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sykostyles · 1 month

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subject to change 1.0

wc: 6.4k summary: in which Y/N is a fairly inexperienced romance author, and Harry is a bookstore owner who happens to be a big fan. What happens when he offers her one night to experience some of the things she’s written about? part two

a/n: hi there! can you tell I'm ovulating? that is the only explanation I have for this one. big shouts to my mootite patootie @celestie0 for being a real girls girl and being my beta reader and personal hype woman! she read the whole thing and she doesn't even like Harry like that! Ellie is a real one. (check out her story kickoff rn!🔪)

cw: bdsm dynamics, impact play, breath play, spit play, cum play, anal, anal creampie, p in v, facefucking, mild shibari, bondage, use of sir, degradation, edging, spanking, choking, toy usage (vibrator, butt plug), overstimulation, there’s a lot okay reader be warned.

“Hey, Jenny!” Your voice echoed through the phone. Your publicist had a habit of calling when you were trying to get your daily rough drafting and editing done. Currently you’re staring at a manuscript of the follow up to your latest release, still unsure what to name it.

“Y/N, I’m glad I caught you! I had something come up for you to start the press tour for your newest release!” Jenny, your publicist excitedly squeals through the phone. Her tone makes you peel the phone away from your ear for a split second. You glance over to your right to look at the book in question. “Little Freak” was your latest release. Another smutty romance novel full of things you’d never actually experienced; only dreamed about. You were experienced enough, but always craved more. But your books were a hit and people were snatching them up left and right.

“A press tour? I’ve never done anything like that.” You respond, balancing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, tapping away at your computer

“I know, but it’s a signing! At this local shop downtown.” She explains, “The owner says they’d love to host in exchange for the publicity.”

“A signing?” you question. Never did you think a signing would be an event you’d have. ”People want to meet me?”

“Oh yeah, girl. Loads of people.” She chuckles. “Do you know how many people have sent you fan mail saying you gave them a sexual awakening with your books? So many people want to meet you.” Her response makes you physically laugh.

“Wow, I'm just writing about fantasies I have.” you chuckle, “But I’m so glad people are finding themselves.”

“But about this signing!” She continues. “It’s booked for next weekend, but I’ll be going this weekend to meet with the owner and talk about the setup. You can be there if you want or you can just leave that to me.” She continues rambling about anything and everything pertaining to the signing. Ending the call she gives you the address and you tell her you’d meet her there on saturday.

You loathed taking public transportation, and requesting a car for a short trip seemed pointless to you. So hoofing it, it was. Weaving your way through the city sidewalk, you’d located the shop rather easily. You were shocked you’d never heard of this place before. You’d been through here many times.

“Y/N, over here!” You hear Jenny yell from the corner of the store. It was really nice. Big floor to ceiling windows. Full mahogany bookshelves lining the walls and aisles. A giant seating area with plush chairs, couches and bean bags. A coffee and tea bar near the windows. String lights hang from the exposed rafters. The aroma of the store wafting scents of natural wood, patchouli and vanilla. There’s plants everywhere. The cash register tucked in the corner with a “Owners Picks” section right in front. Harry’s House in big yellow bubble letters on the wall.

Your eyes just scan everywhere before they fall on Jenny, standing next to a man. A man with emerald eyes, dark chestnut curls, glasses pushed atop his head, and a smile plastered on his face.

“I can’t believe this place has been hiding here,” you state, walking towards her and the man. “Hi, I’m Y/N,” you’re holding your hand out to him. He eyes you before slipping his hand in yours and giving you a delicate shake. Your skin heats up at his touch.

“M’ Harry. S’nice to meet you,” he claims, “I haven’t opened yet. Your signing will be my grand opening.” He states, letting your hand go. What was that?

“That explains why I’ve never seen it before. It’s beautiful in here,” you gesture all around. “It’s so cozy.” Why do you want him to touch you again?

“That was the vision when I was planning everything. When I heard your team was looking for a place to host a signing, I knew it would be perfect for a grand opening as well.” Keep talking.

“You’ve heard of me?” you ask in disbelief with your eyebrow raised. He’s looking at you as if he’s ready to eat you alive. Please do.

“I’m quite a big fan, actually.” he chuckles, “I’ve read all of your releases so far. But, we can discuss that after. Jenny, do show us what your plan is.” He says, leading you both over to the seating area.

After your sit down meeting with Harry and Jenny, Jenny says she’s heading back to the office to send out the email to your team with the plan. Harry asked you if you’d stay to continue your conversation from earlier and go over more specifics, to which you happily obliged although you felt a tinge of nervousness once you were left alone with him.

You eye him as he prepares some tea for the both of you, getting a really good look this time. Glancing at the furrow in his eyebrows as he focuses on the task at hand. The fabric of his white dress shirt pulled taught across his shoulders as he moves around the space; the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The skin you can see is littered with black ink. The way the veins in his arms start to give you unholy thoughts about how they’d feel wrapped around your neck–

“You’ll have to forgive my shortness earlier, I’m not used to men telling me they’re a fan of my work,” you chuckle, trying to steer your thoughts in a different direction.

“Ah, not to worry. It takes more than that to offend me,” he says, walking back to the couch you’re settled on; tea cups in hand. “But, indeed I am a huge fan,” he hands you one of the cups as he takes a seat on the other end of the couch. “I believe the first book of yours I read was Lingering Smoke,” he ponders for a moment, “Or no, it actually was Whipped & Chained,” his recall of your titles make you squirm.

“T-those are my two most popular titles,” you start to speak, praying he didn’t notice the way he made you stutter. He did. You clear your throat before continuing, “but my latest release is wiping the floor with both of those at this rate,” you say, regaining your composure. He offers you a smile. A salacious smile.

“I’m not surprised,” he says, eyeing the pink tinge on your cheeks, “I have read them all though,” he says, shifting his seating position on the couch to now fully face you, “they often give me,” his gaze boring into yours, “ideas,” he’s lifting his tea cup to his lips. You swear you feel a chill down your spine.

“Ideas?” you question, your eyes searching his. Are they darker?

“Ideas.” He affirms. “You should know though. You write about them.” He chuckles.

“I mean, I guess,” you shrug your shoulders, “I’m just writing fantasies I have,” you laugh, but he doesn’t.

“Fantasies? You mean you’ve never done those things? Felt those things?” He asks in disbelief.

You shake your head with a light laugh. “I seriously find that so hard to believe.”

“Please, my college boyfriend could never,” you chuckle, setting your tea cup on the coffee table. “I just drum up some ideas–as you so call them–and put it into a story. Nothing special.” He stares at you in disbelief again.

“I jus–wow. I honestly expected you to be super well versed in those aspects. Pardon my assumption,” he says, holding his hands up.

“I mean, I guess it’s a pretty fair assumption, so no offense taken. Apparently I’ve given people sexual awakenings according to Jenny,” you laugh making him laugh this time.

The awkward tension seems to dissipate with the shared laughter, but a different tension seems to linger. He seems so stone-like; like he only has one goal; and that goal is you. Truth be told, you’d happily oblige.

“Would you like to?” He asks, repositioning himself on the couch again, slightly closer to you.

“Like to?” you’re feigning ignorance. You know what he wants, but you're playing dumb.

“Experience those things.” He leans his arm over the back of the couch, taking in the obvious look of desire in your eyes.

“I mean, sure. Who wouldn’t?” You snort, looking over to him but he’s just staring at you. “Oh, you mean like, with you?” you ask slowly, still playing dumb.

He smiles that smile again, “Sure, why not?” He asks. “I’m game if you are.”

“Harry. Do you hear how crazy that sounds? We’ve known each other for half an hour.”

“So? We don’t have to see each other after. I don’t really do ‘feelings’ anyways.” he’s gesturing air quotes around feelings, his tone rather repulsed sounding. “This could be a one time thing. You get to experience some of the things you’ve written about, and I get my rocks off. A win/win situation if you ask me.” He says, gathering the tea cups and sauntering back over to the coffee station.

“You sound so romantic, Harry,” you chuckle. Maybe this wouldn’t be a terrible idea. The last hookup you had was less than thrilling. And here you have a very attractive man offering exactly what you’ve been looking for. Regardless if it’s for one night, you’re willing to try.

“Interested?” He asks, leaning against the counter behind him.

“Sure. Why not,” You respond, mimicking his words back to him.

You make a mutual agreement to meet up and converse every day over the next week to discuss specifics, what each other's limits are—Harry all but told you he had none—and to remind you that this was all about you and what you wanted to experience. He gave you homework of coming up with what exactly you wanted. Your mind races as you think about what you’d want to experience first. There are so many options!

He adored the look of mixed emotions on your face; the excitement, the apprehension. The enthusiasm in your voice but also the way you shied away when he asked you to list what you wanted, and how you wanted it. The way you sit on the couch in his bookstore with your legs crossed as you look down at the notebook in your lap. Ever the author; making a rough draft of these taboo acts you want this near stranger to do to you. Harry may not make it out of this alive if you keep looking at him with those eyes.

After your signing is when he’d bring your fantasies to life.

The spare key to his apartment was burning a hole in your hand as you made your way down the hall. You stood in front of the door a moment, contemplating one last time if this was what you wanted. He reminded you before you left the bookstore that there was no pressure. He would understand if he got home and you weren’t there. But you’re certain you want this. If nothing, you’ll get more fuel for your writing,

Once inside, you set his key on the counter before making your way to his bedroom so you could prepare for his arrival. Nerves are sneaking up on you but they’re overtaken by sheer excitement once you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the wall on the opposite side of his bed. You begin to undress, watching yourself in the mirror as you pull your dress down your shoulders, revealing the dark red lingerie set you wore for the occasion.

The sound of his front door opening causes your breath to catch in your throat. Finding your spot near the bed, your hands find the tops of your thighs as you kneel on the floor in anticipation of his arrival; eyes cast down like he directed. His footsteps draw closer, causing the butterflies to stir awake inside your gut. The bedroom door opens, but you keep your gaze down. The tops of his shoes come into your vision. “Eyes up.”

Your head snaps up in response, eyes meeting his dark gaze. That salacious grin being the star of the show. “Hmm,” he starts, sliding his thumb across your cheek as he takes hold of your chin, “Already so obedient,” he clicks his tongue, “I like that.” The mild praise makes you grin.

His free hand slides down to fumble with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking together sending shockwaves straight between your legs. You feel the leather being slung around your neck and he sinches the sides together, tightening around your throat.

Your breath hitches.

“Open,” he says. Your tongue immediately lulled out as you open your mouth, aiming to please him. You groan as a warm stream of spit falls onto your tongue and two of his fingers press down to smear it around the surface. “So pretty like this.”

A whimper escapes you in response.

“Do you remember your safewords?” You nod. “And what are you supposed to do if you’re unable to speak?” Reaching up, you tap his thigh three times. “What about if your wrists are bound?” You snap your fingers before resting your hand against your thigh again. Gurgling sounds fall from your lips as his fingers run over the back of your tongue. “Good girl,” he pushes a little further, “That’s a good girl,” he says as his fingers make their way down your throat, brushing against your gag reflex, causing you to gag slightly. “Ooh, a little training is needed I see,” he mocks.

Your core is on fire and he’s barely touched you. A few dirty words and his fingers in your throat and you’re ready to roll over and bark like a dog, Nevermind the fact that his belt is around your neck like a leash.

Whimpers leave you at his chastisement, making him grin. Spit rolls down your chin; your hands reach up instinctively to grip the front of his thighs. “No touching,” he reminds you, making you timidly retract them. “Do I need to restrict your hands already?” You try to shake your head in his hold to say no, causing the belt to tighten.

That was one of the only rules he gave you. “No touching, no kissing, and you have to ask me permission to cum.”

Tears burn in the seams of your eyes as he continues his exploration of the inside of your mouth; fingers prodigy at your gag reflex again. You cough and gag but he presses on just a little further until he feels you instinctively pull your head back. Harry withdraws his fingers as he watches you cough and heave. “Don’t know how you’re gonna take my cock, sweets,” he mocks you again, “you’re already a crying mess from two fingers.”

His words make you audibly groan. You want more. You need more. “Need it, sir,” you smile up at him.

“I know, pup,” he’s cradling your face. He taps your cheek with those same two fingers, telling you to open again. “You’ll get it,” he spits on your tongue once more, “Now, remember to breathe through your nose this time,” he says before he slides his fingers back in your mouth.

Your ankles are secured to the posts of his headboard; wrists hooked to the leather belt around your waist, and your head hangs over the edge of his bed. Harry’s hands roam your upper body, groping your breasts and pinching your perked nipples. His cock sliding in and out of your throat at an agonizingly slow speed; savoring the feeling of your tongue gliding along the underside of his shaft. “Fuck, sweets,” he groans. A hand sliding up to lightly grip the sides of your neck, “haah, feel that?” he asks, squeezing the sides where your throat bulges, “feel me deep in your throat?”

Drool pours from the sides of your lips; the wet squelching sounds of his cock gliding in and out of your throat is like music to his ears. “This what you wanted?” he asks, pulling himself from your mouth, tapping his length on your lips. You writhe before him, trying to catch your breath. He rubs the tip of his cock over the apple of your cheek, smearing the drool and precum across the surface. “Asked you a question, pet,” he says, giving an open-palmed smack to your right breast, making you yelp.

“Y-yes, sir,” you breathe out, “T-this is what I w-wanted.” You wish you could clench your thighs together to feel some kind of friction. His condescending tone has a rush of arousal pooling between your legs.

“Yeah?” he mocks, “Wanted your throat fucked like some cheap whore?” He slides back in your mouth. A whimper escapes your lips as he reaches the back of your throat. Steadying your breathing through your nose, you focused on the task at hand; keeping your tongue flat and your cheeks hollow. You’re squeezing your fists together, creating crescent shaped indents on your palms. It’s like you can already feel him everywhere. You can’t wait to actually feel him everywhere. “Just wanted me to have my way with you?” he slides one hand down between your legs and swipes two of his fingers through your folds, “Such a dirty girl. So wet for me already,” your hips involuntarily buck at the contact with your neglected core, making him chuckle before shoving your hips back down onto the bed.

“Hold it,” he demands as he stills his hips with the tip of his cock nestled in the back of your throat. Five. Ten. The seconds tick by as he tests your breath holding ability. Fifteen. Twenty. You flex your hands before clasping them back shut; Harry keeping a close eye on them lest you need to perform a safeword act. Twenty five. Thirty. “Good,” he commends as he pulls out and you struggle to catch your breath. “Very good, Pup,” he taps your cheek with his fingertips.

Harry maneuvers himself around the bed, grabbing the spool of rope on the floor before moving to settle on his knees between your legs. He frees your left ankle before taking hold of your hips and pulling you towards him, letting your head rest on the mattress. “How’re you feeling up there?” he asks, smoothing his hands up your legs, over your hips and tummy, stopping and rubbing slow circles.

“G-good, s-sir” you stammer out, still breathing deeply; flexing your hands to get the feeling back in them. You feel his hands grip under your knee, lifting your leg into a bend; foot flat on the mattress.

“Yeah?” he smirks, “What’s your color?” He grabs the spool of rope to his right, beginning to wrap the rope around your bent leg in a frog tie; the back of your calf is flush with the back of your thigh, forcing your leg to remain bent and open.

“Green,” rushes out before you even think about what he asked, you just want more.

Harry smiles at your response, finishing up the last bit on the knots. He runs the tips of his fingers over the rope before lifting himself on his knees to lean over you. “Good,” he smirks. Leaning forward, he braces his weight on one hand near your head. “Well just look at you,” he mocks. Your mascara is running, the lipstick you wore is smeared, and half dried patches of spit and precum litter your skin.

His other hand reaches up to lightly grip the sides of your face, turning your head from side to side in his hold as he really studies his handiwork. “Seems I’ve turned you into a little throat slut, huh?” His degrading words send shockwaves to your cunt. “But, let's see what else your holes are capable of,” He says with a firm smack to your cheek, causing your head to jerk to the left and a masochistic smile to form on your lips. Harry slides off the bed before appearing above you again, a blindfold in hand.

Your vision has been taken from you as well as your mobility. He has you exactly where he wants you; pliant and ready for him.

Harry settles between your legs again; teasing touches linger up your legs towards where you want him most. You feel two fingers spread your lips apart. “Hmm, such a wet little pussy. Were you feeling neglected down here while I was fucking your face?” he teases. You whimper in response, making him grin. Ghosting his fingertips over your sensitive bundle of nerves, he slides two of his fingers between your folds before dipping them inside and curving them upwards. A strangled moan falls from your lips. “Let me hear you,” he’s scissoring his fingers in and out of you, “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”

“G-god, sir. S-so good,” you whimper. “N-need more, please,” your skin begins to heat up; a thin layer of sweat forming. Chills follow; goosebumps littering the surface

“Oh, I’ll give you more,” he chuckles at you, bringing his free hand down in a firm smack on your clit, making you jolt. Reaching to his left, he picks up a wand vibrator, sets it against your clit and turns it on the lowest setting; gradually turning it higher in tandem with his fingers. He’s working you up to the peak of the mountain, steadily keeping you on your toes.

“Please, please, please, can i cum, sir?”

“No,” he’s retracting his fingers and the wand as he watches you whine and writhe before him.

“Hnng, sir, please,” you beg him. “Put it back, please,” Tears begin brimming in your eyes at the loss of stimulation.

“Silence,” he slaps down on your clit again making you yelp. “You cum when I say you can,” his tone firm, “Do you not remember that part of our conversations?” his hand comes down on the bundle again. Warm tears start dampening the blindfold held against your face. You nod your head. Smack. Again. “Words,” he prompts.

“I-I r-remember, Sir,” your voice wobbly, “I’m s-sorry,”

“I’ll bet you are. Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure it sticks in your empty little head,” another smack follows.

He’s got you on your knees now, left leg still frog tied and the other reattached to the bedpost, your back in a full arch. Your hands are stretched above your head; wrists tied together with leftover rope. His hands are anchored to your hips as he drives his cock in and out of your cunt. “Sh-shit,” he grunts, “this pussy feels so good; sucking me in like there’s no tomorrow,” One of his hands glides down to tickle the bottom of your foot, causing you to jolt and squirm in his hold. He grins at your attempt to escape the sensations.

“Hnngh, sir,” you groan, turning your head against the sheets. “Feels. So. Fucking. Good,” each word sounding pointed with each thrust of his hips. Your body is addicted to the dopamine rush; still holding on to the feeling of every orgasm he ripped from you with the vibrator before he decided you were ready for his cock. But not before he nestled a dark red, heart shaped plug into your ass to prep for later. You feel so deliriously full with both holes being stretched.

Harry reaches up, gathering your hair in one of his hands before tugging you up to be flush with his front, keeping up the pace of his hips.

“Know it does, pet,” he switches his hold, gripping the front of your throat with one hand as he slides the other one down between your legs to rub fast circles on your clit. “Can feel you clenching down on me like a damn vice,” His grip tightens on your throat, his fingers speed up as you turn into a crying mess from his touch..

“G-gna cum,” you stammer, “P-please, let me cum, s-sir,”

“Cum,” he stills his hips against your ass, but continues his ministrations against your clit causing you to convulse against him’ your abdomen contracting with each wave of pleasure.

“S’too much, sir” you cry out, “Please! Too much!” you wiggle in his grasp. He squeezes the sides of your throat a little tighter as a warning.

“You know what to say to get me to stop,” he reminds you, continuing to massage the abused bundle.

You choke out a whine in response, your body trembling with red hot pleasure. He knew you didn’t want him to stop. You knew what words to use to get him to slow down.

“Dirty girl. You’ll take anything I give you, huh?” he chastises you, his words scratch an itch in your brain and send you into a second orgasm. He continues to pull delicious sounds from you; all the sounds he’s become obsessed with. Tossing you back down onto the bed, he braces himself on either side of your head as he begins to piston his hips into you, fucking you into the mattress and siphoning every ounce of your orgasm he can out of you. “Such a good little slut, creaming all over this cock.”

His hips begin to slow as you come down and he runs one of his hands down the expanse of your back, before pushing and pulling on the plug.

“Oh, f-fuck, sir. That feels s-so go–ood,” your voice muffled by the comforter. “W-want you in my ass, sir. Please,” you say, turning your face against the mattress so he could hear you.

“Yeah? Wanna feel me stretch that tiny ass open?” he starts to pull on the plug, your hips jerk in reaction.

“Mhm, need it.” you mewl. “Please, sir,”

“I’ll give it to you, pet, don’t worry,” he says as he slowly pulls himself out of you. Harry stands from the bed before pulling you towards him. Maneuvering you to lay on your side with your back and butt facing him as he stands behind you. He smooths one hand up your side, groping your breasts, sliding further along to grip your chin. “Open,” he commands, just like earlier. Opening your mouth, you invite two fingers inside. “Suck.” You happily oblige; wrapping your tongue around his appendages. His other hand reaches down between you to grasp the edges of the plug as he eases it out, toying with you in the process.

You whine at the empty feeling, but you’re too focused on his fingers in your mouth to really care. Feeling his free hand swipe between your cheeks, he pushes a finger inside, eliciting a gasp from your lips. He takes the opportunity to push his fingers further into your mouth and add a second finger into your ass; slowly pumping the two fingers in and out of the tight ring of muscles. Groans fall from you at the strange intrusion; but you’re craving more.

“M-more,” you moan, voice strained from his fingers pressing on your tongue.

“Didn’t anyone teach you not to speak with your mouth full?” He sneers at you, retracting his fingers from your mouth before colliding his fingertips with your cheek.

You smile.

“S-sorry, sir. Feels s–so good. N-need more,” you’re pushing your hips back against the thrust of his fingers.

“Are you a little anal whore now too?” He chastises, but adds a third finger anyways, stretching you as best he can.

“Mhm,” you whine. “Want your cock. Please, sir.”

“Yeah, know you do,” he says as he withdraws his fingers slowly. He spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around the head of his cock, smearing the spit over the tip. He aligns himself with your tighter hole before beginning the tight press inside. “Just breathe,”

“Ngh, fuck,” you groan as he slowly inches inside. “Sh–shit,” your body tenses at the intrusion. It hurts so good. The stretch. The fill. Your head is spinning. More. More. More!

“Mm, such a tight ass. Pulling me in so good,” he continues his shallow thrusts, easing his way inside until he’s fully sheathed. “T-there, we go.”

You’d never been comfortable enough to go beyond a plug in your ass with previous partners. Perhaps knowing you won’t see Harry after is what made you so feral for it this time around. You can’t describe the level of fullness you feel right now. His hands are gripped on your hip, thumbs digging into the supple flesh as he pulls you back to meet each thrust of his hips.

“S-sir,” you whisper out to him, your voice gone hoarse from screaming out in pleasure.

“What, pet?” he squeezes your hip, “you need something?”

“C-can you touch m-me, please?”

