Getting Ahold Of A Money Tree Doesn't Mean That You Change. (Eddie Munson X Reader)

There are so many characters that you can imagine this with. So many! My first thought was Steve and then it went to Eddie after 2/3 of this post

Can I Try Something?

Warnings: 18+ explicit content. Minors DNI.

Literally no plot . Unprotected PinV (wrap it). Face slapping. Biting. Established relationship. Very long and for what?

Summary: He wants to try something a bit newer for you both. You’re more than happy to partake.

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There’s a limbo period in a blossoming relationship. That moment between the milestones that have now been reached, and knowing everything about each other. You were in that phase. That phase where you love to kiss and do frequently, but you’ve only just discovered that sucking his bottom lip into your mouth makes his eyes roll back in his head. That phase where he loves to trail his lips down your neck, but has yet to find that spot that turns your legs to jelly - it lurks in the shadows, waiting for the skim of his lips to shine their torch there. You’re figuring things out about each other all the time, together, and you both fucking love it.

There’s a newness to you two still. It’s beautifully exciting, but can sometimes leave space for uncertainty and…hesitation. You can and do communicate well, and you’re always sure to make each other feel comfortable and safe - but there’s that small whisper in the background that breathes life into the flame that is nervousness.

It’s ironic really. He could be inside of you, and you’d hesitate on whether to pull his hair. Where’s the logic? He could be taking you from behind, as deep as he could go, and he’d hold himself back from landing a smack to your ass. What if you didn’t like it? (You did, he realised one day after his brain lost the race against his body. He’d struck you like it was a reflex, gripping the flesh afterwards soothingly, apology ready on his tongue - but you’d mewled and your elbows had buckled beneath you so you were face down in his pillows, back arched and clenching around him. He’d never held back on that again.)

It was never awkward, though, even when what should be awkward moments happened. He’d shown you that sex could be giggly, relaxed, even playful - you could talk through it if you needed. It wasn’t as performative as you’d once believed, and that, you learned, was where that line of true intimacy and vulnerability was drawn. You both basked in it. He wanted to see you as much as you did him; every reaction, every noise, every pulse, every twitch. You wanted to learn each other.

He was fucking into you at a slow but intense pace, hips meeting yours and rolling. One hand was intertwined with yours, forearm holding him up, and the other was cupping your breast, squeezing and brushing his thumb over your pebbled nipple. Your free hand roamed his back and up into his hair to tug (you’d found that he loved that as much as you loved a spank after you’d one day thrown caution to the wind and tried it. He’d groaned into your mouth and it had sent your body tingling). You were teetering more on the line of making love this evening, you thought. It was passionate and overwhelming in the best way.

You were breathing each other’s air. His mouth was hung open and ghosted over yours that mirrored his, relieved sighs and needy gasps ping ponging between you. Your bodies slid over each other’s, skin slick with sweat so that you couldn’t tell who’s was who’s. Your legs were hitched around his hips, ankles hooking into the meat of his ass to keep him pulled to you. His hand that was caressing your chest slid down your body to your thigh, gripping to move it higher up his waist and digging his nails into the flesh. His pace quickened slightly as he attached his damp forehead to yours, a low groan rumbling from his chest.

“Look at me” he mumbled against you, “let me see you, c’mon” and your hand was squeezed harder in his. You hadn’t realised your eyes had closed, and you shot them open embarrassingly quick at his request. He’d noticed this before, how you’d follow instructions - do what he asked. Sometimes, he was sure he could ask you to do just about anything for him, and he wondered what desire he’d have that you wouldn’t fulfil.

“Hi” he chuckled, chest swelling when he found your fucked out eyes drinking him in.

