#home staging boston

[international-staging]

Professional Home Staging Services for a Quick Sale | International Staging

Looking for expert home staging services to sell your property quickly and for a better price? International Staging provides tailored home staging solutions that transform your space into a buyer’s dream. Our team of professionals enhances your home’s best features, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere that appeals to potential buyers. By using home staging services, you’ll increase the chances of a fast sale and higher offers. Whether you’re selling a small apartment or a large estate, International Staging is here to help you maximize the value of your home with expert staging.

[stellamusing]

Pleased to report that I'm just as insane over the barricade boys as I was in 2012

[rafeskiss]

pretty voice ! ᥫ᭡

pairing: matt sturniolo x popstar! reader

word count: 1.7k

summary: you’re a singer and your tour has made its way to boston where your boyfriend and his brothers attend your show. matt is sure to let you know how well you did after the show

warnings: smut duhhhh, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap his willy!!), p in v, throat fucking, dumbification, dacryphilia, stomach bulge, swearing, creampie, use of “y/n”, probably more that i can’t think of! :)

authors note: fair warning, this is my first time publishing smut, so don’t have insanely high expectations! i’ve written it before but never shared so keep that in mind. however, i can assure you this isn’t completely horrible and i did my best to make it seem realistic but hot at the same time :) hope ya like it!

you had been counting down the days until your sold out world tour made its way to boston, massachusetts. your boyfriend, matt, and his brothers were set to attend the show which made you feel slightly uneasy.

the triplets have never seen you perform live, which is what makes this show so special. you wanted matt to know you were good at what you do. so, you paced around your dressing room doing vocal warmups and eating tablespoons of honey to help your throat.

a stage worker knocked on your door twice before coming in and attaching your mic pack to the back of your dress. tonight, you wore a black strapless mini dress from versace that had hearts of many colors scattered across. you paired this with knee high black boots, which your friends referred to as your “stripper shoes”. you fixed your hair, spraying some dry shampoo on your roots and mentally said a prayer before walking out of the dressing room.

you received your cue to enter the stage, walking up 4 steps before you were greeted with hundreds of screaming teenage girls. you forgot about needing to impress matt.

that was, until, you locked eyes with him. he was standing on the second floor of the venue, the balcony, resting against the railing. watching you so intently, mouthing the lyrics to your songs. nick was singing along to all the songs he knew, while chris just knew the popular songs. but matt knew almost all of your songs. he was your biggest fan. and you were his. most times, you would be spotted attending the triplet’s shows when your schedules aligned. you’d stand backstage, just barely out of the crowds sight. all decked out in blue attire to support your boy, and even the things the rest of the world couldn’t see were blue, too. but matt got to see them after the show. your blue bra and matching blue panties; it drove matt crazy how he got to see you like that after the show, especially if he was the one winning that night.

the show came to an end and you said your goodbyes to the boston crowd, exiting the stage. you walked into a lounge area where the triplets were, along with members of your team. you were swarmed with the usual compliments: “you sounded so good” or “you look great” and you were grateful for them, but tonight they didn’t matter. the only person who’s input you cared about was matt.

he approached you, draping his arms around your neck and you wrapped yours around his waist. he whispered in your ear, “you did so good. ‘m so proud of you.”

you blushed at this, pulling away from the hug. “thanks,” you gushed.

since your next show wasn’t until saturday, you had two days to kill here in boston. you were going to stay with the triplets until you had to get back on your tour bus and depart from matt, so you had to make it count.

matt drove you all home, you took chris’ place in the passenger seat, still in your performance outfit. the drive home was filled with conversation about the concert; what their favorite part was, what songs they liked, etc. and while you were a decently known singer, you never felt famous. until now. matt made you feel famous, like you are on top of the world. you have everything you’ve ever wanted; friends that support you, a successful singing career, and a hot boyfriend. what more could a girl ask for?

you walked through the door barefoot, matt holding your unusually heavy boots. he sets them on the floor by the door as you make a run for the couch, laying down and sighing. while it may be just a simple couch, it feels pretty damn good after wearing “stripper shoes” and prancing around on a stage for an hour and a half.

nick and chris go to their own rooms, knowing you and matt need alone time after not seeing each other for a couple weeks. matt joins you on the couch, he lifts your head up and places it on his lap. his legs were your pillow and the only thing missing was a blanket, still in your tiny dress.

“you cold?” he asks, almost as if he can your mind.

you smile, “how’d you know?”

he reaches to his side and grabs a big blue blanket and tosses it over you, it’s big enough that it covers your whole body.

matt lightly strokes your hair as you lay there in the comfortable silence.

the way your head rests is so close to his dick and he can’t help it if it slowly is getting harder, which it is. you tease him, nuzzling your head deeper into his lap, a.k.a. his dick, which causes him to speak up.

“the fuck are you doing?” he laughs.

you play it off, “just getting comfy!”

“yeah, comfy my ass.” he rolls his eyes playfully.

you press a small kiss to his clothed bulge, he’s wearing baggy jeans and his dick still stands out. he sighs, not complaining.

“you gonna do this right here? in the living room?” he questions.

“mhm..” you hummed. he helped you unbutton his jeans, his black calvin kleins peaking out through the zipper of his jeans. he pulled his boxers down, revealing his dick. he was packing a very pleasant 8 inches that wasn’t too shabby in girth either.

you licked the tip first, then you licked from shaft to tip. matt closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the couch. he placed his hands on the back of your head, pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

“voice sounded so good tonight, y/n,” he breathed. “bet it would still sound good if i fucked your throat.”

he pushes your head down all the way to his pelvis, feeling you gag against his cock. he thrusts into your mouth, the wet sounds like music to his ears.

as he fucked your throat, you felt tears forming in your eyes. you hollowed out your cheeks and looked up at him with doe eyes, laying on your stomach on the couch. you admired the way his eyes fluttered shut everytime he hit the back of your throat, how he’d let out small breathy moans.

“fuck,” he whispers, pulling away. he pulls his boxers down farther so his thighs are exposed. you climb on top of hip and he rolls your tight dress up to your waist, pulling your panties to the side.

“easy access, huh?” he remarks.

you whine, “put it in already…”

his dick enters you and he wastes no time slamming you down on it, his hands firmly gripping your hips. “want it so bad, yeah? you want it so bad?” he taunts, lifting you up and slamming you back down fast.

you are shocked with the speed he did that, not able to form a full sentence. “i- uhm- mhm,” you mumble.

“use that pretty voice of yours, y/n. such a pretty voice… let me hear it,” he rasped.

you bounced on his dick, the couch shaking. “mmmmm, i love your dick so much,” you moaned.

matt smirked, “there’s that pretty voice. so, so pretty.” he continued helping you bounce on his dick, his tip repeatedly hitting your g-spot.

he pulled the top of your dress down, revealing your bra-less tits. now your dress was basically like a belt, just covering your waist. your boobs bounced perfectly in front of his face, he was mesmerized.

you brought your hands up to his hair, running your fingers through it and pulling it when he’d hit your g-spot.

you let out a moan that was almost melodic, matt moaning after. “love hearing you moan on my dick.” he spoke. he gripped your hips tighter, slamming you down harder onto his dick every time.

“i���m gonna- oh god!” you whined.

“do it.” matt instructed. “cum for me.”

you nodded, babbling incoherently as you came undone on top of him. his right hand left your hip and found it’s way to your clit, rubbing you through the orgasm.

“fucked ya dumb, huh? damn,” he said.

you hummed in response, and once your orgasm passed you started bouncing again, desperate for more.

matt turned you around and pushed you onto the couch, in missionary now. now he can pound into you way easier, which is what you’re trying to ask for but you’re unable to speak.

“i— oh—“ you try.

matt smirks, “words, baby.”

this fucker, you thought. there are no thoughts inside your head other than how good his dick feels inside you, there’s no way you can speak.

“oh god… so, umph,” you sobbed as he thrusted into you with an insane amount of force. “so good,”

his thumb found its way to your clit again, rubbing it fast. your eyes rolled back as another orgasm approaches you.

“uhhh- uh—“ you babble. your brain is mush at this point, you don’t notice the bulge in your stomach. but matt does, as his hand leaves your clit and presses on the bulge his dick makes in your tummy with every thrust.

“look at that,” he says proudly. you squirm beneath him, cumming yet for the second time.

his thrusts don’t slow down, and neither do the tears running down your pink cheeks.

“can i cum inside you?” he asks as if you can even answer him. you let out a bunch of moans in response.

you let out a bunch of moans, “i’m gonna take that as a yes.” matt groans before thrusting into you once more. you lay on the couch with your dress still pulled over your pussy and your breasts pulled out.

matt stands up and pulls his boxers and pants up. he plants a kiss on your forehead before he picks you up and carries you to his room. he lays you down in his bed, his silk bedsheets feeling good on your overheated skin.

you’re exhausted, you feel like you melt into his bed. you’re on the verge of sleep but you’re startled when you hear either chris or nick’s bedroom door open.

you lift your head up, and matt opens the door to see what is going on. matt laughs and closes the door.

“what’s he doing?” you ask sleepily.

“nicks wiping the couch down,” matt giggles.

you hear nick through the walls, “i’m gonna fucking cry. never do that shit again.” he whines.

[hysteria-things]

BIRTHDAY BOY

also based off of this

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sub!nate x stripper!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: for his 21st, nate goes to the strip club with his two best friends.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY SMUT, swearing, drinking, semi-public, oral (male receiving), overstimulation, gagging, p in v, handsome/good boy kink, unprotected sex, cream pie

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,370

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: day THREE of nate week!

let’s pretend that today is yesterday🤫

shoutout to @stellarsturns for the idea <3

boston’s local strip club was the last place nate wanted to go to for his 21st, but chris and matt insisted on bringing him. for understandable reasons, nick decided to stay home and wait for them to get back to have some birthday cake.

this isn’t his scene at all, and to be honest, he’s freaked out. not because of the half-naked girls dancing on poles, but because this isn’t… him.

he wanted to stay at the triplet’s house to celebrate, but according to chris and matt; that was boring.

poor nate got left all alone, watching with wide eyes as the dancer did their thing on the stage in front of him. the other two left and said ‘we’re coming back with a surprise!’ whatever that means.

“nate, dude!” chris slurs loudly over the music, his two friends stumbling back to the table they’re sitting at. “look who we got for you.”

“this is— uh…” matt trails off.

you wave. “cherry.”

“damn straight.” matt says, sipping on his beer. “happy birthday, man. we paid her ahead of time.”

holding your hand out, nate’s silent as he grabs on with his shaky and sweaty one. you can feel that he’s squeezing tight, but he doesn’t notice. you don’t mind, though, and instead start walking to one of the many private rooms. “don’t have too much fun!” chris laughs, cheering until his voice fades.

nate didn’t realize how much his head was pounding until he got into the room, the vibration hurting like crazy. the music is muffled, voices from others outside the door. “sit.” you demand softly, and he does.

he takes a good look at your very revealing two-piece, cash that he assumes is the money chris and matt gave you sits under the strap of your bra. avoiding eye contact, he glances around the room. he’s so intimidated by you, especially when he was standing. you’re much taller than him in those tall heels.

“you’re intimidated.” you point out as if you’re reading his mind.

ain’t that the truth.

taking your acrylic thumb, you graze it over his bottom lip. without thinking, he opens his mouth the tiniest bit. he’s looking at you now, mesmerized by your beauty. “your friends told me it’s your birthday.” you say innocently. “how old are you turning, handsome?”

he clears his throat, stammering syllables before he gets the words out. “t-twenty-one.”

nodding, you hum before straddling his lap, your clothed pussy rubbing on the bulge in his pants. he wants to touch you, but he doesn’t know if he can. your hands run from the sides of his head down to his chest, grinding slowly.

he grunts, rutting his hips subconsciously. “s-sorry.” he stutters, but then does it again. his cheeks are red like a tomato. “i-i’m sorry.”

sighing, you start to leave open-mouthed soft kisses down his neck. he groans, the aching boner rubbing your clit the right way. rutting his hips once more, he whines. “i’m so—”

“it’s highly against the rules to fuck customers.” you say between kisses. “but because you’re the birthday boy… i’ll make you an exception.”

you hover on the ground, licking and biting your lips as you stare into his pleading eyes while you unbuckle his pants.

there’s already a wet spot forming through his calvin klein’s. he’s just about cumming in his underwear already. “aw, pretty boy. you’re already making a mess in your boxers.” you tease innocently.

when you start to kiss his hard-on, he jolts from the sensitivity. his hands rush to the hem, pulling down the remains of his bottoms in a whine.

so needy.

his dick is red, the hardness of it looking painful the more you stare at it. you lick the pre-cum from his slit, pumping your hand and swallowing the amount you can fit in your mouth.

lolling his head back, his mouth hangs open from the warmth. god blessed you with no gag reflex, so this is going to be a piece of cake. his eyes roll back each time you bob down.

your throat morphs into the shape of him, gulping as your saliva moistens his base. you notice his nails claw at his thigh. he wants to grip your hair, but he also doesn’t want to hurt you.

to tease him, you moan to send some vibration throughout his body. he thrusts up into your mouth from the suddenness, but you keep going.

the softness of his hips moving upward has him moaning like a mess. “oh, fuck. oh, fuck.”

his dick twitches, pelvis shuttering before shooting his load down your throat. that doesn’t stop you, though. “w-wait.” he whines, trying to push your head away. you don’t budge.

in fact, you move back to his tip, kitty-licking the rest of his cum off of it before spitting. his breath hitches, legs quivering from the feeling. your plump lips move to the side of his dick, sloppily licking the remains of his orgasm that dripped down.

angling yourself differently, you take him to the point where all of him now fits in your mouth.

“wait!” he cries again, eyes becoming watery. “it’s t-too sensitive.”

even though he’s complaining, he takes each side of your head and guides you nice and deep on his cock; nose touching his pubic bone. “it hurts.” he whimpers, forcing your head to go faster.

nate feels so pathetic because of how fast his second orgasm approaches. he’s squirming and twitching like crazy.

“i’m going to cum again.” he pants, hooded eyes looking into your doe-like ones.

a few gulps later, you stay put on his dick while his spurts of cum land on your tastebuds. it’s still coming out of his slit when you take your mouth off with a pop noise.

you get up from the floor, his eyes staring at what your hands are doing as he catches his breath. you reach for the front clip on your bra, take it off, and let it fall to the floor.

then, you remove your panties, bunching them into a ball. his mouth dangles open in complete awe with your body.

you take your time to walk over and lean over him, smirking when all he seems to look at is your breasts. “you’ve been too noisy.” you state. “i think somebody needs to be gagged.”

before he can answer, you shove your panties into his mouth. you start to sit on his dick, nate’s panting getting more intense the further down you go.

you moan lowly, lifting yourself to the tip and plopping back down. he sniffles, you continuing those actions. you run your hands through his hair, looking at his face of pleasure each time you bounce.

the sound of your ass slapping against his thighs is covering up his muffled whimpers and moans. tears stream down his cheeks, a choked sob flowing through the panties blocking his lips.

“you’re so handsome.” you coo, the eye contact turning you on even more as you wipe the tears. his blue orbs are dark, the lids fluttering closed at how your bare pussy feels.

you can’t help but moan as well from the squelching noise that portrays. the tips of your fingers run through his hair, peppering kisses on his jawline. “you want to be a good boy for me?” you ask.

he nods frantically. “uh huh.”

“be a good boy and cum for me, yeah?” you say, moving faster, causing you to squeal when your g-spot gets hit. your dominance is starting to slip. “you-you have too much of a handsome face.”

his eyes widen when he figures out what you mean by that, but he doesn’t care. he grabs your hips and starts to thrust into you, the both of you whining as you reach your highs. “that’s right, handsome. c-cum in me.”

“mhm.” he moans, following your instructions.

you keep going until you collapse on top of him, removing your underwear from his mouth. grabbing the money his friends gave you, you hold it up and get off of his lap. he’s trying to catch his breath when you put your foot next to his leg to hunch over.

“free of charge.” you smile. “happy birthday.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore @antpile00 @ashley9282828 @stingerayyy2 @sturnsjtop @luverboychris @yapperchris @imaslutforoldermen @madisonlovesyouu @poetatorturadaa @chr1sgirl4life @hiimolivia @jo-777 @sturnskiss @st4rgrlll @mattyblover07

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of One Direction fics that take place in a small town, rural area as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis / Harry -

🏡 I'll Fly Away by @juliusschmidt

(E, 122k, childhood friends) Harry and Louis grew up together in Lake County, Harry with his mom and stepdad in a tiny cottage on Edward’s Lake and Louis in his family’s farmhouse a few minutes down the road. But after high school, Louis stuck around and Harry did not

🏡 Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore / @mediawhorefics

(M, 113k, lighthouse) As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

🏡 Black with Autumn Rain by whimsicule / @baroness-elsa

(T, 93k, magical realism) Harry is a journalist, Louis has lots of secrets and the moors aren't exactly the ideal place to rekindle a lost romance.