“This still isn’t enough for you? Such a greedy girl,” he brings his hand firmly down on your ass. Bringing his hand back, he lifts your leg from behind, tucking two fingers into your cunt; curling them to prod at that spot.

“Oh, f–uck y-es, right– right there, sir,” your sobs of pleasure are going straight to his cock. “Pl-please, please don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says with a smug grin etched onto his lips. “You want more?”

“Y-yes, please! Please, sir, more!” You aren’t sure what more he could give you but you’ll take whatever it is. You feel his fingers leave your cunt and his hips come to a halt against your ass. The sound of the wand vibrator coming to life fills your ears. He presses it against your sensitive clit, then tucks the end of the wand under the rope around your leg; keeping it firmly in place. You cry at the sensation. His fingers enter your pussy again, eliciting an animalistic like moan from your throat. “Oh–hngh–oh my god, sir, holy fuck.”

“That’s it,” he smacks down on your hip with his free hand, “Such a dirty little whore, just wants all of her holes filled like the girls she writes about in her dirty books.”

Your whimpers fill the air along with the sounds of sticky, squelching flesh and Harry’s grunts. You’ve never felt so full and empty at the same time in your life. The only thing you’re able to focus on is how good he’s making you feel. He’s kept true to his word; this was all about you and what you wanted. Every fantasy you told him over the week you met up with him at his book store, he brought to life. All of your senses are on fire, but all you can think about is how badly you want to cum.

“Sir, g’na cum! Please let me cum!” you scream. His fingers continue their assault on your g-spot, as he reaches down with his free hand to switch the vibrator to its highest setting before taking a firm grip on your throat and squeezing; sending you over the peak.

“Cum for me,” he demands, pulling the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life from you. A wet feeling forms between your legs and you hear Harry groan behind you. “Ohh, there’s a good girl. C’mon and keep squirting all over me, sweets,” his praises go straight between your legs as more moans and pleas escape from your throat. His fingers work overtime in your pussy; pulling every ounce of your arousal from you. The incessant buzzing of the wand on your clit puts stars in your vision and the feeling of his cock pounding in and out of your ass is the cherry on top. A second wave rushes over your senses, your body convulsing against Harry’s. “There she is,” he coos, “such a good, dirty girl.”

Harry eases his fingers from your core, and switches the wand off before untangling it from the rope and tosses it to the side. He grips your hip again with both hands as he pistons himself in and out of you, finally chasing his own orgasm. “Sh–shit, pet. Gonna cum. Where do you want it?” he pants out, digging his thumbs into the plush of your ass cheek.

“Pl–please cum in my ass, sir. Want it so bad,” you whine out, “Need it, please sir!”

“Calm down, gonna give you what you want, sweets.” His hips begin to stutter, grunts and groans fall from his lips along with cries of your name. He pushes in as far as he can as he empties himself into you–”Fuck, just like that, pet. S-so good”–before retracting his hips and pressing in again; fucking his release back into you.

“So, was that everything you wanted?” Harry asked as he unties the knots that were keeping your leg bent. You’re lying flat on the mattress, a warm washcloth in your hand as you wipe your face.

“Mhm, and then some,” you smile at him.

“Yeah? Happy to be of service,” he chuckles, beginning to help stretch and massage the muscles in your leg. You wince at the feeling of his fingers kneading the more tender areas. His calloused hands rub and dig the knots left behind. “I’ll take that,” he says, holding his hand out for the washcloth. He rubs it over your sensitive areas, not pressing too hard; really taking his time cleaning up his mess. “I’m going to run you a bath, and make you something to eat,” he stands from the bed, tossing the washcloth into the hamper before disappearing into the bathroom.

Your thoughts begin to take you hostage as he fiddles around in the bathroom. You’d just let basically a total stranger do unspeakable acts to you, and now you’re about to take a bath in his tub. He’s being sweet to you now, making sure you’re comfortable. But that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t want to see you after today.

Upon his return, he catches himself smiling at your naked form laying across his bed. Clearing his throat, he strides over to you and extends his hand. “Upsie daisy, sweets,” he chuckles at the pained look on your face after you take his hand and stand at full height. “How do those legs feel?” he teases.

“Shut up,” you stick your tongue out at him, “I just went through a lot,” you laugh with him.

“Indeed you did,” he smiles sweetly at you. A completely different kind of smile than he’d ever given you before. When he looked at you at the bookstore, it was like a hunter eyeing his prey. Now he’s looking at you as if you’re the reason the sun rises and sets every day. You’re trying really hard not to think too hard into it.

“He’s just being nice after figuratively beating the shit out of me,” you think to yourself.

“Are you going to get in with me?” you ask once you reach the edge of the tub. Your big doe eyes looking up at him so sweetly as the words leave your lips. He’d never done something like that before. He doesn’t do the sweet stuff. But with the way you’re looking at him now, how could he say no?

“D-do you want me to?” he asks quietly.

You nod softly in response, “If I only get one night with you, I’d like to make the most of it,” you turn to step into the tub.

Harry’s heart pangs in his chest. He nods slowly and swallows the lump in his throat. Leaning forward, you allow him enough room to slip in behind you before you lean back against his chest. His arms warily make their way around your body as he pulls you back as close to him as possible.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” leaves you before you can even think about it.

“You’re asking if I had a good time making you bend and break at my will? Yeah I think I did,” he says, making you laugh.

“Hey, I just wanted to make sure,” you say tilting your head to the side to look up at him. “I had a great time by the way.” you chuckle before turning back around.

“I’m glad. You did a great job,” He picks up the fresh washcloth he’s gotten for you, and dunks it in the water. “May I?” he asks, gesturing towards you.

“Sure,” you whisper, your cheeks turning a soft pink at the praise. He rubs the washcloth over the expanse of your chest and tummy; up your arms and down your legs, really taking his time helping you feel relaxed. “Thank you, Harry. For today.” you feel yourself lean into his hold.

“My pleasure, Y/N," he smiles against your temple.

“You sure you have everything?” Harry asks as he helps you put your jacket on, pulling your hair from underneath for you.

“I had everything the last three times you asked,” you giggle at him, the sound is like music to his ears. He’d do anything to hear it for just a little bit longer. He said he could do just one night. He swore he could. But why does the thought of you walking out his door make him feel like his chest is going to cave in?

“Just want to be sure,” He smiles that soft smile at you again, making your cheeks heat up.

How dare he.

“Please, stop looking at me like that,” you whisper, unable to hide your discomfort anymore.

“How am I looking at you?” his voice quiet and sad.

“L-Like you actually care about me.” tears collect in your waterline, “You said so yourself, this was a one time thing. So, please, just stop looking at me like that. It’s very confusing.” The words poured out of you before you could stop them. He just stares at you with sad eyes. “T-Thank you again, Harry. I really appreciate your help.” You say, your voice shaking as you avoid eye contact. He’s studying your face; The hurt etched across your features. The same hurt he felt in his chest, but refused to show. “Good luck with your store,” you say as you pull the door shut behind you, leaving him in the silence of his empty apartment.

c/n: oh my what a ride, right? this is not the last of our brooding pair. you'll see the ending of their story soon!

please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed!

#harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry edward styles #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry x you #harry x reader #harry styles x you

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drchucktingle · 22 days

Note

Where is the best place to preorder Bury Your Gays? What is of most benefit to you?

i know other types of media have given the trot of preorders a bad way, but for publishing books i cannot even begin to tell you buckaroos HOW IMPORTANT PREORDERS ARE WHEN SUPPORTING AUTHORS YOU CARE ABOUT. i mean HECK preorders are so important i even wrote three dang tinglers about it

basically preorders are what publishers use to determine how much financial backing they will give a book for advertising and book tours and all that, but that is only PART of this way. BOOK STORES also use a preorder equation to determine how much shelf space to give a book. your preorder does not just mean YOU get a book for yourself, but basically means you are making room for someone ELSE to get the book in a store by putting another copy on a shelf

that is why it is better to put in a preorder instead of just saying 'oh i will just remember to buy myself a copy on the day it comes out'

LASTLY preorders are how books get onto bestseller lists because all the orders leading up to your book release date COUNT AS FIRST WEEK SALES. something like new york times bestseller list is close to impossible trot without preorders

think of it like a handsome surfing bigfoot trying to ride a wave. it is one thing to actually ride on the wave, but what matters most is that initial moment when you GET UP THERE and actually have the strength to pull yourself up when the wave starts. PREORDERS are the climbing up part

NOW LETS GET DOWN TO YOUR SPECIFIC QUESTION

first of all ANY preorder is great. what matters most as far as bestseller lists is actually FORMAT. the best thing you can order for an author is not ebook or audiobook, it is HARDCOVER. personally i am an audiobook buckaroo myself so please understand you should order whatever format you want, but technically speaking the answer is HARDCOVER

next is WHERE do you order. this answer is pretty dang cool actually. the best place to order for the sake of author is your LOCAL INDIE BOOKSTORE. if you MUST order at a big timer website that is fine, but many bestseller lists are weighted towards indie bookstores

so to sum it up. the technical BEST WAY to support chuck with 'bury your gays' is to PREORDER a HARDCOVER from an INDIE BOOKSTORE.

thank you for your question but before you go trotting along i would like to add one more thing

all art is important. when we create things they serve as stepping stones for us to move along our journey as artists and creators on this timeline. i have so much love for every book i have made, from POUNDED IN THE BUTT BY MY OWN BUTT to CAMP DAMASCUS

but i have to say with deep sincerity in my way, BURY YOUR GAYS is something special. i absolutely believe that if you care about fandom, or creation, or love, or fanfiction, or supernatural, or the future of media, or asexual buckaroos, or gay buckaroos, or bi buckaroos or any queer buckaroos, you will love this book. i promise buckaroo

it is the best thing i have ever written, and i think it is going to bend this timeline in incredible ways. i would like you to trot with me into the future, since we have already trotted this far together. i cannot say this enough: this one is special, and the timelines we create from here are going to make the whole dang world look up in surprise and say 'where the heck did that come from?'

so if you are even CONSIDERING preordering, take a moment a do it.

if you are one of those buckaroos who says 'chuck tingle is my favorite author ive never read' then now is your moment

lets trot buckaroos. thank you for reading and thank you for constantly proving to me that love is real

preorder BURY YOUR GAYS here

#love is real #bury your gays #buckaroo lifestyle

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ms-demeanor · 2 months

Note

This is regarding your post involving making friends. I have had a spectacular amount of failures in meetup groups, particularly involving men from multiple meetup groups trying to take advantage of me or using me. In addition to that, the other members of the groups tend are often quite rude. Also, many meetups in my area tend to fall into one of the following categories: professional seminar, mommy & me, or the other members are double my age or older. What would you advise?

Volunteering - find something you care about and see if there is a local volunteer opportunity; you might want to look into food banks or mutual aid projects.

Crafting - this will likely be an older crew, but making friends with older people is cool honestly.

Sports - see if there's a kickball league or some other variety of low-key sport that you can sign up for.

Get super into the local music scene. Go to bar shows, go to basement shows, go to backyard shows. If you go to places where they have local music and hang out a bunch you will get to know local music people eventually, which includes both people in bands and people interested in bands.

Become a regular at your local library. Go once a week at the same time of day and you'll start to get to know people.

Become a regular at something else local. If you go to the same coffee shop three times a week for a few months and are polite to the employees you will probably eventually have friends among the people there; even if you do this by walking around the neighborhood park at the same time of day you will start getting to know the park regulars people love habits and if you can become a chill part of their daily scenery they will eventually want to investigate further.

Start your own club of some kind. Maybe start a book club for a particular genre of book that you like, or start a movie group where you meet up to see a movie together twice a month. You can post things like this on meetup websites or facebook, but you can also make fliers to put up in places that you think people you might find interesting would hang out.

Join a gym and go regularly. Sometimes a random person you see all the time in a gym can go from being a reliable on-the-spot spotter to a good friend.

Take a class locally. See if your town has a community center that offers cooking classes or computer classes or any kind of classes even things you already know. I keep making jokes about improv but improv people are great; see if you can take an impov class. See if your local music store offers music classes (I made weirdly good friends with the folks at the music store where I took vocal lessons; this was a pleasant surprise!)

When you try any of these places make friendly smalltalk with the people you encounter and express interest in them. If you are speaking to employees, make sure you're giving them lots of conversational outs because attempting to befriend people who are working can feel like you're cornering them, I'd actually say don't try to befriend the employees at a business unless you go there and they attempt to befriend you, however as someone who worked in coffee shops for ten years if someone randomly started showing up for six hours a week I would almost certainly have gotten to a friendly shoot-the-shit level with them within a month; if you go out among people who are sociable and are around them enough sometimes the sociable people go "aha! new friend sighted!" and do the hard work for you, but you do have to go to places to let yourself be found by the sociable ones.)

I do not, generally speaking, use meetup groups as a generic thing as much as I look into what groups exist locally that I am interested in. If a local game store is running a weekly Magic tournament, that's a better place to meet people in my opinion than a one-time bowling event.

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lightvixxen · 8 months

Text

His housewife.

I GOT THE IDEA OF BEING SPENCERS LIL HOUSEWIFE AND I HAD TO WRITE ABOUT IT

summary: after Spencer has been away on a weeklong case you decide to make him dinner, which leads to him calling you his housewife and absolutely refusing to admit it.

WC: 2278

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI, this is pretty vanilla ngl, kinda soft dom! Spencer Reid, housewife kink, breeding kink (How did that happennnn), lingerie.

You hummed around the kitchen, you looked at the time and smiled to yourself. It was 5:30pm, meaning that in thirty minutes your husband, Spencer Reid, would walk through the apartment's door. If they weren’t pulled away on a last minute case. And you were praying that wouldn’t be the case tonight.

The BAU had already been gone on a week-long case, and they just got back last night. You barely got to spend any time with your husband before the poor thing fell asleep on your couch. You missed him desperately, it was always hard, with his job. There was always the looming possibility that he would be pulled away from you for weeks on end, leaving you to your own devices.

Though for tonight, you had made a nice dinner,making use of the recipe you had gotten from Rossi when you and Spencer had married. You smiled to yourself, realizing just how much of a housewife you looked like. You worked down at a local coffee shop, Spencer's salary was surprisingly enough to keep you both comfortable but you needed something to fill the lonely days he wasn’t with you. Besides, extra money never hurt anyone, you used your paycheck for luxury items for both you and spence, while he went to keep you in the apartment.

You set the table then walked to the living room, which was closest to the door and you waited for Spencer's return. You laughed at yourself when you realized that you were akin to a dog waiting for its owner to return but that's how you felt.

The second you heard the door unlock you were jumping up from your spot on the couch, the book in your hands immediately forgotten, Spencer wasn’t even through the door before you were pouncing on him, You jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as you kissed him senseless.

“Well- mmf- Hello- mm~ to you too.” Spencer's arms held you up as he walked through the threshold of your apartment, kicking the door shut.

“Missed you.” you mumbled, fingers tangling in his wild hair, you captured him in a desperate kiss, making sure you hadn’t fallen asleep waiting for him to arrive.

“Missed you too, my darling.” Spencer smiled softly, letting you love on him, it was definitely welcomed, especially after being away from you for so long. As he breathed the air around him in he noticed something,

“Did you cook dinner?” You nodded excitedly,

“I finally put the recipe Rossi gave to us at the wedding to good use! I swear I need a whole cookbook of that man's recipes-” You continued to ramble as Spencer put you down, his arms growing tired, you took hold of one of his hands as you led him into the kitchen.

Spencer couldn't help but look at you lovingly, you had been home all day, run to the grocery store because he knew you did not have the ingredients for the recipe Rossi gave to you on hand. And then, you slaved over the stove for god knows how long to make him dinner for when he got home.

He couldn’t help the flutter in his chest when he sat down at the table with you, a plate full of food already waiting for him. It was so domestic and he absolutely adored it.

“My little housewife…” he mumbled, before digging into the food you had presented before him, moaning at the taste, coming home to his drop dead gorgeous wife jumping into his arms, then eating the delicious food she prepared is definitely what he needed after the week he had.

You looked up at him from the food you had been eagerly waiting to actually get your hands on and eat,

“What was that babe?” you asked, you had caught a little of him said, ‘my’ and ‘house’ being the only things you managed to makeout, Spencer could be extremely quiet when he wanted.

Spencer looked up from his respectful plate and shook his head,

“Hm? Nothing, it’s not important.”

“No, no, no, what did you say?”

Spencer smiled sheepishly before getting the brilliant idea of stuffing his face full of food to avoid admitting to you that he had called you his housewife, he wasn’t sure what your reaction would be, despite being with you for five years and him being a profiler it was always hard to gauge your reactions. He blames the fact he’s wildly in love with you, it acts as some sort of shield from his profiling skills. And he was just too fucking embarrased to actually admit it.

You huff realizing you're not gonna get it out of him while he has something to change the subject with.

After dinner you had decided to watch a movie, cuddled into Spencer's side on the couch. You had put on a horror movie, which you definitely were not paying attention to, and you doubt Spencer was either, you were just basking in the knowledge you were next to each other, instead of being miles apart.

You glanced down at his watch realizing it was close to midnight.

“Shit, it’s almost midnight.” You said, moving to get up. Spencer moves his arm that was slung over your shoulder.

“Gonna get ready for bed?” he asks you, and you nod, standing up.

“Yeah but I'm probably not gonna fall asleep for another few hours.” Your husband nods in understanding,

“I’ll be in there in a little bit” You nod again smiling, leaning down to peck Spencer on the lips before you move towards your shared bedroom. You were in the bathroom that connected to your bedroom when Spencer came in. You were brushing your hair, not wanting to deal with the unbearable knots that form in the morning.

You picked out a silky babydoll nightgown, it was purple, and just so happened to be Spencer's favorite nightgown that you owned. You were going to get what Spencer said out of him whether he likes it or not.

“Hey Spence…” you call, getting his attention, he was already in pajamas reading a book in the bed, like usually is.

“Yes?” he calls back, turning his attention away from the book he had in his hands. Before dropping it to the side entirely. “Really? The nightgown?” He asks, eyes scanning you up and down.

“What do you mean the nightgown…?” Spencer smirks at you.

“Sweetheart, you only wear that nightgown on our anniversary or when you really want to get something out of me.”

“Well…not my fault it works getting information out of you.” You cross your arms under your breasts, the nightgown already accentuates your curves, along with your breasts, other than the color that was the reason why it was Spencer's favorite, it showed off his favorite parts of you.

He groaned when he realized what you were doing.

“That's why it works, you're the definition of temptation when you wear it.”

You smirk, walking towards the bed while swaying your hips, Spencer's eyes were trained on you, you knew exactly how to get what you wanted out of him. You slowly slid yourself onto his lap, making sure you kept eye contact with him. Once you were fully settled onto his lap Spencer attempted to put his hands on your waist but you caught his wrists before he could.

“Nu-uh no touching, you get to touch when you tell me what you said earlier.” you tell him, and he groaned again.

“Evil woman, you know how to exactly get what you want from me, don’t you?” You smile at him, “Spill it, doctor Reid”

“God you are evil.” Spencer smiles. “I uh- I called you my housewife…just you cooking, waiting for me to come home…it's so domestic, the thought just slipped out.” You hummed, leaning down to kiss up his neck, leaving bruises in your wake, you released his wrists in favor of balancing yourself on his chest. His hands went to rest on your waist.

“That's it? Not really embarrassing.”

“You weren’t even meant to hear it.” Spencers hands moved from your waist to your ass, and buried his face in your neck. “I really should burn this nightgown, you get the upper hand too easily.”

You gasp when you feel his hands squeeze your ass “I’m more surprised you haven’t ripped it yet-!” you squeal when he changes the position, swapping you so you're on your back and he’s towering over you, he places his knee so it's in between your thighs.

“I’ve definitely thought about it…” He mumbles into your neck, his hands sliding the bottom of the nightgown up to bunch around your hips, his knee presses into your center, you have no doubts he can feel a damp spot in your panties.

“Spencer…” you whimpered, feeling his lips trace the column of your neck, he liked to take his time with you, especially after you decided to tease him.

He tugged the nightgown down to free your breasts, thanking the heavens that it didn’t take too much effort. He moved his head so he was leveled with your breasts, his mouth wrapping around one of your nipples. You shivered at the sensation. Spencer was obsessed with your boobs, he could spend hours just sucking on them if you’d let him.

His tongue circled your nipple, and his other hand came up to pinch and pull at the other, soft moans flying out of your mouth at your husband's ministrations. Spencer spent a generous amount of time on one before he moved to give his attention to the other, giving both of your breasts equal treatment.

“Spencer please, don’t tease-”

“Baby, you're the one who decided to tease me first.” He tells you, breaking away from your breasts, deciding he was done anyway. He rucks up the bottom of the nightgown, exposing the matching lace panties.

“Why do you even bother to wear panties with this thing, you should know I get them off of you the second you give me the chance” He pulls the lace down your legs, flinging them somewhere in the room.

You shrug, “I don’t know either sometimes.”

Spencer pulls down his pajama pants and boxers enough to let his cock free. And you can feel your mouth water at the sight. Spencer had probably the most perfect cock you’ve seen, He was long but not to the point it was painful, and he had the perfect amount of girth to just to make you feel full.

He drags the head of his cock through your lips, coating it in your wetness, letting it catch on your clit a few times. You throw your head back and moan.

“Been thinking about this all week, been thinking about you all week” You tell him, moaning again when he finally sinks himself into your hole.

“Yeah?” He smirks, starting to slowly thrust in and out, he would pull out enough to where just the tip stayed in you, before slamming himself back into you. “What were you thinking about sweetheart?”

“Just- fuck- this, you, your cock filling me up, filling me with your cum- Fuck!” He made a calculated thrust into your g-spot, he can find and play with your body with terrifying precision.

“Really? Want me to fill you up, darling? Maybe we should try for a baby this time, hm? That way I can just keep you plugged up all day…” Spencer's thrusts became more steady, he kept a harsh rhythm, making sure to hit your g-spot with each one.

You moaned loudly, nodding quickly.

“Spencer! Please, shit, yes!”

“Yeah? Want to make me a daddy? Be my cute, pregnant, housewife?” he asked, and you nodded, his thrusted were deep and quick, he knew exactly how to force you close to the edge, paired with the fact you refuse to get off without him, he had you hurtling to the edge quicker than you’d like.

“Spencer, I’m gonna cum, please, please!”

“I am too sweetheart, just hold it a little longer, I’m so close baby” Spencer buried his face into your neck, he got vocal when he got close, and he liked using your body as a way to muffle his own moans.

“Spence no- Wanna hear you please-” Spencer lifted his head, putting his forehead against yours, moans falling from both of your mouths.

“I’m so close, you gonna cum with me baby?” One of Spencer's hands moved in between your bodies, his thumb rubbing tight circles into your clit. You nodded, feeling the tension tightening in your stomach.