“Hi” you breathe out and you’re smiling, all hazy and blissed out. He hums and nuzzles his nose with yours. God, he was so far gone with you. Nuzzling noses? Not in a million years did he think he’d be doing that with anyone. But now he had to. He had these strange pulls to show you affection in so many different ways in a day. Whether that was a slap to your ass or a nuzzle of your noses, an engulfing hug or a stroke to your hair; it was as though his feelings bubbled too much in the pot, spilling over and bleeding into any physical touch that the moment would allow. He had days where he wanted to gently litter you in kisses, and days where he wanted to absolutely ruin you - but it all brewed from the same place.

He watches as your eyes lull with every thrust he gives you, mewls leaving you as you get close. You’re starting to pulse around him, the backs of his hand and neck now are decorated with half crescent moons where your nails are starting to dig into his skin, legs tightening further around him to give you leverage as you move with him, searching for your orgasm. That’s his cue, his fingers know it before he does as they leave your thigh to skim across your stomach and descend, finally swirling circles into your clit. Your wetness makes his pace easy, moving quickly and toying with you just right. You clench. He grits his teeth. You’re getting closer.

“Ohh…yeah? I can feel that, baby. Good girl” he groans out, nosing at your cheek and pressing a kiss there. Your eyes squeeze shut and you let out a gasp, arm coming to tighten around his shoulders to keep him to you. But he’s retreating slightly. Pace slowing.

“Noo, no. Look at me. I’ve asked you once now, don’t make me ask again” he says, softly, but there’s an edge to it. He wants to keep the intensity of this. Your eyes drag open, half lidded and your back arches as you let out a whine. His head tilts. You liked that: the warning. He liked it too. He wonders how far to go with it…and there it is, that hesitation. He distracts himself instead by bringing the fingers that were in your folds to his mouth and sucking them clean.

“Please, faster. Please. I’m so close” you beg, nails raking his shoulders and head thrown back into the pillows. He braces himself with his newly free hand, which is wet with his spit but he doesn’t care. The angle he shifts to makes the muscles in his back ripple and you can feel it beneath your fingertips as he follows you down to connect your lips, and your mouths greedily mesh together.

It’s all tongues and ragged breathing, messy and broken with moans and he’s fucking into you harder. His hand detangles from yours only to re-tangle into your hair, pulling to position your head where he wants you. You suck his lip into your mouth (as you now know he loves) and his hips stutter, fingers tightening in your locks. He’s pulling your head back down so the crown of your skull is almost flat to the pillow, arching your neck back and his eyes blow at the sight.

He dips his head and licks a flat, long stripe up the centre of your throat that he keeps bared for him, up over your chin and back to your lips. Again. Again. And again. He’s like a starving man, panting as he laps up your skin. He pulls back to blow on the saliva mapped area and you shudder at the cooling sensation it gives you on your hot skin, eyes fluttering shut once again. A harsh thrust causes them to fly open.

“You’re testing me, sweetheart” he raises his eyebrows at you, gaze hardening and your eyes widen - cunt tightening.

“‘M sorry. Just feels good” you mumble, your lust filled eyes are seemingly hypnotised by his lips. He pecks yours lazily. Absentmindedly. He’s deep in thought.

“Yeah? Just feels too good?” His forehead connects with yours and you feel your face flush. There’s a pause. “Can I try something?”

Your eyes reconnect with his and your gaze is questioning. His are warm, but alive. He’s grinding softly into you, small movements, keeping your body simmering. You breathe out a shaky, “what?”

“If you keep shutting those pretty eyes away from me, you’ll have a consequence” he states, voice low. He drops another soft peck to your lips and then another two atop of your cheeks under your lower lash line, as if underlining his rule.

Consequence. It’s something you’ve both mentioned briefly before, but you’ve never delved. Like other things discussed, there was a waiting game on the moment to introduce it. Lots of things left to experiment with, but wanting to find that right time to try it that fit the moment.

