#Boston (Musical Group)

[middlepartmatt]

Passing Time

“have you all on top of me, acting like it's not that deep. boy, you can take it out on me” — YOU RIGHT, doja cat ft. the weeknd

SUMMARY: you and the triplets are driving around boston in the middle night, as you often do. matt and nick suddenly decide that they want snacks, leaving you all alone in the minivan with chris while you both wait for his brothers to return.

WARNINGS: smut, fingering, riding, car sex !!!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: who doesn't love a bit of asshole!chris? also thank you for almost 200 followers already that's insaaaaane :)

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"I'm kinda hungry guys," Nick says suddenly. You'd all been singing along to Dominic Fike just a moment before, when he'd suddenly decided to announce his hunger. You turn to look at him from your spot in the backseat next to him, nodding your head in agreement. The four of you have been driving around Matt's car for what feels like hours now and you could use a snack.

"Should we go to CVS or something?" Matt asks, and Nick nods enthusiastically. He swerves the car around, so that you're driving back in the direction of the closest CVS.

It only takes a few minutes for you all to get there. The parking lot is empty save for two other cars, and Matt pulls into a spot right in the back corner.

"Why'd you park so fucking far away?" Nick complains, and Matt rolls his eyes.

"Just come help me get snacks, moron," he replies. Nick huffs in frustration but agrees, opening the back door. Just as he's jumping out of the minivan, he turns back to look at you.

"You coming?" he asks, but you shake your head. You want snacks, but you're feeling kind of lazy, since it's so late at night. You'll just pay the triplets back tomorrow or something.

Nick closes the car door and you watch as the two brothers walk off towards the store, before sighing and leaning back in your seat. You look at Chris in the passenger seat, sitting there stone-faced with his arms crossed.

It's no surprise that neither of his brothers even bothered to ask him if he wanted to go with them into CVS. He's been in a terrible mood all night, having barely said a word despite usually always loving your late night drives. Most of his favorite songs have been played but he's not been singing along, and you have no idea why.

"Do you wanna put the music back on?" you ask quietly, just to break the awkward silence forming between you two. Chris turns around in his seat to look at you, with probably the most bored and annoyed expression on his face that you've ever seen.

"Eh, if you want," he shrugs unenthusiastically, turning back around to fiddle with the Spotify. Dominic Fike's calm voice resumes flowing quietly through the speakers, but you can barely focus on the music since you're now so preoccupied as to what's gotten Chris in such a shitty mood tonight.

You swallow nervously. There's a strange atmosphere in the car now, one that you've never experienced with Chris before. All your life, you've been best friends with the triplets, the four of you closer than ever. You're not sure why Chris has been distant tonight, and also in the past couple of weeks.

Now that you think about it, he has been bailing on you guys meeting up pretty frequently. He'd always be down to hang out with you, whether it was in a big group or just the two of you alone.

His change over the past few weeks has piqued your curiosity, and you can't resist asking: "Chris, are we okay?"

His eyebrows and he turns around in his seat to face you. Chris shrugs, turning back. You roll your eyes, annoyed at his unwillingness to respond to your question. Sick of him ignoring you, you clamber from the back into the driver's seat, forcing him to look at you.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he asks, furrowing his eyebrows. You give him a knowing look, folding your arms across your chest.

"Trying to get you to answer me," you shrug. "So... what's going on?"

"Nothing," he quickly retorts, unable to make eye contact. You continue looking at his face, before sighing loudly and averting your gaze.

After a moment of silence, Chris huffs in frustration, which catches your attention. You turn to look at him and find him already looking at you. His expression is stern but you can detect a bit of... sadness in his eyes?

"It's just... annoying," he says vaguely. You tilt your head to the side in confusion, urging him to continue. His Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows nervously. "Being with you all the time," he continues. "It pisses me off."

"What?" you exclaim, taking immediate offense to his words. "You don't like hanging out with me?" you ask thereafter.

"Nonono, of course I do," Chris says quickly, now realizing his mistake. "I just- it's... not in the way that I want."

"Huh?" you say, dumbfounded. You have no clue what he's trying to say.

"Don't you get it?" Chris asks, a smirk now forming on his lips at your innocence. He looks down at his lap and you follow his gaze, eyes widening as your line of sight aligns with his crotch, a clear tent shape formed in his sweats.

"Oh, u-um..." you stammer, unsure what else to say. You feel your heart racing, honestly unable to fathom what you're looking at. Chris is hard... because of you? It doesn't make any sense.

You don't have time to contemplate this any more, because his hand snakes over and rests on your upper thigh. Your eyes widen further and his face suddenly turns apprehensive as he loosens his grip.

"Is this okay?" he asks quietly. You nod rapidly, feeling heat pooling in your core. Chris' smirk only grows as he cocks his head to the side. "Alright, you gonna help me out with this?" he asks you, referring to his obvious hard on. Despite yourself, you grin, and climb onto his lap so that you're straddling him, your chest flushed against his.

His hips immediately buck upwards into your heat, causing a quiet gasp to escape your lips. He practically groans at the sensation, before grinning and leaning forward to kiss you.

It isn't a kiss that tells you he wants you. No, it's a kiss that tells you he needs you, and that he's probably needed this for a while now. You open your mouth and swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, before his brushes lightly over yours. The kiss quickly turns more passionate, both you desperate for more.

You feel Chris' hands slide down your back and pull you closer to him. His cock throbs against you, and you rock your hips back and forth for more friction. He moans into your mouth, before sliding his fingers down your legs and between your legs.

He doesn't waste any time and pushes two fingers inside of you. You moan against his mouth as he pushes them deeper, breaking the kiss and moving his tongue down your neck. His teeth scrape lightly on your skin before he gently bites down. At this, you cry out, unable to help yourself.

"Fuck, Chris," you say, and he smiles against your skin at the sound of his name.

Chris then pulls his mouth from your neck to your breast, taking it into his mouth and sucking gently. You arch your back, needily rocking your pussy harder against his fingers, which are still working inside of you.

"Shit, ma," he hisses, clearly unable to wait any longer as he pulls his fingers from you and licks them clean. "Need to be inside of you," he pants, more to himself than to you.

He sits up a little straighter, creating even more friction between the two of you that has you dripping, before shuffling down his sweats and boxers a little. His cock springs free, the tip a needy red and already leaking precome.

Using your knees, you push yourself upwards slightly so that he has the space to place the head of his cock against your wet opening. You hold your breath as you lower yourself down onto him, his dick stretching you out as he fills you completely.

"Chris, you're so big," you moan as you start rocking your hips back and forth.

"You can take it," he responds casually, grabbing your ass and squeezing tightly. You lean in to kiss him once again, tasting the remnants of your juices on his lips from where he sucked it off of his fingers. Putting your hands flat on his chest, you ride him harder.

Just as you feel his cock start to twitch inside of you, Chris mumbles a quiet, "I'm so close, baby." You nod in agreement, feeling the tight knot in your stomach slowly beginning to unravel.

Chris is beginning to lose all control now, his thrusts into your becoming harder and more desperate. You don't mind though, the way he's pounding into you harder and harder sending you closer and closer over the edge.

"C-Chris, I'm gonna-" you whimper as you feel your orgasm beginning to unwind, not even able to finish your sentence due to the immense of amount of pleasure.

"Do it," he tells you. "Come for me, ma."

You do, your whole body shaking as you moan loudly. He continues to thrust into you, rubbing further on your clit. Chris then lets out a load groan, his cock twitching more inside you. He quickly pulls out, jerking himself a couple of times before he finishes, cumming all over your shirt.

"Chris!" you exclaim, looking down at the mess he's made.

"Shit," he chuckles, shaking his head. "My bad, baby."

The nickname makes your heart flutter, and you remain seated on Chris' lap while he reaches past you, opening the glovebox and pulling out a packet of tissues. He gives one to you to clean yourself up before wiping the cum from his dick and scrunching up the tissue, shoving it into the pocket of his sweats. He also attempts to rub some of his seed from your shirt, but when he realizes there's no use he pulls off his hoodie and hands it to you.

"Wear this," he tells you, and you give him a thankful smile as you pull it over your head.

"Thanks," you mumble quietly, pulling yourself off of him and pulling your pants back up.

"Looks so pretty on you," Chris mutters, eyes fully fixated on you. "We're doing this again, by the way."

You nod in agreement, about to say something else when Chris' eyes suddenly widen in shock as he looks just past you. "Fuck!" he says. "They're coming back. Quick, get back in your seat!"

You do as he says, clambering from the driver's seat back to where you were originally sitting. You fall back into the seat with a sigh, exhausted from fucking Chris not even five minutes before.

You both sit in silence for the short time it takes Matt and Nick to get back. They climb back into the car, Nick holding a large bag of snacks in one hand.

"The line was so fucking long, sorry guys," Matt apologizes as Nick begins emptying the bag. He grins at the packet of mini gummy worms he presumably bought for himself.

"All good," you answer. "Chris and I just listened to music while you were gone."

"He stopped being such a miserable cunt, then?" Nick questions, a tad skeptically. You chuckle and Chris just rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever," he mumbles, his eyes locked with yours.

You can't wait for the next time you see him.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE PT. 2: can you tell i like the word baby lol. also i feel like i never have any dialogue in my smut LMFAOOOO i get too carried away w them fucking byeeee

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo #chrissturn #chris #mattsturniolo #sturniolo smut #chrissturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nicksturniolo #nick sturniolo

[moncherellie]

the red line (+ ai audios)

a/n: this one is inspired by the song cherry by rina sawayama. that drives me wack every time i hear it. rina u are a genius. requests still open :) i hope this is reminiscent of a first love/first girl crush. i sure projected here LMAO

-content/warnings: 4k words, kinda loser! ellie x loser! reader (pining pining pining), fem reader, lots of awkward flirting, reader has slight anxiety/overthinks, reader's first gay relationship, fleeting mentions of drug use/creepy dudes/homophobia

Moving from your small Midwestern town to the East Coast was a whirlwind of culture shock and nerves. The people in your town were tooth-achingly sweet, while East Coast people were straightforward enough to induce whiplash. The air seemed smog-clogged compared to the untouched crispness of a rural day, occasionally choking when you open your window in the morning and making the mistake of inhaling too deeply. But while the honeyed grass fields and clear cerulean skies of Wisconsin would always hold a fond place in your heart, its fresh air couldn’t compare to the refreshing feeling of a big city. Sure, people in your hometown were nice, but there was always an underlying threat of conformity- the asphyxiation of green grass lawns, American flags, and fishing trips was finally released when you entered Boston, your new home. 

You’d only been here a few days, moving into your apartment and getting to know the neighborhood, so there’d been no time to explore the broader city. At least, that was the excuse you’d use. A couple friends had called and urged you to take photos for them, saying that they were trapped at home and you were the only one who’d escaped the town. You’d type a short lol come with, but you needed to settle at your own pace. This was why, on the fifth day, you’d decided to traverse across the entire city to find a music store called “The Boston Beat” that caught your eye on Yelp. 4.3 stars, a fair selection of mainstream records and indie music, and a pride flag in the window, which was a welcome change of pace. You had a day plan.

You’d marched up to the light rail station, bought a card, and charged it with a day pass, unready to commit to the investment of a monthly pass. While not experienced with subway prices, 90 bucks seemed insane. You’d see if it was a worthy investment depending on the experience you’d have today. 

It was a hot August day- waves of heat warped your vision when radiating off the dark cement, metal fixtures stinging your hands when touched. The inside of the station was no better, muggy and dank. You found a strange comfort in it, the city becoming more human by the minute. You were surprised at how intuitive the subway had been so far, and you were gaining confidence with every step. Maybe you are cut out for this city shit. You step up to the entrance. Moment of truth. You swipe and arrogantly attempt to walk through, only to run into the locked turnstile. You had never been so immediately humbled. Well, fuck.

Swipe again. The card reader’s red light doesn’t falter. Swipe again. Still nothing. Swipe, swipe, swipe. The hell? You wiggle the turnstile, face heating as people start to group behind you. Fuckfuckfuckfuck- 

“Fucking… go… swipe through, shitass card.” You mutter, already emotionally drained from the eyes on you. Someone side-eyes you as they enter the stall next to you with ease, and you give them an apologetic, wide-eyed smile. I’m never leaving the house again, you think. You move to shove at the turnstile again, assuming that if you did nothing differently, the result would change. And you were… right?

“Fuck yeah! I’m so good.” You congratulate yourself for figuring it out, and you hear a low chuckle behind you. A tattooed arm holds a scraped and folded, worn-to-hell Charlie card. The slim fingers holding it are calloused but well-manicured, nimbly swiping the card again to let themselves through. You look up to see who pitied you enough to grant you entrance, and you’re surprised to see a pretty girl with auburn hair pulled up in a half-up-half-down do. Little pieces stick out of the sides, ends curling up and down wildly, short choppy hair framing her slender neck. Her face is wholly amused, lips curving into a small smirk and freckles shifting across her nose she smiles at you. She’s already incredibly attractive, but her eyes- God. Green and intense, reminding you of the duckweed coating the ponds at home. Like a Pollock of greens, browns, and flecks of yellow, her eyes meet yours as she holds up her card in two fingers, waving it in front of her face. She has a well-loved hair tie on her wrist. 

“Go through before it locks.” She chides. Your cheeks heat and you nervously laugh before pushing through. Beads of sweat stick to your face and neck, but you’re not sure if it’s from the summer heat or the embarrassment. The girl meets you on the other side and you fidget with the front edge of your tank top.

“Uhm, thanks for that. Was beginning to think I’d entered purgatory with all those people behind me.” You awkwardly joke, rifling through your bag. “I have cash, I can pay you for that-”

“Y’ don’t need to, it’s like two bucks. I’m a starving college student but I’m not that strapped for cash.” She glances at your jittering body, looking you directly into your eyes for the second time. Does she want to give you a heart attack? “You new or something? You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

You groan in response. “It’s that obvious?” The pretty stranger laughs.

“Not really. Maybe I’m more observant than most. Don’t sweat it, newbie, these stations are fucked up. It probably wasn’t your fault.”

“You sure?”

“Ah, you’re right- on second thought, maybe the MTA just hates you specifically.” She jokes, and you laugh. You’re straggling near the entrance, swaying around as you make small talk with her. 

“I wouldn’t put it past them, I’m shit with directions. They probably want to keep me off the trains at all costs.” You joke right back at her, and she chuckles again. Her laugh is pretty. Her smile is pretty. It’s a little cocky, but somehow in a chill way. Anyway, you figure it suits her. 

“Well, if you’re that bad, tell me where you’re going. Maybe I can help.” She offers. You tell her about The Boston Beat on the other side of the city, and her eyes twinkle. “Yo, no kidding. I work there. I’m off today, but I totally know where that is. It’s along the red line, here.” She leads you over to a scratched mess of a sign and points to where you can faintly make out a red path. “We’re here, you wanna get-” she stretches her arm out, “here.” She tells you which stop to get off at.

You thank her profusely and say goodbye. You head left towards the rail she told you to take, and to your mortification, she goes the same direction. Saying bye when she’s going the same way, stupid. You walk a little faster when you notice this, attempting to awkwardly force more space between the two of you. It’s fine, it’s fine. I’m just being silly- she doesn’t care! She’s not thinking about it! I’m just overthinking it.

Ellie, strolling behind you, actually is thinking about it. She watches as you speed-walk away, juxtaposing the way she casually strolls to lean against a support beam. Something about how you fidget and stutter was weirdly charming. Huh. She keeps staring.

You can tell someone’s watching you, but you assume that, as usual, it’s a gross old man. Your eyes come up, scanning the platform suspiciously for whichever creep you’ll have to tell off, but you make eye contact, again, with the pretty girl from earlier. Why was there so much eye contact? It was so nerve-wracking, but also… so exhilarating. The moment your eyes meet hers, she smiles, eyes crinkling. You immediately avert your gaze, breath catching.

A beat passes. You take your phone out and scroll the home screen for a minute. Open the compass app. Open the stocks app. Wow, how interesting. She’s probably not looking now, right? You sneak a glance, and she’s still looking. You don’t know if she stares out of disdain or curiosity. Thankfully, the speakers tell you to step away from the edge of the platform, alerting you of the oncoming vehicle. My saving grace, you think. You bounce on your heels as the subway train pulls up, and you take one last look at the girl. She’s looking away. Strands of brown hair move in the train’s wind, falling out of her bun, her side profile looking perfect in a somehow rugged way. Her oversized army green jacket folds and bends as she tucks her hair back and pulls her headphones on to block out the world. You find yourself wondering what she’s listening to. Maybe dad rock or riotgrrl.

You step into the car in front of you, feeling a strange ache deep within you that you can’t quite explain. Oh well. 

By the end of the day, the pretty girl from the subway station is out of your mind. You’ll never see her again, so there’s no point in mulling over it. You enjoyed your day of exploration, and Boston has left a very favorable impression so far. Today felt like self-care. Maybe you’ll do this next week, too.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

You’re working 2 part-time jobs to make ends meet. The first is a morning shift at a millennial coffee shop with eggshell walls, exposed brick, wood accents, and Hobby Lobby cursive signs saying “Don’t talk to me til’ I’ve had my espresso”. It pays decently, mostly because it’s busy as hell, but you’re getting tired of making a “grande”. You don’t have grandes, you’re not Starbucks. The second job is at a tour service. You’re always bored and you hate being surrounded by American history merch, but at least you’re in A/C. The coffee shop is just a block from your apartment, so it’s not much of a walk. The tour is 4 stops away on the subway.

Months go by. It’s October. Every Sunday, Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday, you take the red line to your second job. And every Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday, you see her. The handsome girl with the generous subway card. 

