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total-dxmure · 7 months

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ೃ࿔ CHERRY FLAVORED →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER ONE

pairing: mega fan!ellie williams x rock star!reader

summary: your guitarist was carted off to rehab after just one month into your recent tour. fuck. there’s only one thing you can do, and that’s hire a replacement. your band thinks it’s going to be nearly impossible to find someone that is on the same level of talent as your “beloved” guitarist. you don’t have high hopes that anyone can nail the songs quite like he did either, if you’re being brutally honest. enter ellie- she’s a mega fan. the girl knows every lyric and note like the back of her hand. . . and everything about you, which isn’t creepy at all. her apparent obsession with you is something that you and your tour manager can overlook if it means carrying on with the rest of the tour. forced proximity with a stalker-level fan . . . what’s the worst thing that could happen?

warnings: smut in next chapter, talk of substance abuse, the reader is a tease and a bit of a bitch but it’s hot i promise, ellie is obsessed with reader to an unhealthy degree.

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

It was the kind of love that tortured poets mused over. Ribs straining against a heavy heart.

Ellie had deluded herself, as any love drunk person does, that she wouldn’t dissolve into a puddle on the floor if she were to meet you. She could keep her cool- downplay the crushing significance you held in her life. Your voice was constantly ringing in her ears. She could see your face in perfect clarity any time she closed her eyes. Pictures like snapshots played out behind her eyelids, and yet you always felt a million miles away for her. You were a perfect performer, situated on your sky-high pedestal, always out of her puny reach.

Because Ellie, as much as she despised this fact and dreamed of greatness, was a nobody. She grew up in a tiny town of no noteworthiness, her adolescent years spent dreaming about the planets and playing guitar with Joel. By all accounts Ellie was normal, while you were certainly not. Still, she liked to tell herself that she’d somehow manage to make herself worthy of your affections if she were ever to be blessed with them.

Finding herself in a situation like this seemed like an impossibility. She was partially convinced that she was daydreaming, having concocted some elaborate fantasy just to feed the insatiable ache. She was starved for you with no way to feed herself.

All it had taken was a single audition tape. One. Single. Tape. Ellie was staring, wide eyed, at Gene fuckin’ Murray.

The blood rushed from her head, hands breaking out instantaneously into a clammy sweat. She couldn’t think, couldn’t function at the realization that she was staring at one of the people that she had worshiped for years. Gene’s talent had been praised by the likes of Lars Ulrich and Danny Carey. He wasn’t popular just for his looks but for his undeniable talent.

And he was staring straight at Ellie, arms crossed over his toned chest as he waited expectantly. She felt like an idiot. Should she be playing? If so, what did they want her to play? Surely one of their songs. She’d glossed past the fact that she was a megafan, instead making it sound like she was just looking for a successful band to join. She was talented. No, Ellie was really talented.

She wasn’t just a technical player, but excelled at making her own rules. She enjoyed the creative freedom that playing the guitar granted, and felt as though the world needed more Jimi’s and Van Halen’s. Ellie excelled at thinking outside of the box.

She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her.

So she took a deep breath and tried to steady her heart, once again stepping up to the mic. If there was one thing that all of your bandmates had in common, it was the attitude. She’d watched hundreds of interviews, had studied all of their movements and mannerisms. . .she understood you down to a science.

“So do you want me to play or what?” Ellie spoke into the mic, gripping the neck of the guitar in the hopes that it might act as an anchor. She was scared that she might float away.

The manager’s eyebrows twitched at her sudden change in attitude but he didn’t say anything, merely turned to look at Gene. For a second everyone just stared at her, like a bug under a microscope. After what felt like five minutes but was really just five seconds, Gene broke out into a grin, motioning to her with a flick of his wrist. He wasn’t confident in her, Ellie could tell.

She had a sweet face, she knew that. Big green eyes and freckles- she was unsuspecting. People were usually shocked to find out that she had wrestled competitively in high school and had no problem putting a man three times her size on his ass. People expected very little from her, and perhaps that was part of Ellie’s real charm.

“What song?” She was staring at Gene now, gripping her guitar pick between two sweat-slick fingers.

“What ‘bout ‘Sometime Soon’? Know that one?” His tone was teasing. Condescending.

The song was fast paced. It was supposed to be played loud and hard- one of your angrier songs. Ellie knew that you had been the one to write this one, meaning it was one of her favorites. The notes weren’t beginner friendly, but it wasn’t exactly hard for her.

It was more style, less technical ability- which meant that Ellie would have no problem making this song her bitch.

It was obvious that Gene was the one meant to judge her. The manager was just that- a manager. They needed an actual musician to listen in. So she took a deep breath and readied herself. . .

and then the sound of your singing voice blasted into the booth. Drums, bass- she was meant to play with you.

She almost missed her que, eyes widening in nervousness. She thought that she’d be playing all by her lonesome. She thought wrong it would seem. They’d started her off right in the middle of the song. Probably to throw her off. She jumped in, fingers sliding along the frets to shape out the correct notes. She tucked her guitar pick against the palm of her hand with her thumb, using the pads of her fingers to tap the strings. Faster. Faster. Faster. She didn’t look up from her guitar to look at the men’s reactions to her playing. Instead she just pretended she was standing in the living room of her apartment, hellbent on getting another noise complaint from the bitchy nextdoor neighbor.

Her calloused fingers pinched the strings, satisfied with the way the guitar whined over the speakers. The guitar solo in this song was meant to be impressive- and it was, she had to give it to Leon. A lot of it was just bullshitting though. He’d admitted that he came up with the solo in the actual sound booth off of the top of his head while they were recording the song.

The man was a god. He deserved “guitarist of the year” two years in a row. Ellie had the Los Angeles native beat though. Where he had grown up in the constant presence of “the greats”, Ellie had grown up in a constant state of boredom. She’d been playing the guitar since she was fourteen. Every day she’d sit down for hours and practice until her fingers bled. . . literally. She had thousands of hours on Leon, and she knew that with certainty.

Ellie moved the guitar up and down gently with her fret hand, prolonging the last note so that it cried the way she wanted it to. The muscles in her arms were sore from how hard she had been tensing during the song. She’d been a lot more mechanical about it than she was used to, but she had something to prove.

After a second she looked up from her guitar to gauge everyone’s reactions. The manager had dropped his cold and indifferent demeanor, instead flashing her a small smile. It bolstered her, gave her the strength to turn and look at Gene.

He still had his arms crossed over his chest, and for a second Ellie was sure that he would tell her that she sucked. She widened her stance, shuffling her feet so that she was in a more defensive position. His heated gaze made her feel as though she needed to protect herself from whatever mental anguish he was about to put her through.

“I thought she was kick ass,” Gene finally spoke up, giving Ellie a small thumbs up. Her face lit up into a wide smile before she could school her reaction into one of indifference. “What do you think? You’re the one that calls all the shots.” He spoke behind him, looking down at someone that had been hidden on the couch all along.

Ellie squinted her eyes, taking a step closer to the glass to see if there was another businessman she’d somehow overlooked.

She saw your hair before she saw anything else. It was freshly dyed, different than the last she’d seen you in all of the recent tabloid photos. You were clad in leather- pants so tight that they looked like a second skin. Your top was just as restrictive, breasts spilling out from the top, midriff revealed to show off the small silver piercing you had decorating your belly button.

You were Hecate in the flesh- dark, sinister, mysterious and capable of anything. Ellie didn’t think that it would be possible, but you were even prettier in person. The sight of you sent a shock through her system, and for a second she felt her knees quiver, as if she could no longer hold up the weight of her own body. Her insides turned to mush; white, hot mush.

The Stendhal syndrome: Ellie had been brought to the very precipice of existence by sight alone. She was so overcome by your mere existence that she felt her eyes begin to well up with tears. Body trembling, eyes locked on to your face and nothing else- it felt like she might faint. She remembered reading about the syndrome once before in an art history class she took in college.

“Absorbed in the contemplation of sublime beauty. . . I reached the point where one encounters celestial sensations.”

The urge to flee was just as great as the urge to get her hands on you was. She was thankful for the wide stance she was currently in, because if her legs had been any closer together then she was positive she would have lost her balance and fallen over.

You were right there in front of her. You’d been right in front of her the entire time, she’d just been so focused on Gene that she hadn’t even seen you in her panic. She stumbled forward, her sneakered foot catching the jack for the amp. She slapped her hands over her ears as a blood curdling screech began blaring over the speakers.

Ellie could have died. In fact. . . she just might. She dropped her guitar roughly on the ground as she raced over towards the amp, fingers shaking as she turned the knob to the volume.

The booth, once again, was silent. Silent enough to hear a pin drop. Slowly she turned, grimacing when she noticed the looks on everyone’s faces. She’d embarrassed herself and ruined her chance. Even worse was the fact that she’d humiliated herself in front of you.