🏡 Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds

(NR, 88k, historical) 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

🏡 ocean tides you home (series) by @justanothershadeofblue

(M, 88k, Eroda) Harry is a lonely and depressed popstar who sailed out of his hometown on Eroda years ago to chase his dreams. He comes back to the island only to find his shining childhood best friend Louis just as cold and dreary as the island they grew up on.

🏡 Into the Weeds by kair0sclerosis

(M, 87k, secrets) Following the whispered words of a stranger, Harry Styles finds himself in the small town of Peri Ridge. It’s a town nestled within overgrown forests, raging rivers, and ominous mountains- full of unkept secrets, the aura of freedom, and lost people seeking to be found.

🏡 (Take Me Home) Country Roads by Awriterwrites / @a-writerwrites

(E, 86k, Northern Exposure au) Louis as the big city doctor, Harry as a natural healer, Niall as a secretive barkeep, Liam and Zayn head over heels for each other but they don't know it and a lot of hurt, comfort and moonshine in between.

🏡 Full Moon Dreaming by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 43k, soulmates) Louis has given up hope of dreaming of a person, resigned to living a life devoid of that kind of all-consuming love for another and receiving the same in return. But when a new neighbour descends on Louis’ beloved Hanson Bay and moves into the other beach house, could all that be about to change?

🏡 The Things We Know To Be Wild by harryanthus_annuus / @harryanthus-annuus

(M, 39k, HTTYD au) Louis is a London zoologist sent by the University of Highlands and Islands to assess the safety of the island of Eroda as part of the Wonder Seekers Project for sustainable tourism.

🏡 Something About Liminal Spaces by @kingsofeverything

(E, 34k, age difference) Searching for inspiration for his latest book, and hoping distance will help heal his broken heart, Louis Tomlinson heads to the village of Piha on the west coast of New Zealand’s north island.

🏡 It's the Climb by @lululawrence

(NR, 25k, Hannah Montana au) Louis is a world famous punk rock singer with a stage name of William and Jay drags him back to Tennessee for the summer.

🏡 It's Coming on Christmas by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(G, 23k, girl direction) When Harry Styles gets a call from the caretaker of a bakery in a small town in Vermont, she jumps at the chance to get out of Boston and run her own shop.

🏡 Naked & Proud by kiwikero / @icanhazzalou

(E, 18k, songwriter Louis) In which Harry runs an organic store, not a nudist colony, and Louis doesn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

🏡 Between the forest and the field by bluegreenish / @greenblueish

(E, 16k, meet cute) the one where Harry recently moved to a village and his shy dog picks Louis' dogs to play with at the dog park. A fluffy cottage core AU.

🏡 Won’t Let You Down by noellehenry / @noellehenry-original

(M, 15k, inheritance) In a matter of weeks, Harry’s world turns upside down. Suddenly he’s the owner of a farm and B&B, gets involved in illegal trading of unlabeled bottles and has to deal with his everlasting crush on his sister Gemma’s best friend, who has returned to Woodville…

🏡 You Tilted My Hand by @taggiecb

(G, 12k, photographer Harry) Harry Styles arrives in Avonlea, Prince Edward Island for his first day of a coveted and prestigious summer internship at the Avonlea Chronicle. He's quick to realise that he's out of place in the little band of journalists as he's an art major and they didn't choose Harry to be part of the team!

🏡 Babe, There's Something Lonesome About You by patdkitten / @babyarcanacasey

(M, 8k, witch Louis) Louis is a hedge witch, who lives a lonely, solitary life. He's quite happy with his shop in Door County, selling New Age magics to the tourists. 

🏡 Warm Chilling by Larry_you_know / @larryyouknow

(G, 7k, neighbors) Louis moves into a cosy cottage in the English countryside with his dog Clifford to look after his great-aunt's animals.

- Rare Pairs -

🏡 Grundy County Incidents (series) by @haztobegood

(T, 10k, Harry/Louis/Nick Grimshaw & Zayn/Liam & Niall/Greg James) 25 years, 7 friends, 3 relationships, 1 rural county

🏡 Something Good (And I Don't Just Mean Your Chips) by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships

(T, 9k, Harry/Nick Grimshaw) Nick's uncle's will left his seaside cottage, his fishing boat, and all the contents of both to Nick. Coming off the back of months of very poor life choices, a brand new start in a Yorkshire seaside village seems the last remaining option for Nick

[ericshoney]

On Stage ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: Y/n goes on stage with her brothers at the Boston tour show.

Warnings: None that I can think of

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last few hours had been crazy to say the least. You were about to see your three older brothers go on stage and play games with some of their fans. You, along with your parents, Justin and Nate, were standing backstage as the fans all swarmed the front of the stage, ready for the guys to come on.

As your brothers run out, the screaming gets louder, you covered your ears slightly at the noise. You watched with a beaming smile though, seeing as they were happy. You being four, didn't fully understand everything, but you knew that your brothers were happy and that's all that matters.

"Alright everyone we have our family backstage as we're home in Boston, but tonight we are having an extra special guest on stage who's going to be Chris' partner, everyone give a warm welcome to our little sister, Y/n!" Nick shouted.

You giggled and ran out, holding onto Chris' hand, a lot of the girls at the front waved at you, making you feel shy and hide behind the youngest triplets leg.

Nick and Matt chose their partners for the games as you watched everything in amazement. You saw the first game was basketball, but the net was so high up.

"Don't worry, kiddo, we got this." Chris whispered as he bent down to your level.

You watched as Nick and Matt had their turns, cheering with their partners. It was then your and Chris' turn. You held the basketball tightly as Chris smiled, picking you up. You giggled as he walked closer and let you put the ball through the hoop, which was planned with the guys all along.

"Woo! That's our baby sister!" Nick cheered as everyone screamed.

You giggled once again and hugged Chris, feeling shy under all the lights and eyes.

The next challenge was a drawing one. You were happy with this one, drawing was one of your favourite things and drawing a picture of Chris is something you've done before.

You happily started drawing him, taking sneaky peeks at the other drawings, which made the fans laugh. You used his favourite colour as well, which made him smile.

Once you finished, you showed him, making him cheer and give you a high five.

"It looks amazing, kiddo!" He praised, making you smile wide.

The final game was trivia. The guys had fixed it so you had really simple questions about them, so you wouldn't feel bad about getting them wrong.

"Alright sweetheart, out of Chris, Matt and I, who's the oldest?" Nick asked you.

"You!" You cheered, pointing to Nick.

"Correct!" He cheered.

"Yay!" You squealed, giving Chris another high five.

"Alright question two. Who is our best friend from Boston?" Matt asked you.

"Nate!" You shouted, pointing to where Nate was standing, the boy giving you a wide smile.

"Correct!" Matt cheered.

You smiled again, happy with how these games were going and the guys were happy to have you as their special guests, creating a very special memory with you and the fans.

[acesofspadess]

Rewind

I definitely published this a bit out of order but bare with me

“Hello Team Niall.” Niall introduced as they all waved and greeted him back. “Well, I've got a bit of news for you. Because of my concert schedule, I actually won't be in town for knockout rehearsals.” Everyone was shocked… and rightfully so. “Because I won't be there, I've chosen another coach to come in and mentor you guys for rehearsal.” Everyone started to freak out wondering who on earth it might be. 

“And they have been in your place before so I think they’ve got exactly what you need.”

The scene changed to the all too familiar practice room with an empty directors chairs. The sounds of steps progressively got louder until the special person appeared. 

“I'M BACK!” 

But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let's rewind a bit.

~~~~~~

A day or two after The Voice Finale

“Hi I’m Maia Quinn, and I'm the Season 23 winner of The Voice, and we're hanging out with Rob on Front Row Live.”

“Go with me.” Niall moaned into your mouth as you straddled him. “Where?” you question kissing down his neck. “Boston. I know it's last minute and we’d leave in the morning-” you shut him up with a kiss and a roll of your hips, his hands tightening against your thighs. “Just wake me up an hour before we leave.”

Sitting at the desk of you and Niall’s shared hotel room the morning of May 26th  you had early interviews to get through before you were meant to go to the festival. You looked over the camera to see Niall already looking at you.

“Maia congratulations. What a night you had a few nights ago.” Rob praised and you smiled adjusting your airpod. “I am super excited for you and your career and your future. Especially because you're starting so young. You have enough time to kind of like, continue to evolve, and understand your voice; learn a lot more about yourself throughout this process. Talk to me about this process of your experience here on the voice and how you've evolved as a vocalist and a performer.” The interview was more than you could ever imagine. 

“Now your relationship with Niall this season has had fans going crazy. From the after performance hugs to the duet, and the after party, what can you tell us about that?”

You saw Nialls face peak over the laptop screen and stayed neutral. “Niall has been the most supportive and very encouraging. He has become one of my best friends through this whole journey. I lost a lot of my confidence during the pandemic unfortunately. It made me think that I would never be able to do things that I certainly could do and Niall- all these years later- has been there to remind me that I probably can do them, and then make me do it. So our friendship and relationship has been so important to me. He is my best friend across the charts and he’d hate me for saying this, but I wouldn't be here without him.” 

“Last question before we go. Is there anything we can look forward to seeing soon? Maybe another EP?”

You smiled glad you were able to share some information on what was coming next. “All I'll say now is, look for me on stage back home.” you winked dramatically knowing those who would get it would get it.”

“That's amazing, I'll definitely keep my eyes peeled. It was so great having you on. I hope to see you in person soon.”

“Bye!” 

``````````````

View comments

User10 i'm actually really happy she won

User2 wait…Slane is in Ireland…..

User6 I just learned she had an EP…. what?!?!?!?

Being at Boston Calling with him

“Boston, Massachusetts, how you doing?” he asked the crowd after he finished ‘Heaven’. The loud response made him smile excitedly. “Holy shit! This is crazy.” you face palmed knowing he was going to slip up sooner or later. “Thank you all so much for coming out to see me. I really appreciate it.” they cheered again as he sipped his water. You watched as he looked at the amount of people and a smile formed on your face.

 “This is uhm- this is actually my first ever Festival.” he let out a breath at the realisation. “I've definitely been drunk at a few.” you laughed at him with the rest of the crowd. “But I've never played at any and for that reason I'm absolutely shitting myself.” he said looking at you knowing you would calm him, and him seeing you laugh did just the trick. 

“But thank you for being here. I know some of you guys have been queuing for years.” he looked around at the signs “My girlfriend showed me this earlier ‘i travelled four thousand miles to be here from Brazil’ your eyes went wide at the declaration and the deafening screams were present. He subtly looked in your direction and saw your reaction, his worry diminished as he saw you smiling making him smile. “Makes you feel bad from coming just down the road doesn't it? ‘I came from round New York’.” he mocked, “awe who cares.” he laughed with them and you hid a big smile behind your hands. 

~~~~

You walked the same route you came flashing your pass when you reached the gate and made your way in to see Niall. When you saw him you squealed and ran over to him. He turned when he heard you and caught you in his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist and he spun you both around hands on the swell of your bum.

“I'm so proud of you!” you screamed and he laughed before he was kissing you passionately. It was quick as many more pecks through giggles followed. “I can not explain to you how happy i am.” he whispered in shock as you were sitting in the trailer behind the stage and he was getting changed. “You should be so happy, my love. That was incredible, and I am so so proud of you.” he smiled at you before grabbing your hand and kissing the ring on it. “You make me so happy, baby girl.” you melted at his words and stood up to kiss him softly. “And you make me the happiest girl, Ni.”

You surprising Niall at his Zane Lowe interview and him outing you 

You knew Niall was disappointed when you told him you wouldn't be able to make it to his Zane Lowe interview today. He was really excited for this one and wanted you to be there. It was only a few days later that you flew from Boston down to LA for the interview. You were working on last minute stuff for the announcement today and you were nowhere close to done when he was getting ready to leave.

“I'm sorry love.” you kissed his pout away as you both stood by the door of his  LA house. “I know, it’s okay. I know why you can’t make it, and for that I am so very proud.” he melted his lips against yours as your hands went to the curls on the back of his neck and he wrapped his went straight to your bum.

~~~

Niall was watching Zane play his songs and the guitar with a big smile a few hours after he left. “There are some pretty songs on this record bro.” Zane complimented as he switched playing from ‘The Show’ to ‘You could start a cult’. You who had just made it into the studio to surprise Niall were standing behind the glass watching him, waiting for him to notice. 