You’d been having sex together for a small while now, and other things that come with learning a new body and how it ticked distracted you both. The pair of you would lose yourselves in each other, and there were worse problems to have, you figure. But this? This was one of those times, one of those moments to try something new - the atmosphere you had both created would welcome what he wanted to test. It was ricocheting around his brain and he was finally biting the bullet. “If you don’t like it, even a little bit, tell me straight away and we’ll never try it again. Hmm?”

He studies your face as you nod up at him, you’re gnawing your bottom lip and gazing at him with a look that makes him grip the sheets by your head. It’s adoring and laced with excitement. He senses no apprehension, but he’s still needing to check that you’re sure, his eyes flitting between yours carefully.

“Yeah?” He’s asking. He wants to hear you vocalise it.

“Yes please” you nearly rush out the whisper. Please. Goddamit. You don’t even realise what you’ve just done to him as you strain your neck upwards for another kiss. This one is sloppy, deep and desperate: you’re hurrying him up.

Your legs twitch as you try not to shift your hips up into him, the word consequence awakening a reluctance and you find yourself wanting to…please him? Be good for him? Do as he asks? Something. It hazes your mind. He hasn’t asked you to move - but he’s still nudging shallow, slow circles of his hips into you and it’s not enough now.

He’s on the same wavelength, luckily. The hardly there movements are nice, but he needs more. Once he’s satisfied that you’re sure, positive that he has your permission, he’s pulling out of you and he feels the drag of your walls against his cock, hugging him tightly, almost protesting the idea of him leaving - and then he’s snapping his hips forward, thrusting sharply back into you. So hard it moves you even further up the bed. Your hand shoots up above your head to brace yourself against the headboard and you let out a cry.

“Yeah, right there baby - oh fuck - please, please” you strain out to him, your fingers gripping to the wood of the board behind you as he rails you. Your head lolls to the side, eyes flickering up to the ceiling as they roll back into your skull. That’s not good enough for him.

“Look” thrust. “At” thrust. “Me” thrust.

You’re whimpering, eyes locking onto his as he plants both of his hands on either side of your head and rises above you slightly to help him drive into you. The pace is relentless, but now and again he’s stilling at the hilt and grinding his hips against you, his pubic bone and thatch of hair hitting your clit and stimulating you just right.

Practically purring, you’re gripping onto his forearms now, clawing at them as your thoughts are just him him him. The sounds of your wetness squelching as he gyrates, followed by the sound of slapping skin as he returns to pounding into you would have you embarrassed if it wasn’t so intoxicating. If it wasn’t him doing this to you. You cry out again as he hits that spot that makes your toes curl, and he can feel your whole body convulse.

“There we go” He hisses out as your back arches. He can feel your swollen spot against his tip and he hammers it, jaw clenching as he watches you writhe beneath him. You’d made the decision together only recently to really feel him, condoms discarded, and once he’d felt you without a barrier he was hooked. The feeling of your ridges grazing along his cock, your wet warmth gripping him oh so snugly; it was unlike anything else for him. For you, feeling him stretch you out and twitch inside you as he’d come deeply and paint your walls - it was mind consuming. It was intimacy.

“Good girl” he whispers, the back of his hand breezing from your temple to your cheek. You hold his wrist and lean into his touch. It’s so gentle, a great contrast to the way he’s fucking into you. His chest heaves as he gazes down at you, eyes roaming your features, watching you fall apart while he’s trying his best not to; his arms are flexing and shoulder blades rippling as he tries to hold off his orgasm. He could honestly blow at any minute with the sight of you laying out beneath him like this.

You look fucked as he feels. Your eyes are glassy and hair is splayed in wild disarray around you, lips swollen and hanging agape, skin sheening with sweat. He’s suddenly leaning down to bite your lip as though he can’t help himself, rising back upwards again and taking it with him as far as it will stretch before letting it snap back. He’s watching. Waiting. Like a hawk. He knows it’s going to happen soon, your sweet moans becoming breathy. You’re lost in it - in him. He hums.

And it happens. Your eyes flutter and they’re closing. He rearranges himself so that his weight is held by just one arm now and his body feels electric. He’s nervous, but also so fucking excited.