Sometimes, you’re in the same car. You’ll glance up from your phone every so often, eyes raking over her. Everything about her tells a story. She always has a Jansport backpack and dirty black Converse. She dresses pretty masculine. Every Thursday, she carries a guitar with deep red paint and lacquer peeling off in chips, crumbling onto the floor. You wonder if she plays well. She argues on the phone with someone named Joel, but their conversations end in stubbornly grumbled “love you”s every time. Often, she wears that dark green jacket you met her in. You’ve been able to examine it a little more: it has some grease stains and says “Joel” on the front. Whoever he is to her, he’s probably some kind of mechanic. She’s always a little more tired than the day before. Sometimes you lay in bed and wonder if you’re some kind of creepy stalker. If you’re obsessed. No, you reason, she just looks cool. 

Across the train tracks, Ellie lies in bed, looking at the flags and banners on her ceiling, and she wonders the same thing. Is it weird that I’m disappointed when I don’t see her? Is it strange that I recognize her wardrobe? Your clothes tell a lot about you. You weren’t very confident when you talked to her, but by the manner in which you dressed, you had a good understanding of who you were, and even if you were slightly unconventional in some ways, you had no problem with showing your authentic self. That was something Ellie admired. You always had this… look in your eyes. Somehow hopeful and content, even though you were just riding on a dirty, shaky train to a dead-end job. It reminded Ellie of when she was a kid and had that same expression in Joel’s old pictures. You always had the same bracelet on. She wonders what it means to you, if it was a gift from someone you love.

There’s a silent understanding between the two of you. If you happen to make eye contact, it’s not unwelcome. You give her a smile and a small wave, and she offers a tight-lipped grin. One time, she awkwardly pretended to tip an invisible hat and immediately cringed at herself. She scrunched up her face and muttered “Why would I do that?”, swearing at herself. It was cute. You laughed a little, and she smiled, flustered. Apart from the few interactions you’d daydream about as you went through your monotone days, you hadn’t talked to the girl again. 

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

In an effort to stop being such a hopeless, pining loser, you downloaded Tinder to go on some casual dates. You’d gone on two, both girls being alright, but having no particular connection. But this last girl seemed relatively cool. Her name was Cat, and you’d opened with some line asking how many people made pussy jokes about her name. She’d responded well, and the two of you scheduled a date for 10 on a Sunday night. 

So why was it 11, and she still wasn’t showing? You’d ordered your red wine, then ordered water, then another wine, and there was no Cat to be found. The waiter would come around every so often and ask if you needed anything. There was an underlying tone of pity. The longer you sat alone, the more judging eyes you felt on you- after all, who sits alone at a table with two place settings? The waiter probably should’ve kicked you out a while ago, you think, wallowing in your emotions. 

You paid the bill and left after the staff offered a free slice of pie. That had sent you over the edge, tears pricking at your eyes as you thankfully wove your hands around. “That’s really so sweet, thank you guys so much, I’m okay, I really am, but I really appreciate this. You don’t know how much that means.” The rambling certainly didn’t help your appearance, but you really were grateful.

With a to-go box and an overreactive text to Cat, you left the restaurant, dragging the roses you’d brought for the date. You drudge to the red line, and you overthink as you wait for the train. The thoughts are entirely unreasonable, and you know this, but you let yourself have it—a little self-deprecation, as a treat.

The train is mostly empty, save for someone huddled in the corner. You’ve got quite a way to go to get home, and the first few stops feel torturously slow. About a quarter way through your ride-of-shame, someone boards the train. You avert your eyes as they do, not wanting to draw attention to how goddamn pathetic you feel. From the corner of your eye, you see them approach. The fuck? Am I gonna get stabbed? 

But you recognize those shabby Converse and the worn bottom of a guitar case. You look up to see the girl you’d been trying to get over, looking absolutely radiant in the disgustingly unflattering yellow light of the train. You follow her movements as she sits down right next to you, feeling absolutely entranced. Your gaze glances over her cute nose, the silver jewelry on her ear, and how two of her nails are cut too close to the flesh while the others are grown out. She clears her throat.

“So… you okay?” Her voice is a little hoarse, and it sounds like she’s been talking all day. She’s probably tired. You don’t usually see her on Sundays, so you wonder why she’s out. Her eyes are dark and tinted a little purple on the under-eye, but she stares at you like she genuinely wants to listen.

You realize you’ve been staring long enough to make it weird. “Um- yeah, I just- yeah. I’m good.” You throw up a pathetic thumbs-up. Jesus. That was… awful.

She smiles. “Say it again, but mean it this time.” You laugh a little.

“I look like I was mugged, huh?”

“No. You look nice. A little sad though. So what happened?” 

“I got stood up. It’s alright though, I wasn’t that into her.”

“Was she a dry texter or some kind of weirdo?” She says, and you chuckle.

As you lament to her about the no-show-Tinder-date, she listens intently, leaning forward as she nods along. Every so often she scoffs as you describe Cat, as if this stranger is your best friend spilling drama with you. It’s easy to talk to her when she acts so familiar with you.

“You fucking kidding? You bought her flowers and shit and offered to pay and she still didn’t show up?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s bullshit. You sound like the ideal date, honestly. Her loss.” Ellie cringes again. Could she have come on any stronger? Thankfully, it doesn’t seem like you mind, chuckling a little.

“I don’t know about all that, but thanks.” It’s quiet for a little, not awkward, but both of you can tell the other wants to keep talking. You decide to take the first leap. Maybe the fact that your subway girl is here is a sign from the universe. “So, I don’t usually see you on Sundays. Got your guitar with you. You do something fun?” You berate yourself internally- you know when you see her? Stalker, much?

She bashfully tells you that she went to an open mic in a Cambridge bar. “It was a little weird since I’m new to having an audience n’ all. I usually bring my guitar to work to practice, but that’s it.”

Your face lights up excitedly. “Hey, that’s so cool! I bet you did great.” Ellie holds in a smile, lips twitching upward as she tries to deflect the compliment.

“I guess I was okay. A little stiff, maybe.” You playfully hit her arm. She freezes for a second and looks down at where you touched her. Wow.

“Come on, don’t be so humble. You write your own stuff?”

“Yeah. Uh, I do.”

“You mind showing me?” Ellie startles. Of all the things she’d expected from tonight, she didn’t expect a late-night serenade. She places the guitar on her thigh, slipping it under her right arm. As she begins to play a song, you feel a weird shift in the air. Your face falls from its playful expression and you take the chance to admire her, from the dips and divets in her face to the artful spattering of freckles across her cheeks, to the scars along her arms and hands. You see her pretty tattoo again. It’s not perfect up close, but it’s more personal and charming. The ink is slightly faded and bleeds in the thinner areas. It looks like it covers a scar. Her eyebrows are furrowed as she focuses on hitting all the right notes, desperately wanting to impress you. 

As she finishes the song, she looks up at you, wide-eyed and vulnerable. You smile that bright smile at her again, and Ellie feels validated. Her chest is warm and her fingers are tingling- her body feels absolutely electrified. “You’re really skilled. That was amazing.”

Ellie shifts, subconsciously scooting closer to you as she does. Your thighs touch together and it feels right. It feels comfortable. “Thanks. Was that kinda cheesy or…?”

“How do you mean?”

“Was this a late-night guitar serenade?” She wiggles her eyebrows and you laugh.

“Mhm. Definitely. This some kind of meet-cute?” Ellie’s eyes crinkle again in the corners when you say this. You notice she doesn’t laugh a lot. She notices that you do. That’s charming, the two of you think.

“I don’t know. Is it working?” Her expression gets a little more serious. 

Your face experiences a flush of hot, then cold, as you feel yourself becoming embarrassed at how forward she is.” Yeah. It is.” You admit. She just nods, smiling.

“Cool.” It’s silent for a few beats again. “Cool cool cool.”

“...So, uh, I never got your name, actually.”

“Oh, shit, you’re right. I’ve just been calling you cute train girl. I’m Ellie.” Her hand slips into yours as you tell her your name. She’s a little clammy, but you are too. It’s awkward and a very weak handshake, but it’s incredibly important to the two of you.

“So uh-”

“Do you-” You both start to speak at the same time, and you chuckle and motion for her to speak first.

“Would you- and feel free to say no, like, I don’t wanna pressure you- but would you maybe want to go out with me? As a- as a make-up date of sorts?”

You grin like it’s the best thing you’ve ever heard. Ellie feels like a 17-year-old experiencing her first love because of how goddamn giddy she is. “I’d love that. I just- I don’t know about going out this late.” Ellie’s face falls a bit, and you feel like you kicked a puppy. You move quickly to defend what you said. “If you wanted to have the date now…” You pick the roses up from your side. A few have brown bruises from wilting, but you hand them to Ellie, who enjoys the gesture nevertheless.

“You’re corny.” She grins.

“You played the guitar for me. So, I guess you are too.” 

“Yeah. I guess so.” 

Ellie plays a few song covers for you. You give a few requests that she knows, and she peppers in a Weezer song and smiles like it’s the funniest thing ever. You play along, weirdly charmed. It feels like you’re the only two people in the world. The moment is far from perfect- the train jolts violently, the crisp fall air bites at your nose, and you and Ellie are both quite tired. But it’s a really, really nice moment. You know you’ll dream about it tonight.

Your stop comes first, and you reluctantly warn her that you’ll have to leave. Ellie asks for your number, and you happily give it to her. Her wallpaper is a picture of her and her friends, in which she is mid-eye roll. You smile a bit at it and put your contact name as “Cute Train Girl”. When you get your phone back, you see she’s put a dinosaur emoji next to her name. The speaker announces your station as the train rolls to a stop. Ellie stands up before you, taking your hand and helping you up.

“Would you maybe wanna do this again sometime? Not the ‘getting stood up and being on the gross train’ part, but like, a date. An actual date. Not one with someone doing k in the corner of a subway car?” You glance over at said man. Yeah, a real date sounds good.

“I’d love to. Just text me about it, yeah?”

Ellie breathes out a sigh of relief. “Yeah. Yeah, I will.”

You say goodbye and step out of the train car, and right as the train announces to be clear of the closing doors, a foot jams into it, and the door bounces back open. “Fuck, ow,” Ellie mutters. She runs out of the train and turns you to face her. “Don’t go yet. I just- I need to kiss you. I have for a while now.” She admits, and you fluster. She smiles at your reaction. “Don’t get too flattered.” She teases. 

You grin and bite your lip as she tilts your chin up. As your lips make contact, you realize that this is what you’ve been waiting for for months. There’s a sense of deja vu, like you’ve been experiencing this exact moment every night, and now that it’s finally happening, it barely feels real, but the feeling of Ellie’s lips against yours grounds you to the moment. You want to memorize the feeling of her adoration. 

You allow yourself to get lost in her touch, appreciating how lucky you were to get stood up.  If Cat wasn’t a no-show, you wouldn’t have gotten the chance to get to know Ellie. You wouldn’t have been able to explore this feeling with her. 

But most importantly, thank God for the red line and your incompetence with the card swiper.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams oneshot #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x fem!reader #fem reader #modern!ellie williams #moncherellie writing #ellie williams #ellie williams tlou2 #loser!ellie x reader #loser!ellie

[adirtylittleheart]

DIRTY LITTLE HEART While on vacation with all the old Boston friends, one of Chris' best friends walks in on him while he is showering. She wickedly watches him, but there is a twist... Warning: 18+ Smut, Fucking, P in V, masturbation, oral, cream-pie, squirt, cocksure Chris! Etc, CHRIS X OC Notes: Listened to Meg Meyers ''desire''. I loved writing this and I hope you enjoy it too.

A DIRTY LITTLE HEART It was going to happen. It was bound to happen.

Harlee walked to the bathroom, her head bopping up and down to the music floating through her earbuds into her ears. Her feet silently sank into the plush grey-fitted carpet extending throughout the long hallway. She was thinking of nothing but the lyrics and getting into a cool shower as she clutched her fresh clothing and white fluffy towel to her chest.

The triplets, Harlee, and their friends in Boston decided to club together and rent a holiday home for the summer vacation. It was an easy decision because they were a tight-knit group who got along without any hitches. Loyal, trustworthy friends who respected each other through and through. They had a plethora of things to do and places to visit making Florida the perfect destination. The house they had hired was on the luxurious side of the scale, with enough bedrooms for each of them that had spacious rooms and though it lacked just as many bathrooms, it did have one bathroom that resembled a mini spa. It didn’t bother anyone and they assumed the owners thought the mini spa-like bathroom made up for it.

The bathroom light was on, throwing a thin beam of light under the door crack, and the door was closed, but not latched. She didn’t pay mind because with a house filled with people, someone probably mistakenly left the light on. The door, after all, had not been latched, and it was also past midnight so, she assumed everyone had gone to bed. Harlee pushed the door open with her foot - just enough for her to slip into the bathroom. The contrast of the bright white bathroom light to the dark hallway, had her squeezing her eyes shut for a few seconds, before opening them to a scene in front of her that she would never forget.

Her eyes first fell on the clothes haphazardly strewn on the floor, and it was at that very second, when she recognised the clothing, that she should have fled the bathroom. Her brain was screaming at her to leave – this was one of her best friends! Yet her heart, her heart…was telling her something completely different. Her body? Her body refused to listen to either her brain or heart. Fuck the brain and the heart! Her body wanted… him.

Her eyes moved over the grey shorts she loved seeing him in so much, then over the black t-shirt with ‘pirate girl’ written on it, which she also loved on him, especially since he took scissors to them and cut the sleeves off. Then there were the black underpants, then his socks and shoes. She wanted to giggle because she could tell exactly what order he took everything off as he walked to the shower. She, herself was more of a pile everything on top of each other, and put her shoes neatly together to one side. Chris though, was a discarder – he haphazardly discarded his clothes and shoes. She knew he had kicked his shoes off because one was upright, next to his shorts, while the other, lay on its side on the blue and white bathmat in front of the tub.

She swallowed hard as her eyes lifted slowly to the shower. It was mid-summer; a heat wave was rolling across the country and they were right in the midst of it, so, everyone was having cold showers instead of hot…which meant there was absolutely no steam to fog the clear glass shower door.

Her eyes trailed up his legs and stopped on his superior ass that caused her to audibly gasp. She knew he would have a nice ass, but this?! Fucking-fantastic! Could she bounce a coin off of it? Most certainly yes. Did she want to smack it? Oh, hell yes! She immediately lifted a hand to her mouth and cupped it, as she curled her bottom lip between her lips. In a huge bathroom with nothing much to absorb sound, a needle dropping would bounce off the tiled walls. She also closed her eyes for a second waiting for Chris to start yelling at her and ask her what the hell she thought she was doing. However, there was nothing except the music playing in her ears. She couldn’t even hear the sound of the water raining down on him. She slowly opened one eye, peeping through it to see if Chris was standing with a towel around himself yelling at her, but he was still under the cool shower. But he had turned 60 degrees… towards her!

‘Fuck’ she silently screamed, and her eyes immediately searched Chris’ face to see if he was any the wiser that she was there, but his eyes were firmly closed as he tilted his head back and lifted his face up to the water. She inhaled the feint scent of his masculine body wash and shampoo as her eyes ran over his naked body. Her eyes lingered on his chest, stomach, and V line before her eyes fell onto his perfect…very perfect dick. She heard herself squeak as she bit her bottom lip harder. The damn music in her ears along with the sight of Chris made every nerve in her body tingle in pure bliss. His dick was so solid and rock hard, - she was sure if he tapped her pussy with it, she would break in half. It was long, thick, and straight, oh lordy, it was so straight, jutting up, begging to be held, to be stroked, to be relieved of the pressure. As Chris brought his hand down from wiping water off his face, to curl his palm, and those long, idyllic, superb fingers around his thick shaft, Harlee pulled her hand away from her mouth and yanked her earbuds out just as Chris let out a throaty moan.

Holy shit! She actually started shaking at how he moaned, as she pushed her earbuds into her shorts pocket, but one of her earbuds got hooked on the lip of the pocket and somehow bounced into the air. Shit. She really didn’t want that to be the reason he was alerted to her presence. Her wicked presence. She quickly dipped her hand below the earbud that clearly thought it was a time to be free-spirited and caught it with a silent sigh of relief. Chris groaned again and Harlee looked at him, pushing the earbuds back, deep into her pocket. She watched as he firmly grasped his erection in his fist pumping with great fervour as the most sublime, toe-curling, moans and groans emanated from him. It took all of Harlee's willpower to not drop her belongings and begin to touch herself.

As she watched him with attentive eyes, she knew he was getting close. She was going to have to time it perfectly so she see him cum and leave just before he finished…though, she desperately wanted to watch the whole show. Chris’s other hand lifted and he placed his palm against the smokey grey tiles, his chest rising and falling at a faster rate than it was. He dropped his head slightly, and the most enthralling, pleasurable moan that escaped him sent a shiver up Harlee’s spine. His knees buckled slightly and his hand almost became a blur as he said ‘’Fuuuckk,’’ and tilted his head back. Harlee unconsciously licked her lips as she watched his cum flying through the air.

Some hit the wall, while some landed on the floor and she was surprised at how much he had cum and was still cumming when she spun around on her spot and quietly left the bathroom, thinking what a waste of his cum that was, when it could have been in one of her many holes or, on her. The thought of it actually swirling down the drain with the water left her feeling somewhat somber. Harlee leaned against the wall just outside the bathroom, breathing heavily herself from a mixture of anticipation, thrills, lust, and adrenaline. Her heart was beating fast and she had a fine sheet of perspiration on her skin. She sucked in a breath, knowing that above all the mixed emotions coursing through her veins, she was breathing that heavily because she had secretly loved Chris for a long time.