She had somehow deluded herself into believing that the two of you were soulmates over the years. She’d compared your birth charts, life numbers- had taken multiple celebrity compatibility tests. All signs pointed to a resounding yes. The two of you were star crossed lovers, cursed to never know one another. She had told herself that if she were ever to bump into you in person that she’d be able to keep her cool. Ellie was certain that she could pretend that she didn’t know who you are- could downplay the significance that you held

Her ignorance was laughable. She’d been so overcome by your mere presence that she’d stumbled on air while standing completely still. You were standing up straight now, and even from her spot behind the thick glass she could tell how much taller you were than her. You had to be wearing heels or platforms, because according to Google you were-

“You know how many auditions we’ve listened to today?” You had grappled the mic from the tech and were now hunched over his soundboard, the lights from all of the buttons and knobs casting strange, beautiful shadows over your face. Your eyeliner was dark and smoked out around your eyes, and in that moment Ellie wondered if you were an angel or a demon. “Twelve. Twelve fuckin’ people have walked into that booth today. Every single one of them has been absolute shit. So bad, in fact, that I’ve wanted to blow my fuckin’ brains out in this buildings tiny, piss-stained bathroom.”

Ellie blanched, lips losing their pink color as the blood drained from her face. She was about to pass out. Her vision was already starting to tunnel. She grabbed onto one of the microphone stands to hold herself up, trying to keep her expression hard and unreadable. People often told her that she had “dead eyes”, and she could only pray that her face wasn’t giving her crushing grief away. It felt like someone had just died; like she had just died. Actually, she would have rather you just go ahead and stab her then tell her she sucked. You were her idol, her dream girl, her everything.

And you were telling her that you’d rather blow your fucking brains out then listen to her play. How was she supposed to recover from this? She’d heard the saying “don’t meet your heroes” a thousand times, but this? She’d rather you just be a bitch to her. Actually, Ellie would probably like that. This was the worst thing she could have ever heard. Her nose twitched as tears began pooling in her eyes. She blinked a few times, praying that you couldn’t tell in the nearly pitch black room you were standing in.

“But this?” You turned towards your manager and pointed passionately at Ellie. “This is music.”

Breath left her lungs in a loud, audible whooshing sound, like a balloon deflating. Her shoulders relaxed, the hand that was white knuckling the mic stand falling limp at her side. No, you didn’t hate her. You liked her.

You liked her.

Everyone had their vices. Leon’s had, apparently, been copious amounts of prescription drugs- often consumed simultaneously. You were used to getting what you wanted. You drank whenever you wanted to, fucked just about anyone that peaked your interest and got away with your usual rotten antics and bitchy behavior. You lived the lifestyle that you’d always dreamt of, even when you were a little kid.

You enjoyed putting on shows. You were flamboyant, loud, and weren’t afraid of expressing yourself. Teachers often described you as a “free thinker” back in your elementary school days. You dressed yourself for school each morning, each outfit louder and more daring than the next. You were an artist, and like most artists you had some inner demons that you fought against. You still fought tooth and nail, even to this day.

Finally though, after what felt like a thousand years of waiting and biding your time, you had the life you had always yearned for.

You sold out arenas, appeared on the front page of just about every magazine imaginable, and had celebrities clamoring over themselves to be your “best friend” of the week. Things were good.

But also a bit empty.

The friends that you’d made in your youth only used your name for bragging rights. Your parents had stopped showing up to concerts years ago, instead choosing to listen about your successes through their shitty television shows. Life felt a bit hollow.

Exciting. . . just different than you had always been used to.

“Come play with us.” One of the women whined from her spot on your plush hotel mattress. The bombshell blonde was already stripped down to her underwear, her eyes glazed over from whatever overpriced alcohol she’d already taken from the suite's bar, at your expense no doubt.

Your manager was used to the up-charges on the company card. He would probably be relieved in the morning when he found out that you didn’t break anything. There was still time for that, of course. It was only one in the morning, which meant you had nine more hours to get fucked up and wreck the cushy room.

“I’m not feeling up to it right now.” You said simply, already disinterested in the two women you had invited to bed with you tonight. You were holding a beer bottle loosely between two of your fingers, swishing the remainder of the room temperature alcohol absentmindedly.

You weren’t much of an “observer” when it came to sex, more of a very active participant. Still, all you could do was sit back in one of the comfortable lounge chairs, muscles tense after a long show. You weren’t exactly sure why you’d invited the women back to the hotel. They were both attractive and had come onto you at the same time. It was obvious what they had been insinuating, and who were you to deny two beautiful women? The first thing that had popped into your head being “a threesome might make me happy”.

Except now you were bored out of your skull and would much rather be sleeping right now than watch two ditzy girls clumsily fondle each other’s fake breasts.

“Please? I want you to fuck me so bad-” There was a knock at the door, causing both girls to go silent for a second.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, exhaustion threatening to swallow you up whole. If it was your manager here to yell at you for “accidentally” breaking an amp at tonight's show you were going to scream. It was too late for that bullshit. Still, you saw this excuse as a blessing.

“Hear that, ladies? Looks like we’ve gotta pack it up. Thanks for showing me a good time.” You stood up from the seat with a small groan, placing your beer bottle onto the counter clumsily. The glass clattered, almost spilling all over the shag carpet.

The two girls groaned, obviously frustrated that they hadn’t successfully gotten you into bed with them. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you lately. If this had happened a few months ago then. . . well, you would have fucked them- no questions asked. Were you maturing out of your “wild and crazy” phase? No, you didn’t think so.

You bent down, scooping up a discarded bra so that you could toss it onto the bed. Fabric rustled behind you as they began to quickly sort themselves out, hoping to beat you to the door.

“Who is it?” You called out in a sing-song voice, deciding that if your manager was already angry enough to show up in front of your door at one in the morning then you might as well have a little fun with it.

There was no reply on the other side of the door, causing you to scoff. He was giving you the silent treatment. You reached out for the door handle, only to have your shirt yanked on by one of the women. You could hear the seams ripping against the weight of her, her eyes wide with desperation.

“Please let me show you a good time. I promise I’m good- I swear.” There was a fear of rejection there, you could tell.

You felt a bit guilty and were quick to lean in to press a kiss on her cheek. “Baby, you’re gorgeous. I’m sure you would have been wonderful- but I’m tired. That’s all, okay? It’s nothing personal.”

And with that you opened the door. The air from the hallway was brisk, causing goosebumps to instantly break out on your bare arms and legs. You were expecting the balding, bespectacled Barry to be standing on the other side of the door, all in a huff about “expenses” and “damages to the venue”. Blah, blah, blah.

Instead it was Ellie. A very broken looking Ellie.

The girls were quick to straighten out their outfits, their attention now turned towards the guitarist. Groupies like this didn’t care who they slept with, just so long as they were getting it in with someone that was in the band.

“You’re Emma. . . right? The new guitarist? You were so great tonight. I mean- Leon was always a bit of a poser anyway. You’re killing it.” One of the girls started, moving to stand next to you in the doorway.

You weren’t sure why, but you felt angry. Genuinely angry. Were you jealous of Ellie? No, because you were sure they would still rather fuck you than her. You’d been their first choice, afterall. Maybe you felt the need to shelter Ellie a bit? Yeah, that had to be it. She was still learning the ropes, and the last thing she needed was to be sexually harassed in a hotel hallway.

“. . . -lie” She was mumbling under her breath, eyes locked on the expensive carpet beneath her ratty old sneakers.

She had changed out of her stage clothes and put on jeans and a t-shirt. Her hair looked wet too, meaning she’d already taken a shower. She smelled earthy- Alpine, even.

You leaned against the frame, slamming your hand against the doorway to box the two women in, hoping to keep them away from the newbie. They flinched but both seemingly weren’t off put in their newfound pursuit.

“You’re the most talented guitarist I’ve ever seen live. I mean. . . your solos were incredible.” You hadn’t managed to successfully remember the girl’s names. Just that they were friends with two guys that had worked security for the venue tonight. People often took advantage of connections like that in order to get close to you and your bandmates. It usually worked too. Tonight was different though. Tonight you had a real stick up your ass.

Ashley? Amber? Sophie? God, you were bad with names.

“. . . -is Ellie.” Your guitarist mumbled again, slowly moving back down the hall in the direction of her suite.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion over her attitude, and you were quick to stumble out of your room and down the hall after her.

“Wait! Emma, can we get an autograph!” One of the half naked girls called after the two of you, trying desperately to shrug on her shirt to follow after.

Ellie turned then, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. You’d. . . You’d never seen her like that before.

“My name is fucking Ellie! Who is Emma? Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” She dug her hand into the back pocket of her jeans, trying desperately to find her keycard.

The girls gasped at her outburst, jostled by the look of pure evil on her face. Even you were taken aback, not used to this kind of attitude from her. Still, you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t know why she was acting like this.

Ellie was what some would call a “mega fan”, though that would be putting it lightly. The word “stalker” would be more appropriate. Your manager knew that before he even messaged her for an audition. He’d checked all of her social media sites and scrubbed the internet for anything he could find on her. One thing was made very clear:

Ellie was obsessed with you.

For whatever reason she seemed to be keeping it a secret from Gene and Chris. All she fessed up to them was that she enjoyed your music, which was why she’d auditioned in the first place. She’d conveniently left out the dedicated fan blogs and the status of her cult-like following.

