crinkled the paper up in her hands and threw it on the table with her tongue in cheek in incredulity. 

You barreled out of Spanish at 2:45 when your final bell of the day rang. 

As everyone remained preoccupied with their thoughts leading to the final class of the day, but you reached your locked, shoving the folders and books you knew you needed for homework into the bag and slammed the door closed as people truly began to fill the halls with an amlost–end of the day relief. 

Outside, the sun was beating down on Hawkins with a sweltering heat. In the Midwest, it was as though the mix of spring and summer was always skipped to lean right into summer. A trick, if you will. One or two days of good, hot weather only to be brought back to a wintery spring where a jacket and hat are needed just to walk out the door. 

In the front of your backpack, you unzipped the small compartment and pulled out your Walkman and foldable headphones, pressing play when the system was in place. The world around you disappeared as you passed the parking lot and went behind the school beyond the trees. 

Play the game, you know you can’t quit until it’s won/ Soldier on, only you can do what must be done.

You wanted to chuck the device so far into the distance that even an evening of searching couldn’t find it. St. Elmo’s Fire… It felt too on the nose for it to play first–you had sworn you rewound the tape before you left that morning. 

You know in some way you’re a lot like me/ You’re just a prisoner and you’re tryin’ to break free.

“What the fuck,” you mumbled and continued on through the forest until the break was found. The beat of the song falling with your steps every second and by the time you reached the opening, the next song in the rotation began playing. 

In the opening, it was clear. The sun shining, the trees bristling even if you couldn’t hear it and the picnic table remained unused and empty. You lobbed your backpack on the ground and took a seat on the table, not the bench. Its raw, warping wood threating a sliver every time you sat down with anything more than jeans but today was an exception. 

You liked the dress. 

It was freeing and fun; a pretty green with white buttons that matched the blouse underneath and shoes you had chosen that morning. 

You had forgone the tights because it wasn’t something people expected of you… but no one noticed and that bruised your polished ego as the clock pushed further and further into the days’ end. 

On top of the table, you leaned your arms back behind you and lifted your head to the sky that the clearing allowed to break through. You closed your eyes to soak up the small piece of joy that was the heat and you could feel the sweat begin to build at the back of your knees, at the crest of your forehead. 

Bliss as Madonna began to play through your headphones.

In your quiet reflection with your eyes closed and the Queen of Pop ringing through your ears, your mind wandered back to a few hours before. The scene in the lunchroom; how Nancy gave you the cold shoulder for even offering to help Eddie in the smallest of ways. That burned–her irritability to such a tiny piece of your existence. The man pushed boundaries. It was in his nature and whether anyone liked it or not, he was often outside the box because of sheer conformity of others to act a certain way. 

You knew that better than anyone: a picture perfect image that cannot be tainted by the simplest forms of excitement or pleasure. A fool enjoyed life more than those who stayed within its lines. And this had all settled within the last year. 

Finally, Hawkins had gone back to a sense of normalcy that you could live with and although there were pieces of the town that left a gaping hole in your heart, you tried to heal by becoming something bigger and better than you were before but you hadn’t healed. Hopper, Joyce, El, Will, Jonathan… all gone in the span of a month and even those you weren’t close with like Billy and those who fell to his corrupted being were missed. You buried it all for the sake of getting out of this God-forsaken town and yet there you were, keeping secrets and trying to perfect an image that was already blemished but trying to be something you weren’t. 

In some ways, you were spawning into something along the lines of Nancy and although you had been joined at the hip since you were kids, you weren’t her. You always were something more, something aching to be different than the girl who was so popular and once had a boyfriend who wore polos and drove a nice car. 

It wasn’t you. 

And at some point, you recognized that as the winter turned to spring and you went looking for a blunt. 

Lost in your thoughts for the hundredth time that day, you didn’t hear or feel the clatter of a metal lunchbox meeting the wood of the table. Madonna’s lyrics swirling in your mind, you wanted to be like her: edgy, fun, and exciting. Except you were a Claire—searching for someone like Bender to break you free of a life of conformity. 

It was your dirty little secret. 

The lunchbox’s lid opened with a thud–which you did hear because it coincided with the change in song. Slowly but surely, you felt the chord of your headphones being lifted and lifted until a snap caused the music to stop and as the muffled padding of your headphones did not give you the clearest sound, the music remained playing louder in the open. You needn’t bother cracking open your eyes to know who disconnected them. 

You imagined he shrugged as Jefferson Starship began playing even though he had put the mixtape together. 

Then, you imagined him debating on whether or not he should remove the headphones or leave them on–half for giggles and the other for sheer enjoyment of the moment. He also knew he might have angered you for what he had done earlier that day, but was willing to take the chance. So, he carefully lifted the headphones off your ears so they didn’t snap back and add another problem to the list you may have already began building. 

He sat them down beside the Walkman that continued to play and moved around the table to stand in front of you–your knees almost knocking into his chest as his stood at the side of the table beside the bench and guided his pointer finger onto one of your kneecaps. 

He wanted to see if you’d open your eyes. 

His finger was cold–like the kind that had been in air conditioning too long when it was too early to put it on. But as your skin met his, it warmed to an even degree. One finger quickly became two, then three, then his entire hand rested on your exposed knee and gently caressed the skin before silently, and not forcefully, nudging it open. You kept your eyes closed but the inability to contain your growing slime gave him the confidence to keep going. 

Just as your legs parted enough, you heard the rustling of the wood chips underneath the table and he drew close standing between the spot he created for himself. You, however, were still leaning back against your arms and that wasn’t good enough for him. So, he bent over to meet your body and his face aligned with yours in a mirrored look. You could feel his breath on your ear; hot and melting in the blaze of the sun. 

“Don’t be shy…” He muttered quietly as his hands fell on the outsides of your knees trailing upwards toward your waist. “Put your arms on me.” 

You complied by lifting off the warping wood until your fingers met the taut leather of the jacket’s sleeves. He must have been overheating in a jacket like that just to look cool. In one quick swoop, he grabbed at your waist and pulled you to the edge of the table so your body connected with his and the space between the two of you was limited. 

Your teeth caught your bottom lip as the smile could no longer be contained and you opened your eyes to see his dotting brown ones looking back at you. 

“I thought you’d be mad at me.” 

Eddie Munson was always looking for trouble; you had learned to accept that by now. 

“But I really did need the help.” That was truthful, you knew. 

Were you angry at what he had done? He was a showman, one prone to cavalier outbursts that people often shook their heads at but in the end, why did you leave? Nancy’s disgust and disapproval to something she did not even know about? It wasn’t Eddie, no. He had few boundaries but enjoyed the spectacle of a game. 

“I know; I know…” You nodded, running your hands over the fabric of his jacket one of his rested wrapped around your waist and the other just at the end of your dress’ skirt. “It wasn’t you.” 

“Nancy Wheeler still got a chip on her shoulder?” He smirked knowingly. 

“Yes,” you replied, moving to try to readjust a button on his vest that was intentionally crooked but awkwardly upside down, “I don’t think she appreciated your little display.” 

“I couldn’t help it…” Eddie laughed, his smile drawing wide. “This dress, baby. 

God, you felt yourself blush at his words. 

“I couldn’t look away!” He exclaimed happily, looking down at the way the dress hugged you and flattered you in the best of ways. 

“Oh, please!” You shook your head, looking away from him with your chin tucked into your chest. 

“No, no, no, no!” Eddie said over and over, quickly and efficiently as he worked your own belief that you were as attractive as he said. “I really, really love it.” 

“Well I’m glad someone does.” 

“You don’t?” 

“I don’t know!” Your reaction was killing him, his heart thumping so loudly for you and this blood flowing so freely. “I can’t stand the length sometimes!” 

“Well I love it and the fact you didn’t wear those white tights either.” 

The first time he met you, he made fun of a pair of white tights you had been wearing. Eddie called them “fuliginous” and it was the first time someone had ever said something that made you open a dictionary because it intrigued you. 

“Yeah… well… I thought the outfit looked better this way.” 

“And it does!” He reaffirmed your thoughts, rubbing the tweed material between his fingertips as his temptation brewed. You could see the impish gleam in his face; it was only fitting for a guy like him but it wasn’t as though you didn’t know that. 

A part of you wanted him to think that way. 

It helped you break away from the preppy mold you were stuck in. 

“You know,” You began, looking at his face, lips, and then the little peaking bruise on his neck from where his vest met his skin, “you don’t have to show that off.”

“What?” His hand left your waist and pulled down the side of his vest just enough. Eddie feigned innocence. “This?” 

“Yes, that!” You smacked his arm away as it returned to you. “It’s gross!” 

“It’s gross!? You’re the one who did it!” 

“I know but you don’t need to flaunt it!” 

Eddie laughed, moving to place a kiss on your forehead that evolved into one on your cheek, one on your nose, and one on your chin but not where they were supposed to be. 

“I might not have girls lining up like Jason Carver but I’d still like the ladies to know I’m taken.” You felt Eddie’s hand run up your back, moving to grip the back of your neck with a gentle yet stern grip. He was always unlocking something new about you that hadn’t been awoken. He tilted your head enough where he had you at an angle that he liked. 

“Yeah?” You questioned knowingly. 

“Yeah.”

Eddie’s nose lightly bristled yours in anticipation. 

“When is…” You trailed off, sucking in a breath as your eyes threatened to flutter close and his lips barely touched yours. You gripped the sides of his jacket fiercely. Eddie hummed in curiosity. You wet your lips with your tongue and looked up at him. He was so close, so warm on this sweltering day. 

“When is the last time you washed your hands?” You asked, not breaking the seeming trance he had set upon you. Eddie opened his eyes and furrowed his brows, not backing away or taking his hands off of you. 

“Wha– “ 

You gave him and look and it sent his mind right where you wanted it to go. At first, he looked surprised at your suggestion but he knew you took nothing lightly. The decision was yours and he’d follow you to the pits of Hell if he had to. 

“Right here?” He asked seriously and you nodded your head, eyes steady on his moving lips. 

“Mhm,” You nodded. 

“We have like a-a half hour before school gets out.” He wasn’t finding an excuse, just valid reasoning. 

“You already have me,” You told him honestly, “what’s a little more today?” 

He was speechless. Eddie’s mouth fell slightly agape and he felt like a fish searching for food. A short circuit in his brain brain as it went into overdrive. He liked you in control. 

“So,” You asked him again, running a hand over his chest where the distorted words of his club were beginning to fade, “those hands clean?” 

“As a whistle.” Eddie mumbled and crashed his lips to yours in a fury. 

His kisses are desperate and hot, both in passion and in the heat of the day. His lips claim yours as your tongue begs for refuge in his mouth, your hands moving from his chest to hair as your fingers glide across his skull. Eddie’s right hand clutched your right thigh tightly, reveling in the exposed skin that remains so plump underneath his fingertips and guides your legs open further as you bend backwards from the weight of his kiss. With one on your thigh and the other on the back of your neck, he positions you as needed, open for him and the skirt of your dress rides up enough to gather near your hips. 

“I’m so fucking glad you wore this dress.” He groaned as you broke the kiss and did as you had two nights before this moment–guiding your lips down his neck and pulling on his hair to give you better leverage. 