She pushed herself away from the wall, pondering on how she fell in love with Chris. When? How? They had been friends for as long as she could recall with the Triplets, though Chris and Harlee enjoyed competing in everything and, with each other. Whether it was a basketball game, baking, or challenges, they were always the two up against each other. They loved to see who would win. They had fun, they teased each other playfully but that was where it ended. She made sure when she was around Chris, she hid and buried her feelings so no one, especially him, could see how she really felt about him. She thought she did, anyway.

After she had padded back to her room, a few doors down from the bathroom, she stopped in front of her bedroom door and swung her head in the direction of the bathroom, realizing that there wasn’t a how or when she fell in love. She just fell in love with the boy who turned into a man over the years, and it wasn’t that he was just good-looking, or because he made her laugh, it was everything about him. She loved everything about him.

A guilt that had been seeded in the pit of her stomach as soon as she knew Chris was in the bathroom had suddenly sprouted and the guilt seemed to vine its way through her with every passing second. She let out a deep, audible sigh and turned back around. She had no idea what she was going to say to Chris but she knew she would figure it out. She bit her bottom lip thinking she couldn’t possibly say ‘’hey Chris I walked into the bathroom and watched you rub one out. Sorry.’’ First of all, she wasn’t sorry. She wasn’t sorry at all. Second of all, it could ruin their friendship. Deep in thought and focused on what she was going say, she walked back to the bathroom and pushed the door open.

There, facing her was Chris. Naked. His towel just leaving his fingers tips as he dropped it to the floor beside himself. Why was he not dressed yet? She had expected him to be dressed, maybe brushing his teeth. The faint smell of mint clinging to the air told her he had brushed his teeth before getting dressed, and her breath hitched in her throat. She fucked up. So badly. Twice. She closed her eyes, squeezed them shut, and let out a shaky breath.

When she snapped her eyes open Chris was still standing in the same spot, and Harlee could only surmise that he was in shock. It bothered her that she couldn’t read his expression because Chris was a really expressive person, even in his facial features. She cleaned her throat and shifted in her spot, her eyes shifting from his eyes, down his body again. She didn’t want to, but her eyes apparently had a mind of their own. She couldn't help it. Fuck! She had the perfect, most wonderful view of his flaccid dick, right in front of her. Strangely though, Chris didn’t try and cover himself up or turn away. He knew he had a perfect dick and continued to let her gaze. Gaze? No, she was enraptured and staring. She so much wanted to revel in the pleasure of giving him a blow job. However, as hard as it was, she was able to pull her eyes off of him and turn around.

‘’I apologize, Chris,’’ she said choosing her words carefully because again, she wasn’t sorry. She just couldn't find the remorse for walking in on him, twice, and seeing his dick.

‘’Har,’’ Chris said, as she took a step to leave the bathroom. She closed her eyes, scrunching her nose up, not knowing if he was going to yell at her, or if he was going to be sweet and tell her what she did was wrong in the kindest way he could. He was going to make her feel so guilty that the guilt would ooze from every pore on her body. She would have preferred Chris yelling at her.

She took a deep breath and turned back around. Their eyes locked for a few seconds and she intended to keep it that way but her eyes were betraying her yet again. ‘SLUT!’ her brain shouted at her. She had never in her life felt her body and brain having such a tug of war. It usually worked as a whole, together in a uniform fashion but for the past half hour every part of her body was wanting and doing a different thing. It wasn't that any part of her didn't want to see him, it was her moral values bugging her - he was her best friend. She reasoned with herself that if Chris was going to yell or be sweet about it…or even end their friendship, at least she had a really good view while he did it!

Then it happened. It twitched. She saw it, it twitched! And with that one twitch, it became longer and larger. Her world came to a standstill, her eyes fixed on Chris’ dick, him standing motionless before her and her mind went to the song she was listening to earlier – ‘Desire, I’m hungry, I hope you feed me. How do you want me?’ It twitched again, and all by itself, without any help from his fingers, it began to grow on its own. And he let her watch it happen.

When it was fully erect, pointing boldly skyward, his silky smooth head and hole staring up at the ceiling, she finally lifted her eyes to meet his. She found him intently staring at her, studying her, a very small smile playing on his lips. The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. She blinked at him, thinking his recovery time was astonishing – he had only just cum and it was plenty. She opened her mouth and closed it again, only to open it again but all that came out was squeak. Chris let out a short laugh and she quickly cleared her throat.

‘’Wow,’’ was all she could manage to muster up and this time he smiled. A big, broad smile that could melt her heart and make her legs go weak at times, but she could tell behind his eyes, his mind was working overtime. She could always tell when he was deep in thought because he got a far away look and she could almost hear the cogs turning in his head.

Thinking she should leave him alone, she turned and took a few steps and just when her foot touched the carpet in the hallway, he said:

‘’You’re just gonna pull the trigger and walk away? Did you enjoy enjoy the show?’’ Chris asked in a low, sexy voice that made her shiver and stop in her tracks. She looked over her shoulder at him.

‘’How did you know?’’ she asked, feeling her cheeks grow hot, as she turned back around

Chris smiled and picked the towel up that was laying on the floor and put it around his waist, his still hard dick tenting it. He then grabbed his belongings off the floor and stood up straight.

‘’It’s your birthday in a few days…that perfume you use always smells so nice. Subtle but potent at the same time. I smell it all day on you too, so it must be good quality. What’s it called, so I can get you another bottle?’’ he asked as he walked towards her

She gave him a confused look and mumbled, ‘’Jo Malone. Blue suede and peony.’’

‘’Mmmm,’’ he said, side stepping her to get out the door, ‘’I can always tell when you’ve come into a room. It just smells so fucking good.’’

Harlee's mouth fell open and she let out a sigh as she picked a foot up off the cool tiles slightly and stomped it back down. FUCK! He knew she was there all the time and he didn’t once let on that he knew. He jacked off, knowing she was there. She felt like a jackass, but was she sorry? Nope, still not.

Chris laughed, ‘’enjoy your shower Harl's,’’ he said as he walked out the bathroom.

‘’You won’t win, Chris. Just because you knew -’’ she was saying but Chris cut her off

‘’Oh, Harlee, I’ve already won,’’ he said and closed the door cutting the conversation off.

Harlee huffed and threw her belongings on the basin counter. She looked into the huge mirror before her and smiled – at least he wasn’t pissed off at her. In all intents and purposes, she felt like she was the one who won; she was the one who got to see him naked, to see the hottest, most arousing thing she had ever seen when he had masturbated. She would never tell him that though. As she stared at herself, her smile started to disappear and a frown took its place…why did he think he won? ---

After Harlee had washed and conditioned her hair, she scrubbed her body with a coconut body wash she loved and then shaved. She was enjoying her last moments in the shower when she looked at the tiled wall where Chris’ cum had landed but had washed away by now, showing no sign he had even been in the bathroom. She ran a hand over her face wondering if she had imagined it all? She had been out in the sun all day, soaking up the heat and rays, so maybe she was tired and fantasized about it? Chris had been so calm with the whole situation – were they going to pretend it never happened, if it did? Fuck, how was she going to do that when she had witnessed one of the most phenomenal things she had ever seen…by her best friend?

Harlee’s palms were planted firmly against the tiled wall as she lowered her head into the tepid spray of the shower. With her eyes closed, she just smiled to herself, feeling giddy. Her one hand slid down the tiles and she touched her swollen nipples, rolling them in gentle twists. She felt weightless like she was made of pure sensation. The delicious warmth in her pussy seemed to radiate throughout her body. Now her hand moved down to cup her smooth mound. She raked the damp furrow with her finger, imagining it was Chris’. She had thought earlier that his fingers were ‘’idealistic’ and she thought of that word because that’s exactly what they were – ideal to slide into any pussy. Any woman who had a pulse would have wanted that because they were perfect, long, slim. Her lips parted easily as she teased herself, feeling a new flush of nectar. The pulse in her clit was already growing and she let out a moan, feeling her orgasm coming on fast and furiously. She wasn’t surprised.

She suddenly heard the familiar click of the metal magnets on the huge glass door and before she could even react, she felt a hand clasp around her wrist, then around the one on the wall. She gasped, but when she saw the hands, she found herself smiling wickedly.

‘’Not yet sweet cheeks,’’ Chris whispered in her ear and pulled both of her arms behind her back. Chris called her that every now and then, but it was always in a teasing manner, however, he was far from teasing her now. He gathered her delicate wrists together in his left hand, pinning them behind her back but slightly to the left so that he could get closer to her. His free hand slid around her waist and over her toned, flat stomach, then up her abdomen until he cupped one of her breasts. Harlee let a moan escape her as a reward when he gently but firmly squeezed it and flicked the nipple. She closed her eyes when he moved even closer to her, pushing his hard dick into the small of her back.

‘’It’s only fair that I came to watch,’’ he said into her ear again, and pushed his lips to her wet temple.

She nodded in agreement. Hell, he could have her…all of her as punishment for doing what she did.

‘’You are so…fucking gorgeous,’’ he whispered again, his lips brushing her earlobe, causing her to shiver slightly

‘’You were a naughty girl, Har,’’ he said softly, his hand running back down to her stomach and all she could do was nod in agreement again. The only logical thought she could conjure up was that her pussy was throbbing and she needed him inside of her.

‘’How long? How long have you been feeling this way towards me?’’ he asked as his fingers slid over her smooth pussy.

Harlee only let out a breath of a groan and spread her legs a fraction further to give him better access.

‘’Baby girl, how long?’’ he asked and yanked slightly on her wrists

‘’A…a long time. I don’t know where along the line I fell for you, but I did. I didn’t mean to come in here tonight, it was an accident, Chris, but I’m not sorry,’’ she said and sucked in a sharp breath when he parted her pussy lips and then slid a finger into her.

‘’I know…because I’ve felt the same way about you, and I think it’s time you knew the animal, the one that sleeps inside. The thing that adores you, and wants you and wants to fuck you,’’ he whispered.

Harlee’s eyes snapped open and she turned her head to look at Chris, tilting her head up slightly. He smiled at her and dipped his head, then pushed his lips against hers. He kissed her once, twice, to make sure she was okay with this and she let him know it was by latching onto his lips in the third kiss. She parted his lips with her own and plunged her tongue into his mouth. This time it was Chris who rewarded her with a moan. The hungry fuelled kiss was nothing short of primal desire.

Chris slipped his ring finger into her, stretching her, and causing her to gasp into the kiss.

Chris pulled from the kiss, a smirk on his face, ‘’ooo, you’re tight,’’ he said excitedly, but not really surprised. She was tiny but she was slender from all the sports she did in school and now that they were in their twenties, she worked out a lot. He loved it because she was always ready to go. Always ready to play a sport or up for anything competitive. Her competitive side made her even more appealing to him, though, he knew even if she wasn’t though, he would have still fallen for her because she was sweet, generous, and utterly gorgeous in and out. ‘’I don’t know that I’m going to fit in you.’’

‘’Make it fit,’’ she said and Chris let out a low moan

‘’Tell me who’s going to win tonight,’’ Chris asked next to her ear again as she leaned her head back against his chest. He could tell she was going to cum soon. Her walls had started fluttering around his fingers and her breathing had increased significantly.

‘’We…both…are…’’ she said with out thinking, between breaths

‘’Fuck, yes baby girl,’’ he said letting go of her wrists, and pulling his fingers out from her, but he didn’t go far; he slid them up to her small, pearly clit. His other hand slid up her back and he gathered her wet hair into his fist as he began to kiss her, placing the most delectable kisses on her soft skin. He started on her shoulder, moving to her neck.

‘’I have a deep secret,’’ he said between the kisses, as he moved around her so that he was standing in front of her, but he never stopped circling her clit. He was driving her insanely wild. The man knew what he was doing. He was applying just enough pressure and movement to keep her on edge but not enough to get her off yet.

‘’Chris…’’ she breathed

‘’It’s you. You’re my deep secret. In my fantasy you look so good with my cum all over you, inside you or dripping from your pussy. There’s spit and sweat.. I know exactly what time you go and shower, baby girl; you’re a creature of habit. Think it was coincidental I was in here? I knew if you stayed while I was showering, I won. If you stayed I knew it meant you felt the same way I feel about you. You stayed, we’re both going to win. Now cum,’’ he said and pushed just a little harder, and went a fraction faster, on her clit. Her eyes widened as she sucked in a breath.

Chris knew her well enough to know she was filling her lungs with air as her orgasm hit her to let the air out in a scream. He put his hand on the back of her head and pulled her towards his chest, burying her face against himself. Her arms flew up behind him and she grabbed his shoulders, clinging onto him as she screamed into his chest, her legs starting to shake uncontrollably as shock waves of pleasure ripped through her from her heels to her temples. Although her scream was muffled, Chris was sure the beginning of her scream had been heard throughout the house. It had echoed in the bathroom, bouncing off the tiled walls.

Chris put an arm around her waist to keep her from falling as her body shook and she rode out her orgasm. Her grip on his shoulders eventually eased up and she tilted her face up and looked at Chris with her big eyes. She bit her lip in such a seductive way, his cock twitched and he smiled at her, raising his brows.

‘’What?’’ he asked putting his fingers under her chin. He brushed his thumb over her lip making her feel like she was adored by him.

‘’That was…afuckingmazing. I’ve never cum that hard,’’ she whispered, barely audible over the sound of the water

‘’Just wait, we’re going to have so much fun but, on your knees baby. I hated being second best every time you went out with someone else,’’ he said, pushing her down as he said it.

Harlee licked her lips and smiled up at him, ‘’oh, Chris, you were never second best. Nothing happened with any of them, because they weren’t you,’’ she said and opened her mouth.

‘Fuck!’ he thought, curling his hand tighter around her hair. He let out an audible groan of pleasure as her lips met the tip of his penis. Pleasure spread throughout his groin before shooting along his entire body, causing his muscles to clench and his fist to tighten roughly in her long hair. He had closed his eyes with absolute pleasure, but they shot back open when she pulled her head back. "Fuck you taste so good!" said, her words heavy with excitement. "Use my mouth. You deserve it after letting me watch you." Harlee's words made his cock pulse with a fresh influx of blood as the adrenaline kicked in. His award-winning smile crept back to his lips as he wrapped her long hair around his right hand and gripped it tightly as he grabbed the back of her head with his left. He rocked his hips as he thrust into her mouth simultaneously and pushed her head down on himself. He let out a loud groan of pleasure when he felt the tip of his penis press against the back of her throat. The resistance was only momentary before she opened her throat and took him in. Warm, wet pressure encased his dick as he slid deeper. He kept expecting her to gag or tap out so she could take a break, but then he felt her tongue lapping at his balls.

He was just going to look down at her when there was a knock on the door, and then Nick’s voice came from the other side.

‘’Chris? You okay? We thought we heard a scream a few minutes ago,’’ Nick asked

Chris looked down at Harlee, who was looking up at him, his dick filling her little mouth, but she looked so fucking good! ‘’Do I sound like a fucking girl when I scream?’’ Chris asked and this time Harlee choked as she tried to laugh, so she pulled back.

‘’Chris? What are you doing in there? Pretty sure I’ve heard the shower running for a while now,’’ Matt asked

‘’I’m…fucking,’’ Chris said and shrugged his shoulders at Harlee

There was a brief silence before Matt spoke again, ‘’yeah….fucking himself. He is fine.’’

‘’Fuck you Matt!’’ Chris shouted with a laugh as they all started laughing

‘’Wait,’’ Nick said, ‘’Harlee wasn’t in her room…are you…do you know how long we have been watching you two, hoping you would just get together…’’

Chris shook his head, ‘’we’re trying to fuck and he is having a conversation on the other side there,’’ he said and lifted his head, then shouted, ‘’later Nick! Please just…go.’’

‘’Oh,’’ Nick said and burst out laughing, ‘’yeah. Sorry. Carry on.’’

Harlee giggled and Chris pulled her up, then pushed some hair that was plastered on her forehead back, ‘’you okay, or did that just ruin everything?’’ he asked

Harlee smiled and looked from his still hard rock dick to his eyes. She tilted her head slightly to the side looking into his eyes that looked as if they were pleading with her to still be in the mood. ‘’Chris, wild horses couldn’t drag me out of here,’’ she said and stood on her tippy toes as she lifted her face to his and put her arms around his neck.

Chris gave her a smile and picked her up with ease as he placed one hand on her waist, the other on an ass cheek, and kissed her. He knew he was never going to tire from her delicious kisses. She smiled into the kiss and wrapped her legs around him, his big dick between them, exciting her even more.

Chris kept his one arm firmly on her ass as he turned the water off and then pushed the shower door open. He silently thanked his lucky stars that he could easily hold her as he stepped out of the shower with the full intention of going to his room opposite the bathroom, but it seemed it would be the longest walk of his life when all he wanted to do was bury his already aching dick into her wet pussy. It would also mean they would have to dry themselves off, and get dressed for a minute to only take their clothes off again.

His eyes landed on the sink counter, made of marble, and since it was a double sink, there was enough space between them to plant her fine little ass on. Harlee had moved her kisses to his cheek, his incredible jaw, and down his neck, leaving Chris to smile at the view in the mirror at the back of the sink counter.

‘’Chris?’’ she said between the kisses

‘’Yeah babe?’’ he replied, squeezing one of her ass cheeks that fit so well into his hand

‘’I need you to fuck me…now,’’ she said. Bingo. The counter it was.

He stepped up to the counter and claimed her lips with his again as he set her down. She let out a tiny gasp as the contrast of the cool counter top hit her hot skin, so Chris immediately pulled her off again and grabbed her big fluffy towel, placing it where she was going to be fucked real good.

‘’Thank you,’’ she whispered as he set her down again

‘’Anything for you,’’ he said with a smile that made her pussy wet, while Chris grabbed his cock and smeared his pre-cum over his shaft.