You didn’t mind it. Sure, it was a bit creepy. . . but she was talented and you liked her. She could hold her own against Gene and Chris’ constant asshole behavior, and had been receptive to Barry trying to teach her the ropes of the business. It was obvious that she wanted this, even if her motives weren’t exactly purely for the music. You’d let her be as close to you as she wanted if it meant that she’d continue playing the way that she does. The crowd had loved her, and it was only her second show with the band.

She was a bit shy, but that would pass eventually. You remember your early debut days vividly. You’d been just like her, maybe even a little worse.

“Hey, stop for a second.” You reached out to grab her wrist, stopping her from fleeing after her outburst. She turned to glare at you, but her eyes softened as she took in your features.

You could feel her arm trembling in your grasp, so you gently let go. No matter how many times you touched her or spent time with her, she still seemed to get overly nervous in your presence. It was endearing.

“Aren’t you a bit busy? Don’t let me ruin your fun-” She was being sarcastic.

“I was done with them by the time you knocked on the door. They aren’t exactly my type. I’m not sure why I even invited them back in the first place.” If you had to guess, you’d probably done it out of habit. You were used to inviting people back to your room or tour bus.

Ellie didn’t seem pleased by your answer. If anything it seemed to upset her even more. She bristled, reaching back into her pocket for her keycard. What did she want to hear? That you hadn’t touched them? You groaned, wiping an exhausted hand down your face.

The elevator dinged behind you, meaning the girls had finally taken the hint and were leaving with their tails tucked between their legs.

“Are you jealous or something?” You asked once the elevator doors were closed. The last thing you needed were the girls trying to sell information to some shitty gossip magazine.

She froze, eyes going wide and lips going pale. It was almost like she didn’t think that you knew all about her dirty little secret. A part of you wanted to tease her. Really make her squirm.

“Why would I be jealous? Those girls weren’t exactly my type either.” She was good at playing things off. Ellie was a good liar.

But you were good at sniffing out the bullshit. It was one of your many talents.

“Not of me,” You leaned against the wall next to her door, watching with curious eyes as she began fumbling in her pockets for her key. “Of them. Do you wish I had taken you back to my room or something?” You cooed flirtatiously, flashing her one of your most sinister smiles.

She coughed, turning around so that she could hide her face from you. This nearly had you groaning out loud in disappointment. Was she blushing? Do her freckles look even brighter when her skin gets all pink and hot?

Nah, it was dangerous to think like this. Band members were always off limits. It was a recipe for disaster. The last thing you needed was another Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham situation on your hands. Your PR team wouldn’t be able to recover. They’d just barely gotten over the “Leon” incident by the skin of their teeth.

Your old band member having to be tackled by three cops in a hotel lobby was horrible. It made you look sloppy. And sleeping with the brand new edition to the band was definitely sloppy.

“You’re acting crazy.” Ellie told you, shoving the keycard into the lock so that she could clammer into her room.

Pushing the boundaries was sort of your thing. You enjoyed being bad, fuck the consequences. Right about now you wanted to kiss Ellie. What would her reaction be? Was she a good kisser? You wanted to know. No- you needed to know.

“You’re right. I’m talking nonsense, don’t listen to me,” You called after her into the room. “Sweet dreams.”

And with that you sauntered back to your own room, practically purring in delight over the fact that it had been that easy to get to Ellie like that. You loved pushing the boundaries. . . and now you had a new toy to play with.

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lovings4turn · 9 months

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୭ 🗝️ ✧ ˚. 🪩 teas’n, pleas’n . . . (e.m)

— eddie is a man who possesses a lot of musical talent. luckily for you, his fingers’ capabilities extend far beyond plucking the strings of his prized guitar

+ contains: language, smut, afab!reader + fem nicknames

+ divider from cafekitsune

god, you were a terrible person.

eddie had been wanting to show this to you all day. he’d practically dragged you back to his trailer the second he’d picked you up, all so he could lead you into his bedroom and grab his precious guitar from her place on his wall.

despite his excitement, he’d taken the time to place a pillow against his headboard so that you would be comfortable as you watched him. the caring nature of his action made your heart swell, and the broad grin he’d shot your way as you sprawled out across his mattress only intensified that feeling.

now, as he stood a few feet away from you, mastering a particularly tricky riff with little difficulty but a lot of vigour, you couldn’t even focus on appreciating the sheer talent it took.

it’d probably taken him days, weeks, possibly even months, of endlessly listening to his 'dangerous toys' cassette and playing along, aiming to nail every last note. it wasn't only a means to impress the other members of corroded coffin, no; eddie’s main intention in learning the song was to impress you. and yet, you weren’t even fully paying attention to him.

instead, your eyes were locked on to the way eddie had pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, an expression you’d seen many times before, but under a very different circumstance. instead of gripping the neck of his guitar, his hand would typically be around your throat as he fucked into you fast and deep, filth spilling from his lips as he approached his high. it definitely didn’t help that his head was thrown back, exposing the curve of his neck and therefore the faint smattering of purple marks that you had left a few days prior.

his ring-clad fingers travelled up and down the guitar’s neck with such ease and dexterity, moving so fast it should be considered criminal, and the action made the deep blue veins of his arms and hands pop out beneath his skin. better yet, eddie’s eyes were closed, allowing you to continue your lustful admirations without the looming fear of being caught.

whilst eddie was no doubt running through the memorised tabs in his mind, you were picturing something a lot less pure. the guitar was the least of your concern, and you squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to create some sort of friction.

it was only natural for your mind to go somewhere else.

countless times before you’d seen eddie’s hands repeat similar movements between your legs, calloused fingers moving in and out of your cunt in just the right way to make you see stars. he was good with his hands and the smug little shit knew it, and god you had to stop thinking like this before you got too turned on.

for once, it seemed fate was on your side, as you managed to return to your senses just as eddie played the final few chords. his eyelids fluttered open to reveal those brown, doe eyes thar you adored so much. the smile on his face was impossibly infectious, causing your stomach to flip with a cocktail of love and guilt at his look of pure joy.

“well? what’d you think, sweetheart? am i on my way to becoming the next van halen?”

you grasped for something to say, begging that your mouth would form some appropriate response to his question, spit out a compliment that proved you were definitely paying attention to the music, and not to the way his hands would feel in between your thighs.

“hello?” eddie waved a hand in front of your face, soft chuckles escaping his lips. “earth to y/n. did y’like it babe?”

you blinked slowly, mind finally catching up to what eddie was asking you. before you could formulate a proper sentence, your mouth produced the first thing your muddled brain could think of.

“it was hot as fuck.”

shit.

that was not at all like what you wanted to say at all. the farthest thing from it, in fact. how hard was it to tell him it was impressive? curse your brain for being so impossibly horny right now.

eddie’s playful grin was quickly replaced by a smirk, the corner of his lip pulled up as he moved towards you. with a surprising amount of grace, eddie slotted himself in between your legs, lips ghosting over your own painfully.

just as you moved to connect your lips, to convey everything you had wanted to say to him before your mind has betrayed you, eddie pulled back with a tsk.

“ah, ah, not so fast. you weren’t paying attention to me, were you?” though teasing, his voice was laced with an undertone of incredulity.

though your mouth opened, you closed it almost immediately, floundering as you attempted to remain calm. your lack of a response told eddie everything he needed to know.

“huh. so, how about you tell me what exactly you were thinking about in that pretty little head of yours?”

you shook your head in an act of defiance, but it was no use. rough fingertips made contact with your chin, forcing your eyes to meet deep brown ones.

"don't get all shy on me now, sweetheart."

eddie's words were mocking, the corner of his lips quirked up into an amused smirk. yet, he was only human.

finally, his bitten lips pressed against your own. whilst one hand cupped your jaw, the metal of his rings cold against your flushed cheeks, the other dropped down to your chest, bunching up the fabric of your shirt.

his fingers moved tantalisingly slow, trailing from your navel down to the skin of your thigh. with a teasing purr, he grazed his hand against your dripping pussy before turning his attention to the other thigh. any attempt to mask just how much he was loving this had clearly failed - you could read him like a book.

"so fucking wet f'me, shit. been wanting it this the whole time, huh?"

all you could do was whine, bucking your hips up in an attempt to meet his hand. eddie merely tutted and swatted at the flesh of your thigh, shaking his head as he looked up to meet your eye.

"ah, ah, babe. you gotta ask for what you want." his hands trailed up and down your skin with a featherlight touch, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his warm palms. "want to hear you say all of the dirty little things you want me to do to you. i'm gonna fucking wreck you, princess."

you were in for a long night.

#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut

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gretavanmoon · 6 months

Text

G13

Spinning Now: "Finish What Ya Started" by Van Halen (1988)

Pairing: Josh x Female Reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Description: You and Josh, your favorite new co worker, decide to share more than drinks as what started as a normal night turns into something you never expected.

Warnings: Smoking, Drinking, Cursing, Drug Use, Heavy Flirting, Praise, Dirty Talk, Touching, Mention of Breakups and Heartbreak, Sadness. Smut: Kissing, Oral M!receiving

New town, new job, new life.