“Shit- Fuck, please hurry Spence, I don’t know how much longer I can hold it!” You threw your head back into your pillows, eyes screwed shut, focusing on not cumming too early. Spencer laced his hands through yours, hips desperately chasing his own release.

“Now, fuck, cum now!” His words were enough to have the tension in your stomach snap, your cunt spazzing and tightening around his cock. Your orgasm is what tipped him over the edge, with one last thrust Spencer buried himself deep inside you, filling you up with his cum.

After a few minutes all that was left in the room was the sound of your rugged breathing, you’re pretty sure you’ve ascended to heaven, after a week of being pent up and how powerful your orgasm was you’re confident that it killed you.

Spencer had collapsed on top of you, catching his breath. He looked up at you, resting his head on your chest. You smiled back, hands coming up to run your fingers through his hair.

“Welcome home, Spence.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #Spencer reid x afab!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #lightvixxens spencer

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fatecantstopme · 2 months

Text

Unattached Drifter Christmas

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: Dean decides he’d rather spend Valentine’s Day curled up on the couch with you.

Warnings: Cursing, use of pet names. SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), oral (M & F receiving)

A/N: in honor of Valentine’s Day, I gift you an adorable Dean Winchester fluffy smutty delight. 💜

"What are your plans, Sammy?" you asked from your perch on the kitchen counter.

"I happen to have a date," he replied with a smirk.

"Oooo with whom?"

"Just a nice local girl I met at the library last week."

"Sam Winchester and the nice local girl...sounds like a book I'd read," you teased.

He rolled his eyes and threw a dish towel at you. "What about you?"

"I have an excellent night planned," you confirmed. "Since Dean will be out cruising for ladies to go home with, I figured I could steal the Dean Cave for the night. I'm ordering a pizza, watching scary movies, eating a shit ton of junk food, and washing it all down with a bottle of wine."

Sam laughed. "Now that sounds like a party."

"Someone say 'party'?" Dean asked as he entered the kitchen.

"We were just discussing our Valentine's Day plans," Sam responded.

"You celebrating Unattached Drifter Christmas?" you asked in a teasing tone.

Dean shrugged and grabbed a beer out of the fridge. "Nahh, I think I'm gonna sit this year out. I'd rather stay home."

"Awww man," you grumbled.

Dean looked at you with an arched brow. "Is that a problem?"

"No," you answered quickly. "It just puts a bit of a wrench in my plans."

"And what are your plans?" he asked.

"I was gonna take over the Dean Cave for the night--scary movie marathon, pizza, snacks, alcohol."

"Pizza, snacks, and alcohol is my holy trinity," Dean said with a wide smirk. "Would you be opposed to me crashing your party?"

"You hate scary movies," you said.

"Yeah, but you love them," he countered. "I'm the crasher, so I'm not gonna demand a change in movie genre."

You smiled at him. "Alright, then you can come. I'll even supply beer."

Dean winked at you. "The way to my heart," he teased.

You rolled your eyes and hopped off the counter. "Oh, did Sam mention he has a date tonight?"

Sam shot you a look and you hurried out of the kitchen, laughing quietly as Dean started to tease his brother.

"A date, baby bro? Look at you!"

**********

You'd sent Dean to pick up the pizza while you set up the Dean Cave for the evening's festivities. You'd made a run to the grocery store earlier in the day to pick up yours and Dean's favorite snacks, as well as a decent supply of wine and beer.

You were more than satisfied with your selections, but for some reason you felt anxious. Well...to be honest, you knew the reason. You hadn't expected Dean to be staying home and you certainly didn't count on him joining you for the evening.

You'd known Dean for a little over five years and in that time you'd grown to care about him deeply, more than you should. He was a genuinely good person underneath his gruff exterior, a facade he had dropped with you long ago.

If you were completely honest with yourself, you knew you loved him, but you would never say anything to him. You knew him too well. Dean had lost virtually everyone he'd ever loved and he blamed himself for their deaths. He avoided romantic relationships like the plague because he didn't want to add another name to the body count. It was hard enough for him to bring you into his life as a friend, and there was no way he would risk anything more than that.

So of course, you kept your mouth shut, hiding your feelings from both Winchesters. The only person that knew how you felt was Jody and she would take that secret to the grave if you wanted her to. You would rather have Dean as a friend than lose him completely.

You tossed your favorite oversized blanket onto the couch with a sigh. You were trying not to think about curling up next to Dean for a movie marathon on freaking Valentine's Day of all days. You knew it was the romantic nature of the day itself that had your stomach in knots. You'd watched movies and binge ate with Dean countless times before without issue, but there was an added intensity to this instance simply because it happened to be February 14th.

You also couldn't help but wonder why Dean wasn't planning on going out. You couldn't remember the last time he neglected to celebrate 'Unattached Drifter Christmas' as he'd always called it. In fact, Dean hadn't been out to pick up a girl in weeks...you were struggling to recall the last time Dean didn't decline a girl's invitation to come home with her.

"I've brought sustenance!" The man in question spoke from behind you, startling you out of your thoughts.

"Jesus!" you yelped.

Dean chuckled lightly. "Sorry, sweetheart. Didn't mean to scare you."

You shot him a look that clearly said 'I wasn't scared', which only caused him to laugh harder.

You tossed a piece of popcorn at him and headed towards the door. "I'm gonna change into comfy clothes before we get started."

"Good idea," he agreed, placing the pizza down on the table before following you out the door.

Five minutes later, you came back into the Dean Cave wearing your most comfortable leggings and an oversized worn out band tee you'd had for at least a decade. You'd opted to forgo a bra for comfort's sake and you hoped Dean wouldn't notice.

Dean was already sitting on the couch, wearing his gray sweatpants and a plain black tee. It was almost offensive how hot he looked in that outfit--no man had any right to look that good in sweatpants.

When you walked in, Dean's gaze traveled from the TV to you. You noticed his pupils dilate slightly as he looked at you, but you figured that was due to the change in light.

You plopped down on the couch beside him, leaving plenty of space between the two of you to avoid any awkwardness. "Ready to be terrified?" you teased.

Dean groaned softly. "You know I'm only watching these because you love them."

You grinned and snagged the remote from him. "They're so good!"

"Our life is a scary movie," he grumbled. "I don't know why you like these."

"I think that's actually why I like them. Our real lives are full of the kind of shit that would make people lose their minds, but for us, it's just another Tuesday. These movies are either cheesy as hell or have an exaggerated version of a monster we have hunted and killed--so it becomes entertaining instead of scary."

Dean raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "Or you're crazy."

You smiled at him and shot him a wink. "That's just an added bonus."

He rolled his eyes and grabbed a slice of pizza. As he shoveled food into his mouth, you opened up a streaming service and typed in the name of the first movie you wanted to watch.

"You remember The Conjuring right? And Annabelle?"

"Yeah," he answered. "That Annabelle one was creepy as hell."

You grinned. "Well this one is in the same universe and I've been dying to watch it."

You pressed play on the remote and the opening credits of The Nun began to play. You snuggled up under the blanket and sighed contentedly, a piece of pizza in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.

Dean glanced at you and couldn't help the soft smile that graced his lips. It was rare he got to see you truly happy and content, so this was a moment he intended to fully savor. He studied your face, desperate to commit it to memory, unwilling to forget how beautiful you looked in this moment.

He sighed softly and closed his eyes, still picturing your face clearly in his mind. It brought another smile to his lips and he breathed in deeply, smelling a mixture of your shampoo and your perfume. He wanted you to be closer to him, but he didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

He made a split second decision and voiced his request aloud, "It's a little chilly in here. Do you mind sharing the blanket with me?" He wasn't cold at all, but he thought it might get you to move closer to him to share.

"Oh! Sure." You smiled and scooted in his direction, holding the edge of the blanket out to him.

He took it and started to cover himself. "You're gonna need to come a little closer, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle. "I need a bit more coverage."

You laughed and moved even closer to him so your arms were now touching. "Better?" you teased.

"Much," he affirmed.

You tried to keep your body relaxed and focused on the movie, but Dean's proximity was overwhelming your senses. You could smell his aftershave, feel his body heat, and see the rise and fall of his chest much more clearly than before. The simple act of a man breathing should not be a turn on...yet here you were.

You shifted slightly as you felt a familiar wave of heat pool in your belly. Not now, you thought to yourself.

"You okay, doll?" Dean asked softly.

His voice sounded lower than before, huskier even, and you had to bite your lip to keep from audibly moaning. As it was, you could feel the slick gathering between your legs, which was mortifying enough.

"I'm fine," you lied, shifting again.

Dean wrapped his arm around your shoulders and tugged you into his side. "Come 'ere," he muttered. "Get comfortable."

You gasped softly at the sudden movement, but you allowed him to pull you closer. You laid your head against his chest and sighed quietly. You had to admit, it was a much more comfortable position to be in, even if it increased your longing.

"Better?" he whispered, echoing your earlier question.

"Yeah," you mumbled.

Dean smiled down at you even though you couldn't see it. He liked this new position--he liked holding you. He knew he was crossing boundaries he'd never intended to cross, but his feelings had become unbearable as of late.

He couldn't remember a moment when he didn't want you and it was getting harder to remember a time when he didn't love you. The last couple months had been hell on his heart and he was starting to break. He hid it from everyone, especially you, but he knew he couldn't do that for much longer.

His random hookups had stopped alleviating his desire to be with you, instead increasing that need tenfold after every encounter. So he stopped hooking up with women altogether. He'd considered moving out of the bunker for a while to get away, but he couldn't do that to Sam or to you.

He found himself in a predicament he'd been trying to avoid for years and the walls he'd built around his heart had started to crumble. There was nothing he wouldn't do to keep you safe--he'd rip out his own still-beating heart if he had to--but he couldn't find the strength to stop loving you. No matter what he did, his love only grew.

It wasn't fair to you and he knew he shouldn't love you, shouldn't tell you, shouldn't pull you into something with him that would almost certainly get you killed, but his own pain was becoming too much. The physical ache in his chest when you were apart was beginning to impact every part of his life, including hunting. He'd be lying if he said it didn't terrify him, but he couldn't fight his feelings any longer.

"(Y/N)?" Dean asked softly.

"Hmm?" you hummed, eyes still trained on the TV.

"Can you look at me, sweetheart?" he murmured.

You shifted your head to look up at him. You were struck by how brilliantly green his irises looked in the dimly lit room, your lips parting slightly in surprise.

Dean's heart was hammering in his chest so quickly he was certain you could hear it. When your pretty (y/e/c) eyes met his, he was immediately lost in them--adrift in an ocean of (y/e/c).

He knew this was it--it was now or never...he could either take the leap or let his pain drown him in loneliness. He chose the former. He lowered his head the short distance to place a soft, warm kiss against your lips.

The moment you felt his lips on yours, it was like the world stopped spinning. Suddenly there was nothing but you and Dean--nothing else existed, nothing else mattered. Just you and Dean.

When your lips began to move against his, returning his kiss, he groaned happily. His hands grabbed at your torso, seeking comfort in your soft flesh. He tugged you towards him, and you shifted your body to straddle his lap, lips never leaving his.

In your new position, you could feel his hardening member pressing against your clothed core. You ground against him, earning a moan from deep in his throat. His hands tightened their grip on your hips and your nails dug into his shoulders as the sensation sent a bolt of electricity through you.

Dean's hands snaked under your shirt and he began tugging it upwards in an attempt to remove it. The logical part of your brain suddenly kicked back on and you grabbed his hand to stop him.

"Dean--wait," you gasped, pulling away from him slightly.

His eyes widened and his body tensed. He quickly removed his hands from your body and held them up in surrender. "I'm sorry, we can stop. I--"

You shook your head. "I just need...I need to say something." You bit your lip. "I don't wanna be a one night stand or a friends with benefits thing. I-I can't, Dean. I can't."

The pain in your voice nearly broke his heart. He wanted to reassure you, but he wasn't sure you would believe him. He had a reputation and it was Valentine's Day...what were the odds you'd believe him?

"(Y/N), listen to me," he said gently, taking your hands in his. "I would never ever make you to do something you didn't want to do...and I would never purposefully hurt you. I need you to know that. Do you know that, (Y/N/N)?"

"Yes," you whispered, nodding slowly.

"Good...because I mean it. I can't do any more one night stands or casual hookups or friends with benefits situations. I can't handle any of those things anymore than I can pretend I don't need you. And I do need you, (Y/N/N). I need you in every way a person can possibly need another...mentally, emotionally, physically--all of it. You're the best part of my fucked up life and I don't want to lose you."

It was rare to see Dean so open and vulnerable. This was one of the very few times you'd been witness to it, but this was, by far, the most emotional moment you'd ever shared with him. You wanted to respond, to say all the things you'd carried in your heart for years, but you couldn't think of a single word to say.

Your silence dragged on long enough that Dean began to worry he'd crossed a line he shouldn't have...a line he couldn't uncross. "Please, (Y/N)," he begged. "Say something."

"I'm sorry," you said quickly, realizing you'd been silent too long. Dean's face fell and you knew he believed you were about to reject him. You placed your hands against his chest in a calming manner, desperate to infuse your love in the touch.

"You're not going to lose me, Dean," you assured him. "I'm not going anywhere...my place is here, with you. This is where I belong--where I want to be. Wherever you are is home to me."

He didn't need grand gestures or romantic poetry. He didn't need some eloquent speech about how much you loved him. All he needed was to hear your sweet voice saying he was your 'home' and he was a goner.

When his lips met yours for the second time, everything felt different. It was as if all the moments of his life before this were in black and white and he was seeing in color for the first time. He felt alive in a way he'd forgotten--whole, in a way he'd never experienced.

He'd had very few positive relationships in his past and most of them ended bloody. He'd thought he'd been in love before, but those feelings paled in comparison to the way he felt about you. This was love, a love so real--so lasting--it was branded into his very soul.

His fingers gripped the edge of your shirt again and this time, you allowed him to remove it. "Fuck," he groaned, hungry eyes trained on your naked chest. "No bra?"

"I wanted to be comfortable."

His large, calloused hands gripped your heavy breasts and he gently kneaded the supple flesh. "I want my girl to be comfortable all the time," he murmured. "So I think we should burn all your bras."

Your soft chuckle morphed into a moan as his lips found one of your nipples. You rolled your hips against him, a soft gasp escaping your lips.

Dean wanted to take his time with you and he was thoroughly enjoying his current activities, but it seemed you had other plans in mind.

"Dean," you whined. "Need you."

He gave your nipple one last gentle lick before lifting his head. "I'm right here, baby."

You rolled your hips against his throbbing cock and he groaned. Clearly you wanted more and he was in no position to deny you anything.

He gripped you tightly and stood up. You yelped in surprise and wrapped your legs around his waist. He turned around so your back was to the couch and he slowly lowered you down, placing you on the couch in front of him. He kneeled down and looked up at you, eyes dark with desire.

His hands slid slowly up your thighs, coming to a stop at the hem of your pants. "Can I take these off?"

You nodded rapidly.

He smirked and began to peel your leggings down at a painfully slow pace. You whined in annoyance, but Dean simply smiled. "Patience, sweetheart."

Finally, your pants, and subsequently your underwear, were tossed onto the floor, leaving you completely bare before him. There was a small part of you that felt self-conscious being naked in front of Dean. It was always uncomfortable for you the first time you found yourself in this position with a new man, but Dean was different. You weren't sure if it was the hunger in his gaze, the affection he clearly had for you, or the love you felt for him...you felt safe, you felt comfortable, and you felt loved. That was all that mattered.

Dean licked his lips in anticipation as he slowly spread your legs, revealing your soaking wet pussy to him. He groaned softly, spreading your legs wider to get an even better view.

"Now that's the prettiest pussy I've ever seen," he murmured. He slid a finger between your folds to collect some of your juices before bringing the finger to his mouth. He sucked it clean with a moan of enjoyment. "Delicious."

Before you had time to react, Dean had grabbed your hips and dragged you forward so you were closer to the edge of the couch. His mouth was on you in an instant, feasting on you like he might never eat again.

Your head fell back against the cushion and soft moans began to stream from your lips. Your legs rested on his shoulders and your hand gripped his hair tightly. Salacious sounds filled the room and you were glad Sam was gone for the night. You had a feeling it was only going to get louder.

Dean's experience in the bedroom was very evident as he ate you out. He was extremely skilled, but more importantly he paid attention to you. He was desperate to learn exactly what drove you wild and he wouldn't stop until he'd mapped out all of your pleasure points.

"Dean," you gasped softly, grip on his hair tightening.

He knew you were close, the way your legs began to tremble and your grip on his hair indicating your impending orgasm like a flashing neon sign.

His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place so you couldn't squirm away. With expert precision, Dean spelled his own full name against your clit with his tongue, sending you into a spiral of moaning, shaking bliss.

Dean continued to lap up your juices as you came down, and to your surprise, he didn't stop, even as you began to tug on his hair in earnest. "Please, Dean! Too much," you pleaded.

Dean sucked your little bundle of nerves into his mouth and slipped two fingers inside of you. He quickly found your sweet spot and began to drag his fingers along it repeatedly. The shock waves of pleasure had you changing your pleas to moans in seconds.

Your pussy gripped his fingers like iron and he couldn't wait to feel you grip his cock in the same fashion. He hadn't even been inside you yet and he already knew he would never want another woman's body the way he wanted yours.

"Dean!" you cried out, thick thighs squeezing his head, hips gyrating against his mouth as you came once again.

He lapped up everything you had to give him hungrily--wishing he could stay between your legs forever. This time, however, he allowed you to pull him up by his hair.

You were completely breathless, chest rising and falling rapidly. Dean licked his lips and wondered how sexy you'd look riding him, breasts bouncing as he slammed up into you.

"I think," you mumbled, "you have...too much...clothing on."

He laughed at your breathless remark. He had to agree with your sentiment, so he stood up and removed his shirt quickly. When he stood, you were rewarded with a nice view of his erection pressing against the confines of his sweats.

He smiled at you and slowly lowered his pants, revealing his very large member. The tip was red and throbbing, precum leaking from the slit. You licked your lips and eyed him hungrily, wanting to wrap your lips around it with a desperation that surprised you.

"Sit," you begged.

Dean smirked and obliged, sitting down beside you. You slid off the couch and crawled the short distance to settle between his legs.

Your soft hands wrapped around his cock and he groaned softly. "You're so big," you whispered.

"Your hands are small," he teased.

"But my mouth isn't."

Dean didn't have the time to process your sassy comment before your mouth wrapped around him and you began to suck his cock in earnest.

"Holy fuck-" he groaned, head falling back against the cushion.

He tangled his hand in your hair and gently guided your head as you began to take his cock deeper into your throat. You flexed the back of your tongue as you did so and he groaned loudly.

Having gotten the reaction you'd desired, you did the same move a couple more times, allowing his cock to almost leave your mouth before sucking him deep into your throat.

His grip on your hair tightened and his hips thrust forward, causing you to gag slightly. Instead of trying to lift off him, you breathed deeply through your nose and held steady, relaxing your throat as best as you could.

"Baby, you're doing so good for me," Dean murmured. "Making me feel amazing."

You moaned around his cock and reached between his legs to cup his balls and give them a gentle squeeze. His hips bucked slightly at the action, causing you to smirk.

You continued to suck his cock until he tugged your hair a little more harshly. "You gotta stop, doll, or I'm gonna cum."

You hummed in disappointment, but allowed him to pull you off his cock with a soft popping sound. He looked down at you with lust filled eyes and beckoned you towards him.

"Come up here, baby. I wanna touch you," he begged.

You climbed onto the couch with him, straddling his legs once again. You lowered yourself slowly, rubbing his cock against your wet core. You leaned forward to kiss him and repeated the action. He moaned against your lips before pressing his tongue against them, demanding entry.

You parted your lips and kissed him deeply, allowing his tongue to assert dominance. The kiss was passionate and loving, but the fire that burned inside of both of you in that moment only cared about pleasure.

"I need to be inside you," Dean whispered against your lips.

"Please," you begged him, rutting against him once more.

He gripped his cock tightly and lined himself up with your entrance. Once the tip pressed against your tight opening, he released his grip, hands settling on your hips to help guide you down.

You moaned softly as you continued to lower yourself onto his cock--the stretch both painful and enjoyable all at once. He was larger than you were accustomed to, both in girth and in length, and it almost felt as if you were a virgin all over again.

You had to lean forward, pressing your body against his for support as you lowered yourself down completely. You'd never felt so full, your toes curled at the mere feeling.

"You okay, baby?" Dean murmured, hands gently rubbing soothing circles into your back as he allowed you time to adjust.

"Never better," you whispered in reply.

You pulled yourself up into a proper sitting position and gasped as he somehow sank even deeper into you.

Dean worried he'd hurt you until he saw the look in your eye. His concern quickly turned to a smirk of pride. He pressed his hand against your lower abdomen and growled, "You feel that, baby? I'm so deep inside you, you'll be feeling me for days."

You moaned softly, his words having the desired effect on you. You rolled your hips a little and he hissed softly.

"Fuck, doll."

He gripped your hips as you started to move, bouncing up and down on his cock slowly.

His lips attached themselves to your jaw, your neck, your collarbone--anywhere he could reach. He was reveling in the feeling of your soft body against his muscular one, your curves providing him with plenty of flesh to hold on to.

"You feel so good, baby," he moaned in your ear. "Pussy squeezing me so tight--can hardly breathe."

"Feels good, Dean," you whimper.

"Yeah, baby? You like the way my cock feels in your pretty little pussy? Stretching you just right--you were made for me."

You preened at the praise, which only made him want to praise you more.

"This perfect body of yours makes me feel so good, sweetheart. You take my cock so well. Wanna stay here forever just making you feel good--listening to those sweet sounds you make. Fuck, never wanna stop."

You loved his praise, but your thighs were starting to get tired from the exertion. Dean could feel you slowing down, so he pulled you forward, pressing your chest flush against his.

"I've got you, baby. Let me take over," he whispered.

You gripped his shoulders and nodded, more than willing to allow him to take control.

As soon as he felt your body relax against him, he planted his feet firmly on the floor and began to piston up into you. He held you tightly against him to prevent you from moving too much.

"Dean!" you cried, nails digging into his shoulders.

His cock pressed into your g-spot with each thrust and in a matter of moments, you were teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

"Can feel you squeezing me, baby. You gonna cum for me? Huh?" Dean asked huskily. "You gonna coat my cock with your sweet cum, baby? Cum for me, sweet girl. Wanna feel it."

You loved the way he begged and it had you coming undone in an instant. You screamed his name as your walls fluttered around his cock. It took all of his focus not to cum along with you.

"That's my good girl," he whispered. "I'm gonna cum soon, doll. Where you want it?"

"Inside me," you begged. "Please, Dean--fill me up."

"Oh, fuck-" Dean moaned loudly as he came, coating your walls with his seed.

After a few more thrusts, Dean stilled. He continued to hold you tightly against him, needing to feel you close to him as he came down from his high.