Eddie’s hand roamed higher and higher on your leg until you felt that same pointer finger bend and run from the junction of the top of your thigh to the top of your underwear. Your breath hitched as you tried to focus on pleasing him as much as he was you. The palm of Eddie’s hand that had been on the back of your neck moved to grip your opposite thigh and hike it over his arm. He would hold you like that forever if it meant he had better leverage on the pinnacle of pleasure for you. 

“Baby you’re fucking wild.” He muttered it almost in disbelief you’d propose this in the middle of the school day. Having the same free hour brought so many benefits. 

Eddie’s nose nudged your jaw as his hand slipped underneath your underwear and you could feel him descend down in calculated inching, finding your aching folds already wet for him. In a fell wisp, he cupped you and pressed down sending your back arching outward and giving him the perfect second to lift your leg a bit higher. 

As he pulled his hand back upward, two of his fingers barely breached your entrance and had you swooning. He watched as your eyes shot closed, mouth went slack, and you held onto his being just a bit tighter. 

“Already, baby?” He was as breathless as you. 

That fucking nickname.

Eddie kept those two fingers on the outside of your folds as you pushed to get him inside, setting his thumb on your clit with precise stress. You could feel the cool metal of his rings just barely grazing the skin too. 

“Dammit, Eddie.” You gasped as he began moving it in small circles, watching your face for the simple pleasure of his own. You had sent him into a euphoria. 

You hadn’t even noticed the three songs that had transpired on your Walkman. 

“Just do it already.” 

“Why?” His light smile teasing, “You been thinkin’ about this all day?” 

“You know I have.” 

It’s all you could think about in Spanish. 

“Well if my girl commands.” Eddie nipped at your chin playfully and kept his thumb on your clit as the two fingers slowly, but efficiently entered you. You moan and clench down on his fingers for a moment as you adjust to the welcome intrusion. Your chest was heaving and he wished you hadn’t worn the blouse so he could get his lips on them and leave marks that surely had faded by now. 

As if it were a test, he began moving his fingers at an agonizingly slow pace. The ticking clock of a half-hour final hour class ready to be released at the top of your mind, you moved one of your hands off of him and grabbed the wrist of the hand that was inside of you. 

“If you don’t hurry up, we’ll be arrested for public fornication.” 

Eddie laughed, letting the pressure of your hand guide him faster as your hips slowly met his fingers’ thrusts. He’d be dreaming about this encounter for the rest of his life. 

“I think we can manage.” He worked in unison to press hard and circle your clit while continuing to thrust his hands in and out, working himself up as the barreling heat coincided with his own exertion. 

Your body was in overdrive. Your senses were heightened, the feel of his hands in you in such a precarious moment of the day gave you a jolt of danger. Breaking the rules… You kept your vocalizations as quiet as you could, but Eddie could hear the low pants, the whines that you tried to suppress when he hit those spots just right. Even in this position, he sent you to the heavens and back with a simple movement. The coil had been winding. Winding higher and higher since you thought of this very moment an hour before as you stared at the teacher’s projector on Spanish foods. 

But maybe you weren’t fast enough. 

The tip of the iceberg was so close. His fingers working diligently as he assaulted your mouth with his own, begging for the dirty truth of your feelings toward him. He gave you everything in that moment and wanted the final precipice to be given to him as well. So close. 

And then the bell rang the moment you began feeling that tingling sensation through your lower spine. The coil was wound, reading to spring. The bell was off in the distance but it jolted you. 

“Shit!” Eddie mumbled, breaking your kiss as he reveled in your swollen lips and the plumpness that he had given them. He didn’t stop his fingers. 

“I’m close. Keep going.” You groaned as your head fell onto his chest. He picked up his movements even faster–surely his arm would be sore tomorrow. 

“I’m a-almost ther-re.” You fumbled through your words as you focused on only him. Eddie nodded and noticed that the only sounds he could hear were the whistling of trees and your panting. You gripped his arm tightly in his jacket, sweat beaded from his hairline and onto his temple. He could see it in your face that the coil was springing to life. 

“Come on, baby… I got you, come on. Show me what good girls do.” 

Eddie was enraptured by the beauty of you in that moment. The way your dress was now hiked above your hips and all he could see was the bulge of his moving hand in your black underwear. He gripped your thigh tightly and whispered those words of encouragement until finally it snapped. 

Your breath hitched and the faintest of moans released from your mouth as his fingers slowed with the feeling of your release on them. He didn’t want to move. He wanted to remember that moment forever. Eddie pulled his fingers from you, enjoying the way the aftermath makes you squirm just a bit more than before and carefully dropped your leg once he was out. 

He wiped his fingers of in record time with a bandana that stuck out of the back pocket of his jeans. 

Under the hot summer sun, you breathed in deeply to level out your heartrate and calmed yourself down. Eddie shuffled in front of you and adjusted the front of his jeans which made you laugh. 

“Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all?” You commented with no obvious agreement looming. This was the best part of his day. 

“I would have a million boners in public if that means I get to do that again.” 

Sometimes, he was crude. But, then again, you had convinced him to finger you in public with classmates just beyond the forested hill. 

You knocked the side of his leg with your white shoe and motioned for him to move so you could get down. The uncomfortable stickiness in your underwear a cautioned reminder that no one knew your secrets. They didn’t really know you at all. Pulling down your dress, you adjusted the fabric just right and dapped at your forehead as neither the heat outside or inside of your soul had cooled.

“What are you doing later?” Eddie had moved to his lunchbox and pulled out a joint already rolled, lighting it with the barely fueled lighter from his pocket. You shrugged, remembering now you had to go ask Higgins to help keep the room open for Hellfire to meet. 

“I guess I have to go to the game… not that I want to.” 

“You could always come to Hellfire. It’s not as bad as it sounds,” he proposed, hopefully optimistic even if he knew the response was going to be no. 

“And have Nancy even more upset?” You quirked a brow and took the joint from his fingers, looking at its fiery bud before taking a hit. Fuckin’ Reefer Rick and his brilliant dope. “I have to go.” 

Eddie watched as you took it like a champ. 

“Well, it was worth a shot,” he took it back once you were done. Your backpack hadn’t left the spot you had dropped it in, so you stuffed your Walkman and the headphones back in once you gathered your thoughts. 

“Oh!” Eddie stated rather loudly as he locked up his lunchbox again and let the smoke dissipate into the air. “You’ll never believe who wants to buy from me!” 

 “Do I have to guess or will you just say?” You shrugged the bag onto your shoulders and tossed the keys you retrieved into your palm. 

“Chrissy Cunningham.” 

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. 

“What!?”

“That’s what I thought!” Eddie laughed, taking another hit and offering it you but you passed. The time was ticking, you needed to go. For the duties you were questioning were calling. 

“Hawkins man…” You breathed out a sigh. This town was always turning over new ways to surprise you. “Never a dull moment here.” 

Eddie looked over at you with that brilliant twinkle in his eye and couldn’t help but grin at you. Yes, certainly never a dull moment. You kicked at the wood chips and nodded your head at the direction from whence you came nearly 40 minutes prior. 

“I gotta go before he leaves. I don’t want you guys not to meet because of Higgins’ judgment.” 

Eddie took one last hit and put the bud on the steel of his lunchbox–the sizzle diminishing its light so he could litter it on the ground. 

“Don’t let Chrissy catch you on the way out… Wouldn’t want her to spread a rumor or something.” He meant it as a joke but the truth of it stung. A secret. 

That’s the way it had to be, right?

“Yeah I won’t.” Your voice was smaller than you thought but you stood up, letting him grasp your face with the hand he hadn’t used to ruin you and pull your lips to his once again before you departed. 

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” He asked with a closed nod. 

“Mhm,” you nodded, giving him a smile that made the sides of your eyes crinkle. “Have fun at Hellfire. Don’t let Vecna ruin the night.” 

You meant it honestly, as part of the game. 

You hadn’t realized how on-the-nose you were about the night. 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #eddie munson stranger things #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #x female reader #I am in love your honor… for the 100th time this year #joseph quinn

[munsonshair]

he’s so kissable.

#eddie munson #stranger things 4 #eddie stranger things #joseph quinn #stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #eddie my love #jo quinn #eddie oneshot #eddie headcanons #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn oneshot #joseph quinn fandom #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munsonxreader #eddie my beloved #eddie munson oneshot

[wineauntie]

IT ISN’T THE END OF THE WORLD— q.hughes x hughes sister!reader

summary: three times that Quinn comforted you and one of the times you returned the favour.

notes: big brother Quinn is my Roman Empire, I can’t lie! You are five years younger than Quinn.

warnings: literally the fluffiest of fluffs, use of y/n and y/n/n, fem!reader.

word count: 3.5k+

1. being left out – aged six and eleven

You sat on the grass outside of your home, your knees tucked into your chest as tears dripped down your face. Ahead of you, Jack and Luke were skating around in rollerblades with a singular net set up on the tarmac as they played a game of hockey. You'd tried to join them, even going as far as strapping up your purple rollerskates but when you'd asked your two older brothers to join them, they'd outright told you that you weren't allowed.

"Y/n/n, this is boys only game," Jack had explained, half lifting you towards the grass and away from the road. "You can't play!"

"Yeah, you can't play," Luke piped up, fidgeting with his stick, his curls peeking out from beneath his helmet.

"But-" You'd tried to wiggle out of Jack's grasp as you reached the grass.

"Stay on the grass," Jack had urged, patting your head before he skated back towards Luke.

Your bottom lip trembled as you collapsed onto the grass beneath you, being forced to watch rather than partake. You couldn't understand why you couldn't just play with them. And as you cried, neither of the two boys noticed your tears or your splotchy face.

"Mom said dinner will be ready in an hour!"

Quinn's voice called out from the front door, in shock, you turned just in time for him to glance towards you. His face fell at the sight of your miserable eyes and he quickly shut the front door before making his way towards you.

"What's wrong?" His worried voice caused your lower lip to tremble once more. Even at eleven years old, Quinn was your protector. He was the one you ran to with every small problem, the one who'd sit you down and explain things and the one who you secretly favoured the most.

You cast a look over to Luke and Jack who continued their game, before you dropped your head between your knees. Quinn sighed and carefully sat beside you, his legs stretching out far beyond your own.

"What's wrong, y/n/n?"

That was what made you burst into tears again. A very startled Quinn rapidly put his arm around you, hugging you into his side. Your tears began to stain his shirt as he awkwardly patted your head.

"Jack and Luke won't let me play!" You wailed, as a small scowl crossed Quinn's face. "They said I have to stay here...I hate here!"

"C'mon now," Quinn tried to calm you. "We don't need to play with those two stupids." You let out a sniffly laugh as you rested against his shoulder.

"Mom said you can't call them stupid anymore," you croaked out, and now it was Quinn's turn to laugh.

"I know but I'll tell you a secret–they are!"

You smiled and looked towards your two brothers who were now fighting, pushing one another back and forth.

"How about you and me go in and have a tea party?" He suggested, scrunching his nose up as he watched Jack and Luke battle it out. "We can even dress up?" You jumped to your feet excitedly, dragging Quinn up with you.