“Thank you very much.'' He cut through Zanes music. “This one kills me.” Zane admitted as Niall caught on to what he was playing. “Yeah.” he cheered Zane on softly, finally noticing you. You saw his smile widened and you waved softly. “You Could Start A Cult.” he named distractedly, still looking at you as if he looked away you would disappear. 

~~~

“Kingdoms fighting over you,” Niall continued. “I think that like they’re the ones- that could have very easily been, ‘ i like waking up beside you and you're my favourite person.” he joked easily. “But ‘you could start a war’.” you shook your head at his lyrical genius. “Do you ever crack yourself up with it?”

‘Yeah it was something silly at first but now everyone's obsessed with it. It started with me and my girlfriend now, when we met we would watch crime shows together over facetime,” he exposed and you chuckled at his laugh.

‘You say girlfriend now, sorry if i'm over stepping but..” zane trailed off

“No,” he shrugged off looking at you, who nodded, “she was not my girlfriend at the time, she is now, is what that meant.”

“So did she not know the song was for her?”

“She didn't know any song was for her- or about her I should say. The road from when we met to now has been a very dark windy tunnel, but we made it to the other end.”

“That's beautiful Niall, truly.” You smiled at him agreeing with Zane.

“This was the last song on the record that we wrote.” Niall confessed, and you wondered why. “Why, what was missing?” and without hesitation he pointed to you, “her.” Zane looked to where he was pointing and you waved happily at him. He waved back to you just as happy before turning to Niall with a face of shock. “No?” he gasped and Niall laughed, throwing his head back. “Yeah, I know. Way out of my league.” he watched you shake your head with an eye roll and he couldn't stop the smile from gracing his face.

“I could’ve gone and did what I did with the rest of the record and put BV’s all over it and strings and that was my plan - and John just said to me- because we we were not talking at the time…” he pointed between you and him, “...this is your message to,” he paused, ‘“ her’ keep it that way. Just you and your guitar and your feelings.”

And while there's much much more… you’ll see that soon

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

by Dexter Van Zile

I recently witnessed something I haven't seen in a long time. On Friday, August 16, 2024, a group of pro-Hamas activists packed up their signs and went home in the face of spirited and non-violent opposition from a coalition of pro-American Iranians and American Jews.

The last time I saw anything like that happen was in 2006 or 2007, when I led a crowd of Israel supporters in chants in order to silence a heckler standing on the sidewalk near the town common in Amherst, Massachusetts. The ridicule was enough to prompt him and his fellow anti-Israel activists to walk away, as we cheered their departure. It was glorious.

On August 16, 2024, the pro-Hamas activists conducted their retreat from Lexington in two stages.

First, they walked away from the intersection of Massachusetts Avenue and Pleasant Street, where they have been protesting on an intermittent basis since October 7. Then, after they retreated a couple of hundred feet down Mass. Ave. (while tenacious, but peaceful, pro-Israel protesters followed them), the Hamas supporters packed up their signs and withdrew altogether, leaving an Iranian-born American citizen to conduct a solitary rear-guard action. Once the pro-Israel protesters took pity on the police officers charged with keeping the peace and got ready to leave, the pro-Hamas supporter also left — clearly a little bit worse for wear.

The pro-Hamas folks did not abandon the site of their weekly standout because they were outnumbered. The two groups were evenly matched. In fact, the pro-Hamasniks may have even enjoyed a slight numerical advantage over the pro-Israel folks who challenged them. Nevertheless, it was the anti-Israel folks who retreated.

The pro-Israel activists, who had coalesced around a core of Iranian human rights activists associated with From Boston to Iran, used a very simple message to break the resolve of the pro-Hamas activists: "You are on the side of rapists and murderers."

The pro-Hamas protesters tried countering with the lie that Israel is committing a "genocide" in Gaza, but it didn't work on the pro-Israel folks who just kept repeating their message: If you're pro-Hamas, you're siding with rapists and murderers. They offered this message in chants and individual conversations.

The pro-Israel folks didn't bother reminding their opponents that Hamas attacks civilians while hiding behind civilians, thereby making civilian casualties inevitable. They didn't waste their breath reminding the pro-Hamas folks that Arab and Muslim leaders have killed millions of Arab and Muslim civilians without much comment from the progressive left in the United States. The pro-Israel folks knew these facts — but didn't waste their time repeating them on the streets of Lexington. They just kept repeating the central truth of the conflict in Gaza: Hamas is a bunch of rapists and murderers, and many leftists and anti-democratic radicals in the US have taken their side.

Most importantly, our strategy worked.

By repeating the simple truth of what's happening in the Middle East, a gathering of pro-Israel Jews and Iranians stripped a gathering of pro-Hamas protesters of the moral superiority in which they have wrapped themselves since October 7. By sticking to the "Hamas is a bunch of rapists and murderers" message, pro-Israel activists reminded any self-proclaimed progressives who joined the Hamas supporters, that the October 7 massacre was not performed to "liberate" the Palestinians — but to build a social order in the Middle East in which terror and violence is the dominant culture, as opposed to peace, tolerance, and full rights for all religions, genders, and minorities.

It is no accident that Iranians who oppose the theocratic leadership in Tehran have become a powerful force of anti-Hamas activism in the United States. Having to deal with the rapists and murderers who oppress their friends and relatives, Iranian human rights activists understand that the violence against moderate Muslims, non-Muslims, and women in Iran has a common root with the violence of the October 7 massacre. They know that the violence perpetrated against Iranian and Israeli women is justified by radical Islamism, a supremacist ideology that privileges the rights of Muslim men over non-Muslims and women.

Although leftists should know this as well — many don't, and they need to be reminded repeatedly, and publicly, of the true nature of the radical Islamist movement they help support. One day, they will be the target of the Islamist oppression endured by Iranians and Israelis and when it happens, they won't be allowed to say no one told them.

[steddieasitgoes]

you can call me boyfriend for the weekend

I posted this earlier as a link to ao3 but I know some people like to read things straight on tumblr so this is for you people lol As noted, this was supposed to be a short little ficlet inspired by unfortunate "Black Out Wednesday"/hook up with someone in your hometown pre-Thanksgiving ritual and then Steve got a backstory and Eddie wanted a POV and it spiraled out of control like most of my work lol Also I wrote this all in twelve hours and it's not beta read at all lol but enjoy! And please ignore the wonky timeline. It's canon-divergent/no Upside Down. But basically in my head, all the normal things that happened to Steve/Eddie still happened in this universe and they got close during the Autumn months of 1986. I think that's all you need to know! wc: 8.8k | rated: M Read on ao3

The Hideout is unusually packed.

In hindsight, Steve should have figured as much. It’s not like he’s the only former resident in town who needs a shot or two (okay, maybe three, but who’s really counting other than the barkeep logging everyone’s tabs) of liquid courage before heading home to spend a few days with family. The overflowing parking lot and illegally double and triple-parked cars on the street are still a sight to see when he steps out of the Yellow Taxi.

Maybe he should have taken the cute stewardess up on the alcohol offer on the plane. Would have saved him a couple of bucks that’s for damn sure. Still, every time he was about to, Robin’s nagging voice would pop into his head, spewing one of her nonsense rambles about the importance of being fully coherent on an airplane, lest they have to land the plane as if he’d have the skills to land a plane in the first place. And yet, he remained stone-cold sober on the couple-hour flight into Indianapolis from Boston just in case.

Sure, there’s liquor at his parent's house — at least, he hopes they haven’t packed up the dry bar if they did, he’s really fucked this weekend — but he needs something now to keep the anxiety bubbling in his chest at bay. And last time he checked The Hideout is the only place within a twenty-mile radius that can serve up a quick, cheap drink. Plus, there’s the fact that the Yellow Taxi he took here from the airport has already disappeared into the night, and he’s not about to go inside to call another cab without buying something; that would be rude.

In yet another surprising twist, that shouldn’t be surprising given the parking situation; there’s a small line of people waiting to get in. In the nineteen and a half years he spent in Hawkins, Steve’s never seen a line in front of The Hideaway. He knows for a fact that the place never had a bouncer, much less one who meticulously cards everyone who walks in.

Well, everyone but him it seems.

Steve doesn’t even get his wallet open, much less out of his pocket, before the man is wrapping a bright orange ’21 and over’ wristband on his wrist. Which, like, ouch. He knows he just got off a flight after working a half-day shift at the stupid office, but he can’t look that much like an adult. Can he?

Thankfully, there’s no time to dwell on his fleeting youth as he’s pushed into the crowded bar with the rest of the customers who patiently waited their turn in the frigid Indiana November evening.

The familiar scent hits him the second he’s more than three steps through the opened doors — stale beer, nicotine, the undeniable musk bodies emit when they’re dancing and, well, horny. But there’s also something new going on, too. Crisp leather, a piney scene that can only be associated with floor cleaner, and something minty, peppermint, he thinks, maybe for the upcoming holidays. Gone is the stench of piss that no amount of power washing the concrete floors could ever scrub up. Steve notices the concrete floor is gone, too, apparently, as his shoes squeak against the shiny black laminate.

There are a few new booths from the looks of things, and the stage has gotten a major upgrade since the last time he was here to see… He shakes the thought from his head and keeps walking until he finds an open spot in the corner of the bar.

A bartender materializes the second his ass makes contact with the new vinyl seat. She looks vaguely familiar, too young to be in his class, but maybe someone from Henderson’s year. He figures he’ll be downing glasses of expensive wine when he finally musters up the courage to go home, so he orders a shot of tequila and a rum and coke in the meantime. She pours the shot right there, excusing herself to grab the rum bottle from one of the other bartenders working tonight.

He grimaces as he shoots it back, tequila burning his throat as it goes down before he sucks the sliver of lime between his lips. It’s impossible for the effects to kick in this fast, but he already feels the tension easing from his shoulders. He uses the reprieve from his anxiety to really take everything in. The Hideout may have gotten some major upgrades, but he can’t say the same about its patrons.

It’s a real who’s who of Hawkins High has-beens. Andy and a couple of younger guys he remembers playing ball with his junior year of high school, all wearing their Greek letter crewnecks, downing beers and slapping each other on the back. Jason’s in the center with his arm around a stereotypical-looking blonde who is clearly not from around here. Heather Holloway is unmistakable, pressed into a booth arguing with some guy Steve thinks was on their swim team while their three kids jump around unchecked. And is that Chrissy Cunningham with… Gareth? That nerd from Dustin’s D&D group? Steve makes a mental note to bring it up with Dustin when the little shit calls him next because holy shit.

It takes him a minute to spot Tommy and Carol, but once he does, he doesn’t know how he didn’t see them sooner. They’re pressed up against each other, practically dry-humping in the middle of the makeshift dance floor. Tommy’s got his tongue shoved down Carol’s throat, and her hand is fisted into his buttoned shirt that’s definitely a size too small. 

Somethings never change, he thinks, rolling his eyes as the pair stumble their way towards the bathrooms at the opposite end of the bar.

Steve’s about to turn back around and disappear into the shadowy corner he’s found himself in when the static feedback of the seemingly brand-new speakers goes off, sending every patron in the bar covering their ears.

“Sorry! Sorry!” A man calls from the makeshift sound booth a few yards away from Steve. “Give it another go for me?”

“Check one, check one, two. Sounds great, Frank. We’re all set up here if you are,” a woman says from the stage. Steve figures she gets a non-verbal cue from Dave because then she’s talking again, her voice bright and way louder than it needs to be. The giggle that comes next is even worse. “Hi everyone! Lots of familiar faces in the crowd tonight.”

It takes his eyes a minute to adjust to the bright spotlight illuminating the stage, but when it does, he nearly falls out of his seat. Is that?

“Anyways, I’m Tammy, and these are the Townies, and we’re Tammy and the Townies!”

Holy shit! It’s Tammy Thompson. The Tammy Thompson. Robin is going to be so pissed when he calls and tells her about this tomorrow morning. She’ll probably say that he was just seeing things, blame it on the single shot of tequila he’s had since he’s still waiting for his drink, but he knows the truth. Especially when Tammy launches into the opening lines of “Santa Baby,” trying her best to be sultry but still sounding like a rejected Muppet.

Someone chuckles behind Steve, before an all too familiar voice says, “I haven’t heard that one before.”

His first thought is: Shit, did he say that out loud?

And then comes something even worse: Wait, I know that voice.

All the anxiety the shot of tequila chased off comes surging back to Steve, swirling in his gut, threatening to creep up his throat and out his mouth. No. He’s not going to throw up in The Hideout after one shot, not with the entirety of his high school class in attendance. And definitely not in front of Eddie Munson.

There’s no doubt in Steve’s mind that it's anyone but Eddie Munson standing behind him and the bar. He would know that voice and chuckle anywhere, could pick it out in a line-up if he had to after the fall of 1985 when they— nope, not going there.

The way he sees it, he has two options. One, get the hell out of here without turning around. It’s dark in the corner, so there’s a chance Eddie hasn’t realized who he’s talking to yet; in fact, Steve’s pretty sure if Eddie knew who he just spoke to, he never would have opened his mouth to begin with. So, yeah, he could get the hell out of here, maybe leave a couple of bucks at the opposite end of the bar on the way out so he’s not drinking and ditching, and then hail a cab and head to his childhood house.

Or, he could woman the fuck up, as Robin would say, turn around and meet the gaze of a man he hasn’t seen since he was nineteen, confused and desperate to make something out of himself.

He weighs the cons: spend a few extra hours with his parents or face Eddie Munson, the only person other than Robin to ever see him. The real him.

The answer is easy.

“Well, well, well,” Eddie says, sizing Steve up with those big doe eyes of his the second Steve turns in his chair. “If it isn’t Steve Harrington in the flesh. What the hell are you doing around these parts? Thought you left to go make daddy dearest proud?”

Ouch.

Steve should have expected Eddie not to mince words, even if he is a paying customer and all. He doesn’t allow himself to get a good look at Eddie, meeting him with his own mean-spirited retort instead.

“Guess I should have known you’d still be around, Munson,” Steve snarks. Eddie wants to play? Steve’ll gladly participate. “Still flunking out of high school?”

“Now that one I have heard before.”

Eddie doesn’t stick around for a response. He slams Steve’s rum and coke on the bar counter and gives it a rough shove. The glass slides across the sleek countertop before crashing into Steve’s awaiting hand. The drink sloshes in the cup, a few droplets spilling out, but Steve doesn’t have the energy to wave Eddie down and demand a replacement, so he shuts up and brings the now half-empty glass to his lips. He takes a much-needed gulp and then another, alcohol going down better than the shot from earlier, dulling the regret from his mean-spirited retort with it. He sulks for a moment before letting his eyes drift behind the bar. Searching.

If The Hideout is crowded, the bar is just as congested. At least four bartenders shimmy around each other. Hands reaching for various bottles, glasses clinking as ice falls in. It’s the most people Steve’s ever seen behind the small bar top, and he’s willing to bet it’s more than they’re legally allowed.

Fire code and all that.

Not that he knows much about that.

Not yet, at least.

He will once he starts his Fire Academy classes in the new year.

That is, assuming his dad doesn’t kill him the minute he finds out about his career change.

That’s a problem for tomorrow, Steve thinks, shaking the thought away and chasing it further by draining the rest of his drink.

“Can I getcha’ another round?” The young bartender asks, reappearing like a damn bar fairy.

Steve’s not sure he’s fully thought his order out, too preoccupied stealing glances at Eddie, but his lips start moving anyway, words escaping before he has a chance to stop them, “Actually, can I get a Vodka Party Punch with pickle juice instead of pineapple.”

“Pickle juice? Are you sure?”

Shit.

No.

Yes.

Steve quietly contemplates changing his unusual order, tilting his empty rum and coke glass to his lips, desperate for another teaspoon of liquid courage. He’s met with the cool sensation of ice hitting his teeth instead. Another not-so-subtle sneak at Eddie, and Steve doubles down. “Yeah. Eddie should know how to make it.”

“Oh, uh, ” the bartender says, nervously glancing to her right.

Steve follows her line of vision, giving himself permission to do more than glance this time, and finds Eddie on the opposite end tossing around bottles and the shaker like he’s fucking Tom Cruise in Cocktails and not a super-senior who half the town was convinced was a Satanist.

“Let me see what I can do for you.”

Steve gives her his best customer service smile and a quick nod before watching her shuffle through the other bartenders on her quest to get to Eddie.

He lets his eyes linger as Eddie finally doles out the drink he’s been working on. Five years and some change has been good on him. His hair is still as unruly as ever, twisted back in a low bun at the base of his neck. Tending to the bar has clearly served his arms well judging by the tone biceps peaking out from under his black shirt. It’s done wonders for his entire body, if Steve’s honest, sizing up the way he finally fills out his jeans.

Eddie turns just so, new piercings catching in the reflection of the spotlight from the stage. Steve catalogs them, a few new ones to his ears, a hoop in his left nostril. There’s new ink, too, decorating his strong forearms and peeking out from the collar of his shirt.

Steve’s attraction to Eddie isn’t a surprise, especially after the Fall of ‘86. But it’s like a match has just ignited a new flame in the depths of his body. He looks good, is all. Really, really good.

Steve’s pulled from his not-so-subtle ogling when the young bartender finally gets Eddie’s attention. He can’t hear the conversation, but he spent enough time around Eddie to know what the man is saying without even looking at his lips. Her back is to him, but Steve knows the minute he brings up the drink because Eddie’s body goes stiff, his head jolting toward Steve, eyes growing wide as he glares at him from the opposite end of the bar.