He rubbed your back soothingly and placed a soft kiss to your damp hairline. "You were so good for me, (Y/N/N)."

You kissed his shoulder. "Felt so good, Dean."

He smiled and squeezed you tighter. He sighed contentedly, enjoying the feeling of the woman he loved pressed against his chest.

His cock had begun to soften and his cum was leaking out of you and onto his thighs, but he couldn't be bothered. Taking care of you was his one and only priority.

"Do you need some water, sweetheart?" he asked softly.

You shook your head.

"Food?"

You shook your head again.

"Tell me what you need, baby," he begged.

You finally lifted your head to look him in his eyes. "I know it's cliché to say I love you after sex, but I don't care. I love you, Dean...I love you wholly and completely."

Dean nearly breathed a sigh of relief at your admission. "I can't even begin to express how happy it makes me to hear you say those words. I've been pushing the feeling down for years, but I can't do it anymore, (Y/N). I love you with everything I have--it might not be much, but it's yours. You have me forever--mind, body, and soul."

You smiled and gently caressed his cheek. He leaned into your touch and closed his eyes. You kissed him softly, which he immediately returned in kind.

When you separated, you noticed a mischievous glint in his bright green eyes. "Dean?"

"What are your thoughts about round two in my bedroom?"

You laughed lightly. "Are you gonna kick me out of your bed at 2am?"

"Not if you don't snore," he teased.

You smacked his shoulder affectionately and he laughed. "You're lucky you're so damn cute."

He grinned. "Actually, I'm adorable."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "You know, I think I like the idea of round two."

Dean smiled and pulled you even closer. "Hold onto me, sweetheart."

You gripped him tightly and he stood up, holding you to his chest. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he headed towards his bedroom.

When he entered his room, he gently tossed you onto the bed, earning a soft giggle from your lips. He climbed on top of you, pressing sweet kisses to your skin for several moments before finally kissing your soft lips.

"I'm glad you skipped 'Unattached Drifter Christmas' this year," you murmured.

He smiled. "Me too, baby. I think it's more 'Attached Drifter Christmas' now."

You laughed. "I love you, you dork."

He kissed you again. "Not as much as I love you."

The two of you spent the next couple hours continuing to explore each other's bodies, experiencing blinding pleasure over and over again.

Nothing could ever compare to the love you felt for each other, and in spite of everything, you both fell asleep in the comfort of each other's arms, dreaming of the beautiful future ahead.

#supernatural #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x plus size!reader smut #dean winchester x plus size reader #supernatural smut

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 3 months

Text

The Good Omens Season 2 Soundtrack! 😍❤🎵

The Soundtrack CD has wonderful cover and pics and look at the brilliant booklet! :D When you open it it looks like a box with a fly! :D

Options :):

(best to use the local store of course :), the Silva Screen page is thewebpage of the recording company)

CD:

Silva Screen 15.99 €

Amazon.co.uk £10.99

Amazon.com $30.79

Vinyl:

Silva Screen 39.99 €

Amazon.com $53.99

Digital:

Silva Screen 10.99 €

More digital listening options :) (some free)

Episode description and Track Listing :):

CHAPTER 1: THE ARRIVAL - Retired angel Aziraphale and retired demon Crowley's lives are upended when a visitor arrives on the doorstep of Aziraphale's bookshop, bringing chaos. Local shopkeepers Maggie and Nina get locked in to Nina's coffee shop when Crowley loses his temper. Heaven and Hell are suspicious, and Crowley and Aziraphale have a disagreement.

1. Before the Beginning 2. Good Omens 2 Opening Title 3. Into Soho 4. Something Terrible 5. To The Bookshop 6. Maggie and Nina 7. He’s Smoking 8. Tiny Miracle 9. Heavenly Alarm Bells

CHAPTER 2: THE CLUE featuring the minisode A COMPANION TO OWLS - Heaven and Hell are determined to find the missing angel. An overheard song provides Aziraphale with a Clue. Crowley and Aziraphale visit the pub to discuss ways that humans fall in love. While almost 5,000 years ago Crowley is sent to inflict punishments on the righteous Job, God's favourite person, as Aziraphale learns at first hand about temptation, and what Gabriel will and won't believe.

10. Avaunt! 11. The Song is the Clue 12. It’s What God Wants 13. A Mighty Wind 14. Whales 15. Gabriel Returns 16. His New Children 17. Am I Awful Now? 18. Fallen Angel

CHAPTER 3: I KNOW WHERE I'M GOING featuring the minisode THE RESURRECTIONISTS - Heaven sends the angel Muriel in disguise to spy on Aziraphale and Crowley. Aziraphale drives to Edinburgh in pursuit of his Clue, and learns a little about a lot. The couple's visit to Edinburgh in 1827 involves graverobbery, a statue and an unfortunate encounter with a vial of laudanum. In the present, Crowley is in charge of the bookshop, and is disappointed by human beings and the weather.

19. Police Arrive 20. Scotland 21. We’re Going to Hell 22. People Get a Choice 23. My Car is Not Yellow 24. Beelzebub in Hell 25. The Book 26. The Fly 27. Mr. Dalrymple 28. We Need to Cut 29. I’m Going to Save Her 30. Crowley Goes Large 31. Not Kind 32. Beelzebub Isn’t Happy

CHAPTER 4: THE HITCHHIKER featuring the minisode NAZI ZOMBIE FLESHEATERS - Aziraphale's good deed of picking up a hitchhiker on his way back to Soho proves to be a serious mistake. In 1941 Crowley and Aziraphale encounter some surprising adversaries, old and new, as the Nazi spies who almost entrapped Aziraphale return as zombies from the dead, intent on preventing him from attempting a bullet catch on the West End stage.

33. Hell-O 34. Nazi Zombies 35. March of the Nazi Zombies 36. Crowley Pep Talk 37. The Magic Shop 38. Catch The Bullet 39. Zombies in the Dressing Room

CHAPTER 5: THE BALL - Aziraphale tries to bring Maggie and Nina together by organising a meeting of the Whickber Street Shopkeepers and Street Traders Association. In Hell, Shax is determined to launch a full scale attack on the bookshop, with a legion of demons at her command. Nina's heart is broken, as is a bookshop window. Gabriel has a close encounter with Mrs Sandwich and a small plate of cakes.

40. I’ll Let You Have It 41. We’re Storming a Book Shop 42. Monsieur Azirophale 43. The Candelabra 44. Here Comes Hell 45. Gabriel Gives Himself Up 46. Shax 47. The Circle

CHAPTER 6: EVERY DAY - Crowley becomes a Heavenly bee and learns the truth about the Armageddon sequel. Aziraphale defends his bookshop from Shax's army and reveals his halo, Maggie and Nina become warriors, and Jim the assistant bookseller gets some hot chocolate. Crowley and Aziraphale get to the bottom of the mystery of the Matchbox. The Metatron brings an oat milk latte, along with a final offer.

48. Bin Through the Window 49. Gabriel Leaving Heaven 50. The Halo 51. Gabriel Revealed 52. Gabriel’s Love Story 53. Leaving The Bookshop 54. Gabriel and Beelzebub 55. Crowley and Muriel 56. I Forgive You 57. Don’t Bother 58. The Biggest Decision 59. The End?

The vinyl should look like this :) (damn, it gorgeous toooo! :D):

#good omens #s2 soundtrack #s2 ost #s2 music #david g arnold #masterposts #s2 soundtrack masterpost #WAHOO

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 7 months

Text

Testing One, Two, Three (S.R. Smut +18)

Summary: (Spencer Reid x Fem Reader) Spencer comes home, after a long week of being away, with a bag full of (sexy) surprises.

Content Warnings: Sex toy use, praise kink, dirty talk, mutual self pleasure, coming undone, overstimulation, very light submissive (Reader) dominant (Spencer) dynamics, talk of anal sex & pegging

Word Count: 3.3K

Note: This is one that I have had saved in my drafts for a very long time! And I just had the inspiration to finish it a couple days ago.

Testing One, Two, Three

It wasn’t strange for Spencer to make trips to the grocery store, to the used bookstore, or the pharmacy before making his way back to Y/N’s storybook Tudor home after work.

This evening proved to be not unlike the others. Spencer, driving his powder blue Volvo pulls into Y/N’s driveway. She watches from the windows as he takes out his satchel, his overnight bag, and other large black shopping bags. It didn’t look like it was from the grocery store and their local bookstore didn’t give customers plastic bags. Curious, Y/N unlocks the door for Spencer, deciding to meet him at her front stoop instead of in the kitchen or the hallway like normal.

“Hey there, love,” Spencer says, the nickname brushing off his lips with ease. He looks tired and worn down. Y/N thinks that traveling through two different time zones and not getting enough sleep is a way to do that to a person, but she decides she’ll keep that to herself and just usher Spencer to bed earlier tonight.

“Oh, Spence. I really missed you,” she confesses, breathing in his familiar scent. It's a little different. He smells like cheap hotel shampoo and stale coffee, not like his usual minty and green tea body wash and expensive coffee beans.

Spencer sighs into her neck, swaying slightly as he holds Y/N in his arms on her front stoop. His bags, even the mysterious black on, lay neglected on the ground by their feet.

“I know, Y/N. I know, sweetheart,” he reassures, rubbing his hand up and down her back in a comforting gesture. “I got you something. Well, really it’s for us. But for you, mostly I suppose,”

“You’re acting clingy and squirrely,” she assesses, leaning back to look at Spencer’s unreadable face. He simply shrugs, as if to say you’ll find out when you find out.

“I need caffeine,” Spencer remarks, as he insists on carrying all the bags into the house by himself, “And something comfy to wear. I’ve been in this shirt for the last two days. There was a break in the case 41 hours in and we couldn’t break for the hotel. It was too out of the way,”

“Oh my poor boy,” Y/N exclaims, helping Spencer shed his cardigan and standing with him as he takes his shoes off, “What about a nice hot shower and then some leftovers. I made chickpea curry last night. We have leftover rice and garlic naan, too,” she offers.

Spencer, offering his thanks, grabs at his tie. His shoulders tense with exhaustion and something unreadable. He’s not usually mysterious. Usually, Spencer’s nothing but an open book.

“You alright?” Y/N asks, doling out the portion of chickpeas and rice on the delicately decorated plates she received for her 25th birthday.

“Fine,” Spencer says, clipped and detached.

So unlike him.

“Hmm. Well how was work? Anything interesting happen?” Y/N asks, attempting to spark conversation with her boyfriend. They’ve only been dating for a solid five months; enough time for whatever it was to have run its course. If Y/N didn’t know any better than she should expect herself to be circling the drain tonight along with dishes that would certainly be neglected for a pint of Java Chip.

“Fine,” Spencer says, nodding thanks for the plate of food. He shovels in a couple bites, seemingly uninterested in continuing the conversation.

So unlike him.

Usually, Spencer would be clamoring to talk to her. It wasn’t too long ago that they spent long nights sharing a bottle of red and talking about everything from books to movies to the meaning of life.

“Alright, Spencer. Cut the crap. Are you breaking up with me? Because if you are–?”

Shock washes over Spencer’s face. And he doesn’t wear it well. He does a spit take and it’s nearly as foolish as it looks like in movies. Spencer’s eyes grow about three sizes bigger.

“What? Break up with you? God, no,” he stammers, the sentiment clear although his efforts lacked clarity.

“Okay.” Y/N says, tossing Spencer a napkin to mop up his mess of curry and water. “Good to know. But why are you acting so….squirrely?”

Shifting in his seat, Spencer attempts to remain calm. His eyes, a honey brown with a cool brown rim, flit to the mysterious bag he brought in from his car. It was as if she could hear the whirring of the gears clicking into place. She follows his gaze to the bag.

“You bought something. Something that you’re either nervous about or embarrassed? So it can’t be books. And it’s not something innocuous like a throw blanket or pie dish. And judging by your breathing growing heavy, it’s something….salacious.”

Spencer’s thin upper lip twitches with delight. He hums, neither confirming nor denying her claims. His eyes flicker with playfulness, a contrast to moments ago when Spencer’s eyes flooded with fear and shock.

“You’re smart.” Spencer concludes, smiling with knives. He stands to presumably grab the black bag that has caused so much intrigue. “Should have been a profiler with a mind like yours.”

“I’ll stick to what I know.” Y/N tells him, her interest in the bag only growing

when Spencer places it in front of her on the table. “Let me guess, we’re at the stage in our relationship where you can buy me sexy underwear without it looking like you’re sleaze,”

Chortling, Spencer blushes profusely. His feeble attempts at hiding the bag's contents fail miserably as they only pique Y/N’s interest. His eyes are wide with wonder and anticipation in the kitchen light.

“It’s not lingerie.”

“Alright, well whatever it is, Spencer I’m sure I’ll love it. You’re being so jumpy, it’s making me think you’ve got some really kinky sex toy in here,” she says, reaching her hand into the bag to finally examine its contents. She’s good at reading faces. From the old man who reads French Literature on the Metro to the young barista at the local coffee shop, Y/N, like even Spencer admitted, is pretty well versed at reading people. Which is why, for a split second she reads pure terror in Spencer’s eyes.

“Oh shit,” she says, turning the box in her hand and reading the label. “You bought me a wand?” Her voice goes up an octave as if she’s just realizing what she’s holding in her hands.

Spencer, now thoroughly, embarrassed, covers his face with his hand. His cheeks are tinged a lovely pink and he peeks through his fingers, apparently still eager. “Will you kill me if I say that’s not the only thing in there?”

“Spencer Reid!” she shouts, slapping his hands on the table with glee and excitement. It was the very thought of Spencer Reid in a sex shop that sent both shivers down her spine, like an electric shock and shock waves of laughter through her system. “You went into a sex shop.”

“Yes, Y/N,” Spencer contends, his tone playful enough, “But please continue your teasing. We’ll see how cocky you’ll be when you’re on the receiving end of 5000 RPMS. And that’s the lowest setting,”

“Is that a threat?” Y/N asks, leaning in closer to Spencer. Her cleavage is eye level to Spencer’s line of vision. His eyes dart there to the bag and back to her eyes.

He shakes his head. “A promise. Continue,” Spencer instructs, pointing towards the bag. She listens, fishing her hand in the large bag.

“That’s a clitoral stimulator.” Spencer explains, “The website I got recommendations from says that it simulates oral sex. It has eleven settings,” he continues, watching as Y/N’s eyes grow big at the thought of the toy in her hands.

“Hmm, eleven?” she muses, putting it down next to the menacing looking hitachi wand.

“Another one? Spencer, how much money did you spend on toys?” she says aghast as she takes out yet another item from the bag.

“It’s a Lush vibrator.” Spencer explains, waving off Y/N’s concerns for his wallet. “It’s actually connected to my phone. That means I can control it, even when we’re apart. Which, considering how much we’re apart, just might come in handy.”

“This must have cost a lot of money.” Y/N speculates, staring at the three presents facing her on the countertop. “You really didn’t have to. You really shouldn’t–”

“Y/N,” Spencer says, her name sounding deadly in his breathy timber, “It’s my job to make sure you’re satisfied. And I thought it would be a little fun to bring in some…reinforcements.”

“That’s certainly more forward thinking than my last boyfriend. He was under the assumption that toys stole his thunder. But between you and me, and like every other woman he slept with, it’s probably because he hardly ever made me finish.”

“Really?” Spencer says, looking shocked. “And he was still insecure about bringing toys into the bedroom?”

Laughing, Y/N tosses her head back in a chortle. There was something endearing about Spencer’s genuine shock.

Spencer, looking half bemused and half proud, shifts in his seat. “So are we going to test them out or what?”

Twenty minutes later, they were both in her bed. Y/N, on her back, with her feet planted firmly on the bed, watches as Spencer studies her carefully. Sweat pools in her cleavage and she grabs the sheets, needing something to grip as yet another wave of pleasure washes over her body. He had already coaxed an orgasm out of her with the clitoral stimulator.

Spencer, fully dressed, holds the wand against her. He has a notebook to her left with small scribbles of notes detailing how fast she’s edged with each different toy. His scribbles, messy and disorganized at best, grow increasingly illegible. Spencer’s creases his brow, a sign of his intense determination, and is fuzzy as Y/N gazes down at him. She watches his look of stoic concentration, something that she finds entirely too attractive. But considering he plans on bringing her to climax time and time again tonight, she’ll give into her flights of fancy.

“Think you like this one.” Spencer comments. He switches the wand to his less dominant, but still skillful hand to make notes on the pad. A self-satisfied smirk grows on his face, a sign that he’s enjoying this more than he’s letting on.

“It’s really good.” she says, her voice betraying her already limited resolve. Spencer’s fingers lie casually on her thighs, searing marks into her legs that vaporize her skin. When he touches her it’s like her limb liquifies and her skin melts. She wants his fingerprints to sear into her skin, finally becoming part of her.

“Yeah,” Spencer asks, a sarcastic smirk playing on the corner of his mouth, “Tell me more, sweetheart. Tell me how good it feels.”

Spencer’s words are punctuated by the head of the toy rolling against her clit. He never keeps it in one place longer than a couple of seconds, either not wanting to overstimulate her too soon or to keep her on her toes longer for him.

“It feels so…good. Better than it used to. Before I had you,” she stammers, the words clunky in her mouth as she concentrates on Spencer’s deft hand at her core and his warm lips against her neck.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Before you had me to keep you nice and full, you had to use things like this. But I’m gone too often for you. I need to know my sweet girl is taken care of. So we’re going to test all of these toys out tonight. Till you’re drippy little mess, begging for me to finally fuck you.”

Spencer’s sloppy kisses climb the slope of Y/N’s neck. He leaves whisper-wishes into the nooks of her skin, each one filled with promises and love. It’s a stark contrast; the sweet kisses to his hand that holds the vibrator: the bane of her undoing.

“You know Hitachi wands are excellent for clitoral stimulation. This one has only one vibration pattern, but eight different speeds. Now that sounds like a challenge. And one that I’d like to break.”

Y/N’s brow furrows as she gazes at Spencer with a deep concentration. He breathes against her neck, a trail full of wet kisses plotting their revenge against her sensitive skin. Spencer’s fingers hold the wand deftly as he concentrates the sensation against her clit. Y/N’s feet move up the bed, dragging the crocheted blanket with them.

“Holy shit, Spence!” Y/N curses, her breath bated as the wand’s vibrations kick up a couple of levels.

“That’s my girl. You like the fourth setting. Remember that, baby,” Spencer says, his lips curved into a proud smile as Y/N’s hips jut upwards in tandem with the toy, “Just like that, Y/N. I can tell you’re close. Give me another. One’s not enough for my greedy girl. And who am I to deny such a pretty face and a wet pussy. It’s all mine after all.”

She feels the wand leave her clit and venture up to her stomach. Y/N’s muscles react like falling dominos at the sensation. She tenses as the vibrations shoot up and fry her nerves. Spencer licks his lips at the sight of her arousal sticking to her bare torso. He carefully dances the wand up to her nipples, watching with glee as they pebble even further in response to the vibrations.

“One day I’ll give you an orgasm from just playing with these nipples. I’ll lick and kiss and suck on them till you’re dripping and begging for my cock to fill you up.”

“Jesus, Spencer.” Y/N pants, her hips buckling as her climax reached its peak. “Can I come, please? Please let me come again? I need it so fucking bad, baby.” Her tongue peaks out from her lips, wetting the surface as Spencer peered up at her. She grabs his collar to drag him up for a kiss just as she finally teetered off the edge, yet again.

Spencer separates from the kiss, his lips puffy and red from Y/N’s frantic mouth. He smiles, gently caressing her head in a gesture that was entirely too sweet for their current situation. She feels Spencer’s erection in his pants; it had to be almost painful by now.

“What was that two or three?” Y/N asks, a self-satisfied smirk plaguing her face. “I think we might set a record or something.”

“That was two.” Spencer corrects. He takes more notes in his little notebook. “Of at least four or five. Depending on how much you beg later.” He slips off the bed and fishes through the bag. “Now, I think I have an idea for which I’d like to try next.”

A bright pink silicone dildo with a flared based, freshly washed, lays in between them on the bed. Y/N raises her eyes in surprise.

“Most men wouldn’t be too thrilled to have something other than their penis fuck their girlfriends, you know.”

Spencer shrugs. “Yeah, but there’s a lot that we can do with it.” He claims, “Like double penetration or even, uh,” He blushes and stumbles over his next comment, “And pegging.”

Y/N grins as an overwhelming sense of arousal washed over her. “Oh,” she says, skimming her fingers around Spencer’s neck. His skin is ridiculously soft, “we are so tabling that one for later. I would love to see you a mess for me instead.”

Spencer grins. “Fuck, that’s good, Y/N. So good.” He kissed her forehead. “I wanna watch you ride it. Like you would my cock.”

Y/N nods, as Spencer shifts on the bed, allowing for her to assume a crouched position. She looks at Spencer, his eyes laden with lust and love. He sits, legs spread in an attempt to accommodate his hardened erection in the old arm chair. He looks too good to be true, his cheeks are tinged with a blush, the dances that line between innocence and corruption. His notebook is forgotten, as he needs the entirety of his attention focused on the sight before him.

“Good girl.” Spencer mutters, his hands resting on his thighs, but they twitch restlessly. It was as if he needs to physically hold himself back from ravishing Y/N at the sight of her crouched on her bed ready to fuck herself with a dildo her purchased for her. “Lower yourself on the toy. Give yourself an inch into your sweet little cunt.”

His voice is deep, yet soft as he guided her pleasure expertly. She groans as the toy breaches her cunt, the full sensation is welcomed after the last hour of the wand and clit stimulator.

“Don’t you wish it was your cock fucking my cunt, Spencer?” Y/N asks, her right hand wrapped around the flared base of the toy and the other holding herself up. Her abdominal muscles stunned with strain as her body remained in a crouched position, but the promise of release goaded her on. “You’re so hard, baby. I can see it from here. Don’t you want to touch yourself?”

Spencer bites his lip. He nods as his hands undo his belt and his hips lift up enough so he can shimmy his pants and underwear to his knees. He wraps a hand around his cock, hard and glistening with arousal, and rubs upward with a tight fist. Spencer’s teeth dig into his bottom lip as he continues to watch Y/N lower herself onto the toy.

“Give yourself another inch, sweetheart.” Spencer instructs as he fucked his fist. He swipes his thumb over the tip of his cock. “Fuck I wish it was your mouth or your pussy on my dick.”

“God, you have the prettiest cock.” Y/N pants, the toy filling her up more and more as she sinks lower onto the base. “But now that we have this toy, maybe you can fuck my ass? I know you’d like that, baby.”

“Dirty girl,” Spencer praises, a smile covering his face as Y/N’s thighs quiver, “Tell me does that toy fill you up nicely? I had to pick out the best one for my girl.”

“Yes, yes,” Y/N answers, her voice rough and raw, “So good….I feel so full.” The pink dildo filled her cunt.