"Please!" You giggled, pulling Quinn towards the house, your tears long forgotten. "I have a tiara for you!" Quinn painted an excited expression across his face, but very real happiness spread through his body at the sight of your joy.

2. the nightmares – aged eight and thirteen

You shot awake with a startled gasp, your small hands clutching your childhood teddy. You'd been getting nightmares for weeks yet you couldn't pinpoint where they'd begun— in reality, Jack had told you countless ghost stories about a small evil ghost lurking in your room, and you seemed to have taken that story to heart.

Tears welled in your eyes as you glanced around your room in terror, the light of a pink wall flower illuminated the majority of the room...yet the shadows that lingered left your body shaking. The horrors from your nightmares, which couldn't be remembered, haunted you and the thought of going back to sleep was virtually impossible.

Your bottom lip trembled as you clutched your teddy to your chest, and jumped out of the bed towards the hallway, not daring to look behind you. The light from the bathroom down the hall illuminated the darkness, as you stood dead centre with your head tilted slightly.

You didn't know where to go.

You'd already run to your mom and dad multiple times during the night and your little self felt rather guilty. You knew they needed their sleep– everyone did.

You stifled a whimper, your tears dripping down your face as you glanced down the hall, noticing a door slightly open. Without another thought, you rushed down the hall, your bare feet slapping against the wooden flooring as you entered the open door.

You slipped into the dark room, your teddy close to your chest as you approached the lump beneath the covers on the bed by the window. Soft snores echoed through the room as you crept towards the bed as quietly as possible. Your tears were still falling, as you sniffled and carefully tapped the lump's shoulder.

You watched as he stirred, and then a familiar voice broke through the darkness, "What time is it?" The voice was groggy with sleep, but the concern was evident.

"I had a nightmare again, Q," you whispered with bleary eyes, your voice trembling with pure fear and exhaustion. "I can't sleep. I'm sorry..."

Quinn sat up, rubbing his eyes before reaching out to pull you into a comforting embrace. "Shh, it's okay. C'mere," he yawned while reassuring you, his arms enveloping you in warmth and security. He lifted you onto the bed, his half-lidded eyes glancing towards his digital clock that blinked the time 3:45 am.

You buried your face into his chest, clinging to him as if he were your lifeline. His steady heartbeat beneath your ear offered a soothing rhythm, calming your racing thoughts.

"Want me to go tell Mom?" He asked, earning him a rapid shake of the head from you.

"Okay...do you want to stay here?" Quinn hesitantly offered with as soft of a voice as he could muster so early in the morning. He pulled you away from his ever so slightly so that he could look down at you. With a half-nod, you cuddled closer to him, letting him drape half of his blanket over your body.

"Just don't hog the covers," he grumbled, lying back down on the bed, his head burying itself in his pillow. "And don't wake up early."

You smiled and melted into the comfort of Quinn's bed, your head on the edge of the pillow you were being forced to share. The feeling of the weight of exhaustion finally pulled you under and as you drifted off to sleep, the nightmares seemed to fade away, replaced by the comforting presence of your older brother by your side.

The next morning, your mom had woken up, ready to bring you to practice, only to find your bed empty. A flare of panic shot through her body, all those horror stories of child abduction running through her mind as she exited the room with pursed lips.

Ellen peered into Luke's room first, her head sticking around the wooden frame. For a mere second, she allowed herself to stifle a smile at the sight of Luke sprawled across the bed like a starfish, his covers abandoned on the floor as soft breath escaped his mouth. She nodded slowly and closed the door before checking the room beside his.

Jack's room was messy. That was the first thing she noticed. Clothes were strewn across any furniture left in sight, with muddy shoes thrown into the corner. Ellen covered her mouth to stop herself from laughing at the sight of Jack sleeping. Jack, like Luke, was sprawled across his bed, only instead of actually being on the bed– Jack was hanging half off of it. His head was almost touching the rug on his floor — his toes the same. His head was thrown back with snores periodically escaping his mouth.

She shook her head lightly before closing the door quietly and moving towards the last bedroom in the hall. Quinn's door was ajar, allowing Ellen to silently slip in. She paused in her steps at the sight ahead of her. You curled up around Quinn, your teddy snug between you two, as his arm wrapped around your head protectively. The two of you were fast asleep, oblivious to the utter relief Ellen was feeling.

She watched the two of you for a few seconds before taking a quick picture and sending it to Jim with a soft smile. Ellen looked down at you two once more and fixed the cover over the both of you. She backed away slowly and slipped out of the room leaving the two of you to sleep in for the day.

3. sickness – aged 10 and fifteen

"Are you sure you'll be okay looking after her?"

Ellen grabbed a bag from the floor beside the couch Quinn sat on, a bowl of cereal in his hands as he watched a game. You had fallen sick two days prior due to the flu and were currently bed-bound. Your dad was out of state, and your mom had to take Luke and Jack to a hockey match in the next town over.

"Yeah, Mom, don't worry," Quinn answered through muffled words as he swallowed a spoonful of food. "I can take care of her for a few hours, it'll be fine."

Ellen bit her lip in worry glancing towards the stairs before ruffling Quinn's hair. "Don't start a fire or kill either yourself or y/n," she instructed, "she might wake up soon and might want food, only give her toast and water or she'll throw it all up."

"Mom, I got it," Quinn reassured her, standing up and gathering Luke's hockey bag in his arms. "I'll help you bring these out."

Your mom had left ten minutes after with Jack and Luke, leaving Quinn in charge of the house. You had woken up to the sound of Luke yelling and the door slamming behind him. Your throat felt raw from the amount of coughing you were doing combined with the fact you could only breathe from your mouth as your nose was blocked up.

You groaned into your pillow, your clammy hands clutching your uneasy stomach as you buried yourself beneath your covers. Quinn cautiously peeked into your room at the noise of you moving around, his eyes wide and careful as they landed on your paled face and shaking body.

Quinn hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. He had never been in charge of taking care of you while you were sick before. But seeing you there, looking so vulnerable and unwell, he knew he had to step up.

Taking a deep breath, Quinn quietly approached your bed, trying not to startle you. "Hey, it's just me," he said softly, his voice filled with concern. "How are you feeling?"

You managed to croak out a weak response, your voice barely audible. Quinn frowned and his eyebrows furrowed upon seeing how much you were struggling. Without another word, he hurried downstairs to grab a glass of water and a slice of bread for toast, just as your mom had instructed.

Returning to your room, Quinn carefully placed the items on your bedside table, as he helped you sit up, propping pillows behind your back for support. You moaned in discontent at the feeling of sickness that continued to roll through your body as he handed you the glass of water and a piece of toast.

"Drink slowly," he spoke carefully, watching anxiously as you took small sips and nibbled on the food. "You don't feel like getting sick, do you?!"

You shook your head weakly, placing the leftover crusts on your plate. You felt a tickle grow in your throat as another cough wracked through your body. Quinn jumped into action, running your back as he'd seen Mom do countlessly over the past two days. His warm hand lent you comfort as your body contorted.

Once the coughing subsided, you leaned back against the pillows, feeling exhausted but a little better with Quinn by your side. He stayed with you, chatting softly and making sure you were comfortable until you drifted off to sleep again, knowing that you were in good hands.

As you rested, Quinn kept a watchful eye on you, ready to spring into action at any sign of distress. Halfway through your unrestful nap, your body shook violently, yet your forehead was beaded with sweat. Quinn gulped in worry as he covered you with a blanket and wiped your forehead with a cool cloth.

He hated seeing you like this, it made him want to kick whoever had passed the sickness onto you.

Throughout the day, Quinn checked in on you regularly, making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed. He even brought up some of your favourite books and movies to help pass the time when you woke, staying by your side until you drifted off to sleep again.

When your mom finally returned home with Jack and Luke– both elated from their win, she was relieved to find you resting peacefully, thanks to Quinn's attentive care.

"You did well, Quinn," Your mom smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he scrunched up his nose. "Thank you."

Quinn simply shrugged it off as he looked towards your sleeping figure. Despite his nonchalant expression, deep down, he felt a sense of pride erupt inside of him knowing that he had been there for you when you needed him most.

"Let's hope you don't get sick now," Ellen hummed, brushing a hand through his hair. Quinn pushed a smile onto his face, getting sick would be worth it as long as you were better.

4. moving away – aged 16 and 20

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow into Quinn's room, illuminating the chaos of packing strewn across the floor. Hockey jerseys, equipment, and mementoes from his years of playing for the local team adorned his walls, each item holding memories of victories, defeats, and the camaraderie of teammates. But today, there was a sense of bittersweetness in the air, a mixture of excitement and sadness, as Quinn prepared to completely leave Michigan behind and embark on a new chapter of his life in Vancouver. He had been offered the opportunity to play for the Vancouver Canucks, a dream come true for any aspiring hockey player. But with it came the prospect of leaving behind everything he had ever known – our family, our home, our tight-knit community.

You sat on the edge of his bed, watching him carefully fold his clothes, a furrow of worry etched on his brow. "Are you okay, Quinn?" you asked softly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

He sighed, setting down the hoodie he was folding and meeting your gaze with a mix of apprehension and sadness in his eyes. "I don't know," he eventually admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. He ran a hand through his tousled hair. "I mean, Vancouver is such an incredible opportunity, but... I'm going to miss everyone and don't you dare tell that to the idiots out back."

You let a small smile grace your face at the thought of Jack and Luke catching wind of Quinn's unease. You found yourself nodding understandingly, feeling a pang of sadness yourself at the thought of Quinn leaving. He was not only your older brother but also one of your best friends, someone you had always looked up to and relied on for guidance and support. The idea of him being thousands of miles away was daunting, to say the least.

Even when he was in college he was only one measly phone call away and then another forty-minute drive. He was never thousands of miles away in a different country.

You nodded sympathetically, understanding the weight of his dilemma. Quinn had always been fiercely devoted to our family and friends, and the thought of leaving them behind was undoubtedly terrifying. But deep down, You knew he couldn't let this opportunity slip away – not when it was his chance to shine on the ice and pursue his passion for hockey at the highest level.

"Quinn, listen to me," I said, stepping closer to him and placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "I know it's scary to leave, but this is your dream we're talking about. You've worked so hard for this moment, and you can't let fear hold you back."

"You'll do great, Quinn," you continued to reassure him, with a cracked smile. "And we'll still be here for you, no matter how far away you are. Plus, Vancouver should be nice, and I've only been there twice, maybe I can visit with Mom and Dad?"

Quinn managed a small smile at your words, though you could tell the worry still lingered in his eyes. "I know," he said softly. "But it won't be the same without having you all there with me." He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. "I don't want to leave you all behind."

I smiled softly, feeling a swell of pride for my big brother. "We'll be okay, Quinn. Mom and Dad are proud of you, and so are Luke, Jack, and I. Hell, before you know it, Jack might be up there playing with you, who knows!"

A sense of calm washed over Quinn as your words sank in, his tense shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. He knew that no matter where his hockey career took him, your family would always be his anchor, his support system through thick and thin. You scooted closer to him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

"We'll always be here for you, Quinn," you whispered, feeling the weight of the impending separation settling over you both. "And we'll be cheering you no matter where you are, no matter what happens, every step of the way."