For a moment, Steve thinks he’s truly fucked up. Well, more than he did five and a half years ago when he let his dad convince him to set him up with a job in Boston that forced him to leave without saying goodbye to anyone, least of all Eddie. But then he sees the moment Eddie’s stubbornness sets in, clouding his eyes and forcing his chunky boots to stomp through the hoard of sweaty bartenders.

“Did you come all the way home to fuck with me?” Eddie barks, still a foot and a half away from him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Cut the bullshit, Harrington,” Eddie snaps, hands smacking onto the countertop.

When Steve doesn’t say anything, Eddie rages on. If it wasn’t for Tammy Thompson’s wailing in the background, Steve’s pretty sure they’d have everyone’s attention right now. Thank God for Tammy Thompson.

“Seriously? Pickle juice!”

Steve’s hit with the familiar woodsy, nicotine smell he spent months chasing around town as Eddie drops to his elbows, leaning in closer to Steve. For a second, he thinks Eddie is going to deck him, at the very least fist his hand into his shirt and yank him forward, but he doesn’t.

“I know damn well you’re not ordering Vodka Party Punch with fucking pickle juice at the fancy bars wherever you ended up. What makes you think you can order one here now?”

“You’re right, I don’t order them in Boston,” Steve says, answering the question Eddie really didn’t ask. “But I’m ordering it now because you’re the creator of the drink, and I know you’ll make it taste right.”

Steve watches Eddie’s jaw drop. The bar is dimly lit but it doesn’t take florescent lights to catch the red tinting the tips of Eddie’s ears, fully exposed with his hair pulled back in a bun. It’s been a minute since Steve attempted this game with anyone, but Eddie’s always been a fun participant — especially when he’s pretending he doesn’t like it.

“I’m charging you double,” Eddie concedes, twirling the giant skull ring still perched on his finger.

“Better make it worth my dime, Munson.”

“You know I always do, Harrington,” Eddie taunts, clearly finding his footing in this flirtatious sparing match they’ve started. 

* * *

By the time Eddie returns with his drink, Tammy and the Townsies have wrapped up their set for the night — thank god — and The Hideout slowly starts to empty out. With a few less bodies occupying the actual bar, Eddie has no problem sticking around, tossing his dish rag over his shoulder as he slides the Vodka Party Punch with pickle juice over to Steve, much gentler this time.

The drink smells exactly like he remembers, but the presentation has improved since their days of mixing them in the Munson’s crowded kitchen. A mini pickle is skewered through a toothpick as garnish, and the glass is tall and clean, a rarity in the mug-infested kitchen of that autumn.

Steve makes a show of his first sip, slowly raising the glass to his mouth without breaking eye contact with Eddie as he licks his lips in anticipation. Eddie’s eyes dilate the second Steve’s tongue makes an appearance, and it takes everything in Steve not to jump across the bar and shove it down Eddie’s throat a la Carol and Tommy style. He knows the Eddie from five autumns ago wouldn’t mind, but this Eddie might.

He does the next best thing instead, taking a slow sip of the drink, exaggerating when he swallows before punctuating the first taste with a low moan of approval. Judging by the smattering of pink moving to Eddie’s cheeks, it works.

“Delicious, just like I remembered.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. He knows it the minute the words leave his lips, and the flush on Eddie’s cheeks drains to a ghostly white , eyes turning to fire.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that,” Eddie scoffs, snapping his dish towel off his shoulder to wipe the counter.

“I just, I—“ Steve groans, scrubbing a hand down his face. Leave it to him to be back in Hawkins for less than three hours and already fuck things up. “Thank you,” he finally says, eyes trained on his drink. “You didn’t have to make it, and you did, so thanks.”

“Whatever customers want, they get here at The Hideout.”

Steve can’t help but snort, “S’that a new motto?”

“It’s a work in progress.”

When Steve glances up, Eddie’s smiling at him. Not his toothy grin Steve loved to coax out of him, but his lips are definitely quirked into a grin which he’ll take as a win. Small victories and all that.

“That what they pay you the big bucks for? Slinging drinks like Tom Cruise and coming up with new slogans?”

“Something like that.” Eddie finishes wiping down the counter in front of Steve and moves half a step to his right, working on the next area that’s vacated.

Steve thinks that’s it. The beginning and end of their civil conversation, but then Eddie looks across the bar, no doubt taking in the empty state of things, before turning back to look at Steve. Really, look at him.

If it weren’t for the liquor coursing through Steve’s veins, he doesn’t think he’d be able to sit there under Eddie’s gaze. But he does have alcohol on his side, so he stays glued to his seat, his own cheeks heating up as Eddie’s brown eyes roam over his body, taking him in the same way he did with Eddie a while ago.

When he’s done, Eddie cocks his head to the side and tuts. “You’ve seen better days, Harrington. I think your eye bags have eye bags.”“Corporate life’ll do that to you,” Steve grumbles, taking another sour sip from his drink. When Eddie doesn’t throw a dig he knows is on the tip of his tongue, Steve breaks the silence. “You look good behind a bar.” Jesus, maybe he should have kept his mouth shut. “I mean, uh, how long have you been working here.”

Eddie snorts, coming back over until he’s right in front of Steve. He drops to his elbows again, pillowing his chin in his hands as he makes direct eye contact. “About five-ish years ago. Right after I graduated.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“I, uh, thought the plan was to get the hell out of here?”

Eddie hums. “It was. Took the job to save money so I could do just that.”

“And you ended up loving it?”

“Hated it at first, actually, but you know we’re not all lucky enough to be able to get the hell out of Hawkins just because people tell us we should,” Eddie says, eyes boring judgment into Steve’s own. “Figured if I have to stick around I might as well try and make it better for those of us still here.”

“That’s what you’re doing, then?” Steve asks, generally curious. He always knew Eddie had a savior complex, saw it firsthand when Dustin and the rest of the kids started high school, and immediately got swept up in Eddie’s inner circle of outcasts. “Making Hawkins better?”

“Trying to,” Eddie says, and Steve can feel the walls around him shrinking, only for them to harden in an instant. “Turns out it’s a lot easier when the assholes flee.”

Steve winces and downs the rest of his drink. When it’s drained, he sets it down and fumbles through his pockets for his wallet. He gets no more than three measly bucks out before Eddie is shooing him away.

“It’s on the house tonight.”

Steve shakes his head, digging back into his wallet “Don’t think your boss’ll be happy about that.

“Good thing m’the boss then.”

Steve gawks. He’s pretty sure his jaw is fully open, but it's worth it to see the pleased look on Eddie’s face. “Shit, seriously?”

“What, you think old Dave was the one to plan the renovation of this place? That cheapskate was slinging water tinted brown with food coloring to the regulars once they got drunk enough not to tell.”

Steve laughs, but doesn’t get distracted with the anecdote like he knows Eddie hopes he will. Eddie Munson might have his heart in his sleep, but if there’s one thing Steve knows about him, it’s that he hates being emotionally vulnerable. Steve can’t say he blames him, but still, he presses on.

“Eddie Munson, CEO of the Hideout. Who would have thought?”

“I don’t know about CEO,” Eddie says, fingers struggling with the elastic holding his hair back. It takes a second for him to get the strands untangled, and when it does, his hair cascades over his shoulder in those same unruly curls Steve tried to tame once or twice. Eddie’s hand immediately finds a strand, twirling it around his fingers and pulling it towards his lips. “Owner as of the first of the year, though.”

“Eds, that’s really fucking cool. Holy shit! Congrats! I feel like we should toast or something.”

If Eddie catches the nickname slip up, he doesn’t mention it. Maybe Robin’s patenting ramble so they can’t comprehend every embarrassing thing you’ve said method actually works.

Instead, he waves him off. “Sounds to me like you’re just trying to get another round of free liquor in you before heading home to the parents.”

“Damn,” Steve says, happy to play along. “Am I that obvious?”

Eddie rolls his eyes but ducks behind the counter for a moment, popping back up with two clean cups. He blindly reaches for a top-shelf whiskey and pours just a bit too much to be considered a shot, but not a full serving either. They clink the glasses together in a silent toast before throwing back the over-poured shot like they’re nineteen and twenty again.

“You know,” Eddie says, closing the distance between them as he leans against the countertop again. “We’re looking for some silent investor, partner types to help out with financing. If you, uh, know anyone who might be interested.”

“Oh,” Steve says, liquor making his brain slower than usual.

Eddie pushes off the bar, shaking his head. “Don’t look too excited, Steve. I was just joking.”

“No, shit, I mean, yeah, I would invest. Love to even,” Steve rambles, desperate to keep Eddie from joining the rest of the bartenders in tallying up their tips. “It’s just, uh, I’m actually getting out of the investment world.”

“You don’t have to lie, Harrington. A simple no will do.”

“I’m serious. Today was actually my last day. I’m enrolled in the Fire Academy come January.”

“Holy shit,” Eddie says, that toothy grin finally making an appearance. “Way to bury the lede, Stevie! We should be toasting to you! Finally getting out from under your dad’s thumb!”

Unlike Eddie, the nickname isn’t lost on Steve, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it. Not if he wants to keep Eddie smiling, and dammit he does. It’s the only thing he’s ever really wanted.

“I mean, I still have to break the news to my dad. But yeah, assuming he doesn’t kill me, it’s happening.”

“Hey, Munson,” a bartender he realizes is Jeff calls from the opposite end of the bar. “Get your ass over here and close out so we can go home. Some of us actually want to see our families.”

Eddie flips Jeff off but doesn’t budge from his spot in front of Steve.

“I should probably head out, too,” Steve says, slowly rising from the stool. His legs are full of pins and needles, asleep from sitting so long, but he manages to stay upright.

“Wait,” Eddie says, shouting even though all Steve’s done is duck behind the counter to grab his duffle from the floor. “Did you drive here?”

Steve shakes his head. “Took a cab from the airport, gonna use the payphone out back to call another.”

“Don’t do that,” Eddie says in a rush. “I mean, I can’t let you waste your money on a cab when you’re unemployed now.”

“I’m not unemployed, I’m going to—“

“Fire school, yeah, yeah, I got that,” Eddie says, waving him off. “Just give me two minutes, and I’ll drive you home, okay?”

“Yeah, alright.”

Steve makes a show of sounding inconvenienced, which earns a dramatic eye roll from Eddie and a victory for himself. His streak of pretending not to care actually working lives on another day.

* * *

Seven minutes later, thanks to a mathematical error and a hushed conversation between Jeff and Eddie, Steve finds himself in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. “I can’t believe you still have this thing.”

“How is it any different from you still driving the Beamer?”

“How do you know I still drive the Beamer?”

“Please, the only thing you love more than that car is Buckley. Speaking of, where is your platonic other half?”

“Still in Boston. She got asked to write an article for her grad department’s journal.”

“Ah, so she sent you to the lion’s den all on your own,” Eddie teases, slowing to a stop despite the light still being yellow.

“Figured this was one Harrington vs Harrington battle she didn’t need to bear witness to.”

Eddie gasps, clutching a hand over his heart. “My, my, it seems like us lowly mortals are in the presence of the Great Sir Stevebert tonight.”

Steve can’t help but snort. He’s missed this. The easy teasing, the openness. Eddie and his silly voices and even sillier words. He can’t believe he’s gone almost six years without him.

“So,” Eddie says, drawing out the vowel. “Isn’t Dick going to be extra pissed off that you’re showing up on his doorstep at three in the morning?”

Steve shrugs. “Probably.”

“What time were they expecting you?”

“When are they ever really expecting me?” Steve laughs dryly. “I didn’t really give them a set date. Figured if I told my dad I was flying out today, he’d figure out the whole work thing so I told them I’d try to catch a late flight after I finished for the day and be there by Thanksgiving dinner at the latest.”

“So they don’t know you’re in town.”

Steve shakes his head. “Not unless someone at the unofficial Hawkins High reunion tonight ratted me out.”

“Jesus H. Christ you caught that too?” Eddie shouts, smacking his left hand against the dashboard. “I’ve worked plenty of Wednesdays before Thanksgiving, but none of them have pulled that many of our former classmates out. I don’t know why everyone is back in town this year.”

“Back in town or never left?”

“Hey,” Eddie scolds. “Watch it. Your life is in the hands of a Hawkins townie right now.”

Steve holds his hands up in surrender and is glad to see Eddie grinning at him when he musters the courage to steal a glance. He wishes he could offer a careless smile back, but the closer they get to Loch Nora, the more he feels the anxiety creeping in again. Eddie must sense it, too, because he slows to well below the speed limit.

“I wouldn’t mind having a roommate for the night,” he says nonchalantly. Like Eddie’s talking about the weather and not offering to spend the night in Steve’s presence. Steve, the guy who disappeared on him one day after months of fucking around — literally and figuratively. The same Steve who hasn’t been back to Hawkins because he’s been avoiding this exact situation like the chickenshit he is.

“Wayne probably will, though,” Steve says, trying his best to turn Eddie down without actually turning him down. It’s not that he doesn’t want to spend the night with him. Hell, he’d sell his left arm for the chance. The problem is it’ll just be one night, and Steve doesn’t think he has that in him. Not when he wants all the nights.

“Good thing he’s not home.”

“Wait,” Steve says, turning in the passenger seat to look at Eddie. “He left you on Thanksgiving? Isn’t that against your Munson Family Code or whatever?”

Eddie snorts, mumbling something that sounds an awful lot like ‘I can’t believe he remembered that’ under his breath. “I told him it was okay. He’s up in Chicago spending the holiday with Scott Clarke’s family.”

“Scott Clarke? The middle school science teacher?”

Eddie nods.

“I didn’t know they were friends.”

Eddie breaks in the middle of the street, leveling Steve with a look he finds himself receiving from Robin all the time. She says people like them are supposed to know when other people are like them, but so far, Steve has yet to inherit that superpower.

“Oh, shit,” he says, finally. “I didn’t know your uncle was into guys.”

“Neither did I,” Eddie laughs. “It was a real memorable day in the Munson’s house when I found out.”

A comfortable silence falls between them as Eddie eases the van back on the rode. They stay like that for a light or two before Eddie rolls to a stop at a familiar intersection.

“Great Sir Stevebert,” he says, switching into his deep, DM voice. “It seems you have a choice to make. Shall you continue on your travels, taking the golden brick road to the lone castle on the hill, or shall you take the road less traveled and embark on the twisting journey to the Moors?”

Once again, the decision is easy.

“If you really don’t mind,” Steve says instead of a definitive answer.

Eddie whoops and makes the sharp right turn that’ll take them to Forest Hills. “Onward, Sir Stevebert, to the Moors, we go!”

_ _ _

Eddie has no idea what he’s doing. One minute he’s fighting with himself, desperate to keep his attention on the out-of-town in-laws of some Hawkins High alumni in need of a blissful night out before the family shit starts and not on the sulking figure of Steve fucking Harrington on the opposite end of the bar. And the next second, he’s ushering that same Steve up the steps of the Munson trailer like he did so many times before.

Jesus H. Christ.

He should have listened to Jeff. He should have called Steve a cab and paid for it himself if it made him sleep better at night. Hell, he should have kicked Steve out the second he mouthed off to him. But he didn’t. And he couldn’t.

Despite all the bullshit, Steve put him through, despite five whole fucking years without so much as a call, Eddie still has a soft spot for the goddamn fallen King. Time heals many things, but the love he has for Steve isn’t one of them.

Love?

No. Strike that from the record.

Infatuation.

A crush, maybe.

Not love.

Not anymore.

Eddie shrugs his shoulders, shaking the thought from his entire body, and moves to unlock the door. He gestures for Steve to enter, and Eddie trails behind, bending down at the entrance to untie his work boots and free his sore feet. He wasn’t lying when he told Steve this is the busiest pre-Thanksgiving shift he’s ever worked. He’s pretty sure his blisters have blisters at this point.

His knees ache at the position, so he lets himself fall back, ass on the worn welcome mat as he finishes the task at hand. It feels nice to get off his feet, and he lets himself linger there for a moment. A hand massaging the ache from the arch of his foot while his eyes drift up, watching Steve asses the trailer much like he did the very first time he found himself in the humble abode.

As nice as it is to get off his feet, the last thing Eddie needs is for Steve to turn around and catch him staring at him from a spot on the floor. With a quiet groan, he hoists himself back into a standing position and dusts his hands off on his jeans.

“Wayne getting rid of his mug collection?” Steve asks, breaking the silence. Eddie follows his pointed finger to the top, empty rack shelf the patterned couch.

“No, just relocated ‘m. He spends most nights at Scott’s house now. I basically own the place. Wayne refuses to let me pay the full rent, though, since it’s his name on the lease.”

Steve lets out a low whistle that doesn’t do anything, Eddie, nothing at all, and turns to face him with a look of mischief in his hazel eyes. “Now, who’s the one with a silver spoon.”

He can’t help but laugh at how absurd that sounds. As if inheriting the trailer is some kind of privilege, but in some ways it is, right?

“It’s no rent-free apartment in a big city, but it’ll do,” he says, trying his best to throw a dig back at Steve, but it doesn’t sting the way he wants it to. If anything, it makes Steve’s lips dip into a frown instead of stroking that familiar petty flame he knows stays lit in his gut.

“Come on,” Steve says, rolling his eyes. “You think Dick Harrington pays for my place in Boston? The asshole got me a shit job and told me to figure the rest out. I was lucky Robin was already there when I showed up. Her RA wasn’t too pleased, but we made it work that first year.”

Great, now he’s the asshole.

It’s such a different picture than the one he’s spent the last five years painting in his head. That good ol’ Dick Harrington shipped his only son off, far enough away that the town freak couldn’t continue sinking his teeth (and dick) into him without him knowing about it. Set him up with a good job and a nice place to sleep at night that left Steve no choice but to stay even though he knew that’s not what Steve wanted. Never was.

But that’s not the story, is it?