“Good. Good.” Spencer says, his hand moving up and down his cock at a hastened pace. “Show me how you’ll ride it when I’m not here to fuck you, baby. Show me how you’ll fuck that tight cunt.”

Spencer’s words provide the encouragement for Y/N to hoist herself up and down on the dildo. She would've laid flat on her back, a position that would have been easier on her thighs and core, but the angle she’s able to reach makes the suffering all worth it.

“Fuck…so good, Spencer. But I don’t think I can come from just this…it’s not…it’s not enough for me.” Y/N explains. Spencer knows that. He understands the science behind the female orgasm enough to know that many women are unable to reach climax from vaginal penetration only.

“I know, sweet girl. Don’t you worry.” He promises. “Bring your fingers to your clit

and give yourself some nice tight circles.”

She listens. Her fingers draw tight circles around her clit. Y/N bites her lip as she feels her pleasure build and build. “So good. So good.”

“I know, I know. Grind against the heel of your hand. You go wild when I do that, love. Like a little fucking minx. You can’t get enough.”

The tension builds in her stomach as she grinds against the heel of her hand. Cursing, Spencer watches with lust-laden eyes as Y/N writhes on the bed. Sweat forms against her brow as her feet dig into the mattress and her thighs burn in exhaustion. Until she finally feels that familiar burst of pleasure release.

“Fuck, fuck,” She curses, so caught up in her own pleasure the room seemed to spin around her. “I–I…Spencer, I’m coming.”

Her release washes over her as she slumps down into the bed, finally spent with all her energy expended. She can barely hear Spencer shuffle over, nearly tripping over his feet since his pants remained gathered around his ankles.

“Holy shit.” Spencer curses. “That was the most sensual thing I’ve ever seen.” He looks at her with half awe and half love. He pulls his underwear back up and kicks his pants off as he sits on the bed. “Are you alright, babe?”

Y/N groans, her cunt is raw with overstimulation and it is like every single nerve in her body is lit on fire in the best way possible. She offers Spencer a weak thumbs up that morphed into an equally weak fist bump. He obliged and gave Y/N a sweet forehead kiss in return.

“So toys are a plus for us,” Spencer muses. He adjusts the pillows on the bed and helps Y/N sit up in a more comfortable position. “Thank you for this. I really enjoyed it. And I’m, you know, glad you’ll be occupied when I’m gone.”

Y/N’s face flushes as a warmth resembling love covers her entire being. “I should be the one thanking you,” she counters, “Wait…I didn’t get you off.” She says, sitting up and then failing as her tired body gave out.

“That’s a problem you already took care of,” Spencer protests, gesturing to his stained underwear. “I had already come untouched by the time you told me to touch myself. You put on quite the show, sweetheart.”

She raises her eyes in disbelief as Spencer chuckles and kisses her cheek. “I’m glad you found that equally pleasurable. I don't think I’ve ever come as hard as I just did. And I doubt it’ll ever happen again.” She rises from the bed, with the help of Spencer. He grabs her waist as they make their way into her bathroom.

“Is that a challenge?” Spencer says, with a cocky smirk

“Fuck yeah it is,” Y/N said, “but I think I need like three weeks to recover.”

Thank you for reading! Please remember, I appreciate you reading, reflagging, and commenting on all of my fics. I love your feedback and appreciate your support & community more than you'll ever know.

Tag List (I don't want to bother anyone, so just tagging people I mainly interact with)

@reidsbookclub @foxy-eva @reid-ingandweeping @boldlyvoid

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut

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trashmouth-richie · 1 year

Text

Eddie x Fem!reader

master list

summary: feelings burst. Fluffy. Fluffy fluffy. Eddie helps reader when she finds herself in a bind.

warnings: no minors gtfo- eventual smut in the series.

W.C: 11.8k 🫣

A/N: per usual thank you the my beta readers @sweetsweetjellybean

Clunk

Clunk clunk humm

You were already late for work this morning and now this? Must be a fucking Monday. This must be that bitch karma’s payback for you talking shit about Eddie’s van the other night when he backed it up to the garage to unload some shit he salvaged from the junkyard.

“You would think that since you’re a mechanic, you could tune up that piece of shit so it isn’t so fucking loud.”

Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, unloading another arm load of car parts from the back of the van to the middle of the garage, “don’t dog on the shaggin’ wagon, you know how much ass I get in this thing?”

The unspoken agreement you had with Eddie the other night after spilling your guts about your past, gave you more patience towards him than ever before. Instead of finding him repulsive, you two were almost friends.

“No I don’t and also I don’t care.” you say taking a bite of a ham sandwich.

“More than a public toilet seat,” Eddie boasts, “Ladies love it, feel like I’m Shaggy or something.”

More like his other four-legged snack-loving friend.

“I really hope you use a rubber, don’t wanna extend the Munson blood line anymore than you have to,” you bite back.

“Oh sweetheart, I always wrap it with the groupies, especially watching Jas bounce from Gareth, to Big D to Walt all in one night.”

“Well look at you, Mr. Perfect bill of health.”

Eddie smiles widely a stupid grin plastered on his face, “I’m so good at the doctors they even give me a sticker. ”

Now here you are, stranded at the gas station east of town, past Merrill’s pumpkin patch. Losing all faith in your sanity, you slam your hand into the steering wheel one more time. Your chunky boots clunk across the pavement as you pull the door towards you, a dingy brass bell dings overhead, alerting the gas station attendant that someone has entered the store.

“Back again?” the balding creep with the greasy combover presses. His coke bottle thick glasses full of breakfast pizza slime from his fingers from pushing them up on in place after sliding down the oils on his nose. A brown paper bag with orange spray paint sitting next to it sat on the counter, and a tinge of orange around his mouth.

With no time for small talk or shooting the shit with the local bachelors of Hawkins, you simply need to borrow the phone and call… fuck. You didn’t want to have to call Boom’s, but the other shops didn’t open yet, and you didn’t know any of them. The decision was made.

“I need to use the phone,” you say laying your hands on the counter.

“No can do, this is a business line,” he spits, bits of his barely chewed breakfast falling from his over stuffed mouth.

Irritated beyond belief you say through gritted teeth, “What? My car broke down, I need to have it towed.”

Showing no sympathy, the combover greaseball says, “That sucks, don’t it,” a throaty chuckle erupts from him. Clearly the man got off from making next to little effort in helping someone.

“Listen,” you say peering over the counter to read the slobs name tag, “Ralph— you’re going to give me the goddamn phone so I can get my car towed, or I’m going to tell your boss about your little huffing habit. Got it?”

His cheeks crimson at your threat, “…what’s the number?”

After dialing it wrong three times, Ralph’s oversized fingers and his altered mind getting hung up on where the 4 was on the dusty rotary phone, you hastily reach across the counter and grab it and the Hawkins phone book. Flipping through the worn yellow pages, finding the number yourself and slotting your fingers in the appropriate places to get the number correct, it finally starts ringing.

Angrily tapping your foot, the serenade of dial tone ringing loud in your ear.

“Boom’s” a bored voice says, after ehat seems like hours of waiting.

“Hey, — is Eddie there?”

A scoff is heard from the other end of the phone, followed by an annoyed voice, “Why who wants to know?”

You don’t have time for childish games with whoever this fucking prick is. “Jesus Christ what is it with assholes today? Is he there or no?”

“I don’t know, you stupid bitch— why don’t you tell me if Eddie is here or—”

A scuffle is heard as the phone falls to the ground.

“What the fuck did I tell you? Huh? I’ll drop your ass just name the time and place mother fuck— hello?”

“Eddie?” You ask exhaustedly.

“Tooty? Oh shit, you miss me so much you’re making calls to my work?”

“E—” you begin, frustration rising.

“Or did you call to gossip? Ooooh, tell me all about the salon drama, is it that blonde again, damn just slap her already I know you want to.”

“Ed—!”

“Shit if you’re worried about going to jail I’ll come bail y—”

“Edward Joseph Munson!”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, “Did you just use my full name? I only hear that when I’m in trouble with Wayne.”

“Will you listen to me?! I need help. I’m at the gas station east of town and my car won’t start.”

“What? What happened?” Eddie asks, his joking tone immediately fading to concern.

“I have no idea, but I’m already late for work—can you come pick me up?”

“Usually this is where a please would be.”

“Eddie!”

“Ooh even begging?”

“Goddamnit,” you say under your breath, “Eddie will you please, come get me?”

“That a girl, see that wasn’t so hard. So where are you?”

Eddie rolls up in an old orange and white tow truck, head banging with a cigarette hanging limply from his bottom lip. “So what happened?”

“Well I drove here, got gas, and then it just wouldn’t start.”

“Damn, I wonder if your starter is out.”

“Great, so what the hell does that mean?”

“Well, I’m not sure if it is that or not, but if it’s not that— it means that your car is probably going to need more work than it’s worth, but I won’t know until I get it in the shop.”

“Son of a bitch.” you curse, covering your face with your hands and tipping your head back up to the sky. Could this fucking day get any worse?

After buying the house last year, your savings were completely wiped out, the last few months you had been pinching pennies trying to build it back up

“I’ll tow it, but I don’t think Boom has any loaners right now,” Eddie explains, “but since I’m such a kind, handsome, good roommate….”

You roll your eyes.

“I’ll bring you to work.”

Shock evident on your face, “You sure?”

“I mean its either that or the city bus, and last I checked—Hawkins doesn’t have one.”

Eddie agrees to give you a ride until your car is fixed on one condition, the band gets to use the garage for practices again. Too tired to fight with him, you give in.

He backs the truck up, moving the steering wheel with one hand the other hanging out of the window, his tongue poked out through his lips. He jumps down from the truck and maneuvers the wheel lift into place by your front tires.

The muscles in his forearms jut out, tattoos dancing with each movement and covered in a thin sheet of sweat as he grabs the chains from the flatbed and hooks them along your front tires, securing them into place. Your car is lifted slightly giving enough clearance to be able to tow.

“Ready?”

Bouncing along side Eddie in the tow truck you sigh heavily, “fuck, I hate Mondays.”

“Okay, Garfield,” Eddie chuckles, turning down the radio and glancing towards you, a cigarette balanced between his teeth, “could always be worse,” he digs into his front pocket for his pack of cigarettes and hands them to you.

You smile weakly and take the pack from him, plucking a tanned filter from the pack and shoving it between your lips. Before you can even say that your lighter is in the car, he’s leaning over. A scratched zippo with a fading design on it, in his hand already flicked open, the flame threatening to go out with the help of the lazy breeze through the open driver’s side window. It’s the same lighter he’s had since you first bummed a cigarette from him when you were thirteen.

Leaning towards him you put the cigarette into the flame, inhaling deep— the cowboy killers burning the pinky tissue of your lungs. He flicks the lighter closed with a metallic snap and smiles out of the corner of his mouth at you. Suddenly your lungs aren’t the only thing burning.

“Thanks,” you say, trying to avoid the skips in your stomach, “I usually prefer menthols, but I guess, these’ll do,”

“Always gotta bust my balls dontchya?” Eddie laughs, a stream of smoke billowing out from his nose. “Hey, uh— I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but that gas station is rated 5 stars on the creepiest place in town.”

You glare your eyes at him, absolutely not having it, “they have cheap gas.”

“There’s a reason for that, and every drug dealer in town sells out of there,” Eddie scolds.

“You would know,” you say in a hateful tone.

“You’re right,” Eddie protests, looking at you earnestly, “I would know— it’s not a good place to be— no matter what time of day, so stay away from it.”

You knew he was trying to look out for you, and from what Steve said, — he blamed himself for the things Chad did to you. But it was never his fault, he didn’t know just like most of Hawkins didn’t. You lived with the Wheeler’s and not even they noticed until you walked home that night. You decide to let it be. For once in your life agreeing to what he had to say.

“Alright,”

Boom’s was on the opposite side of town, the rest of the drive you listened to Eddie hum along to the radio and snuck a peek at him playing air guitar. Despite him being so foul, and a royal pain in the ass, he was actually a decent human being.

No other men in their twenties could help you through your panic attack, aside from Steve. But Eddie? He was different from Steve in ways that you couldn’t grasp. You didn’t find yourself staring at Steve. Even if you had been swimming with him on more occasions than you can count. Sure he was good looking, but you never once understood why the girls at the pool practically flocked to him. Eddie hardly ever wore a shirt around you and your stomach ached each time you saw his broad shoulders and tattoos. Steve was like a brother to you, he scolded you and gave you advice, all with his hands permanently attached to his hips. A mother hen among his friends. Eddie teased and taunted you, his irritating behavior and the way he chewed his food, the way his hair was everywhere in the bathroom, the way his hair looked when he was fresh out of the shower, a towel slung on his hips. The way his hips made a ‘V’, small trail of hair from his belly button to his waistband. Fuck.

Is it hot in here?

What the hell were you doing?

There’s no way.

No fucking way.

Nope, not today.

Not ever.

…

But what if?

Eddie couldn’t understand what was going on with you in the passenger seat. Instead of bitching at him like normal, you were staring out the window. Looking as if you were fighting a storm in your cute little head. Maybe you were reliving the past. Silently suffering through something that he should have been there to stop. But judging from your reflection against the dirty window, you didn’t seem to be crying.

After that night, Eddie was putting in more effort to make sure you felt safe. He gave you distance. Avoided the bathroom in the morning, and stopped making dick jokes altogether. He still joked around, still acted like an idiot— but his perverted meter was dipped into the green zone, the safety net.

He meant what he said, you didn’t have to be afraid with him around. And he would do whatever he could to prove that to you. So when you called Boom’s earlier and asked for help— he dropped everything to make the trek across town to pick you up. Especially when you told him the gas station you were at. Known for being the skeeziest one in town, he worried about you being there alone.

Seeing the tow truck pull into the parking lot, Sean and Aaron had their noses pressed against the glass, the cheap flimsy blinds hung crooked over their heads.

“Damn,” Aaron exclaims, “you were right, that is her.”

“Told you, Munson hasn’t shut up about her since he moved in. Wonder if Chad knows where she’s been hiding.”

Eddie parks the tow truck and you both climb out. He gives you the keys to his van and tells you he’d be right back. Walking into the shop with a whistle on his tongue, he goes into Boom’s office. He’s sitting at a worn down wooden desk. Papers, and receipts clutter space where a framed family picture might be. A steaming styrofoam cup of coffee in Boom’s left hand suggested he stopped at the donut mart, and a dozen of glazed holes from heaven would be sitting in the break room, their sweetness tantalizing the crew all day.

Eddie raps his knuckles against the yellowed paint by the door frame.

‘Yep,” Boom chirps without looking up, reading the daily arrest records in the Hawkins Post.

“Hey, I brought Tooty’s Escort back, I’m going to bring her to work quick and when I get back I’ll move it.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Boom gripes, not looking up from the paper, sipping the coffee slowly.

“Dunno, I’ll take a look at it— “ Eddie shifts his weight from one foot to another, “I was wondering if I could maybe work on it after hours, or on the weekends.”

Boom considers what Eddie is saying, “off the clock?”

“Yeah, or maybe I could take some of my tools home? Work on it there?”

Boom thinks for a while, taking a sip of his coffee. His pudgy finger hovering near the name “William Hargrove” mulling over if he knew him. He finally looks up, “Whatever you wanna do, Eddie, you’ve got keys—I trust you.” Boom offers, “just don’t let those other two jackasses know what you’re doing and who for— that’s all they’ve been yappin’ about since you left this morning.

Eddie rolls his eyes, “I’m just helping out a friend, don’t know why they give a fuck.”

“Personally, I don’t give a shit— but you’re my best mechanic, and those other two are on their last strike with me. One more time I read their name in this paper and they’re both out of here, and when that time comes— I’m sure they’ll be lookin’ for someone to blame.”

The familiar scent of stale weed and a spilled rotting beer in the back of the van flood your nose. Even though his van was a dirty pile of shit and it stunk like hell, you’re thankful for Eddie taking time out of his day to help you.

He could have easily told you to fuck off, hung up on you the minute you called. But he didn’t. He kept good on his word even when he didn’t have to. He doesn’t owe you anything and yet here he was, proving to you again, that he could be someone to rely on. You peer at him through your lashes, falling deep into a spell of fondness. He was always clean shaven, showing off his babyish features. If you didn’t know his age you wouldn’t guess he was over twenty two, his youthful pale skin a glow like the moon across a lake at midnight. The deep browns of his eyes squint in the bright sun, his dark eyelashes almost kissing his cheeks. His thick ringed fingers tapping on the steering wheel as ‘Holy Diver’ plays gently in the background. The bob of his Adam's apple jutting out as he swallows and takes a drag from a cigarette.

You barely recognize your own voice when you say barely above a whisper, “thank you, by the way— not just for today but for the other night,” your fingers go back to the same nervous habit, twiddling the end of your cream lettuce hem shirt.

“Of course,” he says, a look of shock on his face, “I know I like to give you shit, but I wouldn’t leave you stranded somewhere.” He looks over at you lazily and smiles. The kind of smile associated with cool guys on tv, the kind of smile that’s crooked and truly only on one side of the face. And for the first time, you smile too, letting the warmth radiate through your body, venturing into places that you have to readjust your crossed legs to avoid entirely.

Pulling into the backlot of the salon, where you and Nancy smoke cigarettes and read trash magazines, you jump out thanking him again, the creak of the door slamming back into the frame as you wave goodbye.

“What time?” Eddie yelled after you, silently admiring the way the sun catches your face, highlighting your features, the slight breeze catching your hair, he can’t help the smile that dances on his lips. “What time are you off work?”

Walking back to him, he’s leaning his head back on the head rest, an arm hanging out of the window, a stupid grin on his face.

“My last client is at five and it’s just a cut, so probably six o’clock, why?” A creep of jittery shock threatens your nerves, fluttering your stomach and sending waves of fluster through your body.

“Thought I’d pick you up, unless you wanna walk home?” He smirks, tracing the small paint chip near where his fingers set on the door.

Biting your lip and moving back on your heels you make your way back to the door, “Okay.”

“Alright, I’ll be back at six.”

“Six” you repeat, turning on your heel and walking into the salon.

Eddie has thought about you all day, the cards of life and the hand you were dealt were shitty. But he was happy he was around to help in any little way he could. He thought maybe he was crazy, seeing shit when you smiled at him, a sort of shyness in the way you flirted by dipping your head into your shoulder almost giddy at him picking you up.

But that couldn’t be.

The rest of your day was monotonous. Shampoo sets, perms, cuts, rinse and repeat. The long haired metalhead hardly left your mind. When it’s just you and Josie left in the salon after your last appointment, it’s 5:30. She sits down, exhaling loudly. Her long dark braids trailing to her waist, cascade down the length of the chair as she leans back.

“Broke down again? Girl, you need a car that actually works.” Her hot pink fingernails dip into a bag of skittles, popping them into her mouth.

“I know,” you sigh, throwing yourself into your salon chair, “hopefully in the next few months I’ll have enough saved to get myself a new one.”

“So how did you get here? If we had someone else in the salon today I would have came and picked you up,” her mouth puckered into a sucking expression as she pops another skittle into her mouth.

“My roommate… he works at Boom’s so he towed it there and then brought me to work,” you express nonchalantly.

“Ooh the rich one who you used to work with?”

“Steve?” You say with a laugh, “No, Eddie Munson.”

“Eddie Munson? Why does that name sound so familiar? Ohh the infamous Hawkins bad boy, my cousins used to run around with him, some club or somethin’ ”

“Yeah, that's him, he’s turned himself around quite a bit since high school though.” The annoying need to defend him is obvious in your tone.

Josie’s eyes go wide, “Wait—“ she says, pointing a pink nail at you, “he had a girlfriend. He’s living with you? Shit, you’re a brave one.”

Heat creeps to your cheeks, the thought of Eddie having a secret girlfriend that you didn’t know about was almost torture on your soul, “no, no girlfriend… that I’m aware of at least.”

Speak of the devil and he will be present.

Opening the door with the sun waning behind him, peeking an orangy-yellow glow through his unruly curls, stood Eddie. His coveralls are full of motor oil and brake fluid. Black grease is smeared across his face, and his hands. Bandana still snug around his head.

“Oh shit,” Eddie blurts, eyes scanning around the room, bouncing from your face to Josie’s. Clearly uncomfortable in such a clean establishment. “Sorry, I’m uhh, a little early.”

Josie’s eyebrows are turned up in shock, her mouth slightly agape. “Damn, you’re the roommate!?”

Before she can embarrass you any further you blurt, “Josie, this is Eddie,” holding out a hand and pointing, introducing him to her, “Eddie this is my boss and the owner of the salon, Josie.”

Eddie waves with his fingers, “so you’re the one lookin’ after our girl here, the mechanic?” Josie asks.

“Uhh, yeah that’s me.” he puts a hand on the back of his neck and rubs it slow

Josie stands and walks towards you, a clicking of her heels and munching on her candy as she grabs your hand and drags you upwards, dragging you to the back of the salon.

Eddie looks around the room. The salon is decorated in light washes of pink and green and flowers decorate almost every surface, White painted baskets hang from the ceiling holding fake flowers. The salon chairs are black as are the mats under them. Green sinks in the back and cabinets overhead. Two mirrors on each wall and station with a name and family pictures decorate them. Eddie can’t help but notice that where you were sitting, there are only three pictures. A photo of you and Nancy looking like it was taken last summer, you’re holding up the keys to the blue ranch style house he now calls home. Another picture is of you Robin and Steve, in green Family Video Vests in front of the counter. You and Robin are both pulling one of Steve’s ears and he’s making a monkey face. The last picture is of you and Eyeball as kids, a portrait more than likely taken at a JC Penney’s.

“Don’t forget to lock up, okay? Enjoy your day off tomorrow. Eddie, be good to her!” Josie calls from the back, the heavy metal door slamming as she leaves for the night, a smile painted on her lips, shaking her head.

You walk back towards Eddie, he’s sitting in your chair, poking around at all of the different brushes and curling irons that were on your station. Your tired eyes scan him and find him in the mirror. “What is all this shit?”

“My tools to style, cut and color people’s hair.”

You’re standing behind him. You hesitantly grab one of his curls in between your fingers, noting how silky and smooth his hair is despite the split ends. “You could probably use a trim, Eddie. When was the last time you had your hair cut?”

“You think these curls have been in a salon? Please! I cut it myself thank you,”

“I can tell,” you mutter under your breath, going full hog and untying his sweaty bandana and tossing it onto the counter. “Come on, let’s go wash your hair, and then I’m gonna give you a trim.”

“You’re not cutting my hair.” Eddie protests, arms crossed and resisting.

“Your ends are dead, if you don’t take care of it now, it’ll keep going further up and then you’ll have to shave your head.”

Eddie practically trips standing up quickly. “Those are fighting words.”

“Do you really think I’d do that?” You ask in a bored tone.

“Actually no, but— okay fine! Only because you went to some fancy school.”