You sat there in silence for a moment, clinging to each other as if afraid to let go. But eventually, Quinn pulled away, a determined look in his eyes as he resumed packing his belongings.

"You're right," he sighed, his voice steady with newfound resolve.

"As always," you beamed with a laugh, as Quinn elbowed you playfully. You bowed your head glancing at Quinn briefly. "I'm gonna miss you, y'know?"

"I know," he hummed, "but like you said, you can come visit whenever you want and you can call or text me whenever you need to." You nodded silently, swallowing the lump in your throat.

You smiled, feeling a surge of pride welling up inside you. Your brother may be leaving Michigan behind, but you knew that he was destined for great things in Vancouver. And no matter where life took you, you would always be there for each other, bound by the unbreakable bond of family.

#wineauntie #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fluff #hughes brothers x reader #nhl x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #hughes!sister #platonic!quinn hughes #hughes brothers x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #i love quinn hughes what a man

[justmeinadaze]

Finally/Beautiful Stranger (Steddie X You)

A/N: Part of this AU, you don't have to have read the others to understand but it helps!

Also, please feel free to donate or buy me a coffee. Anything helps but of course you don't have to. I will still love you :)

Warnings: Former Addicts Steddie X Fem Y/N, SMUT, slight spanking, dirty talk, very light DOM dynamics touched on, mentions of lose of virginity (as well as the pain that comes along with the first time), FLUFF, These three people love each other very much and all three are happier compared to previous chapters. The talk about their new lives and careers with pride <3.

ANGST, dark themes!! of addiction and recovering addicts explored. Not new for this series but again this one is much lighter than the others. They both discussing cravings and Eddie having a slip a few months prior. Steve works at a center with children of addicts and one boy has a similar situation to Y/N's accident so she helps him through that.

The boys mention regrets including being aggressive with the reader verbally and sometimes physically when they weren't sober so DOMESTIC ABUSE TRIGGER.

There are flashbacks of them as kids so mentions of Eddie and Steve dealing with their toxic dads.

I think that's it! As always go carefully in this AU and if you choose not to read that is ok. I will still love you!

Word Count: 8358

1974

You winced as you landed back first on to the gravel underneath where you had fallen from the jungle gym. 

“Oh wow! Are you okay?!” A set of hands gripped your biceps as they helped you get to your feet. “You have some stuff on your dress. Let me…” The boy’s voice trailed off as you felt him dust off the nature that stuck to your outfit. 

“Thank you.”, you mumbled as you turned to meet your hero, coming face to face with honey brown eyes and a comforting smile. 

“You’re welcome. Are you alright? Do you need to go to the nurse or…?”

“No. I think I’m okay. My, uh, back broke my fall.” You grin when he laughs. “I’m Y/N.”

“Steve.”

“Harrington?”

“Um, yeah?”

“No! Don’t mean to sound mean. The girls in my class think you’re cute. They never shut up about you.”

The boy laughs harder and your grin grows at the sight of his scrunched nose. 

“I have no idea why. I’m not that great.”

“I don’t know. I mean…I think you are.” Steve blushes at your answer and you reach out to grab his hand leading him towards the swing set. 

The two of you talk casually about things normal children your age talk about like tv shows and music. Shouting suddenly grabs your attention causing you to slow to a stop as a boy runs around the corner and heads towards you both.

“FREAK! THIS ISN’T OVER!”

“Thomas Hagan!”, a teacher yells, blocking him with her body so he can’t follow. 

The boy pauses as he leans against pole of the swings trying to catch his breath. 

“Are you alright?” He jumped as your hand reached out to touch his arm as he held them up defensively. “Hey. Hey, it’s ok. We won’t hurt you. I’m Y/N and this is Steve.” His chocolate eyes scanned you both over before finally sighing in relief when he realized you weren’t a threat.

“What’s your name?”

“E-Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

“Oh! You’re the kid that just started here. I’m sorry, man. Welcome to hell.”, Steve joked causing an exasperated laugh to leave Eddie’s lips. 

“Did Tommy do that to you?”, you ask as you gesture towards his black eye.

Shaking his head, he came over to sit on the swings beside you both. 

You couldn’t explain it at the time, not even now, but as you sat there talking to them you felt comfortable. You felt like you had known them your entire life. Nothing in this moment could have prepared you for the future that was headed towards you all. 

##########

1993

“Where up north are you, Stevie?”, Eddie asks as he takes a big bite of the burger in front of him. 

“I’ve been up in Detroit for a few months now working at a youth clinic. There’s a lot of good kids there who just need some help.”

“I’m proud of you, dude. We’re supposed to head over there to record with this big time producer. What about you, princess? Where do you call home?”

“I don’t actually have a home right now. I’m a writer for a music magazine so I’ve been on the road mostly for the past 2 years listening to bands and staying in hotels.”, you giggle as a huge smile adorns your face. “Maybe soon I’ll get to write about you, Eddie.”

“Here’s hoping. We just got signed but the manager at the label says we ‘really have something’.”

“Of course you do. You guys were always amazing.”

“Pfft, yeah sure. Drugged out me could barely focus on the strings let alone create a melody.” 

The table went silent as a heavy energy fell around the table. 

“How have things been? Any cravings?”, Steve asks as he folds his arms to lean forward on his elbows. 

“Oh, Harrington. I’m an addict. I always have cravings but choose to resist them.”

“Has it gotten any easier. To resist them, I mean.”, you inquire.

“Yes and no. I mean I used to snort blow 24/7 and now I don’t. I can go about my day and live my life but when something hard hits me or I’m having a bad day I have to physically talk myself out of not looking for a fix.”

“I can understand that. There were a few days where I sat outside of bar staring at the front door for hours before driving away.” His eyes flick towards you as he continues. “I still struggle with regret… regret that we…ruined your life.”

“You didn’t ruin my life. You definitely didn’t make it easy but… I should have left or cut ties beforehand. I just didn’t know how. I didn’t know how…to live without you two in my life.”

“Yeah. We get that to.”, Eddie sighed as a silence fell around the table. 

It had been a long time since the three of you had been together without the vices getting in the way or taking control. You had no idea how to be around them when they were sober. 

“Hey, uh, I have an idea if you two would be up for it.”, Steve grins as he tries to elevate the mood again. “Since the two of us will be in Detroit, why don’t you come with us, honey? Maybe the three of can hang out and spend some time together again. You’re even welcome to stay at my place. I don’t have a spare room but, Y/N, you can take my bed and the two of us can sleep in the living room or something.”

“Oh, Steve, I don’t want to impose—”

“No. No imposition whatsoever!”

“I can do that.”, Eddie confirms. 

“Ok. I’m ok with that.”

They both heavily exhale as if they had been holding their breath waiting for your answer. 

#########

1976

After getting into a fight with his father, Steve ran to your house knowing you’d make everything better. As soon as he showed up, you called Eddie who biked over as quickly as he could and after he arrived, you both listened intensely as the boy vented. 

“Everything’s going to be ok, Steve. You know you’re welcome to stay here.”, you try and soothe the boy as you wrap your arms around his shoulder. 

“Why am I never enough for that asshole?!”

��Because he’s just that; an asshole.”, Eddie quips making the other boy softly smile in his direction. 

“I should just do whatever I want to since I can never make him happy.”

“That’s a good idea. Oh! I’ll be right back.”, the boy grins at you both before running up your stairs. 

“Steve, you ARE amazing. I’m sorry he can’t see that but no matter you have us.” Grabbing his face, you kiss his cheek causing him to blush. 

Music starts to play and you both look up to see Eddie coming down the stairs with your bulky radio in his hand. Placing it on the bottom step, he stagers around in place as he begins to lip sync the lyrics. 

“I'll state my case, of which I'm certain I've lived a life that´s full I've traveled each and every highway And more, much more than this I did it my way.”

The guitar starts to play and Eddie pretends to strum as he jumps to the ground, continuing to sing as he dances around you both. 

“Regrets, I’ve had a few But then again, too few to mention I did, what I had to do And saw it through without exemption.”

Grabbing Steve’s hand, you do the same, dancing to the music as you three sing along.

“I planned each chartered course Each careful step along the highway And more, much more than this I did it my way.”

Eddie spins you and you laugh as you watch wide smiles paint their faces. You loved them both so much and knew after everything they go through they deserved happy, peaceful moments like this. To you, they deserved the world. 

***

The flight up to Detroit was uneventful but Steve did fill the time by telling you about some of the kids at the clinic he worked at while Eddie crashed beside him. His eyes lit up as he spoke, telling you about the turnaround a lot of them had made and how talented they all were. 

“Amanda is such a smart girl. She’s 15 and she can draw these beautiful pictures. I’m working on seeing if I can book a gallery or something for her to show her work. Right now, she draws for her mother works two jobs to help take care of them because the dad is a junkie.”

“What kind of things does she draw?”

“She can do portraits and people. She drew me once as this like superhero. I have the picture on my fridge.”

“That’s amazing.”, you beam up at him as he smiles to himself. “Steve, I really am proud of you…of both of you.”

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”, he softly grins as his gaze shifts towards his lap. “I’m very proud of you as well. I’m glad you found something that makes you happy. When we were growing up you had mentioned writing before.”

“Yeah. I never knew what I wanted to write about but one day a guy I was dating overheard me talking about grunge metal and offered me a job.”

“Hm. Are you two still together?”

“Uh, no. We only dated for a couple of months. I’m not with anyone right now. No time.”, you chuckle trying to lighten the mood again. “What about you? Any future Mrs. Harringtons?”

“No. No future Mrs. Harringtons. I kind of spent time focusing on me and now the kids.”

“You have to be careful with that. You don’t want to fill one addiction with a new one and miss life entirely. I’m guilty of that those first three years after I left.”

***

You and Eddie enter Steve’s apartment slowly as you take a look around. It was a bit smaller than what you were used to when it came to him but he made it his own. There were posters of bands he enjoyed along the walls with some shelves lined with books he had read. In the corner of his living room was a desk with a few papers and pictures clients had drawn him over the years. A frame caught your eye and you bent down to get a good look as you took in his sobriety coins.

“Yeah, I, uh, bought one of these little frame things because it felt disrespectful to just throw them somewhere.”

“That’s amazing, dude.”, Eddie praised as he threw down his bag. “I, uh, I had an incident a few months back. I’m on the blue 6 month one but…”

“What happened, Ed?”

“Oh, um, nothing we need to get into, sweetheart. I did the proper protocol with my sponsor and she helped get me back on track.”

Steve patted his back comfortingly, knowing how hard it was and is to remain sober. Gesturing you down his hallway, he led you towards his bedroom and you grinned at the simplicity. 

“The bathroom is right in there and please both of you feel free to take anything from the kitchen. Me casa es su casa.”, he chuckles as he nervously runs his hands through his hair. “Sorry, that was cheesy.”

“Steve, you guys don’t have to try so hard. Just be yourselves.”

“That’s the thing isn’t it?”, Eddie sighs from his spot against the wall. “The three of us don’t exactly know who we are together anymore.”

You gently smile in his direction as you reach for his hand.

“We’re best friends. Always have been.”