‘’That’s so hot,’’ Harlee said watching Chris.

Chris smiled, and stroked his cock another two times, and then aimed his cock at her dripping pussy. She pushed herself back a fraction and lifted her legs, placing her heels on the very edge of the counter, her legs spread open, giving Chris the best view he could have asked for.

‘’Fuuuuck. You’re better than any of my fantasies,’’ he said staring at her as she did to him earlier. ‘’You…you have the best little pussy and titties I’ve ever seen.’’

Harlee smiled but she threw her head back when Chris suddenly bent down and flattened his tongue against her pussy and ran his tongue up to her clit.

‘’Oh my god!’’ she squealed and gripped the edge of the counter with her fingertips as she arched her back. Chris lifted his eyes and with her titties on display the way they were, his pre-cum doubled and ran down his shaft.

Chris laughed and stood up straight, grabbing his dick again, ‘’you taste so fucking good, but I need my dick in you,’’ he said and pressed his tip against her pussy

‘’MMM, yes, get that monster into me,’’ she moaned. She was impossibly slick, with enough warmth radiating from her core to promise a welcoming and unforgettable union. Ever so slowly, he pressed the tip of his dick towards its goal. Her pussy embraced his dick, bringing a gasp from the both of them. A tingling sensation rushed through Chris’ body, threatening to make him lose control. but he growled with pleasure as he squeezed into her, which was echoed by Harlee.

‘’You’re so wet,’’ Chris murmured, with relief

She nodded, ‘’I told you, watching you…is something else,’’ she said and sucked in a breath, ‘’just do it.’’

Chris grabbed the back of her head and pulled her into a hungry kiss as he slammed into her. Her pussy constricted tightly around his shaft, but she was so wet that he could almost feel her sucking him in deeper and deeper. She whimpered into the kiss for a moment but Chris felt her relax almost immediately. The worst was over but, the sudden enveloping of his dick had surprised him, sending a shiver through his body as his climax rushed in. He gritted his teeth and every muscle in his body as he staved off his orgasm. It had never come so fast before, but the highly erotic nature of being with Harlee was a strong force. Chris had paused letting her adjust to him before started thrusting.

‘’Fuck you feel good,’’ Chris breathed and she could only nod, unable to form coherent words. He was so deep, she expected to taste him in her throat at any moment. Chris kissed her and placed a hand between her legs. He brushed a thumb over her clit and began moving it in circles. He was sure he had only moved his thumb around twice before she moaned into the kiss and her pussy clamped down around him.

She pulled from the kiss and looked at Chris, her eyes were huge, her breathing was fast and furious. Her mouth was forming a perfect ‘o’, her face riddled with a mixture of confusion and surprise. She placed her hands on Chris's chest and tried to push him away as she simultaneously tried to scoot back. Chris let out a laugh and grabbed Harlee’s legs just as her heels slipped from the counter, and pulled her back to him, slamming into her. ''Fuck, fuck, fuck...Chris...,'' she squealed

‘’Let it out baby,’’ he said

‘’OH MY GOD,’’ she screamed just before she buried her face into his shoulder, her screams muffled against Chris's flesh and muscles as he felt her pussy gush and pulse, soaking his dick and pelvis.

Chris received the most amazing massage he had ever felt. Her body vibrated, she shook for nearly a full minute before she finally came down from her high. Chris slowed his pace down and smiled at her when she pulled her face from his shoulder.

‘’Bet you haven’t cum like that before either?’’ he asked with a proud smirk

She laughed and shook her head, ‘’no. Fuck! Holy fucking fuck,’’ she replied, making him laugh

‘’You’re even more beautiful when you cum, but it’s my turn,’’ he said and began pumping into her again, and it wasn’t long before they were both on the edge, but Harlee won as she cried out in ecstasy but Chris was right on her tail. Everything hit Chris, sending him tumbling into his own orgasm and pushing him over the edge; the position they were in, the sight of them fucking, the noises emanating from Harlee, his dick deep in her pussy, the smell surrounding them and her tight pussy like a vice grip exploding around his cock, then the wet splash against his public bone. Chris let out a loud groan that echoed around the bathroom. He tilted his head back as he shot load after load into Harlee, overfilling her. He was still shaking and trembling as he looked down and saw his cum spilling out around his cock. It was so, so tight, he didn’t think there was room, but the site aroused him even more and he groaned again, feeling his last bit of cum shoot out. The orgasm had spread through his body and his legs shook slightly. Harlee started to come down from her orgasm and then slumped against Chris. He wrapped his arms around her, his one hand holding the back of her head, ever protective and scared she would slide off the counter or hit her head. She was well and truly spent. He pushed his lips against her damp hair. Breathing hard, Chris pulled himself out of Harlee and then pulled her closer to him. Her legs slipped off the counter and hung like a rag doll while she fully recovered.

‘’If it all ended now, I’d be set,’’ Chris said softly. ‘’I mean I want a future with little me’s and you’s running around but if it did all end now, I’d be the happiest man there.’’

‘’I think I love you, a lot more than friends,’’ Harlee whispered

‘’I fucking hope so, 'cause I love you too,’’ he said and moved back so he could look at her. She smiled at him as she looked up at him, loving everything about him. ‘’I love that we both won today and I want to keep it that way. Cause baby when it's you and me, we will never lose, when it's you and me...together, ’’ Chris said with such sincerity, Harlee knew that she really was the winner - she had Chris through thick and thin.

''If you didn't set this up, I would have forever been yearning for you,'' Harlee said and intertwined her fingers with his, ''how did you know I stayed to watch you though? The perfume didn't mean I stayed.'' ''I knew you stayed because I would have stayed too. See, we both win,'' he said and pushed his lips to hers thanking the heavens that she had a dirty little heart. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing this. Thank you to everyone who has read, and/or liked it, reblogged, and commented. From the bottom of my heart, It means so much to me and you are really appreciated.

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #the sturniolo triplets

[sam-loves-seb]

steddie christmas party au

the thing is--there's an office holiday party coming up.

steve, who works as a guidance counselor at hawkins middle, knows that every year the staff throws a holiday party. he wasn't here for the one last year, off visiting nancy and robin in boston for the holidays, but everyone says it's always a good time and the teachers have all been hounding him to go.

the thing is--he wouldn't even mind going alone. he actually likes some of his co-workers, and he has enough natural charm to survive one night of bad food and christmas music and punch that's just a little too strong to have more than two glasses without getting wasted. he knows that he could go alone and everything would be fine.

but he doesn't really want to.

"plus one?" the school secretary says with raised brows as he hands in his rsvp card. "i didn't know you were seeing anybody."

steve just shrugs as he turns to head back to his office. it's not like people haven't tried to pry into his love life before--some of the female teachers make their availability blaringly obvious to him every time he answers the question "do you have a girlfriend" with "no"--they just haven't gone about it in the right way.

it's not like he's hiding his relationship, people just assume, and they assume incorrectly. that's not his fault.

"the staff christmas party?" eddie asks that night as they're getting ready for bed. "you seriously want to go to that?"

"you don't have to come," steve tells him around a mouthful of toothpaste, then spits. "i just thought it might be nice for you to meet some of my co-workers, and for some of them to meet you. but if you don't want to come with me, that's okay, really."

"babe, if you want me there, i'm there," eddie tells him as he ditches his jeans for flannel pajamas. "just don't be surprised when i get tipsy off the punch and make a fool out of you on the dance floor."

and so, they went to the party with steve dressed in his usual khakis with this favorite ugly christmas sweater worn over a casual dress shirt, and eddie in his usual black on black, though he switched the band t-shirt for a button-up. he added a red tie last minute to try and be more festive for the party, even though steve kept telling him he could wear whatever he wanted.

they walk into the gym hand in hand, and more than a few people stop talking to turn and stare.

but eddie's not paying attention because he's looking at the tinsel hung up on the walls and wondering how they got it that high up, and steve ignores all the surprised faces looking at him until he spots his group of friends tucked together in the corner, some with their spouses, some without.

he drags eddie over to them and introduces him as his boyfriend--saying it loud enough for every goddamn eavesdropper to hear it clearly--and eddie shakes hands and smiles as steve's friends greet him without missing a beat.

they eat and they drink and they dance, and most of the party gets over their initial shock pretty quickly after seeing how happy steve is with eddie around. the rest of the night goes by quickly, and someone even snaps a picture of steve kissing eddie under the mistletoe hanging over the gym door.

by the time the students come back from break in the new year the rumors about mr. harrington sexuality are basically non-existent--thank you short attention spans--and most of the teachers have stopped asking him if he has a girlfriend. steve feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders, one he didn't even realize he was carrying. it's freeing, having everyone--everyone who matters--know about about eddie.

and when the staff christmas party rolls around again next year, steve has twice as much fun dragging eddie under the mistletoe with a ring on his finger and a date picked out for the spring.

#more random au hcs because i cannot be stopped #can u tell i love office holiday party fics #i just think they're neat #steddie #steddie headcanon #steddie fandom #my steddie hcs #my steddie posts #my steddie au #steddie au #steddie hc #stranger things #stranger things au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #holiday office party #holiday party #boyfriends #steddie office party au

[thewayuarent]

Boston and Ray deserve each other

In a very positive way

I have a theory that if we’ll think about this friend group in a long-term perspective, Boston and Ray have the best chances to keep their relationship and grow up to an actual friendship. Let me explain.

Boston and Ray, while being very different, have a lot of common traits. And what differ them from the other two in this friend group, is that both Ton and Ray are people who constantly judged by their surroundings (and society) for their behavior - Boston is a slut, which is bad for some reason, and Ray is a suicidal alcoholic, which makes him a burden in everyone’s eyes.

And that makes them outcasts from their perfect, level-headed, proper friends Mew and Cheum (seriously fuck them both I’m so sorry I tried my best). So I believe they have at least some level of mutual understanding. It’s not coincidence that Boston was the one who was responsible for taking drunk Ray home. It’s not coincidence that Ray was the one who listened about all Boston’s who’s and how’s. They may not be very much supportive of each other, but they know they don’t have a right to judge the other also.

The thing with these two, in my opinion, is that while they don’t necessarily judge other’s behavior, they know very well what’s other weak spots are. And they know how and when bring it to the table. Boston outed Ray in frond of Sand? Ray does the same shit with Boston in frond of Nick! Do I believe that Ray actually judges Boston for his sex adventures? No. But I know, and Ray knows, how it will look like in other’s eyes.

And don’t get me wrong, those two love seeing each other miserable. Boston fucked up Ray’s attempt to get a new start with Sand just because he was feeling like this. Because Ray in his eyes is, well, pathetic with his whole being in love with Mew situation. And did my boy enjoyed it.

Same way Ray is very much enjoys the view of Boston being screamed at by Cheum. He’s absolutely having fun.

But. But they still have a level they won’t step over. The bar is very low, but it’s here.

Because when Ray is on his lowest point, crushed by cops while Cheum screams at him (about the same thing Boston previously laughed at), Boston doesn’t have fun anymore.

Because when Cheum (why is it always her) tells Boston he’s cut off his friends and the project that will cost him his future, Ray doesn’t have fun anymore.

They don’t do anything to help or support each other, obviously, but they are worried. Cheum is angry, Mew is either black out or having the best time of his life, but those two are actually concerned. And I know it’s not much, and it’s absolutely not what you expect from friends, but this is Boston and Ray we’re talking about.

Both of them, very differently, have no idea how to love properly. Because both of them have no idea how to be loved either. They both know their roles - a slut or a burden - they know how people see them and they are used to it. This is why we get constant parallels between BostonNick and SandRay dynamics.

Because when was the last time someone - including themselves - saw them as something more than a number of dirty toxic unhealthy traits?

When was the last time anyone appreciated how talented of a photographer Boston is?

When was the last time anyone told Ray he has good taste in music?

Was anyone there before to not just love them, cause sometimes it’s the easiest part, but to see them, forgive them, be there for them again, and again, and again?

I honestly don’t think so.

And yes, for now they are absolutely not there, but I do believe that they will grow - they’re doing it already. They will learn how to care about others the same way they will learn to accept someone’s love and care.

And for now it’s Nick and Sand, but - baby steps - while they’ll continue their journeys, they will learn to give it for other people. And I would bet on them finding each other again. In a way more healthier place.

#ofts #only friends the series #only friends #only friends meta #sandray #bostonnick #only friends boston #only friends ray #yes I also believe they fucked in the past #I will never stop thinking about that #nothing in this world proves me the opposite

[whoseholtz]

if i could tell her | will smith

pairing : will smith x fem!reader

warnings : the BRIEFEST mention of being drunk underage, cursing, situationships (ick), reader is a theater kid, use of y/n, dear evan hansen, kissing, but just sickening fluffiness mainly <3

summary : will finally plucks up the courage to tell y/n he wants their relationship be more than just casual, and when he tries confessing he unintentionally quotes dear evan hansen

word count : 2.5k

Y/N and Will had been casually ‘going out’ for around a month now, but due to their conflicting schedules, they rarely got time alone together. Whenever either party had ever felt like they had the right moment to attempt at confessing, something always seemed to come up, or in many cases, ruin the moment.

The previous Monday, Will was quite literally seconds away from finally, officially, asking Y/N out. But do you know what happened? Gabe interrupted; the moment was perfect, and his teammate had ruined it.

Will attempted not to seem phased by it and tried to move on, but he still felt a hint of bitterness in his stomach when he thought back to that day.

However, the failed attempts aside, Will was determined that today was the day; in a few hours, Y/N would be his girlfriend and he would be her boyfriend. At least that was the hope.

Everything was planned out; that very night was Y/N’s first performance in front of a sold-out audience as Evan Hansen in BC’s production of DEH. He was so proud of her to be able to land the main role in the musical, nevermind that it was a usually male-dominated part to have.

Will has spent hours with her rehearsing, reading lines back and forth to help her learn them perfectly and not mess up. The girl had already known the entire musical by heart, but conditioning yourself to then only play one role was actually quite difficult, something she found out rather quickly.

While the boy wouldn't admit it, he actually enjoyed the soundtrack and found himself listening to the songs in his day-to-day life, even on the way to training.

On one particular occasion, he’d been walking to the rink on his own before Gabe and Ryan had joined him, and due to the noise canceling on his headphones, he hadn't realized until Ryan had nudged him in the side lightly, he'd jumped and paused his music.

This led to him being asked what he was listening to, and without really thinking, he’d replied, “Oh, just Dear Evan Hansen, you know.” Needless to say, he’d been teased for being a theater kid multiple times since then.

This musical had somewhat become a shared passion between Will and Y/N, and even though the hockey player wasn't directly involved in the production, he still felt as though he had become a part of the family that was the cast and crew. Most of his time was taken up by hockey, but that didn't stop him from popping in and helping wherever he could.

Ironically, the group had always referred to Will as “Y/N’s boyfriend," and every time either of them tried to remind anybody that they weren't official yet, eyes would be rolled and unconvinced looks would be pointedly given. So, maybe it was about time they could make the nickname accurate.

Special. That’s what he wanted this to be: special. It was all planned out to be just that, and with the night that it was going to be, Will thought it was no better timing than the present.

Smiling to himself, he thought about the fact that, if all went to plan, he could be cheering from the audience for his girlfriend, not just whatever he was supposed to call her right now.

Presently, Will stood at the entry to the block of dorms Y/N stayed in. He had asked his teammates to help pick an outfit for him and hoped it would impress the girl he was hoping to sweep off her feet.

He wore his favorite suit, a maroon-red color similar to the colors of Boston College itself, with a matching tie and white shirt. Perhaps it was cliche; the more he thought about it, the worse those concerns made him worry, but he brushed the thoughts out of his mind, watching the doorway with anticipation.

In his hands, he held a sweet bouquet of flowers—pink tulips, to be exact. No, he couldn't confirm they were her favorite flower, but he always associated her with the flowers. The first time he looked on her Instagram, the emoji in her bio stood out to him immediately.

He had accidentally admitted this fact to the old lady who owned the local florist, but instead of laughing at him, the lady smiled with a twinkle in her eye, muttering something affectionately along the lines of “young love.”

A creak from the door in front of him swiftly took him back to his current situation, and he looked up, his voice catching in his throat for a moment. In front of him was a flustered Y/N, and Will truly felt like the luckiest person in the world.

“Hi!” the girl squeaked out enthusiastically. "Sorry, I took a little longer than you probably expected; I couldn't find my key,” she explained, looking slightly guilty.

“It’s no problem; genuinely, I would’ve waited hours if you needed me to.” Will spoke sweetly. Y/N took it as a dramatic use of hyperbole, but in the boy’s mind, he was speaking nothing but the truth. “These are for you,” he added, handing the bouquet of tulips to the girl. “I didn't know which flowers you liked, but, uh, these reminded me of you.”

“They're gorgeous! And... pink tulips are actually my favorite; you must be psychic.” or maybe he just looked at her Instagram too many times—the same difference, really. Y/N was sure that her heart rate was about 1000 beats per minute, but she calmed herself down with some deep breaths.

“Could I?” She gestured her head between the flowers and the hallway she had just appeared from, asking if she could go and put the flowers back in her dorm, and Will nodded, silently sighing in relief at a moment to get himself together.

After a few minutes, Y/N got back, and Will offered his arm for her to take. She did as prompted, and he led her onward. The first part of his plan was in motion; phew, now all he had to do was not mess up the date or the whole part where he was going to ask Y/N to be his girlfriend.

Unfortunately, part of the plan had Will relying on his friends. Yes, he trusted them, but he still anxiously awaited what he was going to be presented with when they arrived at the park.

He had spent all morning preparing a picnic basket of foods for their date; he’d even taken a trip to a store to buy a wicker basket and a red check blanket to fully complete the aesthetic.