That’s always how things went in the movies, and every time, the girl always got her happy ending.

How hard can it be, right?

After you’d managed to knock the first new off your list when you moved out of your ex’s house and to the next city over, the “job” part was next in line. After a week of filling out applications, you finally landed on the perfect selection, a serving job at Angelo’s Pizza.

You’d started this new job about about three months ago, and you finally felt like you were getting your footing with the flow of things. You’d been a server for as long as you could remember, but getting used to a new restaurant with new people and new menus and management could sometimes prove to be difficult. You were handling it with as much grace as you could, and the money was killer, so you stuck it out.

“You coming to the bar with me tonight?” your new favorite coworker, Josh asked as he stared into the kitchen from the expo window, rolling a pile of coasters across the countertop.

“Mmmh…” You mumbled under your breath. “I dunno, I’ve been here since lunch and my feet are absolutely killing me.”

”Ugh don’t be such a prude, Y/N.” He responded, taking a pepperoni and cheese in one hand, and a supreme in the other. “We’ll be sitting down the whole time. Ya know. In barstools.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You teased, elbowing him in the ribs. “I guess so, but I can’t stay out late like last weekend. I open tomorrow.”

“Oooo, a clopen. That sucks. Well, I don’t. So I can get drunk, and you can watch me.” He flashed you a giant smile before taking off with the pizzas in hand, disappearing into the sea of people seated in the restaurant.

Josh had befriended you on your very first day, comforting you after your manager harshly scolded you for ringing something in incorrectly.

“Don’t worry about it.” He’d said as you pouted in the walk-in. “I still fuck my shit up all the time. The cooks don’t really care, plus if you mess somethin’ up, we get to eat the fucked up pizza.” That was the only thing he said to you the entire day, but it really stuck with you, immediately making you feel a lot better about your tiny mistake.

Now, after a few months of working side by side with Josh, you’d actually gotten to know each other fairly well, and you’d even go as far as calling him one of your good friends. You’d managed to get to know all your coworkers on a surface level, but Josh actually took the time to listen to you when you spoke, and showed real interest in the things you had to say, no matter how menial.

He was cute, and around the same age as you, but there was something about Josh that you couldn’t put your finger on. It was something that struck you, making him stand out from the rest of the guys you worked with. His aura pulled you in, and the way his eyes sparkled in the neon that covered the walls of the restaurant didn’t help the fact that he sometimes made your heart skip a beat. You decided that it was just his looks, though, catching you off guard every once in a while as you were around him more. Most importantly, he made you feel welcome. Like a good friend should.

The more you got to know Josh, the more open he became with you, and you quickly learned that his real personality outside of work was a little bit different than when you were on the clock. It’d become almost a habit, now, joining Josh at his favorite dive bar down the street when you’d both end up on the same closing schedule. It was like Groundhog Day, Josh would ask you to come out, you’d find an excuse to turn him down, but you always left Angelo’s with your hand in his as you tiredly dragged yourselves down the street. Sometimes other coworkers would join you, but it was always the two of you left shutting the bar down, joking and laughing with one another as you waited for your Ubers.

Josh was quickly becoming a norm for you. A fun, platonic norm. And though you were both flirty with one another, it never felt as though it would go past anything but that. Just friends. And you were very content with that.

So tonight, as things wound down and the patrons closed out their tabs, you felt as if you really could use a nightcap or two to reward yourself for not making even one mistake on your orders today.

As you tied the oversized trash bag closed, you met eyes with Josh as he skillfully swiped the mop across the sticky, sauce-covered floor.

He grinned when he saw you looking, making your stomach drop. “What?” He asked, biting his lower lip in as he staved off a full-on smile.

“Nothing. Just thinking about how you roped me into going out again tonight.” You said with faux aggravation.

Josh sucked in his teeth as he plopped the mop back into the big yellow bucket, rolling it over to where you stood. “Actually, I asked you out with me tonight for another reason. I wasn’t kidding when I said I was gonna get absolutely shit hammered, tonight.” His tone was serious rather than silly, and you instantly felt like something was wrong.

“What’s the other reason?” You pressed, lifting the bag from the can. “Everything okay?”

He shook his head and swallowed, opening the double doors to the kitchen to go and dump his bucket. You followed closely behind him with your trash.

“Eh, not really. I’ll tell you all about it when we get there. Let’s lock this bitch up.” He flashed his eyes to the floor as he spoke, which was unlike him. He always spoke with such confidence and effortless ease.

The two of you finished up your closing tasks and said goodnight to the line cooks, grabbing up your things from your lockers and stuffing your aprons back inside. Josh was quiet the whole time, again striking you as out of the ordinary. You hadn’t known Josh long, but you did know him well enough to know that something was off, and he wasn’t handling it well.

“Think I’m going straight for liquor tonight.” He said as you walked arm in arm down the crowded sidewalk to the bar. He tilted his head back, blowing a puff of air above you, watching as the cold air turned it into steam.

“Damn.” You answered. “You must really be going through it, friend.” It was also unlike Josh to drink liquor; each time you were around him, he’d always chosen draft beer.

You both stepped inside the dimly-lit dive bar, letting the heat warm your chilly bones from the cold autumn air. You both took up camp on two stools at the end of the bar, closest to the back wall. The bartender Roy approached you, throwing down two bar napkins in front of you as you got comfortable in your seats.

“Evenin’, guys. Sex on the Beach andddd, Josh, we’ve got a Kolsch and a pale ale on tap, and also a—“

“Jack Daniel’s. Neat, please.” Josh interrupted Roy, causing him to contort his face with surprise.

“Been waiting on you almost five years and never known you to drink liquor. But, alright…” Roy responded as he left for a minute, returning and placing your drinks in front of you. “I’ll keep the tab goin’.”

It was silent between the two of you for the first couple of minutes, both of you sipping your drinks as you relaxed your muscles from the long workday. Finally, you decided you would have to be the one to speak first, for once.

“Okay, spill. What’s got you on the hard stuff tonight?” You asked, turning to face Josh in your stool.

He leaned on his elbow, his tight black t-shirt squeezing his toned arm just right. “I got dumped last night.”

You felt your eyebrows jump to your forehead. “What?! Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Josh…I didn’t even know you had a—“

“Nah, it’s okay. I could kinda tell shit was going sideways, anyway, ya know? Almost expected it. But, still doesn’t make it hurt any less.” He disconnected his eye contact, tilting his glass back all the way and finishing off the last bit of his whiskey.

You were almost stunned speechless. You hadn’t seen Josh show any emotion that even came close to sadness before, and you struggled with how you were going to react.

Roy brought the bottle of Jack over, filling Josh’s glass with another two fingers.

“How long were you together?” You asked, tiptoeing with caution, given that he might not want to go into much detail.

“Four and a half years.” He said blankly.

“My god, are you serious?!” You choked out with disbelief.

He nodded hard as he kept his eyes trained on the bar in front of you, spinning his stool in tiny tight circles. “Yeah. Long time.” He sipped his drink again.

“I really am sorry, Josh. That’s a long time to be with someone for it to just...” You placed a hand on his arm as you spoke.

He crossed his arms in front of him. “Yeah, it’s fucked.” He growled, leaning back in his stool.

“You wanna talk about it?” You asked.

“No, that’s why we’re here.” He slammed his hands on the bar top, motioning for Roy to refill your already almost empty cocktail.

Roy brought your new drink over, stirring the drink with the tiny straw for you. Josh lifted his glass into the air, forcefully clinking it against yours. “To moving on!” He said, finishing the drink off once again.

——

An hour or so later, you and Josh had managed to find yourselves significantly intoxicated once again, engaged in a deep passionate debate.

“Ever since they banned smoking indoors, the American bar scene has been fucked!�� Josh drunkenly yelled overtop of the loud music and large crowd that had joined you inside the bar.

You had to laugh. “Josh, not everybody loves breathing that shit in! It makes some people really sick!” You challenged.

“Ah, hell. You come into a bar, you expect to be around smoke, all there is to it. All there is to it!” He crossed his arms and shrugged his shoulders in defiance of your argument.

“You can go outside and smoke, Josh. Easy as that. Just get over it!” The two of you were glassy-eyed and giggly, feeling your liquor take hold of you as you talked. Josh brought about a warmth in you that you’d never experienced before, and you’d be lying if you said your…attraction? to him wasn’t amplified when you were drunk.

No, not attraction.

Something else…

You had no idea what to label the feeling, because you’d never felt it ever before. You took it in stride, though, embracing the completely new emotion as it came. It was almost like you craved his attention, and fed off of him engaging with you. You wanted to please him, but not in such a way that was sexual.

…You didn’t think.

No. You just craved his recognition. Wanted his eyes on you and no one else. Wanted to make him laugh, be the one who made him forget about everything else. It wasn’t a jealousy thing, it was a matter of possessiveness. You wanted to protect him like a best friend. And anyone who dared cause him unhappiness would have to deal with you.