The real story is that Dick Harrington is an even bigger prick than he thought, and Steve is a coward. Eddie can understand Steve staying away if his dad made his new life nice for him and kept him comfortable and just shy of miserable, but he didn’t. And yet, Steve stayed in a job he hated, in a dorm he had no business crashing in because Daddy Dearest told him to do it.

A part of Eddie wants to ask why. Wants to dig his grimy finger into the still-fresh wound in Steve’s chest, judging by the grimace on his face, and get to the bottom of what the hell his dad has over him to keep in line. But what good would it do, really?

Eddie opts for a different strategy instead.

“Why now?”

Steve cocks his head, brows knitting together in that cute confused face Eddie used to love coaxing out of him with a single nerdy phrase back in the day. “Why now what?”

Eddie sighs and scrubs a hand down his face. He could change the subject, shrug off his question, and steer the conversation into calmer waters to get them through the night. But that wouldn’t be fair to him or Steve. Not in the long run.

“It’s been five years since you’ve been in town, Steve,” Eddie says blankly. “Why now?”

“My parents are selling the place,” he answers, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Said they wanted one last family Thanksgiving in the place before it’s not ours anymore. It’s bullshit if you ask me. I can’t remember the last time we spent the holiday together, even when I lived here, but here I am.”

“Here you are.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Steve groans, collapsing on the couch behind him. “I don’t know what it is about my parents that has me running to them every time they ask, even though they don’t give a damn about me 99% of the time.”

Eddie follows Steve's lead, settling on the couch but leaving the middle cushion open. An unofficial barrier between them. “I’m no psychologist, but it sounds like textbook daddy issues to me.”

Steve shoves at Eddie’s shoulder, but he doesn’t move, too stunned by the sudden contact to do anything else. Steve’s hand leaves his shoulder as fast as it finds it, but the effects are already in motion. Eddie’s entire body vibrates under the ghost of Steve’s touch, skin alive and hot in a way it hasn’t been in years.

Eddie turns, expecting to find Steve staring off in the distance, but instead, he’s staring at him with those open, honest hazel eyes. All it takes is one look, one single slip of his eyes to Steve’s lip and back again, and Steve’s surging forward, closing the distance between them.

Steve tastes like cheap liquor and pickle juice, and all it takes is one swipe of Steve’s tongue, and Eddie’s transported back to the Fall of 1986. Of experimenting with whatever ingredients they had on hand in the kitchen and throwing back drinks to nurse their respective education wounds — Eddie not graduating again, Steve failing to get into college. Memories of playful shoves turning into wrestling matches turning hot and heavy until lips met lips and skin, so much skin.

Five years may have passed, but it feels like no time at all as Eddie sinks further into Steve’s embrace, fingers tangling in the wisps of hair on Steve’s neck, and Steve’s own hands find themselves tangled in his curls.

It’s only when Steve moves to straddle Eddie’s hip that the reality of the situation hits him. Eddie jolts away; hands braced on Steve’s shoulders to keep a respectable amount of distance between them. He hates himself the moment he looks into Steve’s cloudy hazel eyes, but he’d hate himself more if he let this continue without checking in.

With Steve an arm's length away, Eddie studies him. Squinting as he stares into Steve’s eyes, checking for glassy, unfocused eyes, excessive sweating, and flushed face — all of which Steve has, but maybe not for the reasons Eddie is checking for.

“You’re drunk,” Eddie says plainly.

Steve shakes his head, words, not even the least bit slurred when he says, “No. Maybe a little buzzed, but that’s it. I promise.”

Something snaps inside of Eddie at those two words, releasing the anger his horniess has been holding at bay. In an instant, he feels the rage boiling inside of him, and he shoves at Steve hard enough to send him back to his end of the couch.

“With much offense, Steve,” Eddie says, venom dripping from his lips as he spits out Steve’s name. “Promises don’t mean shit coming from you.”

And just like that, they’re back where they started the evening off. Opposite sides of each other, scowling and hurt in their own ways.

Steve sighs and shifts on the couch, not-so-subtly adjusting himself in his pants. “Eds,” he whispers, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I fucked up, okay. I know I did, but what was I supposed to? My dad was threatening you just as much as he was threatening me, and it was just easier to leave.”

“Easier for you, maybe.”

“I—“

“What are we doing here, Steve?” Eddie asks, cutting off whatever lame excuse is coming next.

“I thought I was trying to apologize but clearly I was wrong.”

Eddie can’t help the dark chuckle that escapes him. “So you apologize, and then what? We fuck, you get one last blowjob by the former freak of Hawkins, and then poof, you’re gone again?” Eddie rises from the couch in an instant, sock-covered feet pacing the length of the living room. He steals one glance down at Steve and shakes his head. “I should have listened to Jeff. Should have listened to everyone and stayed the fuck away. This is nothing but a pre-holiday fuck, and I’m so fucking stupid for falling for it.”

“No!” Steve shouts, standing up now too. “I’m not, I mean, I didn’t even know you’d be at the Hideout. I just stopped there because I couldn’t stomach the thought of showing up to my parents' place sober.”

“You think that makes me feel better?” Eddie snaps. “Tell me this: if I wasn’t at the bar tonight, would you have come to find me?”

Steve says silent.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“I didn’t even know you were still in Hawkins until tonight!”

“Bullshit! I know for a fact Henderson has mentioned seeing me when he comes back for the holidays. Just stop lying!”

“You want me to stop lying?” Steve shouts, stalking over to where Eddie’s stopped pacing. He boxes him in against the new bookshelf he installed in the corner where Wayne’s roll-away mattress used to sit. With his shoes still on, Steve’s got half an inch on Eddie and it’s daunting staring up into those eyes when Steve’s jaw is set in a hardline. “I fucking love you, okay? I have for years! And yeah, I was a fucking coward for leaving, and I could have, should have called in the years since, but I was scared, okay? I was scared you figured out that I’m not worth it and found someone better, just almost everyone else in my stupid fucking life and—“

It’s Eddie’s lips that crash into Steve’s this time. The words die on Steve’s lip, and for a maddening moment, Eddie wonders if he’s broken him beyond repair. That maybe he sould have left him keep spiraling and hit rock button, but then Steve kisses him back and it’s perfect. Well, as close to perfect as they can get considering they’re both angry and exhausted and Jesus h. Christ when did Steve learn to do that with his tongue? It’s headier than the kiss on the couch, leagues better than their awkward teenage makeouts from that autumn. They’ve both grown up, practiced, and found what works, and god damn, does it work.

When they pull apart this time, it's only to catch their breaths before diving back in. Eddie gets his hands on Steve’s shirt, rucking it up and over his head in a tangle of limbs, his own shirt isn’t too far behind, flying through the air with reckless abandon. Steve’s lips find his throat and Eddie doesn’t know if he wants to scream or sink into him further so he does a mix of both, a wanton moan falling from his lips as he pulls Steve closer by his hips and ruts against him.

They’re really moving now, stumbling down the familiar hallway until they’re crashing into Eddie’s unmade bed. Eddie hovers over Steve, admiring his flushed torso and blissed-out face for all of two seconds before Steve pulls him close, whispering want you and need you, and who is Eddie to deny Steve anything, much less mutual pleasure?

They fumble with each other’s jeans, hands shoving and hips lifting and twisting until there’s nothing between them but the thick, musty air. Eddie’s hands trail up and down Steve’s body, his lips and teeth following leaving marks on his favorite moles. He licks a stripe from the dip of his waist to his belly button and back down, and Steve keens under him.

“Please,” Steve whines. “Stop teasing.”

“It’s call foreplay, sweetheart,” Eddie chirps, but ultimately gives in, taking all of Steve in his mouth in one go.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve swears, fisting a hand into the sheets.

Eddie pulls away, eyes wide and full of mischief. “First you say no teasing, then you get mad when I take you? What do you want from me, Stevie?” He cups Steve’s ball, rolling them with enough pleasure to coax another moan from Steve’s lips.

“Just play nice, Eds.”

Eddie hums, then dives back in, slower this time but still just as desperate. He’s missed this almost as much as he’s missed Steve in general. Maybe even more, if he’s honest. There are a lot of dicks in the sea, but none as beautiful and responsive as Steve’s.

Eddie laughs at the cheesy thought, and the vibrations do something to Steve to elicit the most beautiful sound Eddie’s ever heard. He almost laughs again just to hear it again, but before he has a chance, Steve’s shoving him off and flipping them over.

“Wh— what’s going on?”

“M’too close, and I don’t want cum without tasting you first.”

Despite his protests, Steve dives straight in with no preamble and Eddie feels the familiar coil of pressure building in an instant. He’s not going to last, not if Steve keeps doing that with his tongue and Jesus h. Christ he’s never going to live it down if he cums two seconds into getting Steve’s lips on him.

He tries to think of anything else. The disgusting bathrooms at the Hideout he’s going to have to clean tomorrow and the grocery list on the fridge he has to brave the last-minute holiday shoppers for, but nothing seems to work.

Eddie squirms, tries his best to get away from Steve but Steve hand settles on his hips, holding him to the mattress as he continues to move up and down. Eddie sees the stars building in his eyes without even closing his eyes and his hand moves on its own volution, finding Steve’s leaking cock and wrapping his hand around it.

If he’s going to cum embarrassingly fast, so is Steve.

He matches his strokes with Steve’s and they both fill the room with their moans and cries until finally they collapse on each other. Eddie’s hand and chest are sticky with Steve’s cum, and his own is spilling out Steve’s lips, but he doesn’t care. He pulls Steve closer, capturing his lips in a searing, sweaty kiss.

* * * 

Another round and an hour-long make-out session later, they finally get up to clean themselves up. Eddie leaves Steve in his room and disappears into the bathroom. One look at His debauched self in the mirror and Eddie can’t help the smile that breaks out. If someone had told him this was how he’d be spending the early hours of his first Thanksgiving without Wayne, he would have laughed in their face.

When he returns to the room a few minutes later, Steve’s back on the bed, the thin sheet doing little to cover his lower half while his torso lays on full display, light by the warm light seeping through the cracks of Eddie’s blinds as the sun rises outside.

“Hi,” Eddie whispers, suddenly shy as he slips back into bed.

“Hi,” Steve whispers back, shuffling across the bed and making himself comfortable on Eddie’s chest.

Eddie doesn’t hesitate, wrapping an arm around Steve’s bare middle before bending the other behind his own head. He looks down at Steve, slowly drinking in the look of peace on his face and the way his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks as he starves off sleep they’re both desperate for.

“How long are you in town for?” Eddie asks and mentally curses himself. Fucking Munson, just enjoy the moment!

Steve shifts, chin digging into Eddie’s solar plexus as his sleepy eyes find Eddie’s. “The weekend, at least. Maybe a few extra days.”

“Yeah?”

“I could be persuaded,” he says, reaching up to wrap a lock Eddie’s hair around his finger. “I mean, I am unemployed until January, as you so kindly pointed out.”

A part of Eddie wants to laugh, maybe even apologize for the uninspired jab from hours ago, but there’s something more important he has to do. Even if it kills him. He tries to keep his smile intact when he opens his mouth next, whispering the words as close to Steve’s ear as he can so he can’t deny hearing them.

“I’m not asking you to stay. You have to make that choice on your own, Steve. Start living your life for you.”

Steve’s smile falters, lips twitching, threatening to turn into a pout, but they don’t. Instead, he nods, and Eddie feels the weight of his confession and the fear-strikes anticipation of Steve’s reaction evaporate from his own body.

Steve nods, turning to press a chaste kiss to the same demon that’s been etched there since before Steve became his all those years ago. “I know.”

Eddie hums noncommittally and drags his fingers through Steve’s damp hair, nails lightly stretching at his scalp in the way he knows Steve loves. “So then, what do you want?”

There’s a moment of silence and Eddie watches the seven stages of grief wash over Steve’s face before he opens his mouth again. “I can promise you the weekend to start.”

It’s not the answer Eddie wanted, but it’s the one he was bracing for. He knows better than to expect Steve to make a life-changing decision in their post-coital haze. Wouldn’t want him to even if he gave him the answer he wanted. All he really needs is the truth.

“Boyfriends for the weekend?” Eddie says. The word feels foreign on his tongue and yet just right. “Does that mean I get a front-row seat to watch you ruin your dad’s life when you tell him about the fire academy?”

Steve snorts, hot air tickling Eddie’s love-bite-ridden neck. “I mean, if you want. Might make things worse, though.”

Eddie hums in agreement. The last thing he wants is to make Steve’s day even harder than it’s going to be, no matter how much he’d love to get some face-to-face time with good ol’ Dick Harrington.

“How about this,” Eddie says, turning so they’re nose to nose in bed now. “I’ll be your getaway driver. Drive you over, and when you’re ready to leave, I’ll be waiting around the bend like old times sake. And then…” He trails off, nose bumping against Steve as he peppers his freckled face with kisses and nips. “I’ll bring you back here and we can make good use of this whole boyfriends for the weekend thing.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, breathy and more of a sigh than anything else but the sentiment is there. “That sounds perfect.”

Eddie hums and pulls Steve’s lips between his in a long, lingering kiss before separating. “The only condition is I get to be the one who leaves this time when you have to come back.”

“Not forever, though, right?”

“Well, that’s up to you, babe.”

Steve nods, swooping in to give Eddie his own version of a passionate kiss. “Okay, but then we’re even.”

“Yeah, we’ll be even.”

Eddie watches the smile slowly spread across Steve’s face before he hides in the crook of his neck. Eddie presses his own grin into the mop of sweaty hair on Steve’s head as they lay there, completely intertwined from their head to their toes.

“Boyfriends for the weekend,” Steve mumbles through a yawn before finally letting his eyes flutter shut.

“And then for life,” Eddie whispers, lips pressing into Steve’s forehead before his own eyes give in to the exhaustion coursing through his body.

[international-staging]

Why Home Staging Matters: Key Benefits for Home Sellers

Selling a home can be a challenging and stressful process. One of the most effective strategies to enhance your home's appeal is home staging. Here are some key benefits that home staging can offer to home sellers.

Key Benefits of Home Staging

1. Creates a Positive First Impression

Home staging ensures that your property makes a strong first impression on potential buyers.

A well-staged home highlights the best features and makes the space more inviting.

2. Helps Buyers Visualize the Space

When a home is professionally staged, it allows buyers to visualize how they can use the space.

International Staging provides expert services that arrange furniture and décor to maximize the appeal of each room.

3. Increases Perceived Value

Staged homes often appear more valuable and well-maintained compared to unstaged ones.

By using home staging, you can potentially increase your home's market value.

4. Speeds Up the Selling Process

Homes that are staged typically spend less time on the market.

International Staging ensures that your home stands out, leading to quicker sales.

5. Justifies the Asking Price

A staged home can justify a higher asking price as it appears more desirable.

Buyers are more likely to see the true potential of the property when it's presented in the best possible light.

Conclusion

Investing in home staging can significantly benefit home sellers by creating a positive first impression, helping buyers visualize the space, increasing the perceived value, speeding up the selling process, and justifying the asking price. For expert home staging services, consider partnering with International Staging to ensure your home is showcased at its best.

[smoothies-are-cool]

kiss me thru the phone

boyfriend! matt sturniolo x reader

summary: reader and matt do long distance until reader surprises him on tour.

warnings: swearing, pet names (baby, beautiful), kissing.

a/n: i love this song ❤️❤️

READERS POV

“i miss your beautiful face.” my boyfriend, matt says.

we were on facetime because he moved to los angeles with his brothers to pursue their career. we met in middle school in boston and i still live there.

“you’re looking at it.” i giggle.

“i know but i miss kissing it. hopefully i’ll get to see you while we’re in boston.” he says. matt and his brothers were about to go on their second tour. little did matt know, i had tickets to the boston show AND the des moines show in iowa.

pretend there was a boston show on the versus tour.

“i know baby. even if you don’t have to time to stop home i’ll camp outside the venue even if i’m able to see you for only a minute.” i tell him.

“kiss me through the phone.” matt randomly says.

“what?” i ask, making sure i heard him right.

“kiss me through the phone, come on.” he repeats, moving his lips closer to the phone. i giggle and do the same.

4 days later

📍des moines, iowa

“okay and before we go we have one more person we want to come out and say a few words.” nick says into the microphone, grabbing another microphone from one of the venue workers. nick and chris were in on the secret.

matt sends chris a confused look and chris just shrugs.

“i’d like to welcome y/n l/n to the stage!” nick smiles and the crowd goes crazy as i walk out onto the stage. i wave to the crowd before locking eyes with matt. he stands there, his eyes wide and his mouth open. chris quickly grabs matt’s microphone as matt makes his way towards me.

“you’re here.” he says softly.

“congrats on the win baby.” i smile. matt pulls me into him and places a quick kiss on my lips. we keep it brief because we’re on stage.

“okay let me talk.” i whisper pulling away as nick hands me the second microphone.

“okay hi everyone! i want to apologize now for any stuttering or anything i’ve never spoke in front of a crowd this big. if you don’t know me, hi i’m y/n, matt’s girlfriend.” i speak and the crowd screams. chris, nick and matt make their way to my sides.

“these boys mean so much to me. like more than words could explain. i’m gonna tell the story on how we met, but i’m gonna keep it brief because i could talk about it for literal hours. i actually met chris first. we were in the same class in second grade and we were both alone at recess so we just became friends with each other. chris has been the person i went to for anything from that moment on. he was the first person i told about my huge crush on matt.” i say, giggling softly.

“he has always supported me through everything and when i was in the wrong he always told me so i really appreciate that.” i look at chris as i say this, pulling him into a hug.