Eddie stomps over to the sink and sits down with a plop in the smooth cushioned black chair. You follow behind him and place your apron back around your neck, tightening it around your back. You lean his chair back telling him to lift his head from the headrest as you gather his curls into the basin.

Turning on the water and testing the temperature on your wrist, like a mother testing a bottle making sure it isn’t too hot for a baby, you gently put the spray into the ends of Eddie’s hair, gently working the spray up the length of his head to his scalp.

“Is the water okay?”

“Ow, holy shit!” Eddie yelps, his body flopping around like a fish out of water. You immediately turn the faucet the other way, apologizing profusely until you realize Eddie is shaking with laughter.

“Oh fuck, … you…” more laughing as he chokes out his words, “should have seen your face.” He mimics your face and bursts into a fit of giggles, you aren’t sure how long he would have kept it up if you didn’t put the hose directly into his face and throw a towel at him.

“Wipe that grin off your face or I’ll wax your eyebrows.” You spit at him, letting out a small laugh.

Mumbling from under the towel is faint but you swear you hear the word bikini.

Eddie finished cleaning his face and lays his head back into the sink again, you don’t ask this time but immediately start wetting his hair. “So,” he says, closing his eyes, so water won’t get in them, “I think I figured out what is wrong with your car.”

“Oh really? Is it going to be an easy fix?”

Not wanting to admit to you that he was working on your car for free or that he would borrow as many tools as he had to to get your car fixed, he settles for a half truth.

“Shouldn’t be too bad, gotta get some parts ordered for it.”

You let out a groan, “oh God— how much are they?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I just said, don’t worry about it, now treat me like one of your clients and tell me all the hot gossip in your life.”

Taking three giant pumps from the white shampoo bottle in the cabinet, you gently massage it into his scalp. Letting the cool smooth pearlescent liquid suds up. His hair feels like brown ropes of silk in your hands. All the years of having your hands in someone else’s hair were nothing compared to the odd feeling of lightly working the suds into Eddie’s mane. Baby soft. Luxurious in ways that contradicted the metalhead image he wore so well like a coat of armor.

You weren’t the only one admiring the way his hair felt in your hands.

Eddie is fighting hard not to melt into a puddle right there in Josie’s salon. Your hands were like magic against his scalp, your nails lightly scratching small circles against his skull. He was sure he’d fall asleep if he kept his eyes closed for any longer. It was the closest thing he could compare to what heaven would be like. Hints of tropical coconut mixed with crushed pineapple filled the air. He didn’t even realize you were talking until he opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of your mouth moving over him. Your face was concentrating on the story that you were telling, but it fell on deaf ears. He was in a trance. The scrape of your nails against his head was almost pornographic to him. The way your eyes were trained on the job at hand. The way your lips parted and moved as you told the story. The animated look in your eyes, sparkling with each slow blink, your eyelashes teasing him.

He had never noticed the features of your face before. Usually if he was this close you were staring up at him and pointing one of those glorious fingernails into his chest, yelling at him— eyebrows pulled in, your face set in a scowl. But now here you were, scratching an itch he didn’t know he had. Filling a void he wasn’t aware was missing. He could die right now and he wouldn’t even know it. It was almost orgasmic the way you were making him feel, all with just simply washing his hair.

He caught himself before you could notice it. He crossed his legs and willed himself to think of anything else. Shutting his eyes and imagining the least sexy thing he could think of. Not wanting to ruin the moment between you both and make you never want to trust him again because he had got an accidental semi while staring at you while you were wrist deep in shampoo, scrubbing his scalp like a woman in the 1800s washing clothes on a board in the creek bed.

Nobody had ever washed his hair before, that he could remember at least. He never wanted it to end.

“…but that’s crazy right? Like she’s a psycho!” The hazy fog of lust finally left Eddie’s mind, his other four senses returning. Looking at your face and seeing that you were hurt by the story you had explained, and ashamed that he wasn’t even listening, he agreed, not even knowing if he should.

“What a bitch.”

You giggled, smiling down at him. Finally realizing you had been scrubbing his hair for almost five minutes, lost in the story. A stupid distraction to force yourself away from the feeling of the silk length of his hair, the way it felt in your fingers. Not wanting to let it slip away. You gather it all in one hand and grab the hose with the other, starting at the crown of his forehead, you rinse the suds from his hair.

Bubbles circle the basin. Disappearing down the drain along with the same shared feelings of lust and yearning. Shoved down deep away from the surface, hidden beneath hardened surfaces, shielded away from the inner depths of the softening heart.

You ended up cutting half an inch from Eddie’s curls, careful to not lose yourself in his hair again, almost cutting yourself in the process. Hee watched with wide sad brown eyes with each snip. “It’s like I’m watching you cut parts of my soul away.”

You roll your eyes, “It’ll grow back, and when it does it’ll be healthier and longer.”

His bangs were the next to be trimmed, not even half an inch taken off. You place a leave-in conditioner spray to keep his curls soft and to help with the tangles. Knowing full well that Eddie didn’t even own a hair brush.

When you finish and are sweeping up his curls, Eddie stands shaking his head like a dog and running his fingers through it. “Alright, I’ll admit, it does feel better.”

Since the agreement was made for the band to practice every other day of the week in the garage, Eddie had been bringing you to work, and picking you up. On days the band wouldn’t be practicing, when he dropped you at home, he would leave immediately after, sometimes not showing up again until midnight. Coming home tired as all hell, and just like you had done weeks before, a Tupperware of food with instructions on how to warm it up taped to the lid, would be waiting for him in the fridge, each and every time.

There was no more yelling from you when the three members of Corroded Coffin showed up. There were also no more beer cans or greasy food wrappers on the ground either. Instead a trash can sat in the corner, and Eddie paid for pizza after you ordered it.

Actually the band was pretty good. You would never tell him that, that would simply go to his head. And with the ego he already had, he didn’t need another boost of confidence, leave that for the groupies. So every Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday night the band got together, playing covers from their beloved 80’s metal Gods and sometimes original songs they would write. All of them thankful that you let them practice in the garage, Big D picking you up into a bear hug and swinging you around like a rag doll.

“Jesus Christ, D, this is why the ladies run from you, you’re too aggressive, put her down!” Eddie barks. A pang of burning in his chest at the sight of you in someone else’s arms.

Big D sets you down and apologizes, “sorry Toots, and hey speaking of ladies, whatever happened with you and those hotter than hell twins?”

“Oh shit, Gareth hollered, “Fuck dude they were all over him, surprised he’s even able to walk with the way they were strung around him like cats in heat. You usually can’t wait to tell us about it, bragging until the next gig about it at least.”

“That’s cause he probably didn’t do shit, too chicken shit to handle them.”

Your stomach flips, so it wasn’t something you remembered wrong, there were two girls that Eddie had brought home that night. A strange feeling of angst washes over you, coating your mind with uncertainty mixed with inadequacy. Your cheeks warm, embarrassed by the way you are feeling. Excusing yourself to go order the pizza, you don’t see the way Eddie dismisses the guys, blowing them off with a “why don’t we keep our sexcapades to ourselves.” Or the way he throws a full beer at Big D.

After ordering the Corroded Coffin special, two large pepperonis, two large sweet and swine, and an extra large order of cheesy breadsticks— you go into the cupboard and bring out several bags of chips and five paper plates. Your favorite, sour cream and onion, and Eddie’s favorite, cool ranch Doritos. You let your mind wander. Thinking about him with those two girls. Realizing this is probably where he went at night after he dropped you off.

No need to feel like that when he was just your roommate, you shake the jealousy from your head. Just Eddie. Barely a friend. Yet he was still going out of his way to take you to work every day, till doing the chores you both shared. You let the silly feelings drop, carrying the chips and plates to the garage, shutting the door behind you. Pulling up your usual lawn chair, listen to the band play and finish painting your toenails.

When the boys end the song, they start again on the conversation they had started before playing, “dude I’m not dressing up as KISS again this year,” Jeff whines to Gareth “took me forever to get that white paint off my face. And don’t even get me started on the eyeliner.”

A spray of beer soaks the ground as Eddie spits it out, laughing hysterically about the memory of watching Jeff struggle lining his eyes like Paul Stanley. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “yeah I agree, I’m not painting your ugly mugs again this year, what else are you thinkin’?”

“We could all be different villains from scary movies. Freddy, Jason, Michael Myers’s, and Pinhead.” Big D suggests, taking a drag from his cigarette.

“Nah, no chicks wanna fuck something scary. I don’t know about you— but I tried all of last Halloween to get some tail and no girl would even look my way with all that clown paint on.” Gareth huffs twirling his drum sticks in his fingers.

“What about you Tooty?” Eddie asks earnestly, “Do you and Robin go bar hoppin’ on Halloween or do you usually stay home like an old lady knitting sweaters and handing out black licorice and molding fruit?”

Making a face at him, you paint the last coat of polish on your toe nail. “Actually, Nancy and I usually throw a party. Costume contests, kegs, beer pong… we kinda go all out.”

Eddie picks his jaw up from the floor, scoffing, “no way— Nancy Wheeler and you, throwing a rager on Halloween? I don’t buy it.”

“Call Steve and ask him, he’s the reigning Cherry Lane Halloween costume contest winner for two years running.” You say with a smirk on your lips, stretching your legs and crossing them at your ankles, the pretty maroon polish catching the dim light in the garage. “You guys are more than welcome to come, obviously it’s on Halloween night, and the only stipulation is to bring a good costume, and $5 for the keg.”

Eddie moves his tongue over his teeth, twisting his body to look at his band mates, all three of them shrugging and nodding. “Yeah, we’ll be here,

“Yeah, if you think you’re up for it. Sure.” You say nonchalantly.

The smell of mildew and damp carpet currently being air dried with a fan stung your nose. The soggy basement and the crumbling foundation of Sally’s Secondhand in downtown Hawkins was a hidden gem and only open in the afternoons on Mondays and Wednesdays, but they had decent prices and good quality items when you were in a pinch if you could learn to breathe through your mouth for the time you were there.

“So how’s the roomie situation going?” Nancy asks, holding up a hand mixer with two mixing parts and a wooden handle labeled for .10¢. You had scored gold when you found a gently used, practically brand new waffle iron. It was wedged between two cook books for only $2. The same one Karen Wheeler had used on Sunday mornings. You were hunting for discounted Halloween decorations still not sure on what you were going to dress as and Halloween was this Saturday, Nancy was searching for spare camera parts for Jonathan and a toy cowboy hat for her costume that she wouldn’t tell you about.

Putting a masking taped bundle of forks into the blue plastic grocery basket, your forks magically kept disappearing everytime Eddie brought leftovers to work, you let out a sigh, “It’s going okay, better than it was in the beginning. He’s fixing my car up and I cut his hair a few weeks ago. I um.. also told him about Chad.”

Nancy stops dead in her tracks, blue eyes wide, her small mouth agape, “wh-what?!” Nancy was shocked at the news, you nonchalantly delivered like saying ‘fine’ when some asked how you were. She knew how frightening that situation was for you, it was scary for her too. Seeing someone she loved and cared about hurt in ways she couldn’t even fathom.

“We ran into him while getting groceries—like a month ago. I had a full blown panic attack, and Eddie, he helped me through it.” You go into detail explaining everything that had happened. Leaving out the part of you being comforted by Eddie and the gentle way his thick hands caressed you while you sobbed into him like a child who lost their cat.

Nancy's face goes from shock and softens into content, “wow, honestly didn’t think he had a caring bone in his body, he always seemed like such an asshole.”

“I mean he still is, don’t get me wrong— I don’t think he’s giving donations to the local churches or anything, but he seems a little more reserved, if you will,” you say, adding a floral embroidered set of towels for every day of the week to your basket.

“Hmm,” Nancy says with raised eyebrows, and nodding her head, a silent confirmation of approval. Always looking up to Nancy, almost as if she was your real life sister, you admired her. She was always put together, whether you were shopping during the week or at home, she was stylish in a way that said, I will run the world, and have dinner on the table at 6. Her white huarache sandals matched her high waisted pink pastel shorts and white button sleeveless blouse. Effortlessly stunning.

Moving along the aisles you and Nancy both finger through the clothing racks. Pulling out neon prints and a pair Madonna—esque white lace gloves, they probably belonged to that muppet singing idiot, Tammy Thompson. Chuckling at how fashion trends in high school were borderline ridiculous. a denim vest in your size with safety pins on each hem gave you an idea for your costume. Finding everything you needed you were ecstatic to put it all together.

The carpet squashed beneath your feet the further you got into the store. The back room held vhs’s, records, tapes, and books. The records were in a milk carton next to a shelf of adult themed books. The fading sharpie written sign reading “Adult fiction for Women 25 cents” posted bold along the top of the shelf. Nancy discreetly placed, “Thursday and the Lady” by Patricia Matthews into her basket, covering it with matching salt and pepper shakers, a crimson tinge to her rouged cheeks.

Diving into the records you flip them towards you as you lazily scan through them. Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours, Thriller by Michael Jackson, Abbey Road by the Beatles, Kind of Blue by Miles Davis, stuck to the back of it was a small single, Ode to Billie Joe by Bobbie Gentry. It had been years since you heard it, tucking it into your basket, Nancy clears her throat nervously, the blush evident in her cheeks, “I’m ready if you are.”

The Saturday of Halloween the salon was closed, giving you Robin and Steve plenty of time to decorate for the party tonight. Eddie was working but was scheduled to get off around 5, just in time to come home and get his secret costume on.

Orange pumpkin printed garbage bags filled with autumn foliage lined the streets of Cherry Lane. Toilet paper streamers were in Mr. Derry’s tree, a prank the seniors of Hawkins High did to him every year, including egging his front door. Vinyl witches hung from doorknobs. Plastic ghosts holding jack-o-lanterns littered lawns. Fake strings of cotton resembling cobwebs with bendy plastic spider thrown around like glitter, lay atop shrubs. Orange lights were wrapped around the trees in your front yard, flimsy ghosts made of white sheets were hung from the branches. It was a child’s Halloween paradise.

“Higher, no lower, well now you’re just doing it wrong.” Steve was in charge of Robin who was in charge of decorations. The beer pong tournament would be in the basement, every strand of Christmas lights you could find were lighting the ceiling, table set up and cups in place. The tournament bracket started with Mike and El playing against Jeff and his girlfriend Ash. The kegs would be delivered later. Buckets ready for ice sitting on the deck. Robin and Steve were still arguing over who had the better costume last year. Twisting black and orange streamers together and hanging them in the doorway to the bathroom.

In the kitchen, you’re finishing up the Jell-O shots, small clear dishes full of cherry red jello made with everclear. A bitter threat to anyone brave enough to eat them. The spinach and artichoke dip is prepped in the fridge, along with 10 packages of crescent rolls, 5 packages of hotdogs, the fruit cut and ready to be put into Steve’s horrendous Jungle Juice that you would actively be avoiding. Nancy and Jonathan were bringing pinwheels and rotel dip. Dustin and Susie are in charge of bringing candy. It’s going to be a blast.

“Be right back,” Robin and Steve call out as they leave to go get their costumes. Putting the finishing touches on your costume your hand shakes with nervousness while swiping mascara on your lashes, the pre party jitters wracking your nerves. The ring of the doorbell startles you. The obnoxious ringing should be a dead giveaway but you don’t recognize it until the door is wide open and you’re face to face with Jesus Christ himself and three nuns. Or as you knew them, Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Big D.

You aren’t sure whose mouth is hanging open more. Yours or Eddie’s. Eddie is wearing a long sleeved cream colored gown, complete with a crimson sash. His usual black leather boots on his feet and a crucifix in his hand.

Eddie is the first to laugh, hands held out like he’s blessing the house before he enters it. “Aww sweetheart, you really are my #1 fan aren’t you?”

You are dressed as the most annoying on the planet, pain in the ass, voted most perverted of all of Hawkins: Eddie. When shopping with Nancy you found the vest, adding a few hand sewn patches and the best replica of Eddie’s DIO patch on the back, even shoving a pack of reds into the pocket, it looked pretty good. A twin of the aforementioned jackass. Borrowing Nancy’s cheap leather jacket when she went as Sandy from Grease last year, and putting holes into a pair of jeans and washing them as many times as you could to fray the edges, it was perfect. Complete with a horrible curly wig that you thought was a life dog upon seeing it.

“I was going for scary and scary annoying,” you shrug, “think I nailed it.”

“As hilarious and surprisingly accurate your costume is, the real winner for the party is going to be us” He gestured to him and the nuns. “figured I’d go as something that everyone says I need more of and you recognize the boys right? They’re dressed as your friends from work.”

The kegs finally show up and Eddie blesses the delivery man before he leaves. Fully throwing himself into character. Dustin and Susie are the first to arrive, dressed as Mrs. Doubtfire and Sally Ride, the first woman astronaut to go into space.

Dustin laughs so hard he cries at your costume. “Oh my God please you have to say, ‘forced conformity, it’s what’s killing the kids!’ Please Tooty Holy shit!”

Mimicking Eddie perfectly you saunter away and scream about society and how good Metallica is.

“Oh haha, so funny Tooty,” Eddie pouts, holding a beer funnel in his hands, “come on Henderson let’s see you put your money where your mouth is.”

The backyard is sprayed with foamy beer as Dustin very much can not put his money where his mouth is. Gareth’s up next, chugging like a champion and doing a lap around the backyard like he won a trophy. Eddie and Jeff shotgun beer, Eddie winning by a mile. Laughing and putting his hands in a praying gesture to bless Jeff for his shortcomings.

The rest of the party goers show up, Nancy is dressed like Annie Oakley wielding a fake shotgun and a straw cowboy hat and a long brown dress with fringe hanging from the shoulders. Jonathan and his long haired friend Argyle arrive behind Nancy dressed as Sonny & Cher. Argyle had given up the fast moving life in California once a Surfer Boys pizza arrived in Hawkins. He delivered to the house so much during the nights that Corroded Coffin was practicing that he had your order prepped and ready to go by the time you had called it in. He’d show up so blitzed out of his mind that he’d forget he was at work, sharing his different strains of weed with all the Corroded Coffin boys.

Robin and Steve are in the kitchen, ladling jungle juice into empty cups. The duo dressed as Thelma and Louise, Robin wearing a black muscle shirt and sunglasses, and Steve wore a white tank top with a neckerchief. Both talking in horrible southern accents.

Eddie is standing next to Argyle in the living room both holding almost empty cups of the forbidden jungle juice, deep in conversation about something called Purple Palm Tree Delight, but knowing them, it had nothing to do with a lavender paradise. You reach around Eddie to grab a pinwheel, taking a bite when Argyle, clearly stoned, goes wide eyed leaning into Eddie his eyes still transfixed on you he whisper yells.

“Yo, I swear to God, I just saw two of you.”

“Argyle it’s me, Tooty.” You explain standing next in front of them trying not to laugh. “This is the real Eddie, I’m just dressed like him for Halloween.”

Argyle leans forward and whispers into your ear, “Yeah okay man that’s what the aliens would say before they clone us and take over.”

He leans back and takes two big steps backwards, eyes wide in a horrified daze, before disappearing down into the basement.

“Don’t think I’ve ever said this before, but that guy smokes way too much.” Eddie chuckles, downing the rest of his jungle juice and eating the fruit at the bottom of the cup.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” you warn him watching with your own gut twisting as the sweet juices of strawberry slither down his chin and down the slope of his neck.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says, smacking his lips, “I’m twenty six years old, I can handle my liquor.”

“Okay,” you reply, “just so you know, the fruit soaks up all the alcohol and Steve presoaks it all in everclear the night before. Last time he ate all the fruit he spent an hour in the bathroom crying about his love life or lack thereof. And besides, we have to play in the pong tournament in a half hour.”

“We?” Eddie asks, lips turned up and a slight blush to his cheeks, “I didn’t sign up for beer pong.” His dark eyes pour into yours.

Heat creeps up your neck as you reach for a Jell-O shot cracking the lid off and circling the dish with your finger before sucking it into your mouth.

“I signed you up,” you say, reaching for another Jell-O shot, “everyone had a partner but Argyle and Will, so I paired you with Argyle, and I’m with Will,” you slide your finger around the Jell-O dish and suck the cherry gelatin into your mouth, savoring the bitter bite to your tongue before you crush it between your teeth.

“You better bring your A game Munson,” you say, taking a step into him and poking him in the chest, “because I don’t lose.”

Eddie isn’t sure if it’s the alcohol that’s making him feel this way or you but suddenly he can’t stop blushing, laying the charm on thicker than peanut butter, “oh really?” he asks intrigued, “Well babe, I don’t think you know this but I’m the Forest Hills Trailer Park Pong Champion for eight summers in a row, so technically,” he’s leaning forward now, whispering low to get his point across. Your breath hitches in your throat, you can feel the tickle of his lips against your ear, his hair is brushing against your face, the faint smell of motor oil stuck in his curls, “I never lose either.”

He pulls back and your eyes lock. The heat flooding your cheeks burn, the ache in your stomach travels south and pulses with want. You can’t deny it to yourself, even dressed as Jesus Christ, Eddie is the best looking guy you’ve laid eyes on, and you were melting at the way his dark eyes gazed into yours, a smirk placed on his lips as he brushes his tongue over his bottom lip to catch the remnants of the horrific fruit juice. His eyes never leave yours as he takes the Jell-O shot dish you’re holding and sets it behind him on the table. The tension could be cut with a knife, thick and heavily hanging in the space between you both. Eddie opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by El screaming for Mike to get to the backyard instead of puking in the kitchen sink. Her Alice in Wonderland wig askew on her head and holding Mike’s mad hatter hat between her hands.

Running to open the sliding door you get it open just in time for Mike to projectile vomit off the deck.

“Christ, what did he eat?” Eddie asks from behind you, “damn Mike you’re such a pussy!”

“His dumbass didn’t eat all day and when he got here he decided that Jell-O and fruit would be a good option.” El says, rubbing his back as he pukes again and again, “I don’t feel bad for you Mike!”

Wiping his mouth on his forest green jacket sleeve, he murmurs, “Babe, I’m fine, seriously, a few pieces of bread and I’ll be in tip top sh—“ puke splatters wetly against the grass again.

You grab El’s hand and squeeze, “let me know if you need anything, okay?” She nods and smiles sweetly.

“C’mon,” Eddie says behind you, “let’s go so I can kick your ass in beer pong.”

You turn your head, half facing him, “game on, Munson.”

The sharpie bracket on poster board continued moving forward thanks to Steve’s basketball knowledge. Jeff and Ash beat Mike and El, Nancy and Jonathan beat out Gareth and Big D in a very close came both opponents having one cup left. Steve and Robin were beat out in the first round by Dustin and Susie, something King Steve would never be living down. Nex on the bracket to play would be you and Will playing Argyle and Eddie. Honestly it should be a piece of cake, a walk in the park. Will wasn’t the most athletic but last year him and Jonathan got second place against you and Nancy so the odds were pretty high. One thing you were absolutely certain of was that you would not be losing to Jesus and Cher tonight.