Yet, he was (thankfully) pleasantly surprised when, as he brought the girl through the park, his picnic was perfectly set out for their date. He’d need to remember to thank the boys later. Will looked at Y/N, nervous for her reaction, to see what could only be described as pure joy painted across her expression.

“Will! This is so cute,” she let out a squeal of awe. “You didn't have to; oh my gosh, this is so cute.” She promptly wrapped her arms around the boy, kissing him on the cheek in excitement. His cheeks lit up at this, because while she’d kissed him on the cheek before, it never stopped feeling like the first.

They sat together in the afternoon sun, engaged in conversations about many topics ranging from hockey to Taylor Swift, but somehow, the topic of Dear Evan Hansen had not come up yet, which Will sort of wanted it to, so he could approach what he’d been waiting to say for a long while now.

“And then the show's tonight, and like Ms. Laynor said, we could have a few hours to ourselves before we had to get ready for the opening, right? But she never specified what time we needed to be at the theater, so I just thought four hours before was good, you know. Arrive at 4 p.m. in time for the show at 8, perfect!” Y/N ranted on slightly, but Will listened intently, nodding in agreement with her decision.

“Yeah, I think four hours is good, and if she needs you before then she can always message you.” Will reassured the girl, his eyes twinkling affectionately at the passion she held for the theater. Just seeing the smile that graced her face made the boy know this was it—this was the time he was going to do it. He wasn't sure why he knew, but the moment felt right. He took a deep breath before speaking.

“There's really nothing like your smile; have I ever told you that? It's sort of subtle, but real, and it's perfect." Will started; he had a habit of talking with his hands, and as he spoke, it was highlighted. “And I don't think you know how amazing seeing your smile can make someone feel—can make me feel!”

Y/N watched him talk, stunned and speechless as Will confessed what he had never had the guts to speak out loud before. “And I know that when you're bored in class, you start doodling in the margin of your books, and I noticed that you annotate your books with a pen when you see something you like.”

Admitting this took bravery, but honestly speaking, the boy still hadn't come to terms with the fact that this was actually real.

“But I’ve kept it all inside; I haven't said it to you. I’ve wanted to, seriously, but I couldn't seem to talk to you about it; I couldn't find a way, and I didn't know if we were on the same page because sometimes it feels like we're a million worlds apart, so it was like, where am I meant to start? And how do I say it?"

He took a long breath before he said the most important part, “I love you.”

That was it; he’d done it; he’d said it. There was no taking it back now. He felt close to exploding as he looked directly into her eyes for the first time since he’d started talking. Y/N looked close to crying. Will could only hope that was positive, but the demons in his head only told him of the rejection that was coming.

“Will. I don't know what to say. He braced himself for the harsh reality check he feared was building. “That's the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. Wow. I love you too, seriously.”

He deflated, “I get it,” before his mind fully comprehended what he’d just heard. “Wait, what?” His previously crestfallen body language perked up instantly. Did she seriously say what he thought she had? Surely he had to be dreaming, and resisting the urge to pinch himself to check was becoming increasingly difficult.

“I love you too,” she smiled. “And I think if I hadn't already been, the fact you just quoted Dear Evan Hansen to tell me how you felt would've made me fall in love on the spot.” She said it meaningfully; his words had been quotes from a song, yet somehow, everything he said felt raw and honest, like he had written the song about her.

With the realization of what he’d done, Will groaned inwardly, “Fuck, there's no way I plagiarized my confession of love from Dear Evan Hansen. I’m so embarrassing.” He knew the words had been too smooth to be completely his own, but of all the things he had to quote from, It was the musical his girlfriend was going to perform in a few hours.

“What? No, you aren't! You genuinely don't know how much it means. You spent so much time helping me rehearse for the performance when you didn't have to, when we weren't boyfriend and girlfriend, but you did anyway. And you memorized the lyrics, and now you're quoting the songs when you tell me you love me.”

Y/N looked at him with an expression of pure adoration and said, “You're not embarrassing at all; you're just possibly the sweetest person I’ve ever met.”

“I never meant it in a bad way that it was quotes from there. I mean, you changed it so it would fit me; that's just about the most thoughtful thing in the history of things. It was personal, to me and to us; that's what matters.” and she was extremely serious when she said that.

The idea that someone she'd fallen in love with cared at all about her passions meant everything, and then for the love to be requited felt like a million years of joy all at once. The boy felt the same, along with a major sense of relief and, well, a hint of lingering embarrassment.

“I’m glad, wow. I’ve been waiting so long to finally tell you this. I can't even believe it's just happened and that you actually like me back, and all the rejection scenarios I imagined were stupid.” He was cut off by the pressing of a kiss on his lips.

“Shut up,” she mumbled affectionately against his lips, smiling slightly into the kiss. Any of their previous fluttering, drunk kisses were forgotten at this moment; the passion after months of mutual pining solidified this as the first kiss, not just for them as a couple but for them as people too.

They continued for a few seconds before both of them lay down on the blanket, somewhat starstruck, letting the situation completely settle in their minds. It was a comfortable silence as they replayed the moment in their heads like a film reel.

It had gotten to 4 p.m. and Y/N had left for the theater. Will spent the time he had between then and the show in a few hours processing everything that had gone down. It honestly shocked him that he’d ever followed through with the plan to begin with.

Fast forward to the performance. Will sat in one of the closest rows to the stage, excited to watch Y/N perform a project she’d been working on for so long. Personally, he was extremely impressed; the entire cast had worked their asses off, and it was definitely worth it.

While Will had listened to the soundtrack, he’d never seen the full musical performed, and seeing it there was something special, especially knowing how much it meant to the people on stage. As the production came to an end and the cast performed their curtain call, the audience gave them a standing ovation.

Y/N, as the title character, got her own turn to bow and take in the true feeling of the audience clapping for you and cheering for you. The feeling was indescribable, but at that time she felt on top of the world, lost in the moment, at a peak in her life.

She was grinning ear to ear as she met the eyes of Will in the crowd, and this somehow prompted the hockey player to shout, “That’s my girlfriend!” at the top of his lungs.

Needless to say, he was extremely embarrassed that he'd said that out loud, but it got his point across in a pretty public way, no doubt about that. Y/N laughed slightly before the rest of the cast joined back into a line with her, taking their final bows as the curtain closed, the show ending.

a/n :: thank you for reading!! the formatting ended up a bit weird and i had to reupload this bc tumblr decided to bully me and not submit this to tags... but hopefully it works now and i hope you enjoyed :3

#mira⌇🌷 #will smith #will smith hockey #will smith x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fanfic #nhl fic #hockey #san jose sharks #boston college #boston college hockey

[bitchinbarzal]

Soon to be bride | T Zegras

summary: when you meet again, you’re about to get married.

-

Every summer Trevor returned to Boston for a couple weeks, always missing the place he had gone to college.

They’d go out partying just like he had in the dorms all those years before.

You’d landed at paradise rock with your bridesmaids, all making a fool of yourselves with the tacky veils, the inflatable penises and ‘future wife’ glasses on.

Trevor spotted you from across the bar, watching with a smirk as you leaned across the bar and shouted your order to the bartender.

“Hey isn’t that Y/N?” Jake asks, nudging Trevor and pointing to you.

Trevor cocks his head to the side, studying your face before he realises it is you.

“Oh, it is! Damn I haven’t seen her since college! She’s getting married?”

He left his seat and waded through the crowd until he got to you, his hand flat on your lower back while he leaned forward to whisper in your ear

“Long time no see”

You spin around with wide eyes “Zegras!” And throw your arms around his neck to hug him.

He holds you tightly with a slight sway between you both, something similar to how the two of you used to hold one another in your dorm rooms back in college.

When you finally pull away he smiles and looks you up and down “So… a wifey huh?”

You blush, doing a little spin for him “Uh-huh! You remember Lucas from our management class?”

Trevor doesn’t. He never paid attention to the class nevermind anyone in it. He nods anyway.

“Yeah! Congrats!” Once again his eyes rake over your body “You look good”

You smirk and shove him playfully “Mr Zegras I am a taken woman”

“Never stopped us before” Is all he says before the bartender interrupts by handing your drink, you don’t get the chance to give him the cash before Trevor shouts over the music

“Just put her stuff on my tab!”

You smiled and kissed his cheek before mumbling “Thanks T, you’re the best” before heading back to your party.

Trevor’s eyes didn’t leave you for the entirety of the night, ignoring all female attention just to watch you.

He watched you shake your hips, dancing on your friends and downing shots after shots. His eyes hung over the edge of your white mini dress, how your boobs hung out over the top slightly — leaving his mind to make up the rest of the image and how the dress rode up to reveal the bottom of your ass.

At some point your groups had merged, everyone mingling with one another.

You and Trevor had found your way back to one another, now sat awfully close in the booth chatting away.

You asked him about Anaheim and how hockey was going and he tried desperately to avoid talking about your future husband.

You hadn’t noticed his hand on you thigh or how he squeezed it when he made you laugh, not until it had ridden up your thigh so high that any further you’d get kicked out for indecency.

“So when’s the wedding?” He asks, biting the bullet.

“The day after tomorrow” You answer, sipping your vodka. You didn’t miss the look that dawned over his face.

It takes him a moment to compose himself before he leans in, really close and whispers “does he make you feel like I did?”

You’re taken a back, clenching your thighs at the raspiness of his voice. When you don’t answer he raises his eyebrow as you prompt you to answer and you shake your head almost with a whimper before saying

“Nobody can” and turning to get out of the booth and away from Trevor.

He watches with a slightly ajar mouth as you strut away to the bathroom. It takes him a moment before he pushes his way out of the booth too, scurrying behind you.

He catches you in the hallway, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back. You make a noise of surprise as he pushes your back up against the wall, his lips are on yours and he’s kissing you.

Your hand grabs his hair and you’re trying to push him closer to you, as if that was humanly possible. He finally pulls away and you’re both breathless.

“I’m getting married T” You sigh, pushing him away from you with no success “Y/N… you kissed me back, do you really want to be with this guy?”

You shake your head, slipping out of his hold “This is wrong and I’m such a horrible - oh god Trevor what have we done!”

He doesn’t get the chance to respond before you’re taking off down the corridor out of the bar.

He’s left staring at the floor and mutters “And I let her go… again”

By the time he’d gotten back to the table your friends had all disappeared leaving only his friends sitting looking at him waiting for him to say something

“What did you do?” Jake asks and Trevor just sighs, taking the nearest drink and sipping

“I fucked it up with her… again”

“Are you gonna go find her?”

Trevor thinks for a moment before he says “Nah, I’m never gonna see her again. I think this was it for good”

He thought he’d never see you again until you showed up at his Airbnb, dressed in your wedding dress with mascara dripping down your cheeks.

“I couldn’t do it, I can’t marry him! I want-“

Trevor pulls you into his arms and hushes you “I know babe, I’ve got you now and I’m not letting go again”

#trevor zegras imagine #Trevor zegras x reader #nhl imagine

[livwritesstuff]

So you know how parents always have that *one* story about a time where their kid scared them beyond this universe — like their kid could be a daredevil and constantly trying their patience but this particular story is the most harrowing, scariest situation they’ve been in. (This may not be universal but I’m hoping I’m explaining it right lol)

What do you think would be Steve and Ed’s stories for each of the girls?

tw: hospitals, illness, car accidents, in general proceed w/caution if sensitive to children sustaining injuries/illnesses

When Moe was about six months old, she got sick – really sick, hospital-trip sick. All Steve really remembers is that one minute her appetite wasn’t what it usually was, and the next her temperature had spiked to 104 and something about her breathing was not normal and they were on their way to the ER.

They'd ended up staying for three days, Steve didn't sleep the entire time, and because it was before Moe's adoption was finalized, they had all kinds of DFS paperwork to fill out in addition to the mountain of documents the hospital had given them. Steve remembers having to coordinate with Ed dropping everything off at the DFS office and thinking for the first time ever in their years of fostering kids how stupid it was that he was expected to focus on following DFS procedure instead of being there for his baby girl.

The scariest moment with Hazel was the time they lost her.

They’d been at the New England Aquarium with all three girls on a Saturday afternoon – ridiculous, in both Steve and Eddie's opinion, and honestly they weren't even able to enjoy outings like these because they’re still in the stage where they spend the entire time anxiously keeping track of the girls (who were having the time of their lives, obviously – that's why they're suffering through it).

So when Steve did a headcount like he usually does every so often and came up with two, his heart flipped over. He checked again, and again only counted two. 

Triple-checks. Two.

In real-time, they hadn't lost sight of Hazel for more than ten seconds, but it was the longest ten seconds Steve had ever lived by a mile, and he’d spent the whole time thinking that it had to be the worst-case for a situation like this because it was Hazel. If Moe or Robbie got separated from them, they would have no problem marching up to the first person in an NEA shirt they could find and demanding help finding their dads. Hazel, though, is quiet and shy and usually stuck to them like glue. She won’t talk to strangers in the best of moments, so there was no chance she’d find it in herself to try during a bad one.

Turns out, Hazel had been so mesmerized by the jellyfish that even after they all moved on to the next display, Hazel just had to turn back to get one more look, and Eddie had his head screwed on tight enough that day to think of checking there first.

Later, Steve reneged on their plan to take the girls to Boston Pride (which would have been in a few weeks) because it had been scary enough losing track of Hazel in an enclosed space where there were only so many places she could wander off to. The idea of it happening in the dead center of the city, with all those crowds of people, with infinite directions for her to go…no chance. They’d try again next year.

Between all three girls, the scariest moment by goddamn lightyears was Robbie.

When Robbie was fifteen – a high school freshman but placed in the senior-level band class – the school took their music classes (band, orchestra, chorus) to Disney World for the performing arts workshops they offer in the spring.

The student-adult ratio on trips like these is pretty terrible and, in Steve's opinion, there is too much unsupervised independent time for a group of high school students.

Way too much.

A few days into the trip, one kid – a senior with a fake ID who Robbie was friends with through band – managed to commandeer a car and convince a group of kids to blow off curfew and secretly explore the city.

Three hours and half a liquor-store’s worth of alcohol later, Steve got a call from one of the chaperones telling him that his fifteen-year-old was unresponsive in a hospital in Florida.

Planning their last family vacation had taken three entire months of planning and indecision and research.

It took less than five minutes for Steve to get flights booked for the next plane bound for Orlando.

“Maybe if she hadn’t gone on the trip in the first place…” Moe trailed off innocently as she watched her dads pack – she's anything but innocent though. Moe had been pissed to all hell that Robbie got to go to Disney World and she didn’t. She’d spent weeks trying to weasel her way onto the trip to no avail, and she’d been sulking the entire four days Robbie had been gone.

“Not another word,” Eddie warned her, his tone icier than perhaps he’s ever heard directed at one of his kids. Moe opens her mouth to retort, but he cuts her off, "So fuckin' serious, Moe. Not the time."

Robbie had been in pretty rough shape when they finally arrived which was horrible to see – especially for Steve, who had always connected the way Robbie was similar to Eddie with the way Eddie almost died, so seeing her unconscious in a hospital bed, light brown curls strewn out over the sterile-white sheets and tangled amongst all kinds of tubes and wires was pretty much a nightmare come to life.

He was actually thankful for Eddie’s threats to find the idiot driving the car and murder him because he seemed pretty serious about it and making sure he didn't do that gave Steve something to focus on other than counting the hours Robbie had been in the hospital all alone.

#not a happy one folks #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson #tw: illness #tw: car accident #tw: hospital

[totallyunbiasedspnpolls]

BEST NEEDLE DROP IN SPN (PT.2)

This will probably be our toughest triad of polls KNOWN TO THE SPN FANDOM. (In our humble opinion, at any rate.) Firstly: what is a needle drop? For the purposes of these polls, a needle drop is an instance of music licensing, or music not written for (but brilliantly used in) the show. There were bunches, but we narrowed it down to our top 30, divided at random into groups of 10. The three winners of these polls will then compete for the A-1, first place, bestest needle drop in hit cult series, Supernatural. Hold onto your headphones, fandom, and LET'S GET VOTING!

NOTE: We didn't include 'Carry On Wayward Son', because come on, that just wouldn't be fair. Oh, and we used the original show selections, not whatever transpired via Netflix.

Part 1 Part3

#totally unbiased spn polls #spn polls #supernatural #the music of spn

[abbysleftbicepp]

What Did I Ever Do To You?

A post outbreak day abby x fem!reader fic.

Warnings: Violence (if you squint), slight angst, some fluff, not proofread, I’m new to this so lmk if there is more that I can’t think of!!

Part 1

“Why did Isaac have to put me on this patrol?” You groaned under your breath as you reloaded her gun, and taking out another scar.

Truth be told, You never liked going on patrols to kill non-fungal people. You hated having to be at war with the scars. You’d rather be killing off infected, or doing other jobs at the settlement like looking after the cattle. You’d also often help out in the nursery, sharing your knowledge in the preschool rooms and telling stories to the older kids.

“Is that all of them?” Manny asked, trying to get his breathing steady again.

“Yeah I think so.” Abby sighed in relief. You could finally return after a long day of fighting scars who got too close to the settlement. Just as Abby finished speaking, a truck pulled up as if it were answering their wishes of not wanting to hike all the way back.

“I call shotgun!” Manny yelled out.

“You always get shotgun.” You rolled your eyes as you hopped into the back, letting Alice and Abby on.

“That’s a good girl.” You petted Alice as Jordan drove off.

There was an awkward silence between you and Abby. There was always tension in the air when you were together. You never even knew why.

“You did good out there. I’m surprised you could hold your own so well when you’re never out on these kind of runs.” Abby spoke up.

“Uhh…that sounded very back handed, but I’ll take it. Thank you.” You responded. The silence returned in the back of the truck, enveloping everyone.