######################

1980

“Eddie, why does that sound familiar?”, you grin from your spot on his bed where you had been listening to him strum his new guitar his uncle bought him at the pawn shop in town. 

After his run in with the lady in town today, Rick offered him something from his secret stash. He was amazed at how fast it began working, numbing the anger he was feeling and pushing him to a blissful state he didn’t want to experience alone.  

Grinning, he continues to move his fingers as his gentle voice fills your ears. 

“Baby, if I think about you I think about love Darlin', if I live without you I live without love.”

“They’ve been playing it on the radio nonstop.”, he chuckles, rolling his eyes.

“You sound amazing. I can’t wait to see you on that stage one day.”

“Pfft. Me? Al Munson’s trailer trash kid rocking it out on stage making millions of dollars and being successful?”

 Fueled with frustration, you grip his chin and force him to look at you. 

“Don’t ever let me hear you say anything like that again, Edward Munson. You are NOT trash and you’re nothing like your dad. You can be anything you want to be.”

“Yeah…tell that to people in this backwards town.”

“Fuck what these people think! I think you’re fantastic and so does Steve. You hung out with Rick today. I’m sure he thinks you’re an awesome friend.” Your eyes scan him over when all he does is nod. “Eddie, did something happen in town today? Did someone say something to you?”

His own beautiful, chocolate color hues stare past you for a moment before he blinks back into the moment and flashes you a big, tooth filled grin. 

“No, sweetheart. I guess I’m just feeling a little low today. I’m sorry.”

Running his fingers over the strings, he plays the song with much more vigor than before. 

“I would give you both night and day Love satisfyin'

Feel like makin' Feel like makin' love.”

“Mhmm. What do you know about makin’ love, Munson?”, you giggle allowing him to lighten the mood. 

“Oh, baby. I’m going to be a rockstar, remember? I know everything.”, he winks.

***

You smile as you sit in the booth watching Corroded Coffin play their music. Eddie was in a completely different zone as his fingers ran across the strings of his guitar. This was his dream; this is what he always wanted but always felt was out of reach. 

When he was in his drugged out haze you would watch him lazily try to play but stumble as his fingers trembled against the instrument. It killed you because you could always picture him on stage with a crowd full of people screaming his name. He just never believed it himself. 

“That was good, baby.”

“That was fucking garbage, Y/N. I barely played anything that would count as a note.”

“That was fantastic guys. Eddie, your band undersold your talent!”, the producer compliments making the metalhead blush. “Ok, let’s take lunch and we’ll come back in about an hour. There’s a cafeteria on the first floor if you guys are interested. It’s on me.”

“You sounded amazing.”, you grin as you meet him in the hallway. “I told you that you were going to be a rockstar one day.”

“Ha! I’m not quite there yet but thank you, sweetheart.”

After getting your food, you both sit and talk about the last couple of years. Eddie told you about some jobs he worked at in Indiana not wanting to be too far from the guys so they could practice and work on things together for the band. He mentioned Wayne and how well he was doing especially after being promoted to a higher position at his work. 

“He deserves it. Wayne always worked way too hard for almost no money and appreciation.”

“Tell me about it.”, he chuckles. “And of course, the first day he starts his new position, he gets a crush on one of the female employees underneath him!” 

That makes you laugh hard and he relishes the sound as his eyes watch you light up. That feeling of regret washes over him and he averts his gaze to his plate as he shuffles some food around.

“So, um, any rockstar boyfriends out there touring the world?”

“No, no boyfriend. I focused on myself more than anything and honestly haven’t had time for a full-blown relationship.”, you reply. “What about you? Any new girlfriends?”

“Naw, sweetheart. I’ve kind of been doing the same thing more or less.”, he answers sullenly. “Quite frankly, I haven’t met anyone who would be willing to sneak backstage of a Metallica show and pretend to be the building manager to get her boyfriend an autograph.”

This time when you laugh, he cackles with you and embraces the warm feeling that follows. 

“I told him it was for my kid.”, you blush. “God, hopefully I never have to write for them. I’ve been lucky so far but that will be an awkward exchange if they remember me!”

“Are you kidding, princess? You definitely leave an impression! Who could forget about you?” Eddie froze as he heavily exhaled and shook his head. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry…”

“No, Ed, it’s ok…”

“You would think I’d have this down by now but…”

You nod before you rise to your feet and get on his side of the table to sit beside him. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you lean your head on his shoulder as he reaches up to caress your arm.

#################

1980

Steve tenderly grins your way as he watches your eyes light up at the movie Kungfu you two had been watching. Well, you had been watching. He had been stuck in his own head after that ridiculous conversation with his dad. 

“Son, you’re about to start high school which means it’s time to really buckle down and focus. No more fucking around. If you want to run my company one day you can’t keep being lazy.”

While he had been talking there was a woman in his office waiting for him to give her attention. Her dress seemed way too tight and it inched up her thighs as she sat on top of his desk. Steve would never understand why his father cheated on his mother. To him, these women weren’t nearly half as pretty as her nor anywhere close to being as loyal as she was. 

His dad said he needed to ‘buckle down and focus’ but what he heard was ‘it’s time for you to start being like me’. 

Steve hadn’t planned on coming over but he felt weird after drinking the bottle he found. He thought booze were supposed to make you happy but he found himself feeling incredibly lonely. When he showed up unannounced, you opened your front door and eagerly ushered him with no hesitation. 

You always made them feel like they mattered. 

“Steve? Are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m ok. Just thinking.”

“Did you want to watch something else? I put this on because I know the cheesy effects make you laugh.”, you giggle as his smile grows. 

“Naw, honey. This is fine. My dad was being…himself you know?”

“I know. You know you can always talk to me. I love you and I’m always here for you.”

Opening his arms wide, you fall into his embrace and he prays you don’t smell the liquor that lingers.

***

“Oh, wow. Look at you and you have your own shelf.”, you tease as Steve leads you into his office. 

After leaving Eddie so Corroded Coffin could continue recording, you headed to the center the other boy worked at so he could give you the “grand tour” as he called it. You grinned at the drawings and pictures he had posted everywhere around him. Multiple books and files were strewn out all over the place on his desk but a particular photo caught your eye. 

“Oh, um, yeah. I still keep that there as a reminder.”

Picking up the image of you three at the amusement park, you smile as you fall into the memory. They both seemed extremely content that day as if all their worries had disappeared. You thought about that day often to especially when you passed one on the tour bus you were riding in at the time. 

“The kids ask me about you two constantly.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Do you want to meet them?”

When you nod, his grin stretches across his face as he giddily grabs your hand and guides you to a much larger room where some kids were already sitting around waiting. 

“Mr. Harrington brought a date to group!”

“Look at Hugh Hefner over here!”

“’Bout time you settle down, old man!”

“Alright, alright. All of you settle down.”, Steve jokes as you laugh. “This is my friend from Hawkins I tell you guys about. This is Y/N.”

“You’re the girl he doesn’t shut up about.”, a young lady smiles. 

“That would be Amanda.”

“I know you. He told me all about you on the ride up here. Your work is amazing.”

“Thank you!”, she beams.

Taking a seat beside Steve, you watch as he conducts the group session, introducing each kid and responding where appropriate. You couldn’t help but marvel at his change as he took control and seemed way more confident than he ever did back home. 

There was no one he needed to impress or a “legacy” he needed to live up to. He could just be himself.

“Please, Katie. Trust me, your mom doesn’t fucking care. That’s why she drinks.”

“Derek.”, Steve warned. “That’s not how we talk to each other in here.”

Your eyes scanned over the boy across from you. He couldn’t be older than 17 but he seemed to carry years of anger and burden on his shoulders. His arms were folded tight around his chest; a barrier to protect him from anyone trying to get in. Emphasized by the oversized hoodie that he kept up over his head. 

You knew this boy; you had been him.

“What? Am I wrong? If she cared she’d stop fucking binge drinking every night and actually spend time with her daughter.”

“Who in your family drinks? Mom or dad?”

All eyes turn to you after you pose your question.

“My dad. Why? Does it matter?”

“Yes, it does. I know how hard it is…to have someone you love choose substances over you. It fucking hurts.”

“Look, I don’t need another adult to patronize to me, okay?”

“She’s not. If anyone understands what you guys are going through it’s Y/N. Especially you, Derek. Remember how I told you guys about my accident and DUI? Y/N was…was in the car with me.” Steve stumbles over his words before quickly trying to regain control again. 

“Hm. Did you rat him out? Is that why he’s clean now? Are you going to tell me I should be open and honest or some shit?”, the boy spat.

“No, I didn’t. I actually told the police I didn’t remember who was driving. Took a couple of weeks though because I needed surgery after metal from the car sliced through me. He never even came to the hospital.”

“Wow, Mr. Harrington. You were an asshole.”, a girl sighed. 

“I was wasted and terrified. I couldn’t face what I did to someone I loved.”

Derek’s eyes were suddenly glassy as he adjusted his body in his seat.

“He does love you, honey.”, you coo towards the boy as his bottom lip quivers. “If it were as easy as putting the bottle or drug down they would. Some people can but for others it’s so much harder. Whether they heal or not is ultimately up to them but no matter what happens, Derek, none of it is your fault.”

The young man sighs as he breaks down and the girl beside him wraps her arms around him as he cries. A palm touches yours and you turn your head to see Steve’s soft eyes taking you in. 

You see the never-ending apology within them as flashes of the old boy you knew before the booze pushed through before receding as he flashes you a gentle grin and lifts his hand. 

################

1983

“Guys, really? Do we have to eat all this before going on the rollercoaster?”, you giggle as you watch Eddie pour more cheese over the nachos in front of you three.

“Yes, sweetheart, we do.”, he answers in a serious tone as his tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth. 

“And the cherry on top.” 

Steve produces a cupcake from his side and places it in front of you as the metalhead pushes a candle through the top of the frosting. You smile as Steve cups his hands around it while Eddie pulls out his lighter and ignites the wick. 

“Now make a wish and blow out your candle.”

Your gaze shifts between their happy faces as they wait for you to complete the task. 

“I wish everyday could be like today.”

As you blow it out, both boys clap and cheer making you blush as Steve kisses your cheek. 

“Happy birthday, beautiful.”

Eddie leans over to take hold of your jaw and peck your lips before sitting back down. 

“Happy Birthday, princess. Now, you eat this while sire and I devour this here.”

“Why do I have to and she doesn’t?”

“Because it’s her birthday, Steven! No stop whining and say Ah!”

As the boy scowls he unhooks his jaw and Eddie shoves a chip into his mouth making you laugh as you lean against him. 

“Oh my god, you two are ridiculous! I love you so much.”

***

You laugh hard at the joke Eddie had made as Steve struggles to keep soda inside his mouth while he cackles with you. 

“I really missed you guys.”, the metalhead announces, his gaze shifting between you both. “I mean I’ve made a lot of new friends you know but I talk about the things we used to do like me doing Karaoke to make Steven laugh or you and I, Y/N, going to the horror movie marathon just outside of town.”

“I remember that. That was so much fun.”, you smile. 

“One of the things I enjoy about my job is interacting with those kids. Most of them are sarcastic as fuck like you, Ed, or extremely kind like, Y/N. Thank you for what you did with Derek today by the way. He struggles to talk about his relationships with anyone let alone about his dad.”