The basement is packed with everyone besides the ill Mike and faithful El. Argyle and a pink lensed Will are in the corner smoking a fat blunt the sequin jacket he’s wearing sparkles through the haze of smoke and the catches the lights. You haven’t seen him since Nancy and Jonathan’s wedding. But he’s letting his hair grow out, finally letting the bowl cut Joyce insisted on him having all throughout middle school and high school go. Steve has Dustin in a headlock for teasing him about winning against Mr. Hawkins High basketball star of 1985.

“Ya know for once, I was actually good, like really good, Steve overthrew the last cup and it was game over once Susie got the ball. She’s strangely amazing at beer pong. Probably found the mathematical equation from the distance of the table and her elbow to the solo cups.” Robin rambles on, only stopping to get her breath. “How are you? I haven’t seen you all night. Killer costume by the way, if you can’t beat ‘em be ‘em right?”

Robin and her absolute no filter mouth, always make you laugh, linking your arm with hers, “I really like your and Steve’s take on best friends driving off a cliff together to evade police.”

“JESUS CHRIST!” someone yells from upstairs.

Not missing a beat, Eddie can be heard returning the exclamation. “You rang?”

Rolling your eyes and looking his way, you laugh when you see him, holding up his arms in praise.

Robin’s voice bringing you back to the conversation, “Epic right? Steve thought we could be conjoined twins but then decided against it when he figured there was a small chance he could possibly get lucky tonight when that black haired girl at his job kept hinting that she wanted a date with him.”

“What!” you shout, “He never told me this!”

Robin rolls her eyes and takes another drink from her too foamy beer, “he’s nervous, I think he really likes her but doesn’t wanna fuck it up like he does everything else.”

Steve deserved to be happy and to have someone love him. He was always making sure everyone else was okay, you smile at the thought of him with a girlfriend.

“So,” Robin presses, wiggling her eyebrows, “Eddie looks good tonight,” a wicked smile dances wildly on her lips.

“I’m not at all buzzed enough to have this conversation,” you say, taking a peak at Eddie through your eyelashes, he was laughing loudly at something Steve had said, head thrown back, exposing his neck.

Will joins your side, reeking of weed and heavy musk cologne. “Tooty!” He squeals, wrapping you into a tight hug, “the house looks so fucking good I can’t believe it, also I heard that you’re living with Eddie? I’m going to need all the details!”

“It’s so good to see you, look at your hair!” You say holding his arms. Will threads a hand through his hair and laughs a little.

“Thanks, it’s new but it’s kinda growing on me, now, spill it. Tell me everything.”

“Next game!” Nancy announces, advancing her and Jonathan to the next bracket. “Argyle/ Eddie vs Tooty/ Will.”

Will grabs your hand and drags you to the beer pong table, “after?” He asks and you nod your head.

Eddie and Argyle are standing on one end, you and Will on the other. The cups are arranged into a triangle and filled with the warming pitcher of keg beer.

“You ready to go down groveling, sweetheart?” Eddie sings from across the table, eyes squinting when he leans on the edge of the table smiling at you.

Your stomach flutters, taking a long swig of Will’s jungle juice, staring Eddie down as you gulp the vile liquor and fruit punch combo down, “You ready to get your ass kicked, Munson?”

“Woo! That’s balls back ba-by,” you sneer, hooting and hollering as Eddie begrudgingly tosses the balls back your way. It was almost as if Argyle and Will weren’t even there, this game was between you and Eddie. You were definitely buzzed, between the warm beer and the Jell-O shots you had eaten you were feeling good.

When you miss the first cup, Eddie makes devil horns at you and howls at the moon like an idiot. You sink the next cup, earning a high-five from Will, and a sly grin from Eddie as he removes the cup and chugs the warm beer. He’s secretly excited that you’re so happy, letting loose, in your element, surrounded by your loving friends. You glowing with a sense of freedom. In that moment when your eyes caught his, he knew he was in trouble, you were wrapped around his finger and he didn’t think of hardly anything else, but you, your beautiful smile, the way your hair caught each light you were under. He was in deep, and for right now, he was perfectly and utterly okay with that.

It’s Argyle’s turn and he surprisingly sinks both cups, being awarded with balls back, as you and Will each take a cup and drink the suds down. Trying to distract him, you whip off your Eddie- esque wig and toss it towards Eddie, shaking your hair out like a wild woman.

Unphased by your antics he does it again and you groan. Four in a row? This guy was half asleep the entire game and all of a sudden he’s an athlete? They only have 1 cup left. Tension rises and the room goes to silence at Steve’s request. Argyle sinks it. Eddie erupts into cheers grabbing Argyle by the shoulders and jumping up and down.

“Redemption attempt!” Steve shouts, giving Will the ball. Will takes it with nervous fingers, blowing the ball to dry it slightly as you chug the last cup. He only has two cups to make. Will tosses the ball and the room goes silent, it feels like it’s in slow motion, or maybe that’s the alcohol. The ball soars through the air, bouncing against the rim of the cup lapping up the foamy beer, before it falls off and teeters off onto the table.

Argyle raises both hands in the air, “VICTORY!” the room erupts with cheers. Will apologizes profusely but you hug him tight, telling him you were happy he was your partner.

“Next game is Jonathan/Nancy vs Jeff/ Ash starting in 20 mins!” Steve hollers. The basement clears out as people go upstairs to use the bathroom and refill their drinks.

You expect Eddie to be gloating, cocky beyond belief. But he’s the opposite, coming up to you slowly, head bowed, upper teeth practically biting his lower lip in half.

“Good game sweetheart,” he says barely above a whisper, “not gonna lie, I really thought you guys were gonna win.”

Holding your chin high, face only inches from his, the brown pools of colored whiskey stare into your eyes. Placing a hand on his chest, the alcohol gives you enough of a push to cross the line. The thin gauzy material of the gown he’s wearing is sticky with sweat and warm from the heat radiating from his body. “Told myself I wouldn’t lose to Cher and Jesus tonight.”

Eddie let’s out a throaty laugh, “can’t believe he pulled that off, he didn’t make a cup all game.”

“Guess you get to continue wearing that tarnished crown, speaking of wardrobe… where the hell did you get this outfit?”

“You know that church across from the police station?”

“The one with the Jesus statue inside?”

Eddie raises his eyebrows and gives you a knowing glance, waiting for you to catch on.

“No way! Eddie! You broke into a church and stole an outfit off of a statue?”

“Amen,” Eddie says roaring with laughter, “ahh c’mon you can’t tell me it wasn’t a genius idea.”

Rolling your eyes, “I wouldn’t exactly call it genius, but funny? Yes.”

He laughs again, “not everyday I get a compliment from myself,” he says eyeing your costume, “you do make a pretty cute Eddie Munson if I say so myself.” he wasn’t even thinking anything of it, just blurted it right out.

Flirting came easy to him almost as a second nature, he was never nervous around women, usually finding the game of sex not just something he was good at but conquered with ease. But this, here, with you? Was a slippery slope. A different game for him entirely. He was a pawn amongst you and you were the queen, striking down whoever came near, holding all the power.

Your cheeks heat from his compliment, blood rushing through your body and warming your skin, he holds your hand to your chest, stroking your fingers with his thumbs.

A thousand bolts of lightening ignite you, he smells like smoke, ashy and burning, the cheap keg beer on his breath as he smiles softly at you.

“Tooty!” Steve calls from the top step, clinging onto it for dear life, “are you down there?!”

You’re the first one to break away, pulling your hand from his grasp, threading them together at the last minute, finger tips clinging to each other like velcro. The flames between you both extinguished fast, no oxygen left in the room to keep it going.

Getting to the bottom step and turning, you give him one last glance and a small smile, before trotting up the stairs to Steve.

Eddie opens the patio door to find Gareth and Big D blowing smoke into the sky and talking about the best DIO song.

“Shit man, where have you been? Didn’t your game end like 15 minutes ago?”

Eddie thinks of a lie quick, “Taking a piss why you wanna watch?”

“That’s weird,” Big D questions, “cause Gareth just came out of the bathroom unless there’s a magic bathroom you haven’t told us about.”

“What are you guardian of the toilet?” Eddie says slotting a cigarette between his teeth and flicking his zippo open.

“I mean he’s got a point,” Gareth interjects, “where have you been tonight, turning water into wine? Or are you healing the blind?”

“Cool it, Whoopi,” Eddie bites, “the fuck does it matter where I was or wasn’t?”

“You’ve changed dude. Used to be a ladies man, different chick every night. Smoking and drinking all night watching the sunrise. Fuck man you were hell on wheels. Then all of a sudden you move in here and you’re acting like the Pope, fixing up her car off the clock, bringing her to and from work, you’re like her fucking babysitter.” Gareth exclaims.

“Fuck off man, she’s Eyeball’s sister, and I’m just looking out for her.” Eddie grits through his teeth.

“Or,” Big D suggests, “you like her, I mean you still haven’t even told us about the twins— and you stare at her like she’s about to combust at any moment.”

“Yeah and what do you two know about anything?” Eddie spits.

“Clearly not shit, but you’re all fucking riled up about a girl you don’t like.” Gareth flicks his cigarette and goes inside, Big D following.

The door opens again, “listen man, I’m not in the mood for your stupid fucking advice.” Eddie groans, turning to see Steve standing at the door, an empty pitcher in his hand. “Shit, sorry, thought you were Gareth.”

“Nope kept my habit at home,” Steve says with a chuckle, setting the pitcher on the edge of the deck, “nice party, huh?”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, “ya know when Tooty first told me that her and Nancy threw a party every year I didn’t believe it, turns out I was wrong about her, seems to be a theme of mine lately.”

“She doesn’t let a lot of people in, but once you’re here, it means she trusts you, respects you.” Steve explains.

Eddie smiles softly, ashing his cigarette.

“She cares about you, ya know? She might not want to admit it— may even be scared to admit it to herself, but she likes you.”

Eddie gives him a look. Sure you were nicer to him, not threatening to kick him out anymore. You had let the band practice in the garage, even staying out there to hear them play. But that didn’t mean anything did it?

“How many times do you think she’s cut my hair?” Steve inquires, leaning next to the railing on the deck beside Eddie.

“I don’t know,” Eddie says honestly, “a dozen?”

Steve chuckles, “Never, not once, never even offered. You think she made elaborate meals for Nancy when they lived together? Wrong— she barely touched the stove. You move in and she’s changed, for the better. It’s like she’s coming back to life, and the only common thing in that equation, is you.”

Eddie mulls this over, could Steve be right? “I don’t know man.”

“I may not be Mr. Relationship but I do know Tooty, and you’ve softened her edges. Tamed that frightful girl we all love and adore. She’s got walls up, keeping people out, but not around you, not anymore.”

Eddie hangs his head, his heart bursting with sad euphoric bliss. He couldn’t go about this like any other conquest. And with you it would never be how it was with the other women. Faceless broads in mini skirts, praising him, doing whatever he wanted them to. He never saw you in that way. Holding you on a pedestal about the rest. He hadn’t been in a relationship in years. One too many times of being cheated on was enough for him. But you were hurt too, more so than he was. He was still licking his wounds with anything willing and able. You? You were a shell of yourself. He couldn’t act on this like he would with anyone else. He cared about you too damn much to make you feel like you couldn’t trust him again.

“And I know you care about her. Everytime I look at you you’re staring at her like a sad little puppy.”

Eddie looks up then, looking at Steve like he held all the answers to life’s questions. He turns and leans against the deck, elbows on the railing just how Steve was facing the house.

“Yeah, you’re right, I do care about her, more than anything. So what do I do?” He asks Steve.

Steve shrugs, letting out a loud sigh, “keep doing what you’re doing, she knows you care about her, just don’t disappear on her.”

Eddie turns his head from Steve and catches sight of you through the patio doors. He can see you taking a Jell-O shot with El, Robin and Nancy. A sleeping lump of clothes on the kitchen table with black hair must be Mike. You light up the room as you laugh when Robin makes a repulsive expression after taking her Jell-O shot. He can’t hear your full laugh, it’s faint through the glass. But, he doesn’t need to hear it to know the sound—having heard it more and more the last few weeks, the way you throw your head back when something is really funny, sometimes covering your mouth. He’s certain he’s never seen anyone more angelic in his life. Like you have sucked all the air from the room, even dressed in a sheer mockery of him, you’re radiating a glow that makes his heart swell. He has never cared about anyone the way that he does for you.

Seeing him through the doors standing next to Steve, he has a smirk on his face. A sudden rush of shyness creeps up your neck and you turn away from him, but you reciprocate his actions, smiling at him. A small gesture that melts him on the spot.

Eyes trained on you but still talking to Steve, Eddie beams, “I’m not going anywhere.”

A/n: see you in volume vii

Hope you all enjoyed this. There were some little hidden Easter eggs in this chapter, go to my askbox if you found them 💕

readmore eat my ass or this line you decide, whore.

—

#eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie x y/n #stranger things season 4 #stranger things #eddie munson smut

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itgetsdark-x · 1 year

Note

ok but pre-outbreak Joel gets a cute young new neighbour and she’s a camgirl (pretending it’s more modern day and the technology exists lol) but he doesn’t know and one day she asked him for help with fixing something so he actually sees the inside of her house. And then later on, at night he’s trying to find something good 👀 for happy Joel time (bc his cute neighbour in her way too short shorts got him a lil hot and bothered) he comes across her doing a live cam show and he’s like “oh shit.. I know that room. And that ass..) and he realises it’s her and he just has to join in and see what’s going on and it just gets smutty.

And in the end he somehow reveals it’s him in a discreet non creepy way and she’s like yeah i know *wink wink* just really flirty and stuff! There could even be another part eventually where they actually get together and smuuuut!

This idea has been in my head the last few days but I’m not a good writer.. and you’re such a good smut writer 😭😭

A/N: oh my sweet anon, I am so sorry this took so long!! I may or may not have got carried away with this and rolled it all into one piece… so have this monstrous 7.1k word oneshot 🥹

Warnings: 18+, minors dni!! fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (do better!), use of the word daddy, implied age gap (everyone is of legal and consenting age!), probs more I’ve missed. It’s just porn tbh people!

Word Count: 7.1k

Characters: Joel Miller x Cam Girl!Reader (f)

You waved sweetly, blew a kiss to your laptop screen and ended the stream after saying a final goodbye to your viewers. You closed down your laptop and reached behind you, on your bed to grab your T-shirt and shorts. You stood up from your spot on your bed, stretched your back with a groan and threw your baggy T-shirt on over your naked torso and shimmied your tight gym shorts over your bare legs.

You had moved back to Austin a few months ago with your parents, things had ended badly with a previous partner and it meant moving back to the city to be closer to them. Your parents majorly helped you out, hence why you were able to afford the comfy house you lived in, deep in the suburbs.

Your house was next to Joel Miller’s, he was a devoted single father to his daughter, Sarah, who was in her mid-teens. You would sometimes look after Sarah if her sitter ever cancelled last minute and you loved it, it was like having a little sister, she would often come round and ask for advice on clothes, boys and sometimes, homework, when she trusted you enough to know the subject.

You kept a fair distance from her dad, he was a handsome male in his late forties, potentially pushing older and sure, you thought he was super handsome but it wasn’t a line you particularly wanted to cross due to the implications and mess if you did, so you stuck to yourself besides your interactions with Sarah.

To help pay your rent and keep food on your table, you had a part-time job at a local store but the main source of your income came from your online presence. You performed on an adult-only cam site and offered subscriptions for your content. You had somewhat gained traction on the site and it left you living fairly comfortably, especially with your parents help. No one around you in your day-to-day life knew about your online presence and you preferred to keep it that way, it was the twenty-first century and sure your parents may have understood, you just preferred to not talk about it with them.

You walked downstairs, your makeup was still on but you had pulled your hair up away from your face. You had gone to get a snack after a two-hour long show, you had given your midday viewers a special treat as you normally only performed in the evenings / later at night as that’s when the money seemed to roll in easier. You ate a bagel with cream cheese and sighed to yourself as you scrolled through your phone, you clocked the time and noticed you had four hours or so until you had an evening stream booked. You needed a hot bath to clean yourself up after this afternoon’s one and a nap also sounded amazing.

With that in mind, you wandered back upstairs and switched your taps on in your en-suite and awaited the water to warm up. You waited five minutes and the water was still icy cold, you rolled your eyes and pulled your clothes back on.

“Fucks sake.” You huffed angrily and stomped downstairs to pop next door.

Joel was a contractor and all-round handyman, sure he wasn’t a plumber but he would most definitely have a better idea of what was going on and he would most likely be able to fix it. You walked down the driveway of your house to head to Joel’s; the cool summer breeze pricked your skin, goosebumps rose on your arms and legs and your nipples hardened under the white fabric of your T-shirt.

You brought your hand up and knocked on the door once, you looked down at your appearance and suddenly felt self-conscious, you pulled your arms across your chest to cover your nipples and shifted on the spot as you awaited someone to answer the door.

“Oh, hi darlin’.” Joel said, smiling through his confusion as to why you were here and knocking on his door. “Sarah is at a friend’s for the night, she’s been beggin’ me to let her have a sleepover so I gave in. Were you looking for her?” He asked softly.

You tracked his eyes, they started from your flip-flop clad feet and followed the shapely lines of your bare legs before they hungrily raked over your torso and found their way back to your own eyes. You swallowed roughly and pulled your arms tighter around yourself.

“Uh, I was actually looking for you…” you started. “I’ve got somewhere to be in a few hours and I need a bath, my taps aren’t running hot. I was wonderin’ whether you could come over and take a look?” You asked nervously.

“Oh sure! It’ll probably be a simple fix, let me grab my tools from the truck and I’ll be right over.” He smiled and closed his door behind him.

He grabbed his toolkit from the back of the truck and ushered for you to lead the way back to your house. Joel watched as your hips swayed as you walked, the stretchy fabric of your gym shorts clung to your hips, ass and thighs perfectly. They rode up your behind in the most teasing way and Joel mentally cursed himself for imagining what laid underneath the material.

“Hot date tonight then?” Joel asked innocently as you walked him up your stairs.

“Ha. Yeah. Something like that.” You laughed awkwardly, god if only he knew.

You opened your bedroom door to Joel and let him walk into your room. “Yeah, just through that door. I’m useless with this sorta stuff and normally I would call my dad but he’s at work and I noticed your truck in the driveway…” you mumbled and stood in your bedroom awkwardly.

You looked around your room, just scanning the area to ensure you hadn’t left any of your toys out from your stream and you felt your cheeks immediately glow when you noticed your vibrator sitting by your pillow.

Joel was humming as he took your bath panel off to inspect the plumbing work under the ceramic and you took the opportunity to push the vibe just under your pillow. You went over to the bathroom and leant on the door frame; you couldn’t help but admire the older male’s biceps as they flexed as he toyed with the temperature valve under the bath. He fiddled around for fifteen minutes or so until the water ran hot, the water immediately steaming in the air.

You grinned at him as he called out ‘gotcha’. “Joel! You’re a hero, thank you! I owe you a pack of beers, I’ll get them over to you at some point this week, I promise.” You enthused and clapped your hands.

Joel sat up from his position, clicked your bath panel back in place and switched the taps off. He looked at you and dusted his hands off on his jeans, as you clapped he couldn’t help but notice the way your breasts squeezed together under your shirt. He could clearly see that you weren’t wearing any underwear, your nipple’s colour showed through your white T-shirt and he felt his cock twitch in his boxers at the sight.

“Don’t be silly, darlin’. I’m just happy to help out a neighbour in need. Plus you look out for Sarah, I owe you a lot more than sorting out a couple valves under your tub.” He laughed and threw his spanner back into his tool bag.

“I love Sarah! She’s like a little sister to me, I just hope I’m not a bad influence on her!” You giggled and watched as Joel packed up his tools.

“You a bad influence? I doubt that very much, sweetheart.” He smiled softly and you let him pass you back into your room. He looked around your room and admired your decorations. “I like what you’ve done in here, looks real nice. You do this yourself?” He asked and toyed with the material of the canopy that hung above your double bed.

You nodded proudly. “Yeah, well, my dad helped me a little but I always get impatient and end up doing it myself just so it’s done.” You chuckled and he looked around before clapping his hands awkwardly once.

“I should uh, let you have your bath in peace. Unless you need anything else from me?” Joel asked causing your eyebrows to rise in shock. “No! I meant um, sorry darlin’! Didn’t mean to sound so dirty with that suggestion, I mean do you have anything else that needs to looking at around your house?” He corrected himself and you laughed softly at him.

“Oh, of course you didn’t.” You mumbled, an edge of disappointment lacing your voice. “Well, my facets and pipes under the sink, downstairs are a little loose and leaky. If you wouldn’t mind tightening them, I would be really grateful.” You smiled softly and after Joel gave you a nod, you lead him downstairs into your kitchen.

You bent down to move your cleaning supplies out of the way and Joel swore his heart almost stopped, he could clearly see the outline of your ass and your privates as the lycra clung to every one of your curves. You stepped back and let Joel work again.

“Joel, can I please be really rude and excuse myself to go and take that bath? I need to clean up before I’m needed elsewhere. I really appreciate your help with this all and please feel free to let yourself out. I’ll pop by tomorrow with some beers!” You said sweetly.

“No worries at all, I won’t be long at all, sweetheart. Please don’t worry about the beers, it’s my pleasure. Honestly.” Joel spoke from under the sink as you left the kitchen to go back to your en suite.

Joel continued to work on your kitchen sink, it was a short job and he was soon finished. He heard the water stop running upstairs and once again, he scolded himself for letting his filthy thoughts run away from him. He imagined your body slipping into soapy water, the bubbles clinging to your breasts, your perky nipples inviting him to suck them into his mouth and your perfectly round ass glistening with the soapy water. He groaned to himself as he picked up his toolkit to leave, he briefly palmed his half-hard cock in his jeans and he was feeling so thankful that he had the house to himself that evening.

Whilst in the bath, you laid back into the enticing warm water and you let your thoughts run away from you. You imagined how Joel’s calloused fingers would feel buried deep in you, working your pussy closer to orgasming. You imagined how it would feel to be embraced by him before he pushed his dick deep into you until you were crying for him to stop. You physically shook your head and swallowed thickly, that right there, those thoughts, that’s exactly why you tried to keep your distance from the older male. He got under your skin and lit a fire deep in the pits of your belly. Silently, you were appreciative that you were so worked up because you knew it meant you would be giving your viewers a great show tonight.

The time soon came for you to start your live stream; you were wearing a lacy pink bra and matching panties; the bra had crisscross straps across your cleavage and your nipples showed through the sheer material.

“Evening guys,” you purred and gave a wave to your viewers. Whenever you streamed you work a masquerade mask to hide your identity and you always put a voice on; it was similar to your own but a little bit lower and more sultry. “How’s everyone’s day going today? I know I’m super excited to be here tonight.” You whined as your fingers toyed with your hardening nipples.