His hand cracks against your cheek.

Your head snaps to the side, the other side of your face connecting with the pillow below. A strangled gasp leaves you after a moment, the sting tingling across your cheek and your mouth opening in shock. It spreads through your body, heat causing the coil to tighten in your stomach and travel down to your cunt. You’re clamping around him.

“Hey, you with me?” His palm delicately smooths over your buzzing cheek, thumb swiping back and forth, his lips coming to pepper light kisses there, before his fingers hook under your chin to gently coax your face to him, “babe?”

Your eyes are wild when they connect with his, dark. Your breathing is deep, cunt still throbbingly encasing his cock. He’s confused; your body’s reaction is conflicting with your lack of response. He didn’t do it as hard as he could’ve, but it was enough to move your face and he suddenly fears he’s gone too far. Panic starts to set in, and he’s moving to pull out.

You stop him.

Your hands hook around his shoulders before he can leave you empty, and one leg applies pressure to his ribs to tip him over to the side so he’s lying next to you. Facing you. His eyes are searching. You readjust so he fills you completely again, coming forward to swipe your nose against his and settle your foreheads together, copying his actions from before and his body relaxes. You begin to rock against him almost desperately, grinding down and whimpering. One of his arms comes around your back, splaying across your rib cage, and the other continues it’s soothing of your cheek. Your hands are in his hair, tugging furiously.

“Do it again” you pant out against his lips and god he nearly chokes on his own moans. His mouth spreads into a playful smile. Almost a proud one - a smug one.

“Aren’t you gonna say please?” He asks, tilting his head at you almost condescendingly. Cocky bastard. You whine frustratedly, pulling him forward by his hair to lap into his mouth but he pulls away, tongue in cheek. “Guess not” he tuts.

You don’t have long to miss his contact. His palm is smacking across your cheek again, harder, and he reels when you audibly sigh against his mouth before smashing your lips against his again. His tongue finds yours and you’re moving faster against him. His fingers that were splayed across your ribs migrate to trace down your spine, featherlight. Further down. Lower. There. He’s kneading the flesh of your ass, grabbing onto it as he uses it to help you slide up and down him. Your sweet spot being abused.

You’re needy for each other now; the way you’re moving against each other is almost animalistic. One of your hands comes to roughly take his jaw, dragging his face to angle him more to you and your fingers bite into his skin - he growls into your mouth. You’re practically swallowing him down.

He smacks you again, his fingers harshly gripping at your jaw in retaliation to your action to mirror you, but it aids in bringing you back from the pillow you’d been slapped into and he gifts you a hot kiss, only to land another palm to your face again and repeat. Again. And again. And another.

This time when you’re ragged back to him, he mouths his kisses to your blushed cheek, intending it to be soothing but he’s so turned on that they’re messy and sloppy and he can’t help it. He wants to fucking devour you, and before he knows it the flat of his tongue licks across your face.

Your movements against him become laboured, and as lost in this as he is he pulls back to take you in and to check on you. Your brain yells ‘are your eyes open?’ so quickly when you feel him shift and his gaze on you, like following his instructions is the only thing that matters. You bat your lashes at him as though to make a point.

“Fuck, sweetheart” he groans as he sees you, you’re glowing with sweat and your cheek is red - your lips are painted the same and your eyes are glossy. You look beautifully fucked out, “you like that, yeah?” He coos, letting his thumb tack at your lower lip, smushing it around. You let out a desperate hum, nodding, but your eyes are pooled with desire. He takes over now, fucking up into you. Pressing his cock as deep as he can inside you, hand pushing against your ass and squeezing harder still to help him reach further into you.

One more, he decides.

He delivers his final sharp slap, and it’s the hardest yet. He lets his thumb swipe across the ever more reddening, wet area lovingly before that hand is moving down, down, down. Over your breasts, over your stomach, dipping briefly over your bellybutton towards your cunt. It’s the same wispy line as the one down your spine moments ago, bookending your body.