“May I ask what happened? You mentioned our accident…”

“Um, yeah. It was kind of the same thing. His dad hit a car with him in it while drunk, ran from the scene, and Derek took the blame. His dad begged him to before he bolted…kid was only 15.”

“Jesus.”, Eddie sighed. “Sounds like my dad.”

“He seems like a good boy. He’ll be okay.” You flash him a comforting grin and he can’t help but smile back. “I, um, I feel like we keep ignoring the elephant in the room. I want you to know I am genuinely so proud of you both. Steve I never imagined you’d be as confident as you seem now. You always told me you thought you were worthless and I know that’s because of your asshole dad. I watched for years as you lived in his shadow but were still so terrified of becoming him… Those kids don’t have to experience that because they have you now.”

“Eddie, you were always afraid of people abandoning you and numbed yourself constantly. When you were numb you were so angry and heartbroken. When I saw you playing your guitar again with your band… you finally seemed at peace.” 

Your voice cracked as a tear escaped your eye and you awkwardly laughed as you wiped it away. 

“That’s all I ever wanted for you two.”

“6 months ago… when I relapsed… I was in such a low place. My apartment I was staying in got robbed, I had just been let go from a job I was at, and this girl I was dating said she didn’t want to see me anymore. She said I was loser and it fucking hurt like hell. I felt so alone and it was almost like a dream. I barely even remember where I bought the drugs or how I got back home but as soon as it hit my nose I regretted it.”

“Y/N, I saw your face and everything I wished I could take back. The fights, the names, the pain… The way we talked to you.” He cringed as memories flashed through his mind.

“I get that. Of course, my biggest regret is the accident but the one I think about the most is the first time we were intimate when we…I…” You looked at Steve with sincere confusion not thinking anything of that night. Then again compared to all the others you had after it was just a blip in a chaotic timeline. “Y/N, honey, you lost your virginity on my couch after threatening to leave us because of the jugs of liquor you found in my trash.”

“We should have done it right. I picture us taking you to dinner and you’d be wearing that red dress we loved.”

“Yeah, that one floofed out above your knees kind of like a tutu.”, Eddie chuckled. “With your hair up in a ponytail so we could so your face. You always wore make up but you never needed to. You were…are… so beautiful.”

“How are you two dressed?”, you murmur their way.

“Let’s see. I’d probably have my jeans and black shirt but I would have made sure it was clean with little to no cigarette smell.”, the metalhead jests causing you two to let out a little laugh.

“I’d have worn jeans to but a nice polo shirt I think to go with it and that expensive cologne my dad kept buying me.”, he smirked. “We’d take you to Enzos because you deserve a nice meal but of course you would complain about the prices even though we insist it’s no problem.”

“Some soft music would be playing and we’d ask you to dance.”

Steve rises to his feet and messes with his stereo till a slow 70s song flows through his speakers. Extending his hand to you, you take it as he pulls you to your feet and places one of his palms on your lower back as he holds the other in the air. 

“Is this ok?”, he whispers under his breath, exhaling heavily in relief when you nod. “I would tell you about how I fell in love with you the first time I met you. You said all the girls in your class had a crush on me but I didn’t get it. I think I said something along of the lines ‘I’m not that great.’ And you said—”

“I don’t know. You seem pretty great to me.”

He tenderly smiles at your response before grabbing your hand to spin you and pass you to Eddie who was waiting with open arms. 

“I would have probably made a joke about the music saying that dancing to Dio is way better.” He smiles when you giggle. “I’d tell you that the first time I saw you I thought you were way too good for me. I remember you asked about my black eye my dad had given me and it surprised me. Every other adult already assumed or were afraid to ask, staring at me constantly. But you actually fucking cared.”

“Then what would happen?”

Eddie passed you back to Steve and this time you wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your head against his chest. You didn’t see it but he and the metalhead exchanged a glance filled with slight worry as he held you and leaned his cheek on top of your head. 

“Y/N, honey—”

“You don’t have to answer. I can let you go, we can get ready for bed, and go back to being friends. We’ll always be at least that because I agree with Eddie. I miss you two so much but unlike the first time I left…I don’t feel bad about it.” 

Pulling away from him, you back up a bit to address them both. 

“I’m happier than I’ve ever been and you were right in the letter you left me. I had some more healing to do to. I needed to find out who I was without you and now that I figured that out…I want to see if…maybe…we can start over. I mean we’ve all grown so much and I’d like to get to know the two men in front of me.”

Their eyes continually scan over you, trying to understand and get a true read to make sure you’re alright.

“But like I said, you don’t have to. We can go back to laughing or go to sleep. If it makes you feel better, you taking my virginity that morning…I don’t remember it being a bad experience. Yeah it hurt but it was going to for me anyway and not just because I was virgin.”, you tease, smirking their way.

You were surprised when Eddie was the first to move, taking agonizingly slow steps till he was directly in front of you with his nose hovering just above your own. After blinking a couple of times, he pulled you into his embrace and you closed your eyes as you inhaled his signature smell while clinging your arms around him. 

“I love you.”, you whisper. As if your words were a match, they ignited the metalhead’s passion as his hands tilted your head back and he kissed your lips. As if muscle memory was taking over, you clung to his neck as you jumped up into his arms and his hands promptly took hold of your thighs as your legs wrapped around him. 

As he starts to carry you, his feet give out underneath him as he trips over something and you both tumble to the floor. He manages to keep himself from crushing you as his palms shoot out to catch himself on the hard wood. 

“Fuck! Shit, I’m so sorry. I forgot for a moment this wasn’t my place.”, he chuckles shakily. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”, you laugh.

“I feel like a fucking teenager. I’m actually…I don’t know…nervous.”

“Would it…make you feel better if I admitted I’m nervous to? It’s been a while for me and if I’m being honest I think I’ve only been with you guys sober that one time but that was after that intense session. We’ve never been together…like this.”

Wind moves your hair and you both turn to see Steve laying out one of his blankets with a couple of pillows on the floor. 

“I wish I had lost my virginity to you.”, he admitted. “I was wasted and I’m ashamed to say I don’t even remember the girl’s name. I think you’re the only girl…woman… I’ve been with sober.”

“I was half awake.”, Eddie sighed. “Karla something in the back of my van. I barely remember it either.”

“Were you rough with the other girls like you were me?”, you asked.

“Sometimes but you were the only one that seemed to enjoy it.”

“Did you?”, the metalhead asked. “We never even asked what you liked in bed. Just kind of did our own thing…”

“I did and I didn’t. I hated when we did it after a fight. Kind of like that night we went to Steve’s house after spending time at The Hideout. Eddie said I wanted to fuck Andrew and Steve, you got mad at me because I defended you in front of your dad. You said I butted in and made things worse. You both said you were going to use me one last time before I abandoned you.”

“And I choked you too hard…”

“Sometimes if you both were angry enough the line would blur.”

Steve’s head hung knowing he was the culprit of most of your verbal sparring matches with him. He cringed every time he thought about the awful things he had said to you while drunk. 

Scooting closer to him, your hand reached out to grab his chin lifting his face so you could see his eyes. 

“I love you to.” The man sighed as your thumb caressed his bottom lip. “Show me the men you are now.”

When his lips connected with yours, you wanted to cry because for the first time in a long time you felt safe. Your tongues mingled together as his hips grinded down against yours eliciting a soft moan as you turned your head to find Eddie. Steve’s mouth continued to travel to your neck as he clung to you, your fingers threading through his hair as the metalhead leaned down to kiss the other side. 

Kisses and stolen touches were exchanged as clothes were removed, you not wanting them to be too far for very long as their lips refamiliarized them with your body. Lifting your legs open wide over both their hips, you mewled as their fingers ran delicately up your thighs. 

“This is what we should have done.”, Steve whispered in your ear. “We should have taken our time with you; made you feel more comfortable.”

“Made you feel good and help prepare you.”, Eddie added as he tenderly kissed your cheek and the side of your face. 

When his thick fingers slide into your core, your eyes rolled as your head dipped back. Both your palms ran along cocks and the sound of their groans in your ears had you clenching tightly around his digits. When Steve joined his friend and massaged fast circles into your clit, you knew you wouldn’t last long.

“Fuck, please. Just like that.”

They each grinded against you, desperate for relief as the sound of your slick filled the room as they picked up their pace. 

“That’s it, honey. Cum for us.”

“We got you, pretty girl.”

Your body trembled as you came, your lips searching for theirs as their fingers guided you through. 

“Fuck, that was sexy.”, Steve panted against your lips as he maneuvered himself on top of you. “Wait, fuck, do I need…I may have some condoms somewhere…”

“No. It’s ok. I’m still on the pill.”

Softly grinning down at you, he places a peck on your lips before trailing kisses along your cheek and to your ear. 

“We should have asked that first time. We didn’t even bother. We were so afraid you really were going to leave…”, he whispered. Reaching between your bodies, he gripped the base of his cock and gradually guided it into your core. “Oh my God, Y/N.”

Steve groans as your pussy stretches to accommodate his size and the memory of that evening smacks into you like a ton of bricks. 

“Steve, you’re so big. It won’t fit—”

“It will, honey, I promise…”

“Just go slow and keep talking to me.”

“No, no, baby. You’re ok. Eddie, fuck, can you—”

“Are you ok, sweetheart?”

“Hurts.”

“Hey, are you alright? I’m not hurting you, am I?”

Tears start to fall from your eyes but as the man lifts himself up to pull out and comfort you, you wrap your arms around him to hold him to you. 

“I’m ok. Don’t stop, please, and don’t stop talking to me. You feel so good… I just…I love you.”

His heart flutters at your admission every time he hears you say it. They both thought they had lost you forever and rightfully so but to know they have a chance… they weren’t going to waste it this time. 

Steve slowly began pumping his hips, relishing the feeling of you clinging to him again. 

“I love you to, baby. This is how I should have taken you that first time, nice, slow, and—fuck—so deep. Your pussy so fucking tight as it pulls me in. I can feel you everywhere, Y/N, you’re so warm and wet. You take my cock so well…such a good girl.”

Your eyes rolled as you clenched at the name. With anyone else you had been with you never allowed them to play rough or tell you things like how good of a girl you were or anything like that. It reminded you of them and truth be told you only really believed it when they said it. You didn’t want to push them but you wanted them to know it was ok to be a bit more passionate when it came to you. 

“I’m your good girl?”, you whimper making him moan. 

“Fuck, yeah, honey. You’re our good girl.”

“Then fuck me like a good girl deserves, Steve.” As his head falls between your neck and shoulder, your fingers cling to his hair as he thrusts his cock into you a bit harder than before. “That’s it. Just like that.”

Your eyes swiveled to look for Eddie, finding him beside you both stroking his length as he waited. The sight drove you wild as the other man moved at a faster rhythm, pounding into that sensitive spot inside you that had your jaw going slack. 

“Please…please, Steve. I’m gonna cum.”

Reaching for your hands, he pinned them above your head as he held them in his own, intertwining his fingers with yours as he sucked little marks on to your neck. 

The coil in your belly snapped as you repeatedly moaned his name, his lips hastily meeting yours to swallow your moans as he chased his high. 