“woo i will probably end up crying so ignore that. nick is genuinely the love of my life.” i say, laughing when i see matt’s offended look. “all jokes aside, i know nick would do anything to protect me and he has done anything to protect me. i remember this one time a guy wouldn’t leave me alone and when he tried to pull me to his car nick literally tackled him.” i said, causing the crowd to laugh.

“i really appreciate everything you do for me.” i hug nick and move to stand next to matt.

“oh god matt where do i start.” i mutter softly. “my crush started on matt during the summer of 8th grade. we didn’t end up getting together until senior year but that’s besides the point.”

“seeing matt grow up and over come his fears makes me so proud. i remember when he would never order his own food and now he’s talking to and standing in front of thousands of people everyday. so i’m really proud of him for that. i remember when i realized that i was in love with matt. i have a little sister and one time she fell and when i had turned around to help her matt was already helping her. and then he cleaned up the cut on her knee and put a bandaid on it. i don’t know why but that was when i realized i was in love with him. matt is my best friend and lover all in one. he knows me like the back of his hand and he can so easily read my emotions.” my eyes slowly start to fill with tears and matt wraps his arms around my waist from behind me.

“i don’t have much time left so i have to word this strategically. the fact that they’re just three boys from massachusetts is crazy to me. i don’t think they’ve realized how many people they’ve helped, including myself. these three boys right here are living proof that dreams do come true and you can do it so don’t let anyone tell you differently. they are my people, the one ones i actually want to be around and the ones i would do anything for. and i want this forever.” i say, my voice cracking as tears falling down my cheeks. i notice nick and chris both have tears too.

“nick, matt, chris. i’m so beyond proud of you and i love you more than life itself. i’m so grateful that i met you guys because i would not have made it today without you guys.” i speak, my voice cracking. i see matt’s eyes have tears but he’s trying to not let them fall. we all do a big group hug, say goodbye to the crowd and walk off stage.

i gasp softly as matt pulls me back into him. his arms go around my waist and mine go around his shoulders.

“you okay matt?” i ask. he doesn’t respond and i feel hot tears on my shoulder.

“baby..” i say softly, pulling him impossibly closer.

“i’m really glad you’re here.” he tells me, pulling away but he keeps his arms around me.

“surprise!” i giggle as he places his lips on mine.

yn.ln

🏷️ christophersturniolo 🏷️ nicolassturniolo

🏷️ matthew.sturniolo

liked by: mattandynfp27894 , christophersturniolo and 154,927 others

yn.ln - so beyond proud of my boys <3

65,204 comments

matthew.sturniolo - i love you so much

↳ yn.ln - i love you more.

user - her speech that she gave 🥹🥹

christophersturniolo - tried so hard to keep it together during your speech. love you always ❗️

↳ yn.ln - love you chris 🧡

user - the way they all cried during her speech. they all mean so much to each other.

*liked by yn.ln*

nicolassturniolo - my mf soulmate. I LOVE YOU FOREVER

↳ yn.ln - I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU 💜

matthew.sturniolo - so lucky to have you ❤️

↳ yn.ln - you mean so much to me ❤️❤️

a/n: hi !

[babychosen]

amangela meetcute for your prompts

word count: 1025

After finishing a Moon Goon performance, Angela and a few of the group members stayed back in the audience and chatted with a few friends that came to support them. By the time they finished talking, it was nearly time for the next scheduled show to start, so she rushed backstage to gather her things and get the hell out of the theater.

Angela hated getting in the way of the next performers because she knew how cramped the dressing room at UCB could get in between shows. 

She scurried backstage and paused in the doorway of the dressing room, trying to recall where she left her jacket and bag. She scanned the room while she weaved around the new performers, casually exchanging greetings with a few familiar faces. Her eyes landed on the couch near the back of the room, and she saw the faintest shine of her leather jacket draped across the back of the couch.

Angela made a mental note to remind herself to wear her glasses more often because it took way too long, and way too much squinting just to find her belongings in the small room.

After Angela was done talking to a few performers in the room, someone sat down on the couch right in front of her jacket. She froze in her spot. Great, Angela thought. Now she had to go through the awkward confrontation of telling this person they were sitting on her jacket.

She looked a little harder, just to see if she recognized the person. Angela gulped after taking in their appearance; now she had to ask the most gorgeous stranger she’s ever seen to move so she could get her jacket.

Angela fidgeted in place and thought about it. Surely she didn’t need her jacket, right? She could just go home and then get it the next time she’s there… right? Her jacket had her car keys in it, and she sure as hell wasn’t taking the bus home from downtown Hollywood… so her options were very limited.

Like ripping off a band-aid, Angela crossed the room and stood in front of the woman. “Hey, so,” Angela started, pausing for a little too long.

“Hey! Angela, right?” The woman asked, a wide smile on her face. She gestured for Angela to take a seat beside her. “I’m Amanda.”

“Uh-” Angela cleared her throat. “Yeah, that’s me. How’d you know?” Angela sat down, feeling herself being pulled in by Amanda.

“Dude, you’re practically famous around here. You’re like, UCB royalty,” Amanda scoffed, chuckling at Angela’s modesty.

Angela knew she had made a name for herself in the LA comedy scene, but it felt surreal hearing it from someone she was so immediately drawn to.

“I’m kinda new to LA, just moved here from Boston last year,” Amanda explained. Angela hadn’t asked about who this woman was, but she was definitely curious. “I’ve been trying my luck down here with auditions, but it’s a tough crowd.”

The same pull that brought her to sit down beside Amanda, led her to want to offer Amanda support. “If you ever need help with making connections, let me know. I know my way around these parts pretty well,” Angela offered genuinely.

Amanda raised her eyebrows and shyly smiled. “I-I wouldn’t mind being shown around.” 

Amanda looked Angela up and down, and Angela couldn’t tell if she was imagining it being suggestive or if it actually was suggestive—either way, she wasn’t mad about it.

They were taken out of their bubble when people started clearing out of the room, and it was obvious that their conversation had to come to an end.

“I’ll see you later?” Amanda questioned, standing up from the couch.

Angela nodded excitedly with a tight-lipped smile, and then watched Amanda walk away from her. Amanda paused in the doorway to turn around and wave goodbye to the woman still glued to the couch.

She stared at the door for longer than she needed to, going over the conversation in her head. Angela was flattered and awestruck, and she had butterflies in her stomach.

Finally, she stood up from the couch, grabbed her jacket and bag and made her way towards the stage exit door. Once outside in the cool night air, Amanda’s words dawned on her—see you later. Later… when? After the show? At another encounter determined by fate? The instructions were unclear and Angela’s critical thinking skills weren’t kicking in.

In her panic, she spent the next hour walking around the neighbourhood, stopping by an ice cream shop, and hanging out around the stage door, waiting for Amanda to be done with her show. 

Near the one hour mark she began pacing outside of the stage door. Just ask her. Ask for her number. It’s fucking easy, Angela thought to herself.

In a blur, the stage door bursted open and Amanda came storming out—or at least it felt like it all happened that dramatically to Angela.

“Yeah-uh, yeah. I'm still here. Yep. Sure am,” Angela stuttered, cutting herself off before she could make a complete fool of herself.

“Oh, hey! I didn’t think you would still be here,” Amanda beamed, shoving her hands into her jeans pockets and walking up to Angela. She looked even more stunning than she did an hour earlier, Angela noted.

“There’s a bar around the corner. You free?” Amanda raised an eyebrow and the corner of her lips curled up into a smile. Angela knew exactly which bar Amanda was referring to.

First she got out of having to ask Amanda to move so she could get her jacket, and now she just got out of having to ask for her number—and she’s going out for drinks with her? Yeah, okay, Angela wasn’t going to say no. She smirked and started taking steps backwards from Amanda in the direction of the bar.

“Shall we?” Angela asked confidently, waiting for Amanda to follow.

“We shall,” Amanda drawled, jokingly holding out her hand for Angela to take. Angela graciously took her hand and led Amanda towards the bar, beginning what she had a feeling was going to be an amazing night.

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 31

read on ao3! (143k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Series tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Series synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Word count: 3.6k

Chapter 31:

Juliet’s POV:

“Get behind me,” Joel mouthed to her, not daring to make a sound as they approached the seemingly abandoned cabin in the middle of the winter wasteland of Wyoming. 

Not wanting an argument, Juliet stepped into line behind him with her gun held firm in her hands. Joel’s horse was loosely tied to the gate at the edge of the property and Juliet prayed that he would stay quiet. 

She released a heavy breath and watched it form a hazy cloud in front of her, barely visible anymore in the darkening light. 

Ahead of her, Joel’s movements were quick and stiff as he walked up the rickety wooden steps towards the door. Juliet was his shadow, standing so close to him that she could almost feel the heat from his body through the layers of their jackets.

Her heart beat quickly in her chest but, as always when she was with Joel, her fear was diluted by her feverish trust in his ability to keep them safe. 

The handle, caught in Joel’s firm grip, turned easily and Juliet held her next breath. 

With a quick look behind him at Juliet’s wide eyes, Joel pushed the door open and stepped inside with silent footsteps. 

His torch was on, circling the small dark room. It illuminated a dusty fireplace with two worn couches facing it, then as Joel took another step, she could see a small kitchen at the back with a chipped hardwood counter and a wall of peeling red paint. 

The cabin was so small that in one sweep Joel was able to lower his shotgun ever so slightly and turn back to Juliet with a nod. 

She stepped in cautiously behind him, still stiff with remaining fear. With her own torch, Juliet scanned the other side of the room. Her breath caught when she noticed the handle of a cleverly concealed door against the back wall. 

It looked like a closet, so Juliet walked towards it, tucked her torch under her arm and turned the brass handle. The door creaked when it opened and, from the corner of her eye, Juliet saw Joel’s head whip towards her from the other side of the room. 

“Wait,” he cautioned as he began to move towards her, rounding the couches. 

But it was too late, the door was open. 

And it wasn’t a closet. 

The smell hit her instantly and Juliet was back in the Boston QZ, surrounded by piles of bodies in various stages of decomposition waiting to get thrown into the firepit. 

Her head swung back like she’d been punched as her eyes began to water and, through the mist of her rotten stench induced tears, Juliet peered into the small bedroom and spotted the source of the smell lying on the bed. 

Joel was at her back, practically leaning over her shoulder with his shotgun raised, when she noticed the other body. 

This one wasn’t lying on the bed. 

This one was on its feet, barrelling towards them in sharp, jerky movements. 

Juliet’s breath had barely caught in her throat before it didn’t have a head anymore. 

She whipped her body around to face Joel as he slowly lowered his shotgun to rest against his side. 

He towered over her with his usual broad, imposing presence. Caught in the small gap between the wall and the doorway, Juliet felt as his breath brushed against her face. 

His jaw was hard but his eyes were harder. 

“Don’t open anymore fuckin’ doors,” he ground out before stepping backwards and doing another sweep of the cabin. 

Juliet swallowed and turned back around to take one last look into the room, her eyes lingered on the way the body on the bed was placed. Its hands, while almost skeletal now, had clearly been positioned on top of each other, and what was left of its hair was arranged to rest carefully on the pillow underneath. 

Juliet blinked then forced herself to turn away and shut the door before she caught sight of the second body, and what was left of its head. 

She hoped that, when the time came, someone would have the care to arrange her body into a peaceful position, to give her some dignity in the end. 

Juliet looked down at the gun in her hand and, all at once, a reminder of every bullet she had ever shot came rushing through her head. 

She scoffed. Who was she kidding? Juliet didn’t deserve dignity. 

When the time came, she’d be lucky if someone had the decency to shut the door on the splattered mess of her body. 

…………………..

With his horse safely tucked in the shed outside the cabin, Joel shuffled in and slammed the door behind him with some help from the storm that raged outside. 

The wind had picked up, along with the snow, forming the early stages of what might become a worrying blizzard. 

Juliet sat on the couch opposite the barren fireplace. Her torch sat on the coffee table, illuminating the supplies she had spread across the surface. 

With Tommy’s help, they had enough food to last their journey… whatever it may bring. 

She didn’t tell Ethan she was leaving, didn’t tell Charlotte either. 

Juliet asked that Tommy tell them that he had sent her and Joel on an extended patrol, to search a nearby town and that they wouldn’t be back for at least a few weeks. Juliet didn’t know if she could look in Ethan’s face and tell him that she was going back to their nightmare. Juliet knew that he would insist that he come too, and she couldn’t do that to him. He had barely got out of her father’s town alive the first time.

Juliet had done what she had set out to do, back when she first showed up at her shift partner’s door and struck a deal which involved far more than they had ever intended…

Juliet had saved Ethan and given him a second chance at life. She saw how happy he looked at the dance, twirling Charlotte around with a grin shining on his face.

She couldn’t allow her never ending baggage to dampen that even slightly. 

Her mind was a splattered canvas; shades of guilt, fear and a plethora of trauma darkened every inch. 

But this journey would clear it. Finding out what happened to her parents, how she ended up caught in Eilijah’s web… discovering whether or not she would become like him one day… that would solve everything. 

Maybe then, she’d be able to look at Joel and see a future for herself, rather than another victim for her dark edges to cling to. 

“Everythin’ alright?” Joel asked cautiously as she stopped next to the couch she sat on. 

Juliet wiped a cold hand down her face, then turned, blinking up at him. 

“Yeah,” she sighed, nodding to the food on the table. “Take your pick.” 

Joel eyed her a second longer then reached down to lift a wrapped sandwich and dropped himself beside her on the couch. 

He started eating immediately, looking almost ravenous as he devoured Jackson’s finest home cooking. 

Between bites, he turned to her and nodded towards the other sandwich on the table. “You better eat somethin’” he said with a warning tone. 

Juliet wouldn’t be surprised if he force fed her if she refused. 

She leaned forward, grabbing a sandwich of her own and biting into it. 

It tasted like ash in her mouth, but she chewed and swallowed, savouring the feeling of fullness it brought her even if her mind was too heavy to appreciate the taste. 

The smell of the rotting bodies in the next room didn’t help either, but Juliet was used to pretending she didn’t smell decomposing flesh. 

She watched as Joel sniffed and his eyes squinted slightly. 

“Reminds me of Boston,” Juliet said quietly. 

Joel’s eyes landed on her face with the force of a hard punch. He looked as though years of memories were flashing across his mind. 

It seemed that, for a second, he might voice whatever thoughts crossed his mind. Instead, he grunted out an agreement and went back to eating the last bite of his food. 

Juliet finished hers and sat the wrapper on the table then leaned back on the couch, dropped her head back, and crossed her arms over her chest. 

Even with her eyes closed, she knew when Joel turned his attention to her. She felt it in the trailed heat on her skin. 

His words from a few nights before played on a loop in her head. Standing outside the mess hall, her mind hazy from the drinks and Joel’s body pressed against her’s. He’d told her that he had lied, that he was wrong and that he couldn’t stay away. Joel had told her that he wasn’t going to let her go again, and that was why he was here, on this ‘suicide mission’ as he’d called it. 

And he’d said all of that, after assaulting her friend in some fit of jealousy.

It was always like that with Joel; violence was wrapped around every emotion. Words were second to what could be said with a stiff punch and a gunshot. 

He wasn’t violent with her, not really. Though so many of their interactions had left her gasping for breath and fearful for her recovery. 

Juliet’s eyes opened and her head rolled to the side, towards Joel. In the low light of the torch, his eyes were black as they stared down at her with a questioning look. 

Maybe it was the dark atmosphere of the cabin, or the fact that it was only them for miles (if you didn’t count the horse and the two corpses in the next room)… but Juliet felt compelled to ask the question which had puzzled her since the dance. 

“What did Matt say to you the other night?” she paused, then added, “before you punched him.” 

Joel’s eyes widened slightly and Juliet watched as he reached forward to sit his wrapper on the table before leaning back on the couch, matching Juliet’s posture. 

Juliet had asked him this same question after it had happened and Joel responded by insisting that Matt couldn’t protect her. But surely he had to have said something to trigger that reaction from Joel, however unwarranted it was. 

Joel’s eyebrows scrunched as though he was battling with himself, deciding whether or not to respond. 

Suddenly he sighed and his eyes dropped to her lips before meeting her inquisitive look again. 

“Didn’t say a damn thing,” Joel replied, his voice was cautious like every word was a struggle to get out. 

Juliet blinked, confused. 

Joel ran a hand over his jaw, then found her eyes again. “I was at the bar and here he comes walkin over with all this confidence, like he’d won you in a fuckin’ competition or somethin,” he ground out, then let out another slow breath as his fingers drummed against his arm. 

“All I could see was the way he had his arms wrapped around you earlier that night,” Joel cut himself off with a shake of his head as his fingers stopped tapping and his hand curled into a fist. 

Then he continued with a shrug. “Decided I wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face.”

Joel looked away, staring intently at the fireplace in front of them. 

Without the deep rumble of his voice, the wind battering off the window was the only sound to be heard.

Until Juliet began to laugh. 

At first, she tried to disguise it as a cough but by the time Joel’s head whipped towards her there were tears dripping down her face.

“I knew you were fucking jealous,” she coughed out between laughs, her whole body shaking. 

Joel’s eyes widened and his eyebrows drew together. His face was stone, not a single crack showed. 

Until his hand was over her mouth and the other under her chin as he tilted her face up to meet his. 