You choke on a gasp as his fingers find your clit. He feels so close to you. You can feel his heavy breaths fanning over the sting in your cheek where his lips rest and the dig of his nails in the flesh of your behind. Your bodies are rutting together greedily, his cock twitching and gliding against your walls and his fingers are working you, rubbing fast and flicking your clit in the way he knows you love.

It’s all too much - you’re done for. Your movements still, your body tensing and locking around him, mouth hung open in a soundless cry. You come apart while clinging to him like he’s your lifeline; like he’s your saviour when he’s actually your damnation.

“Fuck, good fucking girl - shit-” he’s cursing and groaning as he’s pummelling into you, balls slapping against your ass with every stroke. Your body has now gone limp, and he hooks his arm under your knee, pulling it up to spread your legs further open for him to continue to pound into you. The overstimulation has you spasming.

You whisper into his ear the way you know he loves. Tongue laving over the lobe and suckling at it after each sentiment leaves you.

“C’mon, you’re so close. Let me feel you”

“Please, let me have it”

“Use me how you need”

He’s tightening his hand around your knee, moving his other arm up to tighten around your body. His fingers feel bruising around your back, like he’s crushing you. You don’t care. Not one fucking bit. His head buries into your neck and he’s nuzzling into it. It’s sticky and hot as he sucks the skin there into his mouth, and then his teeth are sinking into the flesh, the groans coming from him being muffled.

“I’m yours to use”

“Please. Ruin me”

His hips stutter. Body shakes. Cock twitches and suddenly…warmth. He comes inside of you with a strangled noise that makes your stomach jolt, it vibrates against your skin as his teeth bite down harder. Your let your fingers rub encouragingly against his scalp, biting back the pained gasp that almost escapes you and squeezing your eyes shut. It hurts, but god it’s so good.

His hips slow as he finishes riding out his orgasm, breath huffing against the skin of your neck and he plants wet kisses across the abused skin there, feeling the imprints of his teeth. He brushes his lips across your shoulder and back into your neck in a cycle. Time feels like it stands still around you, and for this moment, it’s just the two of you. The softness of his lips make your legs weaker than they already are, and you trace your hands all over him. His back, shoulders, arms, cart your fingers through his hair. Everywhere. You plant loving kisses into the top of his head. God you loved him, and that bubble of emotion emits through your arms, wrapping him up as tight as they can in your feeble state.

A final exhale leaves him before he’s pulling his softening cock from you gently and rolling onto his back, pulling you along and letting your leg drop around him. Your hands come to rest on his chest alongside your head and you can hear the thump thump thump of his heart that’s trying to catch back up with itself. You rise and fall with his breath and he’s tracing the backs of your arms and nosing your hair. It’s comfortably silent for a while. You’re both just lying there with each other, enjoying the feeling of soft touches and gentle traces, enjoying the sound of each others breathing - just enjoying each other.

“I love you” he mutters into your hair, tightening his hold on you and smushing his cheek to the top of your head.

“Mmm, I love you too” you hum back as you feel him rock you slightly. Your chest feels as though it could burst.

His fingers swipe under your chin and he tugs gently to bring your gaze to him. He cocks his head, eyes flitting down to your neck, and he winces slightly, tutting and whispering a ‘sorry baby’ out at what you knew was a mark there. Correction: a bite welt. (You didn’t mind at all, it was pretty light to what it felt like at the time and would be healed in a day or two at most. In fact, you liked the mark. You did decide, however, to request that they were kept below the collarbones, joking that he’s lucky it’s jumper season)

His eyes then lingered briefly on your cheek, but he moved on quickly and you rightly assumed that there was no handprint plastered to your face. It wasn’t even that red anymore. More like a pink, as though you’d run for a while or been out too long in the frost. Nevertheless, he checked in like he always did after newer activities. Even after more familiar ones he would. “You good?”