“Can I swallow your cum, baby? Please?”

He doesn’t respond as his eyes stare into your own but as his hips sputter he quickly pulls out of you and crawls up your body to push his dick into your awaiting mouth. His fingers tangle in your hair as you bob your head and he mewls as he spills his release down your throat. 

As he backs away from you, you sit up and kiss his lips, his palms cupping your face as he holds you close to him. After caressing his cheek and silently assuring him you were alright, you shimmed your way to the metalhead and wrapped your arms around his neck as he adjusted himself till you were sitting on top of him straddling his waist. 

“It was my first time with the woman I loved and I didn’t even get to see your face.”, Eddie murmured as his hands traveled down your sides to rest on your thighs. “I barely even checked in to make sure you were ok.”

As he spoke, you continued to look down at him as you dragged your pussy lips along his cock.

“I should have had you on top of me just like this so I could see you and you could see me. See that beautiful face scrunch right here when you slide me in.” He smiles when you giggle as he pokes your forehead. “Fuck, Y/N, I missed a lot of things but nothing more than your laugh, sweetheart.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you tilted down to kiss his lips and his palms clung to the base of your neck as you guided your hips down onto his length. 

“I love you, Eddie.”

“Mmm—I love you to, pretty girl.” Subtly bouncing on top of him, you both mewled as his tip hit that soft spot repeatedly. “There you go, princess. Still so fucking tight.”

Your eyes searched his face as he licked his lips and arched his neck, the veins along his throat making you moan. 

“Spank me.”, you plead as your nose grazes his. “I promise it’s ok.”

His eyes fully open, meeting your own as you place his hands on your behind. Gauging your reaction, he kneads your meaty flesh as he guides your movements.

“Fuck, baby. You look so sexy riding my dick. Make yourself cum. I want to feel your pussy squeezing me.”

Bouncing as hard as you can, your head falls on his shoulder as his palm spanks your ass and he feels your warm breath heat his skin. 

“A-Again, Eddie. Just like that.”

Ring laced fingers take hold of the back of your neck as his other arm circles around your waist to hold you still as he plants his feet and thrusts up into you meeting your motions with a hard one of his own. 

“Like that, Y/N? That the spot? I know, sweetheart, I got you.”

That wasn’t the first time he had ever said those words to you but this was the first time you ever believed him. 

“Say it again.”

His head turned slightly to kiss your temple as he softly murmured his last sentence till you tumbled over the ledge and he spanked you again as he helped you ride your high. Leaning back on your knees, he followed you and you hugged his head to your chest as you rolled your hips till you felt him warm your insides. 

His lips roamed your skin as he guided your sweaty bodies on your sides. A second set of welcomed kisses glided along your shoulder blade as you felt yourself slowly drift off into bliss. 

###############

1982

“Fuck, why am I nervous? We’ve known her since like 4th grade.”, Steve hyped himself up as they sat outside your door in his car. 

“Yeah, but this is different. We’ve never looked at her that way before and vice versa.”, Eddie sighed.

“I mean…I always thought she was beautiful. I just…what would a perfect girl like that want with an asshole like me?”

“Steve, you’re not a…well you’re a little bit of an asshole.”, the metalhead teases making his friend laugh. “I get it though. She’s perfect to me to and deserves more than some trailer trash felon’s kid.”

As his hands begin to shake, he reaches into his leather jacket for his pack of cigarettes.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m ok. I just haven’t had a hit all day and I’m jumpy. I wanted to be sober for our first date with her.”

Steve smiled at his friend as he flashes him his jacket pocket. 

“Same. No flask or any alcohol.” Eddie nodded as he patted the man’s shoulder. “You’re not trailer trash, Munson. I hope you know that. You’ve been my best friend to and I’ve never once seen you that way. I love ya, man.”

“Aw. I love you to, Harrington.”, he replies in a high pitch sing song voice before glancing out the window. “Thank you. I don’t know where I’d be without you guys.”

Grinning, they both hop out of the car and knock on your door, their jaws dropping when you greet them in a beautiful blue dress they had never seen on you before. 

“Wow, you two look handsome.”

“We don’t look half as good as you. Oh my god.”, Steve compliments making you blush. 

Eddie extends his arm like he had seen so many times in movies, his smile widening when you loop your own through it and lean over to kiss his cheek. 

#############

You woke up to the sound of beeping as your eyes opened in search of the noise. Steve groaned as he rolled over, blindly searching before holding up his watch, and pushing the button to silence it. 

“Do you have to go to work?”, you whisper, smiling when he shakes his head and turns back onto his side reminding you of the little boy who used to do sleep overs with you in elementary school. 

As you try to face him as well, you realize a tattooed arm is laying across your chest and glance over to see Eddie on his tummy with his messy hair blocking his face. Tenderly, you reach over to move it to the side, rousing him from sleep as he scrunches his nose and blinks before pulling you closer to him till his nose was pressed against your cheek. 

The first time you met him his hair was extremely short and he had bruises everywhere. When he came to your house, you could tell he felt out of place but you extended your hand and allowed him to hold it if he felt uncomfortable. Those first couple of times he stayed over, you would wake up with the back of his palm near yours. 

Fingers tracing your skin bring you back to the present as your eyes meet Steve’s and he smiles as he runs them up your arm and down your stomach. Your breathing hitches when you feel the tips along the scar on your stomach. 

“Does it still hurt?”

“Sometimes…when it rains or snows… or when I dream about it…” His amber eyes scan your face as you continue. “Those are the two experiences I think about a lot still. You two screaming at each other before leaving me and finding Eddie ODed…”

The man’s thumb caressed your skin as he kissed your skin.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“I meant what I said before that night two years ago. I forgive you both. This past week just hearing and seeing how far you two have come… I loved you both so much but I never felt safe. Last night and right now… I feel like it’s finally safe for me to let go and trust you again. If you want that…if you want me…”

Eddie’s lips abruptly crash to your own before kissing your nose and up to your forehead. 

“I love you so much, Y/N. I will always want you, baby. I promise you ARE safe with me. I got you.”

Steve lightly grips your chin, turning you to face him as he kisses your lips as well. 

“I love you, honey, and you are all I’ve ever wanted. You’re safe with me to and you both are more than welcome to stay here or we can look for a bigger place. Whatever we have to do, I’m in.”

You held them both to you as the tears began to flow, thankful that your lives would no longer be trapped in memories but new beginnings with the two people you loved the most and loved you. 

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[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: the first cracks; they're here - and, again, you don’t need to have read define close or explain us, but it’ll obviously give you backstory, which might help!

Wordcount: 3.6K

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

It was silly. Joe was being silly.

He knew it, and felt so stupid for it. Like, in hindsight, the worrying felt so dumb. The constant milling shit over didn’t change anything, there was no real point to it. Although, maybe you being on his mind in this... new manner was what summoned you last night.

You just showed up, talking about a crazy day, no sad pouts, no needy touches. Just jittery movements and a lot to tell him.

Joe kind of sat back on his sofa, spread out and leaning into his left elbow and watched you pace around his lounge. Something about something a colleague had said that then turned out to be lies and you found out something by overhearing a phone call you weren’t meant to overhear – Joe was barely following along. Didn’t really try his best to, if he was honest.

He was moreso paying attention to what you were actually doing – were you even aware that you had started grabbing random things he had left lying around on his coffee table, on the kitchen island, on the counters, and one by one, put everything away where it was meant to go?  

Joe pursed a smile as he realised you knew exactly where everything went. Why did that make his chest ache in the best of ways?

This new casual form of intimacy seemed so small, but Joe felt how it smothered that little grain of doubt that resided in his chest. That little grain that had convinced him that you were probably going to fall into a new routine with your new flatmate after he moved in and, then you would probably grow close to him and Joe knew how you... no.

No.

He couldn’t think that.

It wasn’t fair on you. He caught himself trying to finish the thought a lot, but he knew it wasn’t fair. Wasn’t true. He didn’t even fully believe it. It was this thing. Still, he also couldn’t help how it simultaneously made him grow a little more possessive and made him want to prepare for the worst.

But, she was here, he had to remind himself.

She’s here.

And she was wandering around his space, letting her train of thought flow freely from her brain into his living room and he used to witness this all the time when you lived together still. Joe realised he’d actually missed it a lot, and wasn’t that the whole point? That he got to miss you now?

God, Joe missed you a lot and you were right there and he could just burst at the seams at how fucking lucky he felt.

He was a just normal guy in a normal flat with a normal relationship– well, normalish relationship, anyway. Not that you had talked about anything yet. Of course you hadn’t. But it was pretty fucking obvious what this was. So he had started shrugging whenever someone would ask if you were actually together, which felt a lot better than the forever, “No, we’re flatmates, what are you talking about?” he used to throw at people, practically gaslighting them out of whatever they thought they’d witnessed between him and the girl that he used to live with.

It was working. The plan he had made, this vague idea of normalcy; it was working out the way he had wanted it to.

And yea, sure, you were getting a new flatmate and Joe had a difficult time not feeling some type of way about that, but, he had made the decision to move out and, look at you now.

“Do you think I can get a raise out of this? Or at least get a weird bonus, mid-term?”

Joe had a hard time not laughing at your question as he saw you had already mentally moved onto something else. You were stood in the middle of the room, both hands on your hips, eyes scanning the room. Everything tidy and organised.

“Joe, when did you last clean?”

Joe followed your gaze up into one of the corners of the ceiling.

“I cleaned today.” Joe said, knowing you’d likely not take it as an honest answer. You had lived together, remember? No fucking way was Joe ever going to feel the urge to maybe sometimes swipe a feather duster across the upper corners of his living room.

You shuddered at the thought of what resided behind his curtains there.

You sighed and tutted and turned back to Joe’s kitchen like you were going to start cleaning his fucking ceilings at half past ten at night.

“Hey, no. No, no. Stop. Will you come sit down a second? My god.” Joe huffed, feigning annoyance. When you turned on your heel and giggled as you scurried over, Joe let a laugh escape his throat just before you let yourself fall into the cushions next to him.

He hooked an arm around your neck to pull you in so he could press his nose into your cheek a second. You gladly let him, and when he held you close like that for longer than you initially thought he would, you suddenly realised you’d just been talking about yourself for twenty minutes straight.

Just barged in with unimportant thoughts on your mind that you just verbally vomited right into Joe’s space. You knew it was mostly nervous energy that was only there because your new flatmate picked up his keys earlier, which now meant there was every opportunity for someone to just... walk into your flat at any given time. That had unexpectedly brought on way more anxiety than you previously thought it would do.

Hence why you decided to just... escape it, and went over to Joe’s to spend the night there.

Joe was pressing his nose into your cheek and held you in place for a bit before he moved his head down, hiding into your neck a second.

“You okay?” you asked softly, head tilting down a bit.

“Mm, yea, fine.” Joe inhaled deeply, before pressing a few small kisses to the crook there and moving back to look at you the in eye. He unhooked his elbow from around your neck and placed two cupped hands on either side of your face, swiping bits of hair back in the process.

Joe was leant all the way back into the sofa, head squished in between two of the back cushions and you took a moment to look at each other. Joe studied your face and rubbed his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks until you grew shy.