Her laughter stopped the second his skin touched hers. 

The edge of his mouth turned upwards as he scanned her eyes. He looked almost proud of his actions. 

“You want me to admit I was jealous?” he challenged, “that what you wanna hear?” 

With his hand still covering her mouth, Juliet could only nod in response. 

His expression darkened. 

“I’m jealous of any man who even looks in your direction, Juliet,” he breathed in a thick murmur, as though his words were too private for even the wind to hear. “I wanna tear out their fuckin’ throats.” 

Juliet swallowed. There was that violence again. 

“I told you that night that you were mine,” he reminded her. “Stayin away from you was only gonna get myself or someone else killed.” 

Juliet ached to close the gap between them, to twist herself around until she sat firmly on his thighs, until her mouth was on his. 

Joel looked as though he would hear every thought in her head and his thumb began to swipe under her chin, savouring the way she trembled beneath his touch. 

“But I also told ya that we were gonna do this right,” he said quietly, then after a moment, he released his grip on her, turned, and sat back against the couch. 

Juliet didn’t miss the way his breathing had grown heavy. 

“What if I don’t want to do this right?” she whispered, throwing his words back at him.

Her thumping heartbeat was rushing in her ears. She shouldn’t be doing this. There’s too much in her head, there was too much going on. 

But in that moment, Joel was all she could focus on. 

The hold he had on her was frightening. From that first day in the QZ when he’d scanned her up and down and looked away with what looked like anger darkening his face… Joel had lodged himself in her mind. 

“What are you so afraid of?” she breathed, her voice almost pleading. 

A muscle jumped in Joel’s jaw as his eyes met hers in a sharp movement. 

“You really do have a death wish, don’t you?” he scolded, then ran a hand over his face again.

This time, when his hand left his chin, it didn’t drop to rest on his leg. Instead, in a lightning quick movement, Joel’s hands were under Juliet’s legs and he dragged her onto his lap, with her legs wrapped around his middle and her arms slung over her shoulders. 

Juliet gasped but she couldn’t deny the excitement that pulsed through her. 

Joel was dangerous and unpredictable and god, did Juliet love when he surprised her. 

“This what you want, huh?” he demanded in a growl against her neck. 

Juliet threw her head back as his lips traced her skin. 

“You want me like this?” he continued to mutter when his lips weren’t attached to her throat. “You want me under you, showin’ you just how much I want you?” Joel taunted as he moved Juliet tighter on his hips, until she felt exactly how much he wanted her.

Juliet had no words. Fire flowed through her veins. She was able to form a single thought, and the most she could utter was a few gentle moans. 

Joel laughed at her speechlessness. 

“Fuck, baby. You should’ve known you’ve had me this whole time,” he confessed as he ground himself against her and grunted at the feeling. 

“When you showed up at my door,” he paused to grip her chin with his strong fingers and tilt her lips down to hover over his, “demandin’ that I take you across the country… I thought I was dreamin’.” 

“Everyday on shift I had to watch you smilin’ and laughin’ with everyone but me. I’d convinced myself that you were a nuisance, some silly girl I wanted nothin’ to do with.”

Juliet wasn’t breathing. She hadn’t even realised he’d noticed her back in the QZ. 

“But I woulda got on my knees if it meant you’d send one of them smiles my way,” he revealed.  “And then you were there, at my door, wantin’ somethin’ from me. I couldn’t fuckin’ believe it.” 

Juliet wet her lips and tried to remember how to form a coherent thought. 

“I always thought you hated me,” she whispered so close to his lips. 

Joel’s jaw clenched as the line between his eyebrows deepened. 

“I tried to,” he confessed. “would’ve been so much easier.” 

His finger reached up to brush through the lock of her hair that had fallen over his face. 

Joel’s hips bucked upwards again and Juliet lost it. She was done waiting. 

Juliet closed the gap between them. Her lips found his just as they had outside the mess hall, in a feverish madness. 

His mouth was burning hot and his hands had a mind of their own. As his tongue entered her mouth, his hands cradled her skull, pulling at her hair until Juliet pressed herself closer to him, grinding on his need for her. 

Her moans here battling against the roar of the wind, and Joel responded with his own grunts which sent heat straight to her core. 

His hands danced down her back and kneaded her thighs, always looking for some part of her to touch. 

When Juliet reached down to palm him through his jeans, Joel’s head dropped to the back of the couch and Juliet watched in the low light as the lines on his face seemed to lose their prominence. 

His eyes were black when they met hers again.  

Joel’s mouth opened and he looked as though he wanted to say something but nothing came out, he just kept staring as Juliet began to move to unbutton his jeans.

Then a hand circled her wrist, stopping her. 

“No,” he breathed. 

“What? Why?” Juliet demanded breathlessly, trying to remember where they were and who she was as she came down from the haze he had trapped her in.

Joel leaned forward and dropped his face into the space between her neck and shoulder, then he inhaled deeply.

“I’m not fucking you on this couch, Juliet,” he ground out slowly, as though the words pained him. 

Disappointment was a blade in her chest. But as the world around her returned, Juliet realised that maybe he was right, maybe this wasn’t the right time. Didn’t mean she didn’t want to, and from the evidence beneath her, it was clear that Joel felt the same. 

The wind and snow attacked the window and her head whipped towards it, sending a shiver down her spine. 

“We better get some sleep,” he said like it was the last thing he wanted to do. 

Juliet eased off his lap and back onto the space beside him on the couch, and Joel eased an arm around her shoulders and moved his chin to rest on top of her head.  

The sense of familiarity in his movements made Juliet’s eyes prick with tears. 

“I kinda missed this,” she murmured against his chest, “just us, out here alone.” 

Joel’s lips brushed across her hair. “Yeah, me too,” he agreed. 

Juliet listened to Joel’s heartbeat as she fell asleep. Somehow, in a cabin in the middle of a blizzard, with two corpses in the next room, Juliet had never felt safer. 

Joel’s POV:

He woke with the winter sun. 

From the window he could see that outside was a dazzling white, almost blinding to his tired eyes. 

Maybe it was because sleep still soaked his subconscious, but Joel’s mind conjured up memories of Sarah looking out the kitchen window and screaming with an excitement that could only come from witnessing fresh, untouched snow and the promise of a day off school. 

When he blinked the memory disappeared and Sarah’s voice was nothing more than a haunting  sound still ringing in his mind, replaced by another scream at the mercy of a soldier’s gun. 

Without disturbing Juliet who still slept against his chest, Joel reached a hand up to wipe over his face, brushing away any memory which would make it impossible for him to find any will to go on. 

He blinked again and his eyes found Juliet’s hand curled around his shirt, tucked under his jacket. A smile almost tugged at his mouth. She really was something. 

When she slept, Joel always thought she looked so peaceful, like nothing could dare disturb that gentle look on her face. 

But he knew peace wasn’t a reality for Juliet, or for him. 

Joel had thought she had found it in Jackson. He was ready to let her go if it meant that she was happy. 

Joel flinched when that image of the scar on her torso flashed in his mind. A wave of nausea rose when he remembered the sight of her still body in that chair with her blood soaked top. 

He wished every fucking day that he had killed her father slower. That he had made him feel the same pain that she had felt her whole fucking life. 

Joel’s hand curled into a fist against his jeans.

If this suicide mission they were on would finally bring Juliet some peace, Joel was willing to risk his own life to get her there, to find those answers she needed. 

But if she got hurt again… Joel would never forgive himself for letting her leave Jackson. 

His terror for Juliet’s safety was eating him alive. 

He’d let it slip last night, some idea of how he felt about her. 

But Juliet didn’t have any idea. 

She might run screaming if she knew exactly how much he cared about her. Joel didn’t even think there were words to express it. 

Maybe when they got back from this alive, he’d find that farmhouse he told her about all those months ago.

Together, living in a farmhouse away from everyone and everything, raising sheep… that was the peace he wanted to make a reality. 

Maybe then he’d let himself be selfish. 

Maybe then he’d tell her that he was madly in love with her. 

Maybe then he might be able to deserve her. 

------------------------

@amyispxnk @casa-boiardi @http-paprika @shotgun-shelby @weeping-werewolf @mysaviorjoelmiller @chlojoceycom

[tookthe-405]

On our way

Flashback 1: We were younger…

(I wanted some more backstory I’m sorryyy)

DAILY CLICK 🇵🇸

DONATIONS 🍉

(Not so loserish)ellie x fem!reader

a/n: some fluffy flashback from when they were 14 to give some happiness :)

Max and Chloe coded!! (Just realised that wtf)

put my whole childhood homoromantic friendship into this 😪

RILEY MENTIONED!?? they did you dirty my love

c/w: compulsive heterosexuality?!(not much though), a chicken heart?😭, a bit of fighting (ofc!), jealousyyyy, panic attack (yes again)

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

(Reader and Ellie are 14)

(4 years ago)

Readers pov:

9/14

Whatever negative, people say about eighth grade, it's true. Eighth grade sucks. Seventh grade is manageable. Sixth grade? fine but Eighth grade was a new level you didn't know you had to go through. Few weeks in and its already a nightmare for you and all your friends. Thank god you found some.

When you got into middle school a few years ago, you and ellie managed to persuade joel to send ellie to the same school as you. Which wasn't a hard decision for him, because in a small town in Boston, he didn't have that many options.

But you didn't get into the same class, which was quite scary for you at first. Ellie, on the other hand, is good at talking to people, sometimes a bit too well, and then she says things that she should probably have kept to herself.

However, you had problems at the beginning of the 5th grade. The fear of being rejected by people you studied with for a years had haunted you.

Some of the classes were mixed together and you still remember how quickly you scanned the room, so you could find ellie to sit next to her, and unsurprised there were a few people around her laughing. You stood next the crowd, too shy to get Ellie's attention. She didn't notice you at all at first, but talked and laughed with the classmates around her.

That was the first time you felt afraid of losing her to people who are more In so many patterns. For a few seconds, you just stood there and watched her. Her easy-going but also attentive nature, which attracted people like the light a moth.

It was like magic.

She played with the feelings and laughter like water. Light in her hands, without meaning and purely out of feelings, but so careful. This was her stage, she was in her element, and you would always just sit in the audience, with an astonished and envious gaze.

But then she saw you and brought a gap through the crowd to show you that she had secured a free seat for you, with her backpack.

But today it is no longer the case. Eighth grade is a lot of shit, but you've finally made friends in the meantime. For a matter of fact, you're talking to one right now, but you're too engulfed in your thoughts.

"Hellooo you still there?"

Your body stiffens and you quickly turn away from the window, into the direction of Isabella .

"What?" you completely forgot that you are currently in biology and In the company of a friend… and that you still needed to finish a partner project.

Isabella giggles softly.

“You’re always doing that, what is your head thinking about?”

she playfully taps your forehead with her index finger. You grin slightly and wipe her finger out off your face.

“Nothing I’m okay”

“I Hope so because we Are supposed to dissect a chicken heart and not stare out the window”

A glance at the table and there is the chicken heart she’s talking about.

“Yeah no thank you” you say with a grimace that makes her laugh.

“It’s okay we can google the tasks at home, this is torture.” She sighs, puts the lid over the heart and takes of her gloves, you do the same nodding.

“So” she turns to you again with that curious grin of hers.

“What have you been daydreaming about the past few days?”

You let out a nervous laugh and wave your hand in the air.

"nothing what am I supposed to dream about, so…"

She raises her eyebrows reproachfully, she knows how you lie.

"You don't have to tell me, but is it a certain someone who starts with E?"

Your blood freezes with shock, but also respectful fear, of her alleged knowledge.

"what i don't know who you mean" Sweat forms on your palms and you quickly rub them together so that they don't Stupidly betraye you.

"I guess I hit the bull's eye, I knew you liked him?" Your forehead frown on its own and your stress sweat turn into anxiety sweat.

"Him?"

Isabella nods. "Eliza, you like him… Right"

The first two letter almost give you a heart attack but then you just frown at her.

she seems confused by your confusion, you turn around slow, as you are sitting in the first row, to stare at the boy in the last corner.

He just laughed and pressed the chicken heart into his sitting partner's face.

Ew.

Isabella doesn't seem to notice how disgusted you are, because she gives you a promising and excited look. Something pushes you to lie, you couldn't control it even if you tried.

"Yes, that's it" a sad smile on your face as you say the words.

Before she can react, the door is opened in a loud swing and ellie is standing in the doorway, grinning, behind her a few boys and girls.

"Hey" she gives you a warm smile that you knwo all to well, her arms resting on the table.

Then she looks up at Isabella emotionlessly.

"Isabella"

"Ellie" she replies dryly.

Yes, the two don't like each other very much. Then ellie's smile turned, quickly, sending it back to you.

"Aren’t you done yet?"

"No, young lady, they are not, and you knock before you come in" Ms. Perlow's voice booms through the room.

Any normal student would be scared, which justifies this woman is scary, but ellie isn’t sacred at all.

Grinning, she raises her arms in the air, as if she’s been caught stealing. A few children giggle at her gesture, but the older woman doesn't think it's so funny.

"Ellie, it's the same every time, you make a clown out of yourself for God's sake, leave this task to the boys"

Mrs. Perlow looks away for a moment to massage her temples with her thumbs and pointing fingers, which you felt a bit sorry for, she was soo old. Ellie of course doesn’t care.

She quickly rummages for something in her jacket pocket and nimbly presses a small piece of paper into your hand.

"Okay, till next time, Mrs. Perlow," she calls into the room before disappearing out the door.

"I hope not," the teacher murmurs audibly, however, and whispers break out again, in the classroom.

Your fingers try quickly and unevenly to open the note.

Meet me at the new dinner down the street, I’ve got news and please don’t bring Isabella along

- your favourite person ever

P.S your hair looks pretty :)

With each step, you tousle the autumn leaves on the ground. It was kind of fun though, so you didn't stop, the scurrying sound of the dead plants in your ear.

Ellie mentioned a new dinner, which you have already drove by once with joel. After a few weeks ago, you passed by the former tourist center, which was soon to be renovated into a dinner.

Ellie thought it was better right away, because there is no one who wants to look around here in a small town Beverly farms. The eastern side of Beverly wasn't really interesting, she was right, but you always thought the little town was cute.

Here is everything you need and you have the sea right in front of your nose.

As you walk down the street with your backpack on your back, you think about what Ellie must have meant by "ive got news".

Before you know it, you'll be standing in front of the new store. "Seth's dinner". It actually looks very cozy, the light inside seems warm and a few people have already become aware of the place.

It seems to you just in autumn, very hopeful? A new beginning that is going well, a small but beautiful change in this small town. When you open the door, the door snorts cold from the air, the pleasant air surrounds your face.

There also seems to be a bar, graceful bottles on the wall and behind the counter. But otherwise it seems to be a normal dinner. Greasy smell of fries, burgers and beacons in the air, but on the order table it is written (in beautiful handwriting) that there should also be donuts and pancakes in the morning. In the evening, the bar opens.

At the counter, an older man is eyeing you, who is drying a glass. You've never seen him before, and he looks spooky right away.

Your head turns in every direction until you see the waving hand of Ellie, who had held a seat across from her in a corner of the table. It looks a bit like the dinners in Joel's old movies.

With a loud noise, you drop your bag and sit down opposite her. You let out a tired sigh, but then you notice Ellie's excited look. You shrug your shoulders uninformed.

"What?"

"Wait, I want to order before I tell you"

Her legs were constantly wriggling with hustle and bustle and you can't help but smile a little. The waiter came to your table and you two ordered 2 fries.

"Okay, tell me now" you say

Something good releases in your chest, you suppress the distracting feeling before it could reach the surface. The sparkle on ellie's face made you nervous in various ways.

"Okay, but promise me you won't be angry, ok?"

Okay, so the bad nervous feelings won. You strain straighter, ready for whatever might come your way.

"How old are we ellie, you don't always have to say that, when you've done something"

Ellie laughs so bright, that sound that you appreciate so much every time, as if it gives you water just before you dry out.

"remember how We wanted to go fishing with Joel this weekend"

You shake your head.

"You wanted this, not me ellie"

"yes, anyway, and you know Riley, don't you? From my English course"

Your shoulders slumped, just as you were about to answer, your order arrived. The old man from the counter. You automatically avoid eye contact. As he quietly, almost like a ghost, puts down the plates in front of you, he stops abruptly and stares at ellie's legs.

"Can you stop fidgeting like that, it drives me crazy"

His voice is exactly how you imagined it, rough, a little hollow somehow and he sounds like he's been a smoker for 10 years.

Ellie looks after him with a pissed expression on her face and starts shaking her legs even more out of provocation.

"Whatever, Riley wanted to come this time and her parents allowed it, isn't that cool"

You're not as enraptured by the idea as Ellie is and you tap with the tips of your fingers, and an unpleasant feeling in your stomach, on the table a little rhythm.

Ellie's foot bumps against yours and you look up at her even before she grabs your hand.

"Now I understand what the old man means, it really makes you nervous" she Chuckles and you just feel her hand for a moment. It lightens yours gently, but not considerately, as physical contact is normal between you.

Or at least it should be. But her fingertips triggered a wave of heat that spread to your face like wildfire.

You quickly flinch back, worried that Ellie might feel your pulse, which beats very erratically. Your thoughts are circling around, unsure if the feeling is positive or negative. It feels… nice? Exciting and it's directly addictive, you feel your inner self wanting to reach for more, but an indecent anxiety accompanies you every time you allow yourself to think this far.