Is this insane thinking?! Am I crazy for this? You drunkenly asked yourself as you washed your hands in the bar bathroom sink, giving yourself a disapproving look in the mirror. Probably, maybe…but he seems to feel the same about you... You had noticed that the second you’d inadvertently struck up a conversation with another guy at the bar, Josh quickly stole your attention away again, bringing up a whole new topic of conversation that had nothing to do with the last.

He charmed you. Drew you in. Challenged your thoughts and opinions…made you talk like you’d never talked before. Laugh like you’d never laughed.

“You’re really smart, Y/N. I didn’t really notice that about you, before.” Josh smiled as he leaned over toward you on the bar. His cheeks were tinted the prettiest pink from the alcohol.

“Uhh, thanks, I guess?” You chortled, feigning being offended.

“No I mean, you surprise me. Keep me guessing, every time I turn around. Never had a friend like that before. I’m usually so bored with everyone I meet. You make me like, think. Ya know?” He explained as you nodded sweetly in understanding. You knew you were blushing.

“Last call!!” You heard Roy yell across the still-crowded room. You made blurry eye contact with Josh again.

“Damn, we didddit agin.” You stammered. “Let me pay, you’ve had a hard couple’a days.”

“No no no, no you don’t. I asked you here, my treat. Plus, my drinks were fuckin’ pricey tonight.”

“But Josh, let me treat you, for once...” You jutted your bottom lip out as you begged him. You watched as his eyes landed on your lips, stealing his attention again. Suddenly, you felt excited.

“Alright, alright. But I’m leavin’ the tip.” He agreed. “I just needed some sympathy…that’s all I wanted tonight.”

“And you got it, didn’t you? You forgot all about your messy breakup?”

“For the most part, yes.” He laughed. “But I like to look at the long run, ya know? Like to take each step, one by one. Let myself live in the sadness.”

You scoffed as you signed your name on the receipt and pulled your coat on. “Psh, Josh, didn’t you just cheers me and say ‘to moving on’?”

He stood from his stool, wrapping his arm around your neck tightly. The smell of his cologne mixed with the remnants of pizza filled your senses, temporarily making you dizzy as he squeezed you in his grip.

“I did, Y/N, I did. But I’m also drunk, now. So. And also, I don’t really wanna go home yet. ‘M gonna walk you to your Uber then hit up Chauncey’s…they stay open ‘til 2.”

You turned in his grasp, your face within inches of his as he held you tightly. “Don’t go back out, Josh. No sense in drinkin’ your sorrows away by yourself.” It felt like you were outside of your own body; all you wanted was to go home and strip down and crawl into bed, but for some reason, your mouth told Josh that apparently you didn’t want to go home, either. “Come back to my place. We’ll have one more drink, and we can share the blunt that TJ gave me yesterday.”

“TJ? The linecook?” Josh seemed surprised. “You letting strangers give you drugs now, Y/N?”

“He’s hardly a stranger, Josh. Why, you jealous?” You teased, while also testing the waters of what the hell this feeling the two of you apparently shared could actually be.

“Fuck no, I’m not jealous. I’m…I…” Josh opened his mouth, but nothing came out after that. “I don’t know, I just—“ You were still tightly wrapped up in the crook of his elbow, his face so close to yours that you could smell the liquor on his breath as he struggled to speak.

You decided to save him. “It’s alright Josh. You don’t have to come over. I’ll smoke it allllll by myself…” you sneakily wrapped your arm around his back, giving it a couple playful pats.

He looked down at you through his lashes, his jaw clenched tightly together. “You really want me to come over?”

You nodded. “I do. Come on, it’ll be fun.” More than anything, you wanted him to know you were the reason he had such a good night, and the reason he was able to forget about his breakup.

“Okay, jackass. You talked me into it. Let’s go get high.” He released you from his grasp as you confirmed your Uber on your phone, and your overwhelming satisfaction of claiming his attention again propelled you out the door.

——

“Cute place. You decorate it yourself?” Josh teased as you both entered your apartment. It was only half-decorated and you hardly had any furniture, spending most of your days working and saving up money to finish furnishing it.

“Shut up, dick head!” You shoved him backwards as he laughed. “I haven’t finished making it cute yet.” You pulled the bottle of liquor from the cabinet, shaking the little bit that was left. “I know you’ve been drinking whiskey, but…vodka’s all I’ve got.”

“Ah, it’ll work.” Josh responded, plopping down on your couch. “M’already fucked with a hangover tomorrow, might as well do it up.” You caught sight of his pretty light brown curls sitting on top of his head, and you felt another rush of that strange excitement soar through you.

You made the two drinks and joined him on the couch, pulling the blunt up under your nose as you breathed in its earthy scent. Josh took the drink from your hand, raising his eyebrows as he watched you smell the rolled marijuana.

“TJ usually has good shit, I will say.” He winked, sipping his drink.

You pulled your feet up underneath you on the couch, scooting yourself closer to him. “Thought you said I shouldn’t take drugs from strangers…”

“I never said you shouldn’t, I just meant that next time you should get your weed from me.” He spoke without a care, taking the blunt from your hand and bringing it to his own nose.

“Ah, well I was unaware I could do that, Joshua.” You snatched it back from him, taking the lighter from the table in front of you and lighting the end of the blunt. You inhaled the smoke slowly, noticing that Josh hadn’t responded to you.

You glanced at him, finding the most devastating half smile on his face. You swore you felt your skin tingle.

“Did you just call me by my government name, Y/N?” He whispered, leaning his head down to you.

You exhaled the smoke you didn’t realize you were holding, nodding slowly. “Yeah, you mad about it?”

You passed him the blunt. “Nah, kinda liked the way it sounded, actually.” You watched as his lips made a perfect O around the tip of the blunt, and you found yourself wondering what kind of chapstick he used to get them to look…like that…

You felt your eyes grow heavy as your first hit found you, the THC entering your system quickly. Josh must have noticed, as he giggled at your appearance. “Told you TJ had good shit.”

“I swear to god I’m already fuckin’ high…” you laughed, taking another big hit.

“Mmm, no baby, you’re crossed. But not all the way. Yet.” Josh’s voice was gritty and buttery all at the same time. And the fact that he called you baby had you feeling that same feeling again. He calls everybody baby, though…all the girls at work…you’re not special.

The two of you sat and smoked until the blunt was a roach, and the air around you was thick with haziness. Your entire body was heavy and floaty, and you swore you could feel the blood pumping through your extremities. The conversation with Josh was so easy, so effortless, and the way the two of you held the complete attention of one another continued to astound you.

“So tell me about you. What’s your real story?” Josh asked, the both of you sitting facing one another completely, now.

You sipped your vodka drink. “What do you mean, real story?”

“I only know a little bit about you, where did you come from? What’s in your past?”

You took a deep breath. “Well, believe it or not, Josh, I kinda just got broken up with recently, too.”

“No way, you’re kidding. When? What happened?” He pressed.

“Ahh, about a month before I started at Angelo’s. I’m from about twenty miles away, up north a bit. Came here looking to start completely fresh. Still close enough to my family, if I need them. Ya know…” you trailed off. Josh’s eyes were telling you to continue.

“I got dumped, too. After a year of being with him. I thought we were serious, but apparently not. It didn’t hurt me too bad, I’m alright. Liking my new life pretty well, actually.”

Josh dramatically leaned back on the couch cushion, throwing his free hand over his face. “Ugh, god…how embarrassing. You handled bein’ dumped like a goddamned rockstar. I’m over here down in the dumps.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s okay, Josh. Four and a half years is a lot longer than one…”

“You’re right, I guess.” He sat back up, bringing his attention back to you. “So what was his reason? What was his last straw?” He asked, moving his face closer to yours. Your body was vibrating from the alcohol and the weed, and the presence of Josh sitting so close to you on your couch. You were positively buzzing.

“He uh, didn’t really give me one. Just said it was over.” You whispered, feeling your emotions flying all over the place. Josh’s hand reached up, twirling a piece of your hair between his fingers. “He also said I was a bad kisser, or something stupid.”

Josh winced at your words. “A bad kisser? I highly doubt that, Y/N…”

“And why do you doubt that?” You giggled.

“Because. I have a hard time taking my eyes off your lips, I can only imagine how hard it would be to take my lips off of them…” he smirked a little, laughing through his nose.

“You’re fuckin’ stoned.” You laughed, leaning your face onto his hand.

“And? I speak nothing but the truth, baby.”

“Mmmhm, yeah. Shut up.” You complained.

“I’m serious. I bet you really are a good kisser. That guy was just…stupid.”

“Maybe I’m a horrible kisser, how would I ever know?” You shrugged, feeling your body about to jump out of your skin simply from having this conversation with Josh.

He held his first two fingers up, motioning for you to come here. “Come on. Show me how you like to kiss.”

“What?! No, I’m not gonna do that.” You blushed, pulling away from him with shyness.

“Baby, it’s me. I’m just trying to judge your kissing skills. I’ll be completely honest with you, tell you if that guy was right or not.” Josh said, holding his hands out to the sides.

You stopped, staring at Josh through your slit eyelids, trying to figure him out. He met you with sincere eyes, and though you were both extremely intoxicated, you didn’t feel uncomfortable in the least.