“You look tired,” you softly said before Joe sat up a little and leant closer. It had you close your eyes just before scrunching up your nose as he kissed the very tip of it.

“I am tired.” He mused, copying your nose scrunch when you blinked your eyes open again, and Joe looked so soft. Sort of pleased with life, happy to be where he was and like he’d just had a really good productive day. He blinked slowly, eyes only half open, and looked sleepy enough to slip right into dreams the second his head would hit his pillow.

You loved him like this. His hands on you, all soft touches. Comfy and cosy and calm. Just you and him. No one else. No threat of someone randomly walking in.

This was perfect.

“Mmm, me too.” You smiled and let Joe grab one of your elbows to pull an arm across his stomach as he sat back again.

“I’m not surprised. You’ve just done a 5K as you tidied this room, I think.”

You huffed a laugh as you sank into Joe’s side, and then you sat like that in silence for a moment. No TV on. No phones in sight for some easy distraction. Just you and Joe and the view of his living room.

“Are you okay?” Joe suddenly asked, emphasis on the you, and you tried hiding the small, hitched intake of breath by quickly nodding and casually going, “Yea. Fine.”

You could feel how Joe tucked in his chin to look at you.

He waited. Wasn’t going to tell you, “No, be honest...”, but also wasn’t going to accept it and move on. It was still like that. He knew you were lying, and you knew he knew, no words shared at all.

So you sighed and took a second, and then said, “Josh picked up his key today.”

And you didn’t want to explain what that meant.

Didn’t want to tell Joe that, for a while, this existing-in-two-flats thing had just felt like a bit of a joke. Just the two of you playing and being silly about whatever you really were. You still sort of thought of him as a flatmate because he still came over all the time, and you went over to his all the time too. You existed in the same space almost just as much as before, sort of.

But now a new flatmate was actually moving in, and suddenly, it felt like reality had slapped you right across the cheek like it had done that day that Joe moved out.

You’d gotten to hide away for a lot of that.

And there was no real hiding this time around.

You couldn’t go home and pretend Joe was going to move back in eventually, because now Josh’s things were going to be all over the flat. Which was fine. Josh signed a lease. His things were allowed to be all over the place.

It was just... things were getting real now.

Shit was real.

“Which reminds me,” you suddenly piped up, pushing uncomfortable thoughts down, tucking those away for another time and place. “This is going to save you some money!”

You saw how Joe’s mouth slowly stretched into a smile as he watched how his own feet rubbed against yours. Then he caught himself and quickly furrowed his brow, saying, “No, I don’t think it works like that.”

You copied his expression, but were more confused than anything else.

“Of course it does. Josh signed the papers, he’s going to start paying rent now, you–”

“I said that I had taken care of things, didn’t I?” Joe interrupted you, fingers playing with the folds in your sleeve of the arm that rested over his stomach. “Can’t just not keep a promise like that.”

You blinked at him a second, then moved to sit up to stare at him harder. If both Joe and Josh paid rent, that basically meant that you... got to live for free for a while? That math wasn’t mathing. One plus one wasn’t equalling two here. You looked around Joe’s flat and tried to think of his own expenses, and... what the fuck was he doing?!

“Joe,”

“You’re not going to be able to talk me out of this.”

“Joe.”

Joe ignored you and faked a yawn, sped it up along with stretched out arms above his head and quickly said, “So tired. Bed?” before getting up and leaving you on his sofa as he left the room.

“You’re insane if you think I’m just going to accept that!” you called after him and heard him laugh from down the hall.

“Did you not just say you were after a weird mid-term bonus?”

And you hated how that made you smile. Made you punch one of the cushions and sink your teeth into your bottom lip begrudgingly as you forgot to breathe a second.

Joe smiled to himself too as he turned on the lights in his bathroom. It felt like he was winning a contest - there was no contest, no one to fight, not really, but, he was definitely winning.

“You coming?”

Breathe.

Calm down.

You could pretend to fight him on this once more in the morning.

Crawling into bed with Joe had its own little routine which was different from the one at yours. Different order of things, because the lay out of the flat was different.

Bathroom first. You brushed teeth together, always had to stop Joe when he washed his face too aggressively and then used your own moisturiser on him. “Just for your dry patches,” you’d always say, but would end up swiping delicate fingertips all over anyway. There’d be a snarky comment, of you using too much, of him feeling too greasy, of how he was going to stick to his pillow all night now, and then you’d always kiss him to shut him up before moving on to do your own skincare routine.

When you’d get into bed, Joe would already be in there, giving his phone a last once-over before he’d scoot down and get comfortable.

This time, however, when you walked into his bedroom, the lights were already off, and it looked like Joe was already falling asleep.

This soft man.

So sleepy.

He was all messy curls and bare arms, duvet tucked under them, curled up right in the middle of his bed. You slid in and cuddled up right behind him, hips against his bum, chest to his back.

You were right.

Joe was already falling asleep.

You pushed a leg in between his for warmth and snuck an arm around his front.

“You’re crazy,” you whispered into the skin of his shoulder which prompted Joe to grab hold of your hand and pull it into his chest so you were hugging him properly. The big spoon to his small one. Then he just hummed as you pressed a small kiss to his warm skin there.

“So crazy.” you nuzzled into his pillow, your nose rubbing his back as you did, and you felt how he ducked his head down to press a small kiss to your fingers.

You fell asleep warm, comfortable, and smiling.

You woke up in the same way.

Just on your stomach now, and with Joe’s heavy limbs slung over your body. When you turned over, it woke Joe up, and for five blissful early morning minutes, you tried crawling into each other’s skin as best you could. Breathed each other’s breath and tasted each other’s skin. Stroked hands underneath clothes and had fingers crawling into underwear, just to touch and to hold.

When you quietly asked if Joe wanted coffee, he groaned and told you to shut up. He was able to feel you giggle to that, and he could cry with how happy he felt in that moment. Why would you have to go and ruin it by getting up to go and make coffee?

“Five more minutes.”

“Mmm... it’s never just five.”

Joe sighed, “Just five.” speech slurring with early morning drowsiness and then burrowed himself into you even more.

And fine.

Joe could have five more minutes.

But then they easily turned into twenty, because they always did, and you had to eventually bribe Joe with breakfast for him to let you go so you could sit up.

“If you take a slow shower, I’ll have it ready when you finish.” You looked over your shoulder where Joe, still with his eyes closed, smiled widely. His nose was slightly red from pressing it into your skin, and his bedhead made you have to suppress a giggle that you hid by leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead before you got out.

Joe barely even felt that little grain of bad in his chest when he thought of how much he loved you.

Because he did.

Joe fucking loved you.

There was going to be a moment soon where he was just going to have to say it. It was going to spill out of him in some other way if he wouldn’t simply use the words, he just knew it.

Joe loved you as he watched through squinty eyes how you reached for a pair of white socks of his to borrow.

Loved you as he watched you pull one of his old sweaters over your head before you walked out, bare legs still on show.

Loved you when he stepped into his living room after his shower to the smell of burnt toast and scrambled eggs and coffee.

Loved you as he watched you step onto a chair in the corner of his room, wet dishcloth in hand to remove the strings of dust you had scolded him over the night before.

Loved you as he felt what the sight of your stretched body, your bare tighs, and the little peep of your bum did to him inside of his boxers.

Loved you as he groaned and let his head fall onto the counter, having to breathe through it, because you were just cleaning his living room, and not giving him a sensual striptease act or whatever.

Loved you as you looked back over your shoulder, raising your eyebrows in surprised confusion before accusingly asking, “Really, Joe? Cleaning?”

Loved you as he stutteringly defended the blood rush down south by saying, “You have no idea what you look like right now.” into his elbow where he had to hide his face for a second.

Loved you, loved you.

He was hardly able to deny any of it.

And he didn’t feel that he had to, either.

Because, you were there. In his flat. In his clothes. Cleaning his dusty ceiling corners. And wasn’t that just something he wanted to tell the whole fucking world about?

That small little green grain of doubt and worry and negativity dried out and got no sunshine to really grow into anything. Thank fuck.

He got to ignore it for a while.

Forgot about it entirely, and pretended it wasn’t even there for a bit.

It was easy.

Joe loved you.

He knew he did.

Would tell you soon.

Didn’t know how.

Or where.

But he was going to say it.

He was going to use his words because he was just a normal guy who loved a normal girl and you weren’t being weirdly secretive about what you got up to in private. At least, not how you used to be, anyway.

Joe loved you.

You brought Joe flowers and cleaned his ceiling and wore his clothes and cooked his breakfast.

Joe loved you, even though your new flatmate Josh turned out to be impossibly good-looking in addition to being incredibly kind as well, so Joe didn’t even get to have a real reason to dislike him at all, which seemed unfair, but, all right.

Joe loved you, even when suddenly two shiny black acoustic guitars appeared on your living room wall, because Josh worked in music, and wasn’t that just so cool?

Joe loved you, even though his very first thought after that was, well I know how to play guitar too, don’t I?! which you had never even mentioned before.

Joe loved you, even when he walked into your flat one evening and interrupted a dinner you were having with Josh and one of your friends and, look, Josh cooked for us, and for the first time ever, he felt uninvited and intruding.

Joe loved you, even when your friend jokingly said, “You’re over here at lot for someone that moved out.” right to his face, to which you then heartily laughed, because she was only joking, Joe, and then you didn’t say anything about how you were together, but, you were together... weren’t you?

Joe loved you, even when he stuck to the bit and handed you his flat key like he always did, expecting to find it in his coat pocket later, but then ended up finding both his pockets empty when he went home the next morning, which, yea actually, that made sense, because Josh lived there now, and it was a little weird to have a key still, wasn’t it?

Joe loved you, even when you had told him to come over on Friday evening because you’d had a shit day at work, and for the first time ever, he had to ring the doorbell to get inside.

Joe loved you, even when Josh was the one that answered the door, and Josh almost didn’t let him in, telling him, “Oh, she’s fallen asleep on the sofa, mate.” to which Joe just smiled as he stepped around him, because what the fuck did Josh even know about falling asleep on the sofa in this flat?

Joe loved you, even when he found you asleep on the sofa, curled up under a blanket he’d never seen before, with an empty pizza box bar some crusts still on the coffee table, and you never ate a whole pizza yourself, so that was obviously shared with someone else.

Joe loved you.

He knew he did.

But there was a playstation besides the TV now, and a cool record player on the side, pile of vinyl next to it, and, God.

Joe fucking hated this.

Whatever was inside of Joe’s chest, that thing he didn’t even want in there, was growing.

Was getting fed without Joe even fully realising he was feeding it.

He hated those guitars. He hated that he no longer had a key. He hated that stupid blanket. And he hated that empty pizza box.

Still, he sat down beside you and placed your socked feet onto his lap. Watched the last scenes of whatever film you’d put on as he slowly kneaded a foot and let you sleep, and he tried his best to not get bitten. To not let it sink its teeth in. To not let it hurt.

It was silly.

Joe was being silly.

Rational thought saved him.

Rational thought told him he still loved you.

And he hoped rational thought was going to be enough.

---

The Taglisted

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taglist currently full, sorry

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