“Did you hear what food they have in the canteen today? I’m starved.” You spoke up, trying to fill the silence that was taking over the truck.

“Uhm..I think it was potato and leek soup.” Abby responded dryly, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Thanks.” You finished, ending their short conversation. The rest of the ride home was quite peaceful. The sun was setting in the sky, creating beautiful orange and pink hues in the clouds. Alice had fallen asleep on the truck floor, she had quite an eventful day.

The air was warm, with a slight breeze contrasting to the cozy atmosphere. There were flowers starting to bloom in the grass, you could tell it was the end of spring.

————————————————————

Sitting in yours and Nora’s shared room, You listened to your favourite song through your Walkman. This hour was the one hour of solitude you got a day, and she liked to spend it with her eyes closed, listening to the calm music as she allowed her mind to wander.

“Hey Y/n, I’m gonna head out. Issac is wanting me to pull a shift for Mel.” Nora yelled before leaving the room, leaving you completely alone.

Your mind drifted to memories that you tried to push away. Your memories from back in Boston.

~flashback~

“Ellie! Riley! Wait up!!” You yelled as you followed them down a street to your shared hideout. You three had found a house that no one was using, and never got checked by Fedra. You all decorated the place and made it feel cosy. It became your safe space, a place to escape for a while.

When you finally arrived, Ellie and Riley were in a heated argument.

“Fuck you Ellie! I don’t wanna see you ever again.” Riley announced before storming out the door.

“What just happened? Are you okay Ellie?” You asked, worried for your friends. Ellie broke down crying as you wrapped your arms around her.

“Shh it’s okay..I’m right here..” you spoke, trying to soothe Ellie.

A month and a few weeks had passed, and Riley never returned. For all you knew, she was dead. So that’s what you assumed.

~End of flashback~

Suddenly, you felt someone tap you on your shoulder, waking you from your sleep.

“Huh? What time is it..?” You asked, rubbing your eyes as you sat up.

“It’s 8pm. Manny wants to have a movie night in his room, the whole groups already there but he insisted on me coming to grab you.” Leah responded. “Go get some slippers on and meet us in his room.” She finished before leaving.

You let out a groan, you didn’t want to be rudely awakened nor go to see a movie in Manny’s room. That was mainly because Manny shared a room with Abby, and you didn’t want to cross paths with Abby whenever wasn’t necessary.

Once you got your hoodie and slippers on, you grabbed your keys and dragged yourself out the door.

When you arrived you knocked faintly on the door, hoping that no one would hear it. Your hopes were soon crushed when Jordan opened the door.

“Ah you took your time, come on in.” He said, welcoming you into Manny and Abby’s room. When you walked in, everyone greeted you, everyone except Abby.

Sitting down next to Nora, you spoke up. “What are we watching then?”

“We are watching Spider-man 3.” Manny answered, putting popcorn on the coffee table before sitting down himself and pressing play.

You nodded, as you tried to focus on the tv. However, you could feel someone staring holes into your soul. You turned to look at who was looking at you, and you caught Abby looking away.

“Sly.” You thought to herself.

After the movie ended, Leah, Jordan and Nora all decided that they were too tired for another film. Manny insisted on you staying for another one, so you decided on staying. You probably wouldn’t be able to fall back to sleep either way.

Manny put on Pirates of the Caribbean: At Worlds End, as he knew that both Abby and you had a mutual liking to the film.

After half an hour, manny got a text from one of his side chicks. “Girls, I’m afraid I’ve gotta head out. I got a hookup.” He said before rushing out the door. Now it was just you and Abby, and the tension was swallowing them whole.

When the movie finished, the tension in the room only grew. You wanted to leave and go back to your safe place, but you knew that Abby would watch your every move, and that scared you. Confidence bubbled up inside you, begging to be let out, so you spoke up;

“What did I ever do to you?” You asked looking at your hands.

“What?” Abby retorted.

“For years all you’ve done is shut me out. All I’ve been trying to do is show you kindness, show I’m worthy of your friendship but you feel disgusted to be in the same room as me.” You wanted to stop speaking, but the words would not stop spilling from your usually quiet mouth.

“I’m tired of trying to show my worth to you. I’m tired of trying to be good enough for you, when all you want is to be as far away as possible.” You continued. Abby sat there quietly.

“You tell me that you don’t have time for friends, but that’s just bullshit because we’re both in the same friend group and your kind enough to them…so why not to me?” You finally looked up, with hurt eyes. For only a split second, Abby faltered. The mask slipped for a second as she saw the pain she was causing in your eyes. You look at her with a shaky breath, seeking information that you’ve needed for a long time, but Abby never spoke. She just sat there, looking at you with shock.

You let out a short laugh, trying to take away from the tension, before walking to the door.

“Fuck you Abby.” You said as you stormed out, heading to your room.

————————————————————

COME BACK FOR PART TWO!!! Lmk if you wanna be tagged

Taglist:

@toothgapedlesbo @littlegingerperson2 @paqerings

#abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #post outbreak abby #fanfiction #ellie williams #Riley #flashbacks #what did I ever do to you #abbysleftbicep #enemies to lovers

[thislovintime]

Photo 1 from the Reelin’ In The Years Photo Archive, photographer unnamed; photo 3 by Ken McKay/Shutterstock.

Remembering Michael and Davy on their birthdays.

“The man was unique and a huge, huge talent. We’re not going to replace him. […] [Davy] was such a little heartthrob. I don’t think people knew how bright and talented and gifted he was in all things. I’ve come to believe he was, in his own way, the smartest, most musically talented and best actor among us.” - Peter Tork, Boston Globe, May 16, 2013

“Mike and I have been back and forth with the emails […] I bore him no ill-will. I have a lot of respect and admiration and some affection for Mike. And I’m glad to be back in touch with him.” - Peter Tork, interview with Iain Lee, 2012

Q: “I’m curious about the various reunions that happened over the years. Is it safe to say that you guys were never really friends?” Peter Tork: “Oh, I don’t know. I would say I was pretty good friends with Micky, and there was a lot of love between me and Davy. I have a lot of respect for Mike Nesmith and we’ve structured ways to work together. Things rotate. It’s like having a basketball team. You know, gosh, it’s like having a championship basketball team. They go on the road every so often and do tours, you know, just exhibition tours but fortunately your music skills don’t deteriorate as fast as your basketball skills do, but I wouldn’t know what else to compare it to. We had a chance to go out together and we took it, and we had a great time, and if we were not friends at all we would not have been able to do it. We played tours months and months long: ‘86, ‘87, ‘89, ‘91, ‘92, ‘96, ‘97, 2001, 2002 and 2011, so we couldn’t have been such enemies.” - Phawker, circa 2012; re-published 2019

“[Micky] and Mike and I have a very cordial relationship and share a lot of common topics. We go to lunch together when we’re all in town and have a good time. I love and respect each of these guys in their own way, although the real joys that I shared with Davy were special. At one point we had some good hard connections but as the years rolled on, those things faded away. But I am sorry to see Davy go. He was the one member in the group that I had the strongest human connection with. I still have two guys that I love and respect left from the band, but we share a different dynamic.” - Peter Tork, Review Mag, May 27, 2016

“Well, I’ve never been really close with Michael [Nesmith] for some reason. You know, I have a lot of respect for him and admiration. But somehow we’ve never integrated. We’ve never been warm with each other. We worked together and did pretty well at it really. But Micky on the other hand, I enjoy hugely. We have some very good times together. We laugh a lot. We pay attention to what each other is doing on stage and so there’s communication there. Micky’s always been a lot of fun. Who I miss is Davy of course. Davy is the guy who…I’ve always said I loved, liked and respected [the band members] in different proportions but Davy actually kinda got my heart.” - Peter Tork, Clevescene, March 13, 2017

#Michael Nesmith #Davy Jones #Peter Tork #Tork quotes #The Monkees #Monkees #Peter and Michael #Peter and Davy #Head (1968) #long read #Micky Dolenz #Peter and Micky #Capricorn and Jones birthday remembrance #Happy Capricorn and Jones Day #can you queue it

[atombombkaytee]

My Echo, My Shadow and Me

Summary: Hancock and I retire to The Third Rail after a long day to find that it’s particularly busy. Still, we manage to find a quiet spot to indulge in heavy flirting, booze and chems. However, I notice a shadowy figure across the room - somehow, neither Hancock or I recognise the stranger (another ghoul). Hancock is keen to introduce himself but the sheer amount of intoxicants we’ve consumed could have the potential to lead to a very interesting evening.

Pairings: Hancock x Female OC/Reader, Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x Female OC/Reader

Warnings: (This first part is largely PG but we will see - in future parts - all of the following) Heavy alcohol/drug use, public groping, smut, MMF threesome, anal.

Part 1.

Occasionally, The Third Rail became so lively that you could easily delude yourself into believing that the bombs had never plummeted from the skies all those years ago. It is only when you're completely sober that you can discern that virtually every person in the vicinity disfigured by the enduring effects of radiation.

Nevertheless, the bustling crowds of sweaty bodies (dancing, laughing, and clinking their glasses without a care in the world) were surely reminiscent of what it was like pre-war. I couldn’t be sure. I was born into this shithole of a world. What would I know about living pre-bombs?  

I grunt a sarcastic chuckle into my pint glass, fogging the edges with my breath. I'm sure it was warmer in pre-war bars than it is here. Being underground in an old railway tunnel helps retain some heat, but there's a subtle yet constant breeze coming from somewhere.

Still, the alcohol helps. As do the masses of bodies. Alcohol helps with a lot of things. Even now, many still use it as a respite from the horrors of daily life. A beautiful dissociative escape, where the only thing that matters is the moment.

Unfortunately, I'm the only sober one tonight. Well, almost. I’ve managed to get one mixer deep, tucked in tight against the bar, waiting for Hancock to join me for a celebration. Today ended much later than we anticipated when a large group of Supermutants seeking revolution entered Boston Common. We dealt with them, of course, but it significantly cut into our relaxation time - something both Hancock and I equally hated. 

The dancing crowd swells behind me, swaying in time to Magnolia’s silky voice. Occasionally, someone brushes against my back. I'm desperate to feel more drunk. I tend to get irritable far more quickly when I'm sober, much like Hancock... maybe that's one of the reasons we've always gotten along. Feeling overstimulated, I swill back the ends of my glass and signal Charlie for another.

Lucky for me, no human could possibly serve booze as fast as that robot. It’s mere seconds before another full pint glass is in my hand and I greedily neck it back. I smile to myself, sensing the warmth in my belly spread into a pleasant haziness behind my eyes. These quadruple shots are certainly doing the trick.

An immense wave of gratitude washes over me as I perceive a hand between my shoulder blades. It unmistakably belongs to someone familiar, amidst the numerous inebriated strangers who have been using me as a prop for the last thirty minutes.

“Hey, dollface… how you holding up?”

He angles his head downwards, drawing himself nearer to me, enabling me to still take in his words amongst the competing sounds of music. In response, I offer a smile, albeit tinged with irony, and he promptly detects the subtle distress reflected in my eyes.

“Oh… well, why the hell are you sitting up here then?”  

With a light-hearted chuckle, he shifts his focus from me to locate Charlie. His hand instinctively wraps around the nape of my neck and delivers a playful squeeze, firm enough to hurt, yet, ultimately, conveying a sense of comfort and protection.

“Charlie - do this ol’ ghoul a favor and hand me that great, big bottle of whiskey - oh - and two glasses, if you’d be so kind?”

I can't help but watch him adoringly as he swoops in to solve all of my problems, like always. I've only spent a little over four months working alongside him, but I'm pretty sure that I'm falling for him. He's courageous yet gentle, sweet yet just, violent yet empathetic. I've come to realize that he's a very intricate person... well, ghoul. And, boy, does he know how to make me feel good.

Ignoring our rather large age gap - human/ghoul relationships aren’t uncommon in the wasteland, although they are generally disapproved of in most settlements. Except here. Here, in Goodneighbor, things are different. Here, Hancock and I can openly celebrate our relationship and relax in public without any judgment. As the Mayor, Hancock receives special privileges that he graciously extends to me. Moreover, the majority of the residents in Goodneighbor are ghouls themselves, and those who are human are generally open-minded outcasts who have found a welcoming home here. It's an ideal situation.

“Follow me…” He murmurs intimately next to my ear. With his palm placed reassuringly on the small of my back, he guides me smoothly through the mass of people - most of whom acknowledge their mayor with a rowdy toast of their glasses.

Once we’re out of the thickest part of the crowd, he grabs hold of my hand and leads me to a dimly lit table for two at the very back of the room. Both the noise level and the number of people are much more bearable here. I plonk myself down on the torn couch - enjoying the coolness of the leather seat against the back of my tired thighs.

“Jesus… thanks for rescuing me, yet again…” I snigger, holding my glass in place while Hancock pours a generous serving of whiskey. The liquid fills the vessel with a rich, golden hue.

“Why the hell is it so busy in here tonight!?”

Hancock puts the whiskey bottle back on the metal table between us with a thud, causing several small white flecks of paint to flutter to the ground. He leans back comfortably against the sofa, draping his spare arm around my shoulder while he surveys the room.

“You tell me, sunshine! Could be since we cleared up those raider gangs last week? Could just be a few more people traveling through.”  

His black eyes glisten and gleam like polished onyx under the sporadic beams of the spotlights that intermittently flash across his face. The aura of pride he exudes is palpable, adding even more charm to his demeanor. Seeking refuge in his presence, I nuzzle closer to the comforting warmth emanating from his body, finding solace as I press my cheek against his faded scarlet duster coat. Meanwhile, I continue to take measured sips from my glass of whiskey, relishing its smooth taste.

The mist brought on by alcohol is steadily encroaching upon my senses. I have firm intentions of becoming extremely drunk, and with Hancock already pouring himself another drink, it seems obvious that he shares that inclination.

(Part 2)

(Part 3)

(Part 4)

#fallout #post apocalyptic #cooper howard #ghoul #fanfiction #fanfic #ghoul fucker #ghouls #hancock #John Hancock #hancock fo4 #fo4 #original character #reader pairing #the ghoul #monster fucker #fallout fanfic #crossover #bethesda #the third rail #Goodneighbor #Chems #fallout 4 #fallout amazon

[toasttt11]

the four musketeers

Kensington Hughes, Will Smith, Ryan Leonard, and Gabe Perreault

At least once a night at week, The four always have a movie night together even though they usually end up just watching sports, when they all get to Boston they always go to Kensington apartment for their movie nights and the boys usually end up sleeping on the couch or the guest room.

Whenever they are on the bus or plane together Kensington, Will, Gabe and Ryan always sit in one row, two on one side and two on the other side.

They always try to go spend some time at the rink outside of practice or games just the four of them. A lot of the times they will bring a football or soccer ball and just mess around and have fun on the ice to just forgot about everything and make sure to always remember the love and fun they have for the sport.

They are all very competitive and everything is always something that enjoy turing into a competition from board games to hundred of ping pong games.

Ryan and Will have every class together and Kensington and Gabe have four of the five classes with them too, and then Gabe is taking a french class and Kensington has her musical arts class. The four all share theater class and Kensington finds it hilarious sharing the class with the three.

The four end up finding they love chilling in the student hockey lounge after class and before practice, and most of the time Kensington always sit on the couch and Will next to her and she will end up taking like an hour nap, and Will will let her use him as a pillow as Gabe and Ryan goof around with someone on the team.

Ryan and Gabe are waiting for the day that Kensington and Will stop being obviously and noticed their feelings for each other and finally get together.

Will is definitely the best cook out of all four of them, Ryan is alright but it is not always edible, Gabe is a disaster in the kitchen and something is always burnt, Kensington is a good cook but hates cooking so she would rather be Will’s taste tester.

Ryan and Gabe always have to end up dragging Kensington and Will away from animals that catch their attentions because the two could sit for hours petting animals.

Kensington is a very big Taylor swift fan and has gotten all of the boys addicted to her as well, she did drag all three of them to the concert with her. The four did scream all night long to her songs.

Will committed to Boston Collage first and quickly after Ryan announced his commitment to Boston Collage as well. Kensington and Gabe had still haven’t made a decision with all the schools they were accepted too, they decided to go take a tour of a few different schools and they immediately both knew when they toured Boston College that they would be choosing that one.

Ryan had found a small part of the library that no one is ever in and it’s almost likes its own little room with the way the bookshelves are around the couches so if they aren’t studying in Kensington’s apartment the four are all sat around the two couches and the one table.

Kensington has taught all the boys how to play at least one instrument and Ryan is always saying if they fail at hockey they can just become a band.

Ryan, Gabe and Will have all gotten in fights to defend Kensington, Ryan usally is more so the one that fights for her but Gabe and Will have many times. Kensington is pretty difficult to get her to snap and actually fight but the very very few times she had it was defending one of her boys.

Kensington, Gabe and Will all love Ryan’s girlfriend and quickly approved of her when they saw how in love Ryan and Julianna are. Kensington loves having another girl around and Julianna really enjoys seeing a different side of her boyfriend around his best friends.

They have done group costumes for halloween for a few years now, the most recent one was Kensington as Rapunzel, Will as Flynn, Gabe as Pascal and Ryan as Maximus.

When they played in the program for two years, Gabe lived at Kensington’s house for two years and Will and Ryan stayed together for two years.

Will plays with the number 2, Gabe plays with the number 4, Kensington plays with the number 3 and Ryan plays with the number 9.