“I’m serious. Just kiss me.” He said matter of factly. “S’no big deal.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the air surrounding you heavy with normalcy, but also heavy with yearning.

You slowly pulled yourself in closer to him, gently wetting your lips as your mind went back and forth on whether or not to do this. Your breath became a little chopped, nerves bursting through the wall of your drunken carelessness.

Finally you were close enough to feel his breath on your lips, and your hands naturally shot up to cup his jaw. He clenched it, his eyes falling heavy again as his breath caught. Your heart was absolutely pounding from your chest.

“Do it.” He whispered. “Show me.”

You finally let your lips press gently to his, your hands still cupping his jaw, as his hands sat comfortably in his lap. The feeling of them was exactly what you had imagined, soft, supple, and sweet, with the tiniest bit of sting on them from the leftover liquor. You finally exhaled, pulling away a bit to gauge his reaction.

“You can get into it, baby.” He smiled, urging you to push through your nerves. “I’m just here to help, s’just me…” his voice was like honey, the sound of it tearing through your body as he motivated you.

You leaned in again, this time letting yourself be a little more brazen, a little more steadfast as you worked to prove your ex wrong. Worked to impress Josh. Worked to show him. You opened your mouth a little, letting your tongue skirt across his bottom lip. The flavor of him almost knocked you down.

You began to get into it some more, letting your high take over, and letting your guard down as you found yourself really, really enjoying kissing him. You perched up a little bit moving to your knees to get a better stance.

“Mmmhmm… keep goin’ baby…” Josh mumbled when you broke away for a second. His words urged you on, and you felt brave enough to push your tongue further into his mouth, but only a little. You didn’t want to overwhelm, just experiment. His tongue met yours in the process, tasting each other for the very first time.

Your hands curled up in his hair, squeezing at the roots a bit. He let out a little whine, so quiet that you almost didn’t even hear it. It ignited something inside you again, and you knew you had to drive it home. Had to prove yourself. You pulled away for a second, hissing in air as you bit his bottom lip, pulling it out a little and making eye contact before pressing into him again, both of you moving in such unison that you were fully involved in the sultry kiss, now.

At this point you felt like you were teetering on the thin line of platonic kissing; you were still trying to prove yourself, but also…he tasted so good…

You felt the need to be touched. You reached down and grabbed Josh’s wrists, pulling them up to rest on you- one hand on your thigh, and the other around the back of your neck. You wanted reciprocation. He obliged, and as you licked into his mouth, his hand squeezed into your thigh, strong and needing. His fingers felt like burning embers on your leg, and you wished that you had changed into shorts when you got home.

His hand pulled at the back of your neck, burying your mouths further into one another. “Fuck, baby…he was wrong, you proved him so wrong…” Josh said, smiling against your lips as he delved back in. Your mind was swimming from his words of praise, and you decided that though this was simply an act between friends, you knew that you could kiss him all day long, never tiring of the feeling of his lips on yours. You were completely surrounded by him, by his warming presence. His scent, his sounds, his touch… It was all too much. You felt like you were drowning in him, but you didn’t dare try to pull yourself from his waters.

Your hands squeezed at his hair one last time as you let them drift down his cheeks and neck, tickling the back of his neck before rolling across his shoulders. You slowly brought them down to his pecs, and finally rested them on his cheeks again, pulling his face away from yours for a split second before landing one last peck.

When you finally disconnected, you took in the sight of him…hair disheveled, eyes black and glazed, and his hands still rested gently in the places that you put them.

“Holy fuck…” he breathed.

“Oh my god, was it bad? It was bad, wasn’t it? He was right, I’m a horrible kis—“ you were completely cut off by Josh’s lips on yours again, this time forcefully pulling you into him. This kiss was pleading, unbridled, and wanting, and each time you pulled away, you both were panting with want.

“What the fuck are we doing?” You breathed when you broke away.

“Kissing contest.” He answered, his hand respectfully staying on the back of your neck. “I think I’m winning, though…”

“Mmm, I don’t know about that…” you said with a bit more confidence in yourself after seeing how you made him feel.

“Yeah you’re right.” He agreed through an inhale. “You’re kicking my ass at this experiment.” He drove his tongue into your mouth again, but it didn’t make you want to retract…it made you want to pull it in further. You began to feel the heat that the two of you were emanating, and the sweat that was forming on your skin.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t completely turned on, but you would never let him know that. You couldn’t. You’re just friends. One friend helping another get over his ex by having a kissing contest. Makes total sense.

Finally you pulled away again, covering your mouth with your hand. You laughed, making Josh in turn laugh with you. “Well? What’s the verdict? Was he right?” You asked.

“Fuck no, he wasn’t right. You’re a hell of a kisser, Y/N.” Josh’s smile stretched all the way across his face, completely blissed out in his high. “God damn, you left me a panting mess, baby.”

Your heart stopped at his words, feeling more confidence in yourself than you’d felt in a long, long time. Suddenly, the wildest idea to ever come across your mind escaped right through your lips.

“Josh, we’re just good friends, right?” You asked.

“Yeah, baby. Real good friends.” He wiped his hand across his mouth before extending both arms across the back of your couch.

“Do you—do you care if I finish what I started?” You asked in an absolute moment of weakness. The look on his face turned up into surprise, and you weren’t sure how he was going to react to your question.

“What uh, what do you mean, Y/N?”

You moved toward him again, wanting to feel him again. Feel his hands on you again. Be the center of all his attention again.

“Can you judge something else for me, Josh? I’ve always wondered how well I…performed…and who better to be the judge than my very good friend? Who will be completely honest with me?”

WHO even are you?! You felt like a person outside your own body. The confidence he was giving you was…

“This ain’t no way to treat the broken-hearted, baby…” he replied, his voice a soft breath of air as his head lulled backwards. You paused again, unsure how to take him. “But I’ll be your judge…”

“Really? You will?” You asked, feeling vulnerable, but also wanting to show out for him.

“Mhm. If that’s what you really want…” He bit his lower lip into his mouth, letting his eyes fall onto your lips like they had been doing all night.

“Just friends…” you reiterated.

“Just friends.” He parroted, lightly tapping your cheek with his hand.

This was absolutely something you never did, and definitely wasn’t something you could ever even see yourself doing with Josh, of all people. You were supposed to be making him forget about his ex, letting him talk through it… hell, he was just dumped twenty-four hours ago. But there was something other-worldly spurring you on, whispering in your ear to just do it. And he was letting you. Was it wrong? Maybe, probably… but honestly, where was the harm in it? You were both obviously into each other, and as long as you were just making each other happy, you didn’t see anything wrong with it.

Besides, this new need to make him think about nothing but you at every single second was making your head spin, and you wanted his focus completely on you, right now. You moved to press your lips to his again, letting things naturally heat up so that you could continue on with your intentions. You took a deep breath, confidently removing yourself, and placing yourself in the floor in front of him. It was at this second that you were extremely thankful for your liquid courage, and the fact that you were too stoned to care about much else besides pleasing Josh. He almost made it easy.

“Ten.” Josh said out of nowhere.

“What?” you asked.

“I give your kissing a ten out of ten. Seriously.” He said, smiling from the corner of his mouth as he ran his hand along your arm, peering down at you as you kneeled on the floor.

You felt your face turn beet red, and you halfway didn’t really believe him.

“Stop playing, you don’t have to be nice.” You erred.

“M’not just being nice. Seriously, I rate it a ten.” He stated, and you knew by the sincerity in his voice that he was telling the truth.

“Wow. Didn’t expect that, honestly.” you pulled a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now, you gonna finish what ya started, or not?” There was a darkness in his tone that you hadn’t noticed yet, and it made your stomach turn over with nerves. But even more so, it lit a fuse in your chest that was slowly burning, ready to explode at any given second. And with each passing minute, you wanted to impress him even more.

You maneuvered yourself on your knees, gripping his thighs and pulling them apart so that you could place yourself between them. Your hands stayed there on his legs, squeezing and kneading at his muscles as you moved your hands closer and closer to where you both really wanted them to be. You could almost physically see him getting harder through his dark jeans, and you could hear his breathing picking up, too.

You let your hands drift to his groin, squeezing the muscles there as he leaned down in his seat, giving you extra space as his head fell back on the cushions. You found the button on his jeans, pulling the fabric sideways and undoing the button with one hand and unzipping the zipper. “Damn, alright…” Josh laughed, holding his hands up. “Show off.”

You took that as a tiny win, and decided to keep it going, playing on his words from earlier. ‘You keep me guessing at every turn…’

You pushed your hair back behind your shoulders, and leaned yourself down, letting your mouth meet his boxer-covered dick. You nipped your teeth lightly at it, making him hiss. You could tell just from this little bit of contact that he was well-endowed, and you felt your mouth physically watering for him. You needed to taste him. Your lips bounced around, peppering little kisses all over… the indirect contact making his hips jut up a little.

You sat back, motioning with your hands. “Pull them down for me.” you demanded of him, and he gave you the sneakiest smirk, leaning back and pushing his pants and boxers down far enough to spring himself free.