“Oh, I’m good” you grin up at him, leaning your chin on the backs of your hands on his chest. “You good? What brought that on?”

“Just something I thought we could try. ‘M glad we did” he chuckles, lolling his head to the side, “but, did you like it? Was it ok?”

“That” you drop a kiss to his chest, “was definitely ok. Loved it. Did you like it?”

“Fucking loved it, sweetheart. Who knew you liked being slapped around a bit” he cooed, teasing, a finger bopping your nose softly before his thumb once again swiped over the cheek he’d hit. You smiled and let out a laugh, rolling your eyes and scrunching your face in soft coyness momentarily before reaching for a kiss.

A sudden pang of guilt flooded him. He did love it - slapping you. Did you think he loved it in general? He would never lay a hand on you in any other scenario, ever, so it was confusing. You were coming back in for another kiss, but he paused before you could feel his mouth. His stare hardening on you. You go to say something, eyeing him quizzically at the shift in demeanour, but he beats you to it.

“You know I’d never do that outside of sex, right?” He asks you, his tone deadly serious. Your brows furrow.

“What? Of course? I know you’d never hurt me. I’ve literally never worried about it”

“Ok. Good. That’s good - just had to check” he hugs you closer, finally letting his lips mould to yours in a sweet kiss. A slow kiss. Like you have all the time in the world. You shuffle up him further and your hands now toy with the end of his curls when he speaks.

“So…can we do it again? Like, only if you want. Not all the time, but when we have those more…y’know…like…more intense times?” he sounds shy, and you giggle into him.

You thought back to when he asked you if he could try something. You hadn’t even dug to see what exactly it was - you hadn’t felt that you needed to. Your arms were wide open with him, fully trusting that he’d never push the boundaries that he knew you had. That you’d both discussed. And vice versa. If either of you say stop, everything would stop instantly. No questions asked. And there was no doubt there.

The trust you were building bled into all aspects of your relationship with him. You’d given him everything completely, as he had you, and you fucking loved it. A part of you was afraid at the trust you had in him - he could ask you to jump off a cliff and you’d have every faith there’d be a net to catch you. Scary, really. Or it would be, if he didn’t share that same trust in you.

“We can definitely do that again” you purr, fingers still idly twisting his curls. You pull them ever so slightly as you suggest, “choking next?”

“Me or you?” he winks, smirking, and you suck in a breath before giggling again. New images of his hands wrapped around your throat while yours are also wrapped around his. You swallow.

God, that sweet limbo spot of discovery had you both on cloud nine.

Why can I see some of the Stray Kids members wearing this?

Guy just walked in with a shirt that said “I don’t question my wife’s choices because I’m one of them” and frankly I’m obsessed

10 days. There are only 10 days until my birthday. I have been thinking of posting my first fic either on my birthday or the 31st. I hope you will like it

I don't think there is anyone that dosen't love our Joseph Quinn!

Howard Stern talking with Lars from Metallica about Joseph’s performance 💕🎸⚡️🦇🎵

I have COMPLETELY forgotten to update you! It's 22 days until my birthday!

😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣🤣

Joe Keery is written by women, in general. Joseph Quinn is written by his mother, specifically.

Hello? I need an ambulance, I'm dying. What's the cause? Steve Harrington with a beard.

Here is some more Bearded!Steve before I go to sleep.

Please give credit if you use or repost

It's 21 days until my birthday!

Joseph Quinn’s Other Characters Fics (Series/One-Shots) - I

I made a list of currently reading and recommended fics for Joseph Quinn’s other characters here on Tumblr. All were beautifully written by amazing writers. These writers are incredible and full of brilliant ideas, so please visit their blogs and check all of their works. Happy reading! Don’t forget to comment and reblog their works. You may also reblog this list to share with everyone/blog mutuals. Thank you! (For 18+, MDNI)

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