#kensingtongracehughesau #kh3 #jack hughes x reader #nhl x reader #jack hughes #jh86 #luke hughes #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #will smith hockey x reader #will smith hockey #gabe perreault #ryan leonard #pittsburgh penguins #sidney crosby #sidney crosby x reader #boston college

[bumblesimagines]

Our Flickering Light

Request: Yes or No

Content Warnings: Violence, Death, Big Age Gap (about 27 years apart but y/n is well into his adulthood), ANGST, mentions of terminal illnesses, mention/implied loss of pregnancy later on, parental and child death

~~~

There was an eery quietness to the atmosphere in the house. It'd been startling to wake up to silence and stale air instead of music, chatter, or the mouth-watering aroma of breakfast being cooked. (Y/N) remained in bed longer than usual, gazing up at the tall ceiling of his bedroom with an emptiness that burnt a hole in his chest. He felt unusually numb, unusually cold. The tears had long dried on his pillowcase during the night and no matter how much his whole being ached, his eyes refused to water. He knew the feeling all too well. An experience he'd live over and over again until he died. 

He needed to get up. He needed to tend to them, to ensure they'd be buried. To ensure the house would only hold the sweet memories filled with laughter and joy rather than the stench of death and the salt of tears.

He forced himself into a sitting position and swung his heavy legs over the side of the bed, tossing aside the comforter and blankets. His feet met the cold floor and it reminded him he was still alive and breathing. They wouldn't want him to mope and weep over them, not while he was still young and well. His head reeled and he released a heavy sigh, raising his bowed head to gaze out the window. He could see the spot where they first encountered the secured town. Where they found sanctuary and family.

His mother claimed it was 2007 and likely October or November. The once scorching heat had been long replaced by cool air that gently pinched at his cheeks. The formally green leaves had turned into pretty shades of auburn and vibrant red and some had already begun to fall from branches. Soon, it'd be a snowy December and he'd be a year older. The infected would be momentarily slowed down, weighed by the snow and cold. They'd be safe, just for a few months, until summer returned with its unbearable heat. 

Despite the pretty colors, the leaves were dangerous. They covered the forest floor and the pleasing crunch they provided enticed one into stepping on them. They blocked the ground from view and left one oblivious to what lurked beneath. The fungus grew rapidly in nature, and a single root being disturbed could alert a whole pack of infected. (Y/N) remembered the story Frank told them once vividly. He'd been with a group searching for a zone to take them in early into the outbreak when one man unknowingly stepped on a root. In mere minutes, a small pack of infected descended upon them like sharks. Frank recalled the story with a grimace and a saddened gleam in his eyes.

It was why, as they trekked through the unfamiliar forest, Frank remained ahead of them with a long stick in hand to delicately brush the leaves out of their path. Frank was a lanky older man with soft wrinkles beginning to form under his eyes. His mother teased it was because of all the smiling Frank did, and it was true. Frank always seemed to have a smile on his face. During the hardships of their zone when Rose would be refused the medicine she needed because she lacked the rations necessary, Frank would smile and offer her his, even if he'd worked tirelessly for them. When the infected invaded and the zone crumbled, Frank stood by them and demanded the group of survivors escaping to let them go with them, even with a sickly woman and a child. In the end, only the three of them had managed to make it even remotely close to a new zone. 

"Excited for Boston?" Frank asked, the smile ever present on his face when he glanced back at them. 

"It'll be same old same old," Rose muttered in response, her frail hand grasping her son's in the tightest grip she could in her weakened state. (Y/N) shrugged loosely and twisted his lips. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in a bed, even if the mattress was thin enough he could feel it in his back. He crinkled his nose. The FEDRA schools never seemed to care for the comfort of their students, but then again, they never seemed to care for anyone at all. 

A soft gasp from Frank drew his attention and he craned his head around his body, noticing the trees had finally come to a stop. Peering past the treeline, he spotted buildings guarded by a tall wire fence that looked brand new. No dirt, dried blood, or graffiti covered the walls and it made his heart leap. Frank moved forward and crouched down by thick brush, motioning for them to do the same. Rose curled her arm around (Y/N)'s shoulders and pulled him close to her side. 

"It- It looks untouched. Almost feels right out of an old magazine." Frank whispered in a shakey voice. "I can't see a single infected-"

"There's nobody around, Frank. What if it's a trap? A lure? You know how vicious raiders have become these past years." 

"I know, Rose. I know. But we've been without food or water for days. We'll never make it to Boston if we starve first." Frank rebutted gently and gazed at them warmly, stretching an arm out and placing his hand over Rose's shoulder. Rose frowned and exhaled heavily through her nose. 

"What are we gonna do?" (Y/N) asked tentatively and glanced at his grimacing mother with furrowed brows.

"I'll go on first. I'll see if there are people and if it's safe, I'll come back for you two. If Sammy's map was right-" (Y/N) cringed at the mention of Sammy, the self-proclaimed leader of their short-lived group. He'd been the first to go, and the sight of his disfigured face appeared in (Y/N)'s nightmares sometimes. "-this should be the town called Lincoln. Boston is just west of here. If there's any sign of danger-"

"We're not leaving you." (Y/N) interrupted fiercely and drew a chuckle from Frank. He offered the preteen a sad smile and stood up, hand leaving Rose's shoulder to briefly rest on (Y/N)'s head before he walked through the brush and began cautiously making his way toward the fence. He kept his head on a swivel and (Y/N) held his breath, teeth digging into his bottom lip as anxiety crept up the nape of his neck. Frank continued until suddenly, he plummeted into the ground with a shriek and the two hiding in the brush stiffened. 

For a moment, there was nothing. Until a burly, thick-bearded man rounded the corner with a shotgun in hand.

"Mom?" (Y/N) turned to Rose with wide, fearful eyes. The gate beeped and the man stepped out onto the strip of land between the fence and the forest, taking long strides as he approached the trap Frank had fallen into.

"It's alright, sweets. Frank... Frank can take care of himself. He- He knows how to talk himself out of things." The uncertainty in Rose's voice made his stomach flip and he helplessly looked back at the stranger. (Y/N) watched him closely, his throat tightening when the man went rigid and abruptly lifted his shotgun toward the treeline. The young boy couldn't make out the words being exchanged, only seeing the movement of the man's mouth and his hardened features. The man tilted his head upward and squinted through the sunlight.

"Come on out, Rose and (Y/N)! Nice and slowly!" He shouted out and (Y/N) looked back at his mother. She rolled her lips into her mouth and tightened her hold on (Y/N), eyes briefly squeezing shut. Her fingers trembled against (Y/N)'s arm and she slowly rose up, pulling her son along with her and taking hold of his hand again as she stepped through the brush and out into the open. (Y/N) followed her movements and grasped her wrist with his other hand, half hiding behind her body and staring forward at the stranger. 

"S-See! It's just us three!" Frank's echoey voice came from the large gaping hole in the ground. The man's gaze softened for a moment and he grunted, cautiously lowering his shotgun but keeping a tight and steady grip on it. He took a step back and then another, keeping a keen eye on the two until he ultimately decided they weren't a big enough threat and turned around. (Y/N) blinked, a sense of surprise and relief grappling him when the man retrieved a ladder and pushed it down into the hole for Frank. Rose softly sighed, the ladder creaking with each step Frank took. The man neared Frank and slipped out a thick device from his belt, pressed the end of it to Frank's neck.

"Your friend here claims you're ill." The man said and pressed the device to Rose's neck. "With what exactly?"

"Cancer. I... I thought it was gone, but..." 

"Sorry to hear." He murmured and pressed it to (Y/N) next, the slight prick making the boy flinch. The man's lips curled up in amusement for a split second, only to be replaced with the previous stoic yet suspicious expression. "Boston is that way-"

"Please, we're really hungry. Rose needs food. She needs a proper place to rest. If... if you prefer, I-I can stay out here and wait for them to at least get a little bit of food and water. They need it. Please..." Frank interrupted lightly, voice bordering on desperate and the man's eyes flickered between the three of them. 

"If I feed you then every bum you talk to about it is gonna show up here looking for a free lunch, and this is not an Arby's."

Frank's brows knitted. "Arby's didn't have free lunch. It was a restaurant."

"Frank."

"Sorry. We promise we won't talk about it to any bums, hobos, or vagabonds. Just- just please, feed them. The boy is only thirteen and Rose deserves at least a minute of rest. We'll take the smallest portion of food you can offer and we'll be on our way." Frank pleaded again. (Y/N) dropped his gaze onto the pale grass beneath his worn boots and waited to hear the incoming rejection. The man remained silent for a little while longer.

"Fine. Come with me."

The stairs groaned and squeaked when he descended them, a sound that'd grown familiar over the years. His eyes jumped into the room beside the stairs and he paused for a beat to gaze at the lonesome piano. Faintly, in his memories, he could hear it being played. Frank loved playing it, drumming his fingers along the keys, even if the sound that emitted from the old wooden instrument and his singing voice sounded terrible. Bill always shook his head at him and corrected him, hands hovering over Frank's and unaware of the warm smile that graced Frank's face. He played horribly, but only for Bill. 

Dragging his attention away from the room, he made a sharp turn into the hallway and entered the equally empty kitchen. He still remembered the way Bill would always be standing at the stove, cooking whatever the garden and farm animals had provided for them in the early morning. He cooked eggs frequently. Baked, fried, in an omelet, sunny-side up. No matter which way he made them or what he added alongside them, they always tasted as delicious as the first time. Everything Bill cooked tasted delicious. (Y/N) often found him by the stove during the day, whether making one of the three meals or simply creating a snack. (Y/N) bit the inside of his cheek and popped open the fridge.

Last night's leftovers would have to suffice. 

He heated the meal and sat at the desolate dining table in his usual spot. Always next to Frank's chair at the left end. He ate quietly and savored the last meal Bill ever provided them with before their timely deaths. He chewed slowly and his gaze lingered on the wine cup, lips pulling into a small smile. He had his first-ever taste of wine at sixteen when Bill deemed him old enough to have a taste. Back when times felt simpler. They'd gone so long living a normal life, only ever having to worry about the infected once or twice throughout a month. Most days it felt as if the world hadn't ended, and it was all thanks to Frank and Bill for trying to make his childhood as normal as possible. His head turned toward the window facing out into the street, almost being able to hear the distinct sound of Bill's truck.

"Remember, you always have to keep your eyes on the road and your hands on the wheel." (Y/N) felt nerves bubbling in his stomach as he stared at the empty road ahead. Frank stood on the sidewalk in front of the house with a wide smile on his face and hands lifted into a thumbs up for him. (Y/N) swallowed and glanced down at the pedals by his feet. 

"Eyes on the road, hands on the wheel." (Y/N) repeated quietly under his breath and looked back at the road. Bill nodded approvingly and grasped the assist handle, adam's apple bobbing nervously.

"Good. Now, slowly, step on the gas-" The truck lurched forward and halted in a loud screech. Bill's grip on the handle tightened significantly and (Y/N)'s cheeks burned with embarrassment. "Slowly, (Y/N). Ease into it."

"Sorry." The teen murmured, eyes flickering back down toward the pedals. He slowly applied pressure to the gas pedal and took in a deep breath, holding it as the truck began rolling forward and down the street. Frank hollered and whooped, clapping his hands with a bright smile. Once the truck had driven forward and made some good distance, (Y/N) pulled back his foot and eased his other one on the brake, allowing the truck to go into an equally slow stop. He released his breath and smiled. Progress was progress.

"Good, good. Now, let's reverse. What should you do first?"

"Check the mirrors?" When Bill nodded, (Y/N) straightened up in the seat and checked the side mirrors before moving onto the rearview mirror. When he was done, he grasped the gear shifter and pushed until it switched from drive to reverse. The anxious nerves that'd been swimming through his veins began fizzling out and allowed him to gain more confidence as he mimicked his previous movements and kept an eye on the back windshield. 

"There we go, that's good." Bill smiled. "You're a natural, kid."

He took his time cleaning his dish. He took his time heading back up the stairs. The hallway felt as if it stretched on forever, once welcoming and comforting now cold and suffocating. (Y/N) changed out of his clothes into something more comfortable for the Massachusetts weather outside and took a deep breath to ground himself. He couldn't see them just yet. He couldn't.

In the garage, he collected the shovel still speckled with dirt from a recent trap Bill had set up within the forest and the wooden grave mark he'd made for Frank sometime prior before heading out into town. The sunlight bore down on him, bright and obnoxious, but the cold air prevented him from feeling too much of the heat. The town remained as lively as Frank had left it after demanding Bill help him spruce things up. The town felt fresh and welcoming, despite the wired fence that'd soon crumble. Years and raiders had taken its toll on the once high and sturdy fence. (Y/N) would have to ask Joel and Tess for some help next time they visited. 

In the distance and resting on a small expanse of untouched soil and grass stood a white oak. Its long, thick branches swayed with the wind, almost as if waving at him as he approached. At the base of the tree and nearly embraced by thick roots sat a marked grave. Rose (L/N) had been carved into the wood. (Y/N) smiled. At least someone had been waiting for them in the afterlife. The thought of his mother being reunited with the men who made her last years of life pleasant warmed his heart. He brought two fingers to his lips and pressed them against the wood over her name, muttering a soft greeting. "At least you won't be alone anymore, Mom."

Making some distance from her grave, he struck the ground with the shovel and began the tiresome process of digging up a deep, big grave for his adoptive fathers. He couldn't separate them, not when Bill had made the grueling decision of following his husband in death. (Y/N) knew, deep in his heart, it was what they would've wanted. Even with tears beginning to gather at the back of his eyes, he continued shoveling the dirt out of the way until his arms burned and he felt satisfied with the depth. He dug the grave mark into the space just an inch above the grave itself and used his pocket knife to carve into it. 

Now... he had to face them.

"Is there anything you can't do, (Y/N)?" Frank laughed gleefully, a pep in his step as he approached the young man. (Y/N) smiled widely in return and set the basket of freshly picked vegetables and fruits on the counter. Frank studied each and everyone, humming at their weight and grinning from ear to ear. A sense of pride blossomed in (Y/N)'s chest. He'd been entrusted with keeping the vegetation and animals alive, and he'd done just that.  

"The strawberries are amazing." He told him and Frank quickly ran one under the sink water before biting into it, the pinkish juice rushing down his chin. Frank groaned lowly and leaned against the counter, slapping a dramatic hand over his chest and tilting his head back. Bill made no comment on it when he entered, only shaking his head and gently dabbing Frank's chin with a napkin. 

"Oh, these are amazing. They're beautiful. God, I could eat all of them right now." Frank groaned again. "Bill, you need to try them!" 

"Alright, alright." Bill forced a heavy sigh and took one of the plump strawberries from the basket, cleansing it and taking a small whiff of its smell before digging his teeth into it. He chewed slowly and his gaze jumped up to Frank's face. He pressed his lips tightly together and Frank's smugness grew into a knowing smirk. Unable to restrain himself any longer, Bill released a soft giggle and shoved the rest of the strawberry into his mouth, savoring the sweetness of it. 

"I bet we can make some amazing desserts from them, huh, Dad?" (Y/N) grinned and turned his back to them, missing the way Bill and Frank's eyes flew open. He began running the vegetables under the water, rubbing away any dirt left on them and setting them aside. Bill's eyes flooded with unshed tears that he quickly wiped away with the back of his hand, clearing his throat and patting (Y/N)'s back. 

"Yeah, kid. We sure can."

He stared at the familiar beige door in silence, his hands clenched and unclenching. He couldn't leave them to rot in their bedroom, but a certain fear curled around his heart. He'd seen plenty of corpses, infected and simply dead. But he couldn't bear the thought of seeing them dead. Seeing the lifeless color on their faces and knowing their eyes would never open again. Knowing he'd never hear their voices or feel their warm embrace engulf him again. His teeth dug further into his lip and he lifted a shakey hand to the doorknob, twisting it and pushing the door open. The room smelled the same, the sweet-smelling vanilla candle Frank enjoyed filled the room instead. 

They looked alive, he noted when he stepped inside and looked over the bed. They'd gone to bed curled up in each other's arms, just as always, and headed into an eternal slumber together. Frank's wheelchair remained by the bed, folded up and leaning against the wall near the nightstand where a letter dedicated to Joel sat. (Y/N) took in a deep breath and loomed over the bed. Frank's head rested against Bill's unmoving chest, his dry lips pulled back into a smile. Bill's arms remained around Frank and his head had been tilted to bury his nose in his husband's hair. They looked comfortable and happy. A painless death in each other's arms. (Y/N) hoped he'd go out similarly. 

Placing a delicate kiss on each of their foreheads, he sniffled. "I'll miss you." He breathed shakily and gently peeled back the comforter. He pulled away Bill's arms and slipped his own underneath Frank, picking him up into his arms with little to no effort. Frank had grown frail and weak over his last two years, being reduced to almost just skin and bones. It'd been devastating to watch his health decline, witnessing him go from a preppy energetic man to a shell of his former self. But he'd chosen his final day and spent it exactly as he wished, and it'd been enough for him to slip away with a smile on his face. 

The walk to the burial site had been painful but the tears eventually dried once he got Bill and Frank in their grave. He ensured they were positioned exactly as he found them. In a peaceful and heartwarming embrace. He shoveled the dirt back into the hole, each dump of dirt feeling like a stab to his gut, to his already broken heart. The dirt eventually covered them like a natural blanket, freeing (Y/N) from having to look at their paling faces. He filled the hole to the brim and patted the dirt down into a smooth mound, using the sleeve of his jacket to wipe away at his damp cheeks. 