You weren’t wrong. He was perfectly sized, and it reassured you that you were okay with going forward with this. What you did notice, though, was he wasn’t as hard as you wanted him to be. Your hands rested on his thighs again as you sized him up, licking your lips as you prepared yourself.

Josh had been the one urging you on all night, but suddenly, it felt like there had been a little bit of a shift. You finally brought your moistened lips to him, licking little circles around his tip, starting slowly at first, then picking up a little bit of speed. You swirled and gently suckled, and you felt him take in a big breath of air into his lungs. You glanced up at him, finding him looking up at the ceiling as he bit his lips.

“What’sa matter, Josh? You okay?” you pressed, knowing that you could stop at any second, if that was what he wanted.

“No, yeah. I’m fine. I’m sorry, I just… this is the first time someone else…since…” he didn’t need to say anything more.

“God, yeah. I’m sorry, your breakup is so fresh, I’m sure this is more mental than anything, for you…” you agreed as you sat back. “We don’t have to–”

“No. Yes we do, Y/N. I’m just…” You could tell Josh was having a hard time with his words again, for the second time tonight.

“Just what? You can tell me…”

He swallowed, placing a sweet hand on the side of your face. “This is the first time I’ve um…been…with a woman…in a very long time.”

“Oh.” You muttered, his sentiment catching you off guard a little. You hadn’t realized you never even asked the name of his ex, let alone any details about the relationship.

“But it’s okay, Y/N…” He smiled, letting his thumb brush your cheek. “I may be wallowing in my sorrows, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want this, want you to do this. Just…in my head a little bit.” He admitted, putting a hole through your heart.

You sighed. “It doesn’t feel wrong?” Your voice was tiny as it escaped you.

He quickly shook his head side to side as he layed back on his elbow behind his head. “No. That’s what’s making me freak out a little, it doesn’t feel wrong in the least.” He swallowed. “Maybe I…Maybe I wasn’t as in love as I thought I was.”

You smiled a pitiful smile as you rested your elbows on his knees, taking a deep, recentering breath of your own.

“You’re really fuckin’ pretty, Y/N.” He complimented you out of the blue, his thumb still grazing your cheek. “And I’m really into you.”

“You are?” You asked.

“Yeah. I know we said we’re friends, but friends can do this. Right? Doesn’t stop the fact that I’m attracted to you.” His glossy words made your stomach do flips again as you realized maybe his feelings were the exact same as yours. Unexplainable, but still overwhelmingly good.

“Yeah. I really think friends can do this.” You agreed. And you were serious. If you were going to be this person for Josh, then he could also in turn be this person for you.

“Plus, the feeling of your lips on my cock just now…” He laughed through his nose. “Might be in competition with your ten out of ten kissing. And you hadn’t even…” He stopped there, biting both his lips into his mouth as he slid his hips down again.

Good god, you’d hoped he would have a little bit of a dirty mouth.

“You want me to keep going?” You asked.

“Fuck yeah, I do. I gotta judge your skill, don’t I?” He played, removing his hand from your cheek and running it through your hair. He gripped it a little, making you stiffen your neck. Your eyes flashed to his, and you didn’t even need to say anything, he knew what you meant. He nodded, giving you the go ahead, and you prayed that he wouldn’t remove his hand from tangling up in your hair.

You slowly leaned down to him again, starting things up just as you had before. Your tongue swirled on his tip, wetting it in circles as you let the saliva build up in your mouth. Around and around you took it, descending further and further onto him with every rotation. You heard him breathe out, his hips shaking a little beneath you. As you got as far as you could get, you pursed your lips down, tightening them around the base of his cock before sucking hard, pulling up and off of him completely. His hand tightened in your hair, showing you that he was liking it so far.

He let out a groan, followed by a little laugh. “Fuck yeah, Y/N…”

You quickly found a rhythm, letting your head begin to bob as you worked your tongue and cheeks, alternating forceful suction mixed with light little pops of your lips. His hips were jutting with every movement, and the sounds that were coming from him were enough to keep you going, keep you striving to impress him…

You took him in your hand, gripping at the base and using the saliva that had dripped down as lubrication to move your hand, twisting and pumping it. “Jesus Christ, you’re…” You took a second to glance up at him, seeing his jaw tightly clenched and his chest heaving with labored breaths. He brought his other hand down, pulling the hair that had drifted down away from your face, pulling it all back to the nape of your neck and holding it tightly there. You nodded, letting him know you were okay with him guiding your movements.

“Mhm.” You hummed on him. “Show me how you like it.”

He let out a choke of breath and readjusted in his seat, spreading his legs wider for you. He gripped a little harder on your hair, pulling you up and across his stomach, your faces almost touching as he brought his mouth close. He didn’t say anything, just hissed through his teeth as he scanned over your face. He then used a little bit of force to push your head back down to where it was, and you resumed your work.

Fuck, what the hell is happening… your chemistry with Josh was absolutely off the chain. You felt like you would follow every command he would ever give you, let him use you in the worst ways, completely trusting him to do as he pleased. You were absolutely yearning to satisfy him.

“I’ll show you exactly how I like it baby, but this is your show, remember? You’re calling the shots…” he growled, his voice deeper and more grating than it was earlier. You shrugged one shoulder, replacing your hand around his base. You moved it up and down opposite of your mouth, making his whole body start to shake. Your tongue worked on him, as your mouth drifted down as far as it could possibly go, with the help of Josh’s light guidance.

The weed had contributed to your slow, languid movements while the alcohol made your inhibitions fly out the window… the beautiful combo of the crossfade sending you both into a blurry and slow-motioned entanglement. You swore you could listen to his noises and praises on repeat. “So fuckin’ pretty, Y/N… so fuckin’ pretty…” He mumbled, lightly thrusting himself into your mouth as your neck began to ache a little. “Slow and steady, just like that…”

He puffed out a quick breath with a blow of his lips, and you could tell that he was enjoying himself just as much as you were. Normally, you would finish up the job, and expect repayment, but getting Josh to even feel the tiniest bit of pleasure at your hand was enough. It was that draw, that need to make him feel good. Keeping him and him only in the spotlight. And if you had to guess, you were doing a pretty good job at it.

After a few seconds, his movements became jostled, and his once slow grinding movements started to falter. You felt him start to throb in your mouth, and you knew it wouldn’t be long until he was crumbling beneath you, all at the mercy of your mouth.

“Hey, you want me to–” he said, suddenly shuddering.

You nodded again, pleading with him to let it all go. You wanted the whole thing, wanted him to have the full experience. You needed to see what he tasted like.

His breath started to pick up as he gripped your hair tighter, his hips pushing his dick further into your mouth as you let him graze the back of your throat, tears pouring from the sides of your eyes. “Come on baby, come on… just a little bit longer…fuck…”

Finally, he was letting it all go, filling up your mouth as you swallowed his bitter-sweetness down, savoring the taste of him on your tongue. His whole body went rigid as he came, shaking and jerking as you worked to make sure not a drop was left behind. You squeezed your hand around him, pulling him up into your mouth. His whines were like music to your ears, pathetic and pitiful as he worked to come back down to earth.

“Son of a bitch, Y/N… that was…” he said as you sat back up, wiping your mouth off with the back of your hand. He caught your jaw in his grasp, squeezing your cheeks together and forcing you to open your mouth. He pulled you closer, bringing you in for a heated kiss that left you smoldering for him.

When you finally pulled away, you met eyes with him, and you could tell he was completely blissed out. “S’been a long time since I’ve had anything like that.” He admitted, pulling your back up to sit by him on the couch again.

He tucked himself back in his boxers but decided to forgo buttoning back up. “Really? Even in a four and a half year long relationship?” You asked.

“Ah, I dunno. We were long distance, so… it was few and far between but. Really I meant being with someone who actually showed passion about making me feel good. You know what I mean?”

You couldn’t help but smile. That was exactly what you wanted out of this. For Josh to feel that you wanted to be there.

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. I just…wanted to make you feel good.” You admitted, shrugging one shoulder up as you brushed your disheveled hair back into place. “So, what’s my rating, huh? Give it to me straight.”

Josh closed one eye and looked up with the other as if he was thinking really hard. “Uh, nine and a half.”

Your mouth fell slack, and you felt the soreness in your jaw joints. “Ah! Why the half?!” You argued. “Not a ten?”

He chuckled. “Would be a ten, but I only took away the half because I know that I won’t be able to feel you like that all the time.” You both stared at one another as you let his words sink in.

Could you, though?

“And because I feel like you were holding back, a little. Weren’t you?” He pressed. His statement took you by surprise, because he was right.

“...Maybe…”

“You shouldn’t have. It’s just me, remember. Guess you’ll have to show up and show out next time. See if you can get a perfect ten.” He said with nonchalance.

“Next time?” You spat without a thought.

He shrugged, squeezing his hand around your thigh. “Sure, why not? If you want to, of course. Might be fun to have a little situation we’re both comfortable with… no strings attached type thing…”

You ran over the idea in your head, not really seeing anything wrong with it. You nodded, agreeing with his outlandish proposal.