Your set up was simple, you usually sat on your bed at the beginning of streams before moving into all crude positions for your viewers; their comments and tips egging you to go further.

Comments started to flood in and it didn’t take long for you to lose your bra; you kept your panties and stockings on as the garment you chose for tonight was crotchless which mean you could toy with yourself without losing the sexy underwear.

You were laid back, your back was arched off the bed as you plunged your rabbit vibrator in and out, your thoughts swam with Joel and imagining it was him pleasuring you. Small moans tumbled from your lips as the noise of comments and monetary tips filled the room.

You were getting closer to having an orgasm and you didn’t know how long you could hold off for. Normally, when streaming, you would fake it a lot since it was a lot of effort to have orgasm after orgasm, especially for hours at a time; by now you had perfected the faking of one but not tonight. Your fingers pinched at your nipples and you shuddered on your toy as you worked yourself through it. You removed the toy and brought it up to your bare lips, you sucked it into your mouth and moaned.

“Wow, thank you Sunset331 for the $100 tip. I’ll be sure to send a picture your way after the stream.” You purred.

*Handyman47 Entered the Chat*

“Good evening, Handyman47. I hope you enjoy the show!” You called out and turned so the camera had a perfect view of your exposed ass and vagina. You pushed the toy back into yourself and whimpered at your overstimulation as you got right back into the quick rhythm.

—

Joel was frustrated, sexually and emotionally. He needed to relieve some of the stress that had built up this afternoon. He had always found you tempting and attractive but tried his hardest to ignore you whenever you came round. But there you were today, all perfect and tight, he was blinded by his arousal.

He laid back on his bed, his back pushed up against his pillows as he got his laptop out and started Googling adult-only sites that could help him along the way. He stumbled across a streaming site he hadn’t seen before, it looked decent enough so he quickly made an account and clicked onto one of the first streams he saw the thumbnail for.

The actress looked attractive enough for him to take the edge off and he thought somewhere in the back of his mind, that the body on his screen looked similar to yours but he pushed that sinister thought away and assumed it was because you had frustrated him so much earlier that day.

Then he heard the voice from his laptop, “Good evening, Handyman47. I hope you enjoy the show!” It clicked instantly in his brain, his eyes scanned the background of the room and he swallowed thickly.

Joel couldn’t help the way his cock twitched in his hand, he was already stroking himself and then he happened to stumble across you. He watched on as the toy disappeared into your hungry heat and would come out covered in your arousal, he groaned loudly from the back of his throat as his thumb swiped over his cock head and lubricated his length with his own pre-cum.

He knew he should close his laptop down and go and take a cool shower but he couldn’t tear his eyes off of his laptop screen, he looked out his window and could see yours; your curtains were drawn and there was a charming pink glow coming from behind them. Just like in your stream. He was so close to you, yet you had no idea just what he was doing a mere distance away from you or how crazy you drove him.

—

“Oh yeah, just like that daddy. Please don’t stop. Yeah.” You moaned, you had switched positions again. You were on your back and your sticky privates showed directly to the camera. Your juices were creamy and thick as you continued to push your toy into your hole. “Hmm, I think I should change to something bigger. I need a real man to come here and fill me up.” You purred and sat up to read the comments.

Handyman47: I volunteer, darlin’.

Sunset331: on my way, need u so bad

Jungleboy87: show us that needy pussy again. pls

You giggled as you read the comments, your tits hung in front of the camera as you did so but one caught your eye. Handyman47, surely it was a coincidence, no? Joel was around that age, that was his job and the fact he called you darling. Your throat went dry as you pondered the possibility of it being the older man from across the road.

You pushed that thought aside and grabbed your dildo off your bedside table; it was hot pink and a thick 10” in length, your biggest one to date.

“What do you think, guys? Do you reckon I can make it fit in my little hole?” You purred and ran it through your wet folds.

You pressed the tip of the toy into your hole and whimpered at the immediate stretch, slowly, you plunged it into yourself. The stretch of the toy stung and you closed yours eyes, imagining it was Joel filling you out like that.

Comments of encouragement flooded the chat once again and you smiled devilishly as you pulled the toy out to switch your position. You lifted the prop from the floor, it was a large piece of plastic that you used specifically for streaming, it allowed you to suction your toy to it and it meant you could ride it with ease.

“Oh fuck, daddy. You’re so big. Dunno if I can take it all like this.” You whimpered, straddling the toy and slowly pushing yourself down onto it.

You rode your toy, the pleasure already building up in your body and you clenched around it weakly as your thighs burned with the effort.

Joel watched on, his eyes fixated on his screen; he saw the way your tight pussy stretched around the toy and he pumped his cock enthusiastically with each rise and fall of your body. His tip was leaking pre-cum and he knew it wouldn’t be long until he was cumming into his palm over the sight of you fucking yourself.

“Gonna squirt all over your cock.” You shuddered and you meant it, it was how you ended your shows normally; one final blow out for the fans.

Your hand fumbled beside you as it reached for your bullet vibrator. You brought it to your clit and almost immediately you felt your orgasm come crashing through you, your hips faltered as your ground down onto the toy below you. You rose as your felt yourself gush around it, your juices splashed onto the toy and you couldn’t help the way your eyes screwed shut and a loud, shaky moan fell from your lips.

“Fuck, Joel.” You whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper.

He heard it. That was his name. Surely not. Joel watched as you continued to squirt, his cock throbbed and with one final pass of his hand, he came hard. Your name fell from his lips with a groan, he kept hearing the way you whimpered his name as you came on your toy over and over in his head and it made his spent dick jump as he milked himself of every last drop.

You shuddered as you removed the toy fully from yourself and discarded your bullet to the side of you after turning it off.

“Wow guys, I’ve made a massive mess here.” You giggled and slapped your sopping wet core once, the wetness apparent as your fingers tapped lightly.

Comments of appreciation were flooding through your chat and you grinned as you read each one.

“Thank you sooo much for tuning in guys, I won’t be streaming tomorrow but I’ll be back the day after. Thank you all so much for the support. I love you.” You cooed sweetly and blew a kiss to the camera before shutting the stream down to clean up after yourself.

—

You had slept soundly after last night’s stream; it was a busy one. All morning, whilst trying to do some admin work, all you could think of was that one username that stuck out to you… Handyman47. You were sure it just had to be a sick coincidence, your thoughts were clouded by lust in the moment and of course it wasn’t Joel. Why would he watch your stream? He didn’t find you attractive, that would just be ridiculous. That’s what you told yourself, anyway.

You finished up your work for the morning and decided to pop out to the store, to buy the beer you had promised Joel. It was a warm day so you dressed yourself in a sunflower-yellow sundress and flip flops, your hair was tied up messily.

Once you arrived home from the store, you parked your car up and made your way over to Joel’s house to give him the cool beers. It was a small gesture to say thank-you for the help, even if he insisted that he didn’t want them, it was the polite thing to do and you were raised with manners.

You raised your arm and placed a quick knock to the door, you were half-expecting to see Sarah’s gorgeous locks but instead you were met with Joel.

“No Sarah again?” You asked.

“She uh, she wanted to stay another night at her friend’s and well, you know how the kid is, how could I say no?! You disappointed to see me again, darlin’?” Joel joked with a smirk, although, oddly, he barely made eye contact with you.

You shrugged. “Eh, not quite my girl but you’ll do.” You joked and held the beers out for Joel. “Plus, she can’t exactly drink these. Not for a couple years anyway.” You winked.

“Or ever.” Joel replied dryly, catching your eyes this time. He took the pack of beers from you with a smile. “I’m tellin’ ya, you didn’t need to do this for me! It was a small favour. How ‘bout you come on in, we can crack open a beer together?” Joel asked, opening his door wider for you to step in.

“Oh I wouldn’t wanna impose, I bought them for you to enjoy. Don’t feel like you have to share!” You smiled.

Joel shook his head and gently took your wrist, to pull you inside. “Nonsense. You look like you’ve had a busy mornin’ and could do with a beer. Go ahead and make yourself comfy in the lounge, I’ll put these in the fridge and grab a couple.”

You obliged albeit reluctantly, you didn’t mind spending time with Joel but he drove you mad; just being in a close proximity to him like this drove you insane, you couldn’t act on what you wanted and it was torture. You sat down on the couch, crossed your legs and smoothed your dress down, the hem rested comfortably on your upper thigh, just teasing with a glimpse of your forbidden skin.

Joel entered the room and gave you a bottle of beer, you shot him a small thank you before taking a sip. He sat opposite you in his arm chair and let his legs sprawl out widely; he was wearing shorts and a tight-fitting t-shirt, the material hugging his biceps deliciously.

“How was your hot date last night?” Joel enquired innocently, pretending he didn’t know what you had been up to. “I’m sure I could hear you screamin’ from here.” He teased.

You laughed dryly and shot him a deathly glare which only made him chuckle. “Wasn’t a hot date, I was actually um, I was working.” You mumbled and stared into the neck of your bottle before drinking some more.

“That time of night? I thought you worked at that fancy little store in the city?” Joel asked, probing you further. He was treading on thin ice, either you were going to open up about what you were doing or you were going to lie through your teeth. He noticed the way you switched your legs over and shifted awkwardly in your seat.

“I uh — I have an extra job.” You shrugged, keeping your cards close to your chest. Joel had never really spent this much alone time with you, especially not to ask you this many questions. “How’s work going for you, a lot of jobs on at the moment?” You asked just trying to deflect the attention away from your work.

“Nope, you’ve got me intrigued, darlin’. What were you doing? What’s this extra job?”

You cringed, you placed your bottle on the table and hid your face behind your palms. “I — I model and perform on an adult-only site; I do live shows of porn, basically.” You admitted, your cheeks were glowing under your hands.

Joel watched as you hid your face, he bit back a smirk and watched as your embarrassment poured from you; it was wrong to admit, but it turned him on, to see you all embarrassed and flustered.

“Oh yeah, I know the ones.” Joel said casually, taking another drink with a shrug.

You peered through your fingers and your mind shot back to the username. Surely it wasn’t him. No.

“You, Joel Miller, are telling me you’re one of those creeps on the site?” You asked, raising an eyebrow up at him.

“Wouldn’t say I was a creep.” He stated bluntly. “I have needs darlin’, especially when my neighbour drives me mad all afternoon dressed in tight shorts or a sexy little dress.” His eyebrow was cocked upwards, testing the water to see exactly how you would react.

You put your hands on your lap, your mouth fell agape and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat again.

“Oh. I. Um. You?” You mumbled incoherently, your brain not working quickly enough to form an intelligible sentence which caused Joel to laugh. “You — you see anything on those sites of interest?” You asked quietly, your hands smoothing the fabric of your dress more out of nerves than to adjust the garment.

“Saw a nice little show last night…” Joel said quietly, he stood from his seat; you could see the vague outline of his thickening cock in his shorts and your privates throbbed. “Thought I recognised the room…” he said, sitting down next to you. “But then I thought, no, it couldn’t be that good little girl that lives next to me. Not with the way she was performing, doing such a good job at taking in her toys.”

Joel was closing the space next to you, you could feel the weight of his body next to you and his fingers tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear. It was a tender movement and it made you shiver physically under his touch. You avoided making eye contact with him, you were sure this was just a joke and he was teasing you for your extracurricular job.

“Look at me.” Joel demanded, his lips were by your ear now, they just ghosted over the area and you shook your head. “Look. At. Me.” Joel said more sternly and his voice was dropped impossibly low.

His hand held your bare knee, his fingers teasing to travel just under your dress and you finally bared to look at him. Your eyes were wide in shock, your chest heaved slightly with your more laboured breaths and small beads of sweat collected on your neck.

“It was you…” you whispered to which Joel just smirked. “Son of a bitch. You’re a dirty old man, Mr Miller.” You teased, still feeling nervous under his watchful gaze and touch.

“Is that why you whimpered out my name as you squirted on your toy? Cause I’m a dirty old man?” Joel asked, his voice dripping with sheer confidence.

“I — no I didn’t.” You huffed.

Joel squeezed the delicate skin of your thigh and you made a pathetic noise from the back of your throat before you tried to swallow it back.

“I heard it.” Joel said smugly. “God, made me cum so hard on myself to hear you calling out my name.” He groaned, thinking back to his activities from last night.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call out your name, I didn’t think anyone heard me. Please don’t tell anyone about my extra job.” You whined as Joel’s hand slid up under your dress slightly, his fingers brushed past your clothed heat and your eyes dipped shut for a second.

“How about I show you how good I feel compared to those pieces of plastic.” Joel whispered.

“Please.” You breathed and bucked your hips upwards, searching for the feel of Joel’s fingers.

Joel silently got off the sofa, you wanted to whine and bring him back so you could feel his large frame next to you again. Before you could react, the older male was sinking to his knees in front of you and was holding your thighs firmly.

“Wanted to taste you from the day you moved in next door.” Joel stated and your cheeks flushed at his admission.

He pushed the fabric of your dress up, you took the hint and was quick to discard it to the side of you. Your breasts were freed from the fabric and Joel groaned deeply as he drank in your naked form. He held your thighs again and he pulled you forward so your panties were closer to his face which caused you to yelp.

“Look at you. Fuck.” Joel cursed as he let one of his fingers trail across the wet fabric of your panties. “You wet already for me? Thought you woulda got it outta your system last night.” Joel teased with a knowing smirk as your shuddered against his gentle touch.

“Are you gonna chat up my vagina all afternoon or are you gonna show me how much better you are than my toys?” You snapped with a bratty smile.

“I won’t give you anything if you talk to me like that. Now be a good girl and shut up for me, yeah?” Joel bit back, his voice full of condescension which admittedly, only fuelled your arousal further.

You rolled your eyes and just as you opened your mouth to argue back with the man, he pulled your panties to the side and let one of his fingers sink into your heat roughly. You threw your head back and your fingers gripped at the fabric of Joel’s t-shirt, the sudden action throwing you off.

Joel twisted his digit to curl it inside of you before he removed it again, causing you to whine angrily at him. You lifted your head to grumble but instead you were silenced as you locked eyes with him; he brought his wet finger to his lips and sucked it in with a soft moan. Your lips parted in silent shock as Joel sucked your arousal into his mouth, moaning like it was the finest food he had ever eaten.

“Taste so sweet, princess. Best thing I’ve ever tasted.” He groaned, finally removing your panties from your privates. As you lifted your hips to allow the man more access, he noticed how evident your arousal was, you were near dripping onto his sofa and his mouth watered. “I’m going to eat you out now and I won’t stop until you squirt right into my mouth, so how about you be a good girl and do that for me.” Joel said sternly.

You nodded dumbly; no man had ever spoken to you this way before, at least, no man you truly wanted. Without another word, Joel dipped his head down and licked a fat stripe up through your folds. You moaned softly, the noise was delicate and sincere, a complete contrast to how you sounded coming from his laptop screen last night. Your body shuddered against the sofa and your fingers had weaved their way into Joel’s salt and pepper hair; his soft locks entangled with your digits. You gently tugged at his hair causing the male to make a gruff noise into your folds, the vibrations rippled through you and you moaned again.

Joel sucked your clit into his mouth, the sensitive bud was already throbbing with the male’s previous efforts and as soon as his lips suctioned around it your back was arching off his sofa. The old couch creaked under your body as your contorted your back when Joel’s tongue flicked over your clit.

“Fuck me!” You cursed, one of your hands leaving Joel’s head to pathetically grip at the edge of the sofa for further stability.

“Later,” Joel mumbled into your wet pussy.

You let out a breathy chuckle; your head was swimming, your thighs were shaking with the pleasure as Joel continued to work his tongue expertly over your clit and occasionally to dip down into your hole. You felt your orgasm start to bubble lowly in the depths of your belly, just a gentle simmer as Joel licked at you like a man who had been starved.

As if he read your mind of wanting more, Joel brought two fingers up to your hole; he barely dipped them into you and you whimpered weakly. He pushed one finger in, just barely up to his knuckle before he withdrew it and licked over your clit again, the tip of his tongue flicking at it gently.

“Please.” You pleaded with a weak and shaking voice.

Joel looked up at you; his dark pupils were blown with lust and he smirked as he let both fingers push into you, again, barely going past his first knuckles. He twisted his fingers in you and pushed them in fully until the palm of his hand met your body. You let out a loud gasp as your eyes fluttered shut and like a perfectly-timed dance, Joel flicked his tongue across your clit once again.

“Fucking Christ, shit.” You cursed, your voice loud and sharp as Joel worked his fingers rhythmically into you.

Joel laughed softly against you as he plunged his fingers into you again and again. He wrapped his lips around your clit again and suckled at the bud softly as his fingers worked into you quickly. Your orgasm came crashing down, you barely had time to register it as Joel worked his fingers quicker, he curled them upwards and they bumped the spongy spot inside of you that had screams tumbling from your lips.

“G-gonna,” is all you managed to get out, the room was filled with your moans and the obscene wet noise of your arousal as Joel fingered you with fervour.

“That’s it,” Joel cooed. “Good girl, cum for me. Soak me, need it.” He moaned as he pulled his mouth off of your clit but kept his face near and he replaced it with his thumb.

The different sensation threw you off momentarily but it was too late and your orgasm ripped through your body, it drew a long moan from your throat; the noise was animalistic and raw and it echoed through the room. Joel removed his fingers and with that, you let go and whimpered as you gushed onto Joel’s face, he lapped up your juices and you shuddered through your orgasm. Joel watched as your pussy clenched and fluttered around air, the aftershocks of your orgasm evident as you writhed in your spot.

“Look at you.” He sighed happily, watching you still. “Even better than on the screen, so perfect, so beautiful.”

You blushed as his words and you weakly let go of his hair your legs were still quaking as he let go of them, you slumped against his sofa; completely unashamed of your naked state compared to Joel’s fully dressed one. He stood and the outline of his hard cock was evident in his light shorts, there was a darkened wet patch and your mouth watered at the thought he got that turned on by pleasuring you.

“Come here and taste yourself on me.” Joel breathed, taking your cheek to pull you in for a bruising kiss.

You held onto Joel’s arms as he kissed you, his tongue trailed over your bottom lip and greedily you sucked it into your mouth, urging him to explore every crevice of your mouth. You made a small noise of appreciation as your mouth was flooded with the taste of Joel mixed with the tang of your own arousal.

“Fuck me already. Please.” You breathed against Joel’s face, momentarily breaking the kiss.

“How do you wanna take me, darlin’?” He asked.

“However you wanna give it to me.” You retorted with a smirk.

“Get on your knees on the couch, stick your ass up for me and show me that pretty little cunt.” He growled lowly and you obliged happily, doing as he said.

You positioned yourself so your chest was pressed to the back of the sofa and you allowed Joel full access to yourself. You wiggled your ass as you heard Joel toss his shorts to the side haphazardly.

“All for me now, huh?” Joel asked, his hands mauled at the skin of your ass and spread your cheeks, he took his length and pressed the tip into your hole, before you knew it, it was gone again and he slapped it gently at your oversensitive clit. “Tell me how bad you want it.” He hissed, running his cock through your wet folds, nudging your clit with each pass.

“Please, Joel. I want it so bad, never needed a cock so bad in my life, you already made me feel better than any of my toys or the boys I’ve fucked before put together. Please give me your cock, wanna feel your cum fill me up so bad. P-please.” You whined, your voice coming out as small, wrecked sobs as Joel continued to rub his cock over you.

“Good girl.” He praised and without warning be bottomed out inside of you, you moaned loudly; a perfect blend of pleasure and pain rippled through your veins as Joel brushed some hair from your face so he could evaluate your emotions.

He rubbed your ass with his palm and landed a bruising slap to it, you moaned and threw your head back in pleasure. Joel took that opportunity to pull his hips back, to pull out of you fully; he passed his cock through your soaked pussy lips once again. Your mouth opened to complain but before a single noise could leave your mouth, he was pushing back into your greedy heat without warning.

“So. Fucking. Tight.” Joel groaned, accentuating each of his words with a hard thrust of his cock.

He built up a harsh pace, your fingers turned white as they gripped at the fabric of the sofa below you. You were sure if you held on any tighter then the fabric would surely rip under you. Your body prickled as if a hundred needles were touching your skin, your stomach knotted as you felt another orgasm working it’s way through you. Your walls fluttered around Joel and your legs wobbled as you tried to stay grounded as his thick cock nudged that sweet spot inside of you.

“G-gonna, gonna…” You whimpered, your eyes screwing shut.

“Mmhm, that’s it. Atta girl, cum on my cock. Tell me how good it feels, princess.” Joel whispered, leaning forward so his body was pressed to yours.

“Fuck!” You cursed, teetering on the edge of your orgasm. “Feels so good, n-never felt this good before. Making me feel drunk on your cock, gonna need it again and again and again. Please give it to me. Please. So good.” You rambled, words falling from your lips carelessly as Joel fucked you into your orgasm.

His thick but nimble digits wound their way around you to fall to your clit, he circled the bud perfectly and it had your head swimming. It was the thing you needed to push you over the edge; you felt as if you had fallen from a cliff, just floating in midair as Joel worked you through it. Moans of profanity and his name fell from your parted lips as you came around the man’s cock, your walls clenched him and held him tightly.

Seemingly, that was what sent Joel over the edge, his hips faltered and he thrust into you once more, much weaker this time. His cock twitched in your walls and with a groan, and his hands squeezing your hips roughly, he came deep inside of you. You whimpered as your body went limp; Joel’s hot cum filled you and it made you clench weakly around him, your greedy hole trying to suck him in deeper still.

“Fuck me.” You whispered, your ass still on display for the older man as he pulled out of you with a wince.

“Just did that, darlin’.” He laughed breathlessly, trying to gain composure once again.

You rolled your eyes, was typical Joel to state that when clearly it was a rhetorical state meant as a throwaway.

“I should um, well I should pop to the bathroom to quickly clean up and then get out of your hair.” You said, somewhat awkwardly as you stood shakily from the sofa and held your thighs together tightly.

Less than a minute ago, the man’s cock had been inside of you and now that the thick tension and lust had cleared the air you couldn’t help but feel a little bit awkward about it.

“Stay?” Joel asked. “I mean, I wasn’t really done with you yet.” He grinned boyishly and you couldn’t help but smile at him. “Just an idea, darlin’ but how about we go shower and clean up and order some food. We still got more beers to get through. Then, I’m sure if you’re a really good girl, I could give you my cock again.” His hand was stroking up and down your arm, his fingers tickled your skin and in their wake they left goosebumps.

You looked up at Joel, into his deep brown eyes and you nodded with a grin.

“Deal. But you’re paying for the food, you ol’ perv.” You teased with a giggle.

“Get upstairs.” Joel said with a roll of his eyes.

You laughed to yourself again as you walked away, to go upstairs only to yelp loudly when Joel came up behind you and placed a light tap to your ass and rushed in front of you.

“You’re dead, Miller.” You called and chased up behind him to return the favour.

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal

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