He had to go on with life now, even if he himself couldn't figure out what that meant. He held the shovel in his hand tightly as he returned down the sidewalk with his head bowed. Bill had mentioned he could remain in Lincoln or see if the Boston QZ where Joel and Tess lived would take him in. A QZ would have people, new friends, and jobs for him to do. But he'd seen the injustice FEDRA committed toward the citizens they were meant to protect and it left a bitter taste in his mouth just thinking about joining one again. Besides, Joel only ever spoke poorly of it. He doubted the older man would be encouraging about it. 

Entering the front yard and lifting his head, (Y/N) halted and blinked at the wide-open old wooden door. He had closed it before taking Bill's body to the grave, he was certain of it. His grip on the shovel tightened further and he took slow, cautious steps up onto the small porch and slipped into the house. He avoided the planks on the floor that creaked and peered into the dining room, only to find a short teenage girl standing by the table and staring at one of the paintings on the wall. His brows furrowed and he purposely stepped on the loudest clank to alert her of his presence.

"Shit!" She shrieked and whirled around, the ends of her hair smacking against her cheek as she staggered backward and pressed herself against the dining table. Joel emerged from the kitchen with his pistol held in the air and his finger on the trigger, only for his shoulders to relax considerably at the sight of the younger man. (Y/N) felt his own shoulders deflate and the shovel clattered to the floor. 

"(Y/N), Jesus... Sorry about bargin' in like this. I wasn't sure if ya'll were-"

"They're gone. I, uhm... I just finished burying them, Joel. T-They're gone." Joel fell silent, his formally knitted brows relaxing on his face and his lips parting. (Y/N) rolled his bottom lip into his mouth and exhaled shakily, the words he uttered weighing heavy in the air. Even the girl, who he couldn't quite tell if she was the product of Tess and Joel, grimaced and bowed her head. Joel's solemn gaze dropped to the floor.

"Tess is gone, too."

"(Y/N)! Perfect timing. We were just about to eat lunch with our guests!" Frank's words made (Y/N)'s gaze snap up from the sidewalk, breath nearly hitching at the sight of two strangers in their front yard. A man and woman, just as Frank had said. Tess and... Jon? Jose? (Y/N) couldn't quite recall the man's name. Frank had been vague with details, only telling them the couple were from the Boston QZ and were willing to trade with them. 

"Hello there." The woman smiled and extended her hand out toward him when he neared them. (Y/N) glanced at the frowning Bill sat at the table and took her hand. "I'm Tess Servopoulos, and this is Joel Miller. You must be (Y/N). Frank's told me so much about you."

"Nice to meet you, Tess." It felt so odd to see new faces. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd met someone new who wasn't a raider or an infected. Tess hummed softly, her hand leaving his to gently touch his arm in a sweet gesture before she took a seat at the table. Her eyes roamed the pistol Bill kept in his hand, keen eyes observing her and her partner. Tess appeared nice and polite. She was older than him but younger than his fathers' with long brown hair and some minor wrinkles. Her eyes, similar to Frank and Bill's, were a lighter color. Green like summer leaves. 

"Come sit, Joel." Tess motioned for her partner and patted the empty chair beside her. Joel kept his eyes trained on Bill, a frown as grumpy as Bill's resting on his face, but he nevertheless moved at Tess's words. He craned his neck to look back at (Y/N) and offered him a stiff, curt nod in greeting. (Y/N) nearly giggled. He resembled Bill in far too many ways. Joel was also younger than his fathers' but significantly older than him. His brows seemed to be permanently fixed into a furrow, yet his hard brown eyes softened whenever he looked at Tess. (Y/N) could certainly get used to them. 

Joel's eyes moved with the sentences as he read the letter Bill had left for him, his fingers holding onto the paper as if it were fragile glass. (Y/N) watched him, unable to decipher the look on his face. He could see an inkling of sadness swirling in his dark eyes but the rest of his face remained emotionless. Joel had been like that since (Y/N) met him. Hard to read, guarded, and withdrawn. Tess often apologized for him until she quietly revealed the truth behind Joel's icy exterior to (Y/N) one afternoon whilst they washed dishes. Frank had been outside with Billy and Joel, ensuring they wouldn't shoot each other as they practiced their aim on some makeshift targets. Tess, very softly and sadly, spoke about how Joel had lost his fourteen-year-old daughter the day of the outbreak, the day of his birthday. 

"What brings you here, Joel?" He questioned gently and his gaze moved onto the girl standing beside Joel, her eyes following along with the words on the letter. Joel finally tore his attention away from the letter and carefully folded it back up, chest rising and falling with a heavy sigh. He set the letter down on the dining table and leaned against it, slipping his backpack off his shoulder and placing it on the floor with a soft thud. 

"I was hired to take some cargo-"

"Ellie."

"-to Salt Lake City where a group of Fireflies are waitin'. They...." Joel trailed off and pressed his lips together tightly, another heavy sigh leaving him. He craned his neck toward Ellie and met her gaze, giving her a stiff nod and watching her cross the room to approach (Y/N). Hesitantly, she slowly pulled up her sleeve and lifted her arm so he could gaze upon it. (Y/N) sharply inhaled at the sight of her arm. Old scarred tissue from a bite mark. "She's immune. They think they can make a vaccine."

"You need supplies, then? And the truck?" He forced his eyes away from the scar and Ellie dropped her arm to her side, tugging the sleeve of her jacket back down with her brows furrowed. (Y/N) dug his hand into the pocket of his jacket and stepped around the teenager to offer the truck's key to Joel but the older man shook his head.

"You'll need the truck-"

"You need the truck. I have no use for it, Joel. Bill and I went to all the stores near here and whatever we didn't grab has probably been taken by raiders or normal survivors." (Y/N) took Joel's wrist, fingers gentle but firm as he held him and placed the key in the palm of his hand. "I'll get the bunker open. You can take whatever you need and, uhm... a shower would do both of you some good."

"A shower? You have running water here?" Ellie piped up from behind him and he shot a smile back at her.

"We've got warm water and fresh clothes. There's a bathroom down the hall to your left."

"Oh, yes, please!" Ellie rolled from her heel to her toes and a wide smile broke out on her face, practically vibrating with eagerness. She wasted no time in dropping her backpack and taking off into the hallway, her footsteps thundering against the wooden floor. Joel's fingers curled around the key and he dropped his arm, eyes studying (Y/N)'s face when the younger man looked back at him. 

"What is it, Joel?"

"I made a promise to Bill. If anythin' were to happen to him, I was to take care of you and Frank." Joel revealed softly. "I can't leave you alone like this. I know you're a good shot and Ellie already seems to like you. Come with us."

It surprised (Y/N) when the answer came to him so easily. The quietness of the house had already become unbearable, and the couple had only passed the night before. The resounding yes but the smallest of smiles on Joel's face before he disappeared into the hall and up the stairs for his own shower. (Y/N) took the time alone to enter and look at each room, reliving the fond memories he had created over the years until the ache in his heart finally settled into peace. Frank and Bill were gone. Nothing on Earth would ever bring them back. But he could continue on in their names and share their story to those willing to listen. 

So, as he helped Joel and Ellie pack the truck, he felt happy. Frank, Bill, Rose, and all the people who once loved him would've wanted this for him, he knew that well. (Y/N) sat in the passenger side and exchanged a smile with Ellie, the girl who accepted his presence without a second thought. He buckled his seatbelt with a click and looked at Joel, the man he knew would try his best to look out for him as he had once done with Tess. And when the truck drove out of Lincoln, his eyes remained on the side-view mirror, watching the white oak tree sway with the wind and wave goodbye.

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #the last of us #the last of us x male reader #the last of us x you #the last of us x y/n #tlou #tlou x reader #tlou x you #tlou x y/n #joel miller #joel miller x male reader #joel Miller x reader #joel Miller x you #ellie miller #ellie x reader #tlou frank #tlou bill

[emwheezie]

Re-uploading character lore with name change updates!

This story follows the friendship of Lennon and Tony as they take the world head on, trying to make music together. The story is based in Cambridge/Somerville Massachusetts in 2009.

Tony Wretzky (born October 3 1983) studied law at Boston University. After college, he didn't do anything with his degree and moved to Somerville, MA with his girlfriend Meg. (He's the type of person who constantly needs attention and is almost never without a girlfriend or boyfriend. (He's Bi). 

Tony grew up in Lowell, MA and attended a Catholic high school, Unlike Lennon, Tony has a pretty decent relationship with his parents.

He's super smart, book smart and emotionally smart. He is a talented writer and poet and great at marketing himself and bringing ideas to life. He's big into punk and hardcore music, (though his parents think this means he only really listens to Green Day). Tony picked up the bass guitar cause he thought it'd be the easiest to learn... it was not easy. Lennon tries to help him out a lot and he's supposed to improve throughout the comic. While Lennon really cares about the music, Tony just hyped up to be in a band and live that kind of life.

Tony believes nothing is accidental and everything he does has purpose. Everything has a reason behind it, even if he has to look a little deeper to find it's meaning.

Tony world is shook when he meets Oli LaBlanc by accident one day. (I'm not gonna get too much into Oli right now, but just know he's a photographer/videographer and graphic designer from NY who is living in the Boston area for work)

The two hit it off right away and become quick friends... Maybe even more...

In a group of friends, Tony would probably be called the mom friend. He's kind and caring and his emotional intelligence gets him far. People love Tony for his friendly and upbeat demeanor and think he's the best looking of the group. He's the type of dude that could really get anything he wants out of life. Unfortunately, Tony has a streak of self sabotage.

Tony often puts others before him. His main priority is making sure his friends are happy and doing well, especially his best friend Lennon. The two of them work really well together, they're like perfect fitting but opposite puzzle pieces. They're two dudes you probably wouldn't expect to be friends by appearance alone.

Tony also picks up crochet at one point... But that's getting into spoiler territory. Heheheh

#oc lore #oc art #ocs #original character #webcomic

[waitmyturtles]

THE MORNING AFTER: ONLY FRIENDS, EPISODE 8 ("TAKE A LOOK AT YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR AND CRY") EDITION

Oh my gosh, I am shaking my head and just laughing. I have no idea where to start writing this, but it's gonna be damn fun to pick this episode apart.

Because of the clues that Jojo Tichakorn (below) and Ninew Pinya dropped before and during the episode's airing yesterday, my mind was totally on Freddie and Queen. I captured the tweet below and couldn't help but think of lyrics.

And the episode was titled "Save Me"!

Before I go on, I have a little personal note. During my watch of MAME's TharnType, I talked a bit about the bigotry against the queer community that I grew up with in my Indian family. During my childhood, Freddie Mercury was -- everything. He was everything to me. A part-Indian man who blasted past any obstacles that could have held him back to become a superstar, while leveraging unbelievable talent. My dad often wanted to snap my Queen CDs in half to keep Freddie out of our house. Up until I went to college, when a new world of music awaited me, Queen was MY BAND. I'll never forget watching his memorial concert on television in 1992, watching Axl Rose destroy "We Will Rock You," and subsequently watching Axl host a Queen documentary on MTV that got repeated for years and years. This shit was formative to my childhood, and I'm gonna guess, to Jojo's and Ninew's childhoods as well. We be old bags in here.

I'll get back to Freddie in a few minutes. but besides all of the Queen themes (quick note: the dude that Sand was about to make out with was wearing the same costume that Ninew caught in his IG stories, as Freddie sang "Love of My Life"), oh my fucking god, did this episode ever touch upon ephemerality, highs and lows, change, and a resistance to change that people have unto others.

Top and Cheum -- especially Top -- were clutching their pearrrrrllllsss at Mew's changes.

Top and Cheum notice that Mew's trying on a new suit. And Mew admits it! He says to Ray in the bookstore -- after the most BRILLIANT call-out to a BL trope if I ever saw one, the CRACKING of the romantic memories montage, which, omg, are we EVER seeing in Dangerous Romance, like three times a bleeping episode, LMAO -- "I'm bored with myself."

I love -- I hate it, but I love that this episode calls it out -- I love that Top and Cheum are calling this behavior out as if it were a bad thing.

Is it?

.... is it not okay for university students to take a bump of coke if they're curious about it? Barack Obama did it -- and Obama admitted it, AND wrote about it, AND became president, twice. Judge him, I dare ya.

On another side, Nick susses out Boston, and wants to check in with him. Boston wants Nick to go bye-bye. Nick tries a guilt pull. And Boston ain't having it.

Fuck. (Side note, Boston was my man this episode.)

I'm shaking my head in wonder for Mew and Boston to be addressing Top, Cheum, and Nick in this way. We've established (here and here, cc @ranchthoughts and others) that the kind of toxicity that this OF group of friends exhibits is just -- common, and pedestrian, and awful to think about existing, but in part, it's so awful for us to be thinking about it, because actually, it's ever-present in our lives, and so many of us survive dealing with other people on a daily basis by using means by which to ignore or avoid that toxicity, like our addictions to our phones, or addictions to other vices, like sex and drugs -- which takes us right back to Only Friends.

The dynamic I saw happening in this episode was like vultures (the friends) circling their prey (their friends), but instead of the friends eating their friends -- what some of the friends are doing is trying to correct the behavior of their other friends. Top and Cheum want Mew to... go back to being the old Mew, maybe. Nick wants Boston to know -- morally, I think you're a bad person. And Boston says, I paraphrase, "see. if. I. fucking. care." and literally creates the NeoTitle ship before our eyes, lmao, all while walking silently and ignoringly away from Nick.

Top, to Mew, says, "Are you sure?" Are you sure you want to be like this now, Mew? Cheum shares with Top her concern about Mew's changes, and literally teams up with Top to bring Top back to Mew to, what, straighten Mew out?

Last time I checked, Mew's a big boy. Mew's made his decisions to be with Ray, to drink with Ray, to snort coke with Ray. Are those behaviors questionable? Sure. Are they normal behaviors for a university student who is bored with himself, and wants to try something new? 100%.

I have written before, in my review of Theory of Love, that while behavioral change can oftentimes be massively difficult, there's another side to change that needs to be considered. When one person changes -- there are many others within that person's sphere that do not want that specific person TO change. If one individual changes, within a worldview of a group -- that changes a group dynamic. People like Top and Cheum are unsettled that Mew and Ray are dating, and that Mew's getting wasted and high. Are they rightfully concerned for Mew's health? For sure. But what about Mew's agency and happiness? Are the friends understanding that this is actually Mew's choice to do these things, regardless of how the friends judge his specific actions?

The fact that Top and Cheum are questioning Mew's agency, to me, is a ROOT, a FOUNDATION of the awful toxicity of this friend group, BESIDES the general drunkenness of the group, and Ray's particularly contradictory and dangerous behavior. THERE IS NO TRUST IN THIS GROUP.

Top and Cheum do not TRUST Mew -- an adult young man!!!! -- to make his own decisions. Cheum doesn't trust Boston with her little bro (oh, woops on that, big sis). Almost no one trusts Ray, although I'm not sure about Mew on that. Boston doesn't trust Nick. The list goes on.

Without trust, without a foundation of love and respect, without an acknowledgement that individuals within a group have agency to live their lives independently -- what you get in a group dynamic is UTTER mush, just a bucket of vomit like what we're seeing here in Only Friends. I am OBSESSED that Jojo and team are picking this apart SURGICALLY, and asking US to question OUR, the viewers', judgement of all of this. These friends are contradictory as fuck. Boston was SO right to ask Nick: "who are you to judge?" Nick acted as filthily as Boston in violating Boston's privacy and rights -- TWICE, bros, TWICE.

And Top.... @lurkingshan said it the best yesterday when she made sure the girlies knew that what Top was doing TO (NOT FOR, TO) Mew at the end of the episode was not consensual. Welp. Tie up Mew's agency with a bow and throw it out into the fucking dumpster, Top.

I haven't touched as much on the Sand/Ray dynamic in this post, but of characters that are acting at least consistently to their... what, their moral judgements or ethical structures, at least Sand, Ray, and Boston remain consistent in my eyes. Anyone who was surprised at Ray's behavior in this episode -- it was bad and icky, and the episode laid it on thick, but I found his behavior to be expectedly toxic.

This was a two-steps-forward-and-one-step-back episode for Sand, as I see it, as he stepped in to try to keep Ray from going to jail (and how interesting was it that it was Top who ended up sealing that deal). One other note about Sand: the show HAS to be making fun of First's inability to sing, right? That guitar practice in 2/4, oof. And to have Sand dress up as Freddie, one of the most magnificent singers in rock -- ironic. We know that Sand doesn't aspire to be a singer; he just wants to go to festivals, and... that's the right decision, my dude.

Anyway. To bring this back to Freddie and Queen. Talk about shapeshifting. In his 20s in the 1970s, Freddie Mercury started out with long hair and flowing, robe-y costumes. As the 1980s progressed, he took on an identity of a mustachioed, slightly muscular man -- very, very closeted, but clearly gay to anyone who caught the signal.

The dude that Sand was about to make out with at the party? He made a reference to Mary Austin, Freddie's longtime companion and best friend. They were lovers for a short period, before Freddie came out to her. And they remained friends all of the rest of his life. While Freddie died with a longtime lover by his side in Jim Hutton, Mary was always present and devoted to Freddie. Mary's presence often caused consternation with Freddie's lovers, especially after his death, what with inheritance controversies. But no one ever questioned Mary's loyalty, and her commitment to keeping Freddie's identity secret and safe.

Freddie and Mary's friendship was in part a protective arrangement for his life in the closet. He only revealed he had AIDS the day before he died. But Freddie claimed the friendship, claimed agency to it, and wanted it in his life. The friendship was steady, and never wavering.

Quite the opposite of the devotions, or lack thereof, in this group. These young folks are demonstrating NORMAL resistance to watching each other change. But while that resistance is normal... it doesn't make it all the less toxic. I'm afraid that as of right now, I read that all of these friends want to sell each other out for the sake of their own selfish desires, and for the benefit of their own worldviews alone.

HAPPY SUNDAY, Ephemerality Squad, if we can be happy after this demonstration of toxicity, ha! @slayerkitty @ranchthoughts @chickenstrangers @lurkingshan @twig-tea @distant-screaming @clara-maybe-ontheroad @neuroticbookworm @elizabethsebestianhedgehog @thatgirl4815

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