“But, there is one thing, Y/N.” He swallowed, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. “Obviously I… um. I didn’t make you feel good, tonight. But, just give me some–”

You cupped your hand over Josh’s mouth. “Josh, honey, shut up. You don’t have to explain it to me. I understand, and it’s okay. If we’re gonna do this, it's all gonna be in good fun, right?”

He nodded from behind your hand. “Right.” He mumbled.

“And I certainly didn’t feel uncomfortable with you, so. I’m pretty positive we could just sit here and look at each other and we would have a good time.” You laughed, pulling your hand from his face. He caught your hand in his, and gave it a sweet squeeze.

“Not sure I’d be able to sit by you for too long without something happening. You’re a fuckin’ treat, Y/N. I swear.” His eyes traveled down your body again, and you watched his gears turn as his gaze drifted over your breasts. “Thank you, for tonight.”

“Thank you.” You whispered. “We still friends?”

He took your chin between his fingers. “Yeah. Good friends.”

As the air between you finally started to settle and the intoxication turned into sobriety, you realized that the night was nearly about to turn into morning. You didn’t have to be at work until 11, so you were going to be able to get at least a little bit of sleep before your shift tomorrow.

“It’s too late to get an Uber, Josh. Just stay here.” You more demanded than suggested, pulling the blanket from the back of the couch and tossing it overtop of his lap. You stood, stretching your body as you made your way toward your bedroom.

“What, you not gonna invite me to your bed?” He asked, throwing you off.

“Uhh, I mean, sure–”

“I’m kidding, Y/N. We’re friends. Friends don’t sleep in beds together. Friends sleep on couches.” You watched as he burrowed himself under the puffy blanket and made himself horizontal.

“Maybe one day you’ll end up in my bed.” You tossed the joke over your shoulder, walking down the short hallway.

“And maybe one day you’ll get a perfect ten.”

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destieltropecollection · 5 months

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Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 9: Empty Rescue

his and mine are the same | @cascigarette Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,510 Main Tags/Warnings: Post Canon Fix-It, Dean Winchester Has Abandonment Issues, Alcohol, First Kiss, Newly Human Castiel, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel and Dean Winchester Use their Words Summary: Dean rescues Cas from the Empty. They end up having to talk about that final confession.

Two lesbians, two bicons, and their cat walk into super turbohell | @nuttysaladtree Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2,038 Main Tags/Warnings: crossover with She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, the Empty, Fix-it, first kiss Summary: And they bury one person and zero gays. 15x20 "Carry On" finale fix-it that Castiel deserves. Mentioned Bow/Glimmer. Sam Winchester shows up, too, as well as the OTP Dean x pie. Melog is best kitty, and good riddance to the Empty/Shadow/Cosmic Entity and Horde Prime.

sometimes you just don't know the answer (wait for me) | @cassiecasyl Rating: General Word Count: 7,992 Main Tags/Warnings: Canonical Character Death, Episode: s15e18 Despair - Castiel's Confession Scene, Grief/Mourning, Album: evermore (Taylor Swift), Grieving Dean Winchester, Episode: s15e18 Despair, Alternate Ending, Inspired by Orpheus and Eurydice (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Reunion, Castiel in the Empty (Supernatural), Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Angst, Hope vs. Despair, Love Confessions, Angst with a Happy Ending, Inspired by Hadestown, Song: Doubt Comes In, The Fates (Hadestown) Cameo, First Kiss, Reunions, Epic Love Summary: As Dean grieves, Jack tells them of an old story, one that has been told and sung over and over again anyway. Two lovers challenge the universe to escape death. They walk the long way home, but the one in front is not allowed to turn around for the whole way. Every entity of grand power knows this, for the pact has to be respected were it ever to be attempted again. Of course, Dean goes to find Castiel, because if anyone can do this, it's them.

Can't Stop Lovin' You | @teeparadigm67 Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 9,512 Main Tags/Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Castiel is Saved from the Empty, First Kiss, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Happy Ending, Fix-It, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Dean Winchester Saves Castiel from the Empty Summary: On paper, the plan seemed simple. Jack opens the portal between the worlds. Dean walks into the Empty and makes it loud enough to wake the dead. Drag Cas’s feathery ass out of there. Simple, right? Cloaked in Cas’s grace, tape deck in hand with Van Halen blasting out its little speaker, he plans to bring the angel home and tell Cas all the things left unspoken between them for all these years. Now they have a chance, he can’t throw this all away. The only problem is, the Empty has other ideas. It doesn't stop Dean however, it’s his turn to be the one who drags Cas out of perdition. Inspired by: Van Halen - Can't Stop Lovin' You

Bring Me To Life | @Taymarpigeon Rating: Explicit Word Count: 10,960 Main Tags/Warnings: Post-Canon Fix-It, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gratuitous Smut, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Dean Winchester Calls Castiel "Angel", Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Castiel (Supernatural), Interrupting Sam Winchester Summary: In 2008 Dean Winchester met a man who changed everything; he says a man, Castiel Angel of the Lord was so much more than a man and not just because of the whole halo and wings thing. November 5th 2020 Castiel sacrificed himself to save Dean and by extension the world, but not before turning the hunter's life upside down one last time. In 2025 Dean was... moving on, let's put it that way. He hadn't forgotten Cas, spending the past five years trying to be all the things the Angel said he was in that teary goodbye. He put one foot in front of the other, day by day, because as Frank Devereaux once said: 'that's what you do'. This life only ends one way for most hunters though and Dean was no exception. Skip four months into the future and he's back, only this time he's done playing by the rules, done pretending his life didn't end with Cas that day in the dungeon. He's done. Time to do what he should have from the beginning...

stay | @thisisapaige Rating: Explicit Word Count: 15,073 Main Tags/Warnings: Fix-It, Post-Canon, Minor Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Light Angst, Happy Ending Summary: Standing on the bridge beside his brother, Dean looks around. Something’s wrong. Because this Heaven, this place Dean supposedly deserves, just seems so... empty.

The Little Issue with the Mission to Perdition | @amaranthhiding Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 16,460 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Universe, Post-Ep 15x19, Jack and Amara Try Fixing Things Together But Make Everything Worse (at first), Amara is Part of Team Free Will, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Temporary Major Character Death, Angst with Happy Ending, First Kiss, DCRB 2023 Summary: Chuck is defeated and his power now belongs to Jack and Amara. They struggle with adjusting to their newly-shared existence, and with big questions such as, how can (almost) all-powerful beings avoid becoming what Chuck was? What even is all that power good for when it doesn't allow Jack to save someone from the Empty who absolutely deserves being saved? Who thought it was a good idea to hand all that power to two beings who, together, have spent less years on Earth than the average human child? ...And why is there suddenly black goo everywhere?

Until the Moss Had Reached Our Lips | @alulangel Rating: Mature Word Count: 20,543 Main Tags/Warnings: Fix-It, Everybody Lives, Lake House, Saved from the Empty, Groundhog Day Loop, Castiel’s True Form, Castiel’s handprint, Creepy forests, Inappropriate use of pie Summary: After everything with Chuck went down, Dean thought he deserved some time off. Not a retirement, just a break. A little cabin by a lake. Fishing. Baking. Time to process and reflect. Except he doesn't remember exactly how he got there. And he doesn't know why he can't leave. And there's something about the woods around the cabin, creeping closer and closer and closer every day...

one working part | @mittensmorgul Rating: Explicit Word Count: 40,051 Main Tags/Warnings: Inspired by It's a Wonderful Life (1946) Episode Fix-It: s15e19 Inherit the Earth (Supernatural) Angst and Fluff and Smut POV Alternating Not Canon Compliant with Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth (Supernatural), Human Castiel Summary: Wherein they actually inherit the earth. Again. Because I will never be done retelling the end of their story in more sensible and satisfying ways. This time, via the power of a classic holiday film... with a slightly demonic twist.

Empty Earth (WIP) | @amaranthhiding Rating: No Rating Word Count: 102,437 Main Tags/Warnings: Post-15x18, Epic, Plotty, Angel True Forms, Consensual Possession, Enochian, Apocalypse, Rebellion in Hell, Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Witch!Sam, Destiel and Samwena, Jack & his three fathers, Crowley & Jack Summary: After Castiel's confession, Dean carries a spark of hope telling him this can't be the end. This spark is the strongest weapon for Dean, Sam and Jack in this final war. The enemy is God. The battlefield is an Earth devoid of humans, a Hell in rebellion against its queen, and a Heaven betrayed by its creator. And the stakes are everything and everyone they have ever cared about.

#destiel trope collection #destiel trope collection 2024 #destiel #fanfic #supernatural #empty rescue

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gretavangroupie · 4 months

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G13 - Finish What Ya Started

Spinning Now: "Finish What Ya Started" by Van Halen (1988)

Pairing: Josh x Female Reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Description: You and Josh, your favorite new co worker, decide to share more than drinks as what started as a normal night turns into something you never expected.

Warnings: Smoking, Drinking, Cursing, Drug Use, Heavy Flirting, Praise, Dirty Talk, Touching, Mention of Breakups and Heartbreak, Sadness. Smut: Kissing, Oral M!Receiving