"so you don't like idea huh?"

Your head goes up. Shes the same as always, reddish hair, green eyes, those freckles… Ellie's own gaze has descended. You never wanted to see her like that. Now you nudge her under the table with your foot.

"No, I think it's a good idea" you lie straight to her face.

The well-known grin creeps back onto her face and she stuffs a french fries into her mouth.

Then she proudly told you how she was sent to the school principal almost twice, but also about how she got a B+ in math and how the subject gets way too much hate.

You tell her that it deserves even more hate and about the weird interection with Isabella.

Ellie choked on a french chip and coughed so hard that Seth almost kicked her out. She said that she would know if you liked someone and that Isabella shouldn’t think she could be more important to you, than she really is.

This gave you a tingling feeling, so that you almost completely forgot about riley

"I don't understand your anticipation about something like that" Confused, you watch Ellie excitedly digging her fishing stuff out of the rack.

After joel voluntarily took her with him a few times, it became a little tradition and she got her own fishing set, which she takes care of like a mother.

"I like fishing and I like to eat fish, it's a perfect fit."

You're leaning your shoulder against the door of the garage when she bumps her head under joel's workbench.

“Ow”

He can't stow boxes well and safely. But there isn't much space here either, the green pick up truck, tools and the bench on which he has already built the craziest things for ellie.

"I don't get it no, I don't like the hunt and the taste of fish very much"

You always feel like an unnecessary murderer,since you kill the beings and it doesn't give you anything.

Ellie grabs her personal spare fishing line and packs it into her fisherman's backpack.

"Then you can leave the fishes you catch to me… if you catch any at all" She grins at you challengingly.

"Hey!" You point your finger at her. "I'm not that bad."

“No, I wouldn’t want to be reminded of how bad I am either, I get it." She says and you can hear her fucking smile in her voice.

"whatever ellie, i don't like it and it’s not because I’m not good at it"

"Oh no its not that your not good at it, its that your terrible at it"

Annoyed, you roll your eyes, turn around and leave Ellie in the room, but you both have a grin on your mouths. In the kitchen, Joel waits in his typical fisherman's outfit at the dining table, with a magazien about horse races.

He actually just looks like a forester. "Hey little one you ready for the trip?"

You let yourself fall across from him, on the wood table , which Joel must have built and sanded himself.

In the beginning, you had a lot of trouble with him, he was older and taller than most of the fathers you knew.

He was also a bit old to be ellie's father. Which, in the end,turned out that he wasn't. Not exactly.

That's why he was a little colder to you at the beginning, to test you. What does it take you to leave ellie, how quickly can someone get rid of you.

He wanted to know so he could protect her from it.

That's what you're understanding today.

Ellie couldn't afford to lose any more people, and you'd be lying if you said you would have done it differently in his place.

Yes, he was a bit intimidating at first, but after a few months he softened.

Now ellie worries that he loves you more than her, but you know the truth. No one could get close to ellie, just like no one would ever get close to sarah. Probably not even Ellie herself.

You really wanted to know what name would use Ellie for the both of you?

The thought of a name, It scares you both. Because it was more than friendship yet less than- "hey you okay?"

Joel and ellie stare at you.

You nod quickly and look at the clock.

”Didn’t she wanted to be here already?" Your question was more directed towards Ellie.

Then the house bell rang and your hope falls deep and painful.

Ellie's face is starting to shine again, and even though that was one of your favorite pictures, it started to annoy you very quickly the last few days.

"Wait, I forgot my gloves," she dashed up the stairs with her huge hiking backpack and her much too loud shoes.

Her nimble footsteps could be heard throughout the house. Your gaze flicks back to a very concentrated joel, who twitches his head towards the door, to make it clear to you that you should get it.

You let out a little sigh and wander extra slowly to the door, maybe she left. She didn’t.

But You can't lie, riley was pretty. and nice. clever too. It annoyed you to the bone.

"hey"

You look at her for a moment and immediately notice the backpack and the fishing rod. God ellie will love her.

"Hey come in"

You politely open the door for her, before she enters the house she quickly takes off her shoes. Jesus, good manners too.

"Riley, Welcome, we'll leave as soon as this girl finds her gloves" he laughs in his typical raspy voice.

"Don't talk about me if when not in the room," Ellie yells down and Riley giggles. "Thank you for taking me with you this time, Mr. Miller.“

You didn't know Riley, but you can tell right away that she's very intelligent and that you understand Ellie liking for her.

As much as you try to cover it up.

Joel shakes his head. "You can call me Joel"

Riley nods briefly, and Ellie shoes can be heard whizzing down the stairs again. When she sees Riley, she freezes for a moment, even though she knew she would be here.

For a moment you wondered why she did that, but then you got it.

"Hey Riley"

"Hi Ellie"

The drive to the lake was 20 minutes. And they were the worst 20 minutes of your life. Ellie wanted to sit next to riley so bad she left the front seat to you. She never does that.

From the mirror you could see the two of them laughing, talking as if they have known each other for years.

For the first time, it seemed to you that ellie wanted to share her stage with someone. It's as if she's brought someone from the audience to the stage.

And that someone wasn't you.

You didn't say a word the whole way. Not a word.

When the bluish lake was visible trough the many trees, you wanted to drown in it. Now you still want that.

The weight of your backpack bends your back right now, and ellie and riley never looked happier.

"Have you ever fished before, riley?"

you ask the tall girl.

She nods. "My grandfather used to take me on his trips sometimes."

"So cool," Ellie murmurs.

You thought everything was shit in this place. The lake looks so unwelcoming in the fall, as if it is personally trying to tell you to just give it up.

The old wood of the jetty squeaks and slips because of the humid air and you doubt the stability of the old thing. Joel prepares a place where he can fish in peace and quiet, and gives you younger people the freedom to do it on their own.

As the youngest in the group, it doesn't help that you really are bad at fishing, but you should be able to do connect the purr and the fishing rod.

Actually, you only have to manage to connect a fishing line, the rest takes care of itself.

Too bad you're so bad to make this fucking knot.

and you really try, but it just doesn't work. After a while you get too uncomfortable that you can't do it and you drop your fishing rod loudly on the wood.

Riley looks at you confused.

Joel was back at the car searching for the bait that disgusts you so much that you’re always afraid that the worms are still alive.

Ellie looks at you and stops at your bright red face. You can't read her look, you can't understand so much about what's been going on with her over the last few weeks, maybe even months.

But maybe you’re the problem too.

"Can you help Joel for a moment, we'll come right away" Ellie jerks her head in Joel's direction, as she talks to Riley.

She doesn't give you one last look before she goes past you towards the car.

The freckled girl steps forward and picks up your fishing rod, in front of you while you stare into the air like a little child.

"Whatever is going on with you today, the fishing rod really didn't deserve that"

You look downs a bit again to meet her eyes.

"What's wrong with you Ellie?"

"With me? nothing at all… What is wrong with me?"

Her shoulders tense just a little bit, but you don't miss it.

"The only thing you're talking about is riley, the only one you want to impress is riley"

Ellie takes a few steps back for some reason and looks behind you, probably at joel and riley who are still looking for the fishing lure, out of respect.

"I don't know what you mean"

You let out a snort and look at her. “I don't know you like that and it's driving me crazy"

"Why? Why can't I change, what's your problem?"

You want to seek closeness, her hand in yours to make the emotional distance disappear, but she takes a step back again when you try it.

It makes sense that she doesn't want that right now, but it still hurts incredibly how she runs away from you.

"It's not about you changing, it's good that you do, I don't care about that, but not who you do it with, Ellie" you remark.

For a second, she seems so far away, as if worlds universes separate you. In some summers, ellie and joel visit their family in texas, or drive into town for a few days. The separated time is not pretty, but neither is it gruesome.

Cause you can’t wait for her to come back, and she's just as excited about it as you are.

But I’m this moment, right now, you feel more separate from her than ever before.

"It's not always about you, I'm not your-"

Both of you weren't sure how it happened, because all of a sudden she was in the water. You don't know if you pushed her or if she fell in because of her distance steps. But both would be your fault.

The sound the jetty makes, the platch of the water, the way she is so shocked as soon as her face reaches the surface.

With your hand in front on your mouth you watch as she stares at you indignantly. Thank god she can swim.

Her eyes and the light green of the lake, bite each other just a tiny bit. It almost seems to you as if it was so destined, ellie and the lake. And maybe that was the case, but not in autumn.

You can't imagine how cold the water is and her blue lips testify enough. But Ellie doesn't budge. For a few seconds, she just stares at you. Maybe so that she can picture it again later or to make you realize what you just done.

You two didn't have to check if joel and riley noticed, you can already hear the stomping footsteps.

"Im sorry I-" you turn around so fast that you get dizzy and you almost fall into the lake too , you run so fast down the jetty that Joel can't stop you.

You're not quite sure where you're going. It all looks the same anyway. A play of colours, of orange and yellow on the ground and in the crowns of the trees. The sounds of birds and the dead leaves in the air.

As soon as you don't feel your legs anymore, you stop.

Your lungs sound like they're about to give up on you, and you are about to hyperventilate. It feels like you're always running, if not physical, then emotional.

You run when you're awake, when you're asleep, when you're sitting, Whether that's on ellie‘s old couch or when you have dinner with your family. Something scares you and it's always in the back of your mind, no matter where you are or with whom.

All of a sudden, your chest feels too tight and your head too much, but the world feels too small. It's as if all the air in the world is evaporating in front of you, and you can't do anything but try to get some oxygen with every breath. Your arms rested on your knees, your head spinning and-

"Hey?"

Your eyes rush open so wide and fast it almost hurts.

Ellie's clothes are completely soaked, so is her hair and she shivers slightly. And she's standing in front of you? She’s wearing an fishing jacket, a thick one and a wet one, but she doesn’t care.

"Hey it's okay im sorry I shouldn't have said that" she says it so fast, your brain almost misses it.

she doesn't ask if she can touch you, even if a precaution wouldn't have hurt you. At first only your hand, she grabs it very carefully and her cold skin makes you twitch a bit.

After that, she holds your cheek in her other hand to make you look up. You could still feel the drops of water hours later.

"Come here its okay, I’m fine" She takes puts both of her arms around you and one hand rests on your head.

She literally presses you against her. Her hand gently caresses over your hair. You've shoved her into an ice-cold lake and she's holding you like you're gold. As if you weren't a monster - as if you mean something.

Like a lost piece of a puzzle, your own arms sling around her and you put your head into her shoulder.

You cry so often, and you know it. You know how overwhelming it is for you, for the people around you, maybe even annoying, but not for ellie.

The animals of the forest hardly bothered, even if it was like the whole forest when quiet for a short minute. But you might have imagined that too.

"I'm really sorry ellie"

Your breaking voice is very low, though she hears it anyway.

"I know everything is okay I’m fine, I’m sorry too"

Out of surprise, you stiffen for a moment.

"I dragged you out here and hardly spoke to you. You're only here because of me" she explains and You can’t deny that.

You were going to stay like this a little longer, but suddenly ellie's breath hitches.

"don’t fucking move"

Her words run like a cold down your spine and into your ear, all the way to your legs. You were prepared for something that would tear you apart from behind But not knowing what it was almost killed you by itself.

Her arms loosen and turned you around a little in the other direction. Her eyes are still directed forward, into the forest.

When you slowly turn around, theres only a… deer?

You suppress the urge to tease Ellie, expecting that a Serial killer with a pointed hook was standing behind you, but the beauty of the creature was already enough to shut you up. It's still a bit young, probably still baby.

The white dots reminded you of freckles, of ellie.

The same ellie who was still standing next to you, way too close. But by too close you mean “exactly close enough”. Just perfect.

The two of you watch as the animal sniffs around on the ground. Ellie's wet hand prushes yours just a little.

A daring, yet intentional invitation, which you immediately accept.

The deer looks up even though you didn't make a sound.

And it's hard for you to breathe, as well as blinking.

This moment, this gracious moment should last as long as possible. It seems to both of you as if it is looking right into your souls, your hand squeezes ellies even tighter.

"Do you have your phone with you?"

With her big eyes she is still watching the deer. You shake your head.

"That's fine. I think it wont leave us, just for a little while.

a/n: I tried to make it a little less angsty (I failed forgive me)

INTERACT W LINKS ABOVE!!!! 🍉🍉

anyways hope you liked it pls repost and like!!! Next chapter the road trip will start I promise 🤞 (no hate to Riley btw I love her but let’s be fr reader would be jealous)

@yourelliewillms @bready101 @liasxeatt @darkerstarsstuff @elliezato @macaroni676 @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @lovelyxbaby @yalaysbee @moonchild184 @a-little-bit-of-everybody @gosomewjere

[miss-bushido]

you make me feel like I am home again

Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember week 2: prompts ‘backseat’ and ‘clothes on’

Rating: Explicit (very explicit)

October 3, 1988

Steve leaned against the column just outside of the Arrivals exit at the airport, lightly tapping his finger against his arm. Eddie’s flight had been delayed coming in from Boston: he’d opted to take a different flight than the other guys so he could take a quick trip up to Salem and see all the quote-unquote spooky shit up there. Steve had teased him about coming back with a witch’s hat or a spell book or something, and Eddie had threatened to put a spell on him if he didn’t be quiet. Steve had laughed and pretended he was going through a tunnel and had to go.

“You’re on the phone in the kitchen!” Eddie had scream-laughed as Steve made his words fade in and out before he clearly yelled back, “See you at midnight!” and then hung up.

Delayed Flight 5498 now arriving from Boston. Baggage will be available at carousel number 4 sounded over the speakers.

Steve checked his watch as he stifled a yawn and shifted his stance. He was tired- it was after midnight after all- but he knew that he was going to get a burst of energy soon. Being around Eddie always did that. His energy was infectious even under normal circumstances. Especially when he hit you with that dimpled smile. God, it made Steve weak every time.

It would be more potent now considering how long it had been since they’d been in such close proximity to one another. Eddie and the other members of Corroded Coffin had done a mini-tour of the Northeast and Mid-Atlantic. Their Wraiths on Wings Tour had started in late August, kicking off in Indianapolis before moving to Cleveland, Columbus, Baltimore, Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, Syracuse, New Haven, Providence, and finally culminated with two nights in Boston. Steve had only been able to go to the one in Indianapolis, but he’d been more than happy to support Eddie doing something he loved. On the numerous phone calls they’d shared after each gig was done, Eddie had gushed about how electrifying it was to be on stage. How fucking awesome it was to be able to play on the same stages that bands like Dokken, Metallica, and Iron Maiden had years before.

Steve was so proud of Eddie, and the other guys, and he always made sure to let Eddie know that. The praise always made Eddie’s tone turn soft on the phone, almost bashful. Whenever Steve heard Eddie ask, “You really mean it, Stevie?”, that was when he dialled up the praise: telling Eddie what a good boy he was, how hardworking and dedicated he was. And all of the things Steve was going to do for him once he got his hands on him again. He sincerely hoped that none of the switchboard operators of the hotels they stayed at ever listened in on their phone calls, or else they would have gotten an earful of the lead singer of Corroded Coffin and his boyfriend having phone sex more than a few times while the guys were on the tour.

Apart from the quick call earlier in the day, the two of them hadn’t been able to connect before the show in New Haven five days prior. As it was, Steve was itching to get his hands on Eddie more so than normal. The fact that the flight had been delayed was like rubbing salt in the wound. He just hoped deplaning and getting the baggage wouldn’t take too long. And while he didn’t drive like Eddie did, he was planning to go a little bit faster to get them back to their apartment sooner rather than later.

About ten minutes later, he saw the shadow of a familiar figure making its way through the arrivals corridor towards him. It rounded the corner, and there stood Eddie: looking every inch the rockstar sex god he showed to the world. He had developed an on-stage persona to play to the audience, which allowed him to separate a little from how he acted onstage to how he was normally. Onstage Eddie was more cocksure, ten times more brash, and he exaggerated his movements as he played and sang, really milking the sexy rockstar angle. The clothes he wore- tight black jeans, a tank top with a deep v-neck (or sometimes no shirt at all), combat boots, studded bracelets- and the way he carried himself fed into this, and the audience couldn’t get enough of it.

Eddie looked up and broke into a big grin as he saw Steve at the end of the corridor waiting for him. It wasn’t Onstage Eddie. It was His Eddie. Still sexy and brash, of course, but also nerdy; shy at times (which always surprised Steve when those times happened); in constant motion even when he was sitting down; and happy to stay in rather than going out and partying.

Steve stood up straight and gave him a little wave, immediately holding out his hand for Eddie’s suitcase as the distance between them closed. The Warlock was in its case across Eddie’s back, and Steve had learned very early on that only Eddie would carry his beloved guitar. “Good flight?” Steve asked as they fell into step, moving out of the airport and into the cold damp air of the Indiana night. “How was Salem?”

“Decent flight,” Eddie answered, brushing his hair away from his face. “Salem was nice. Kind of crowded, though. I want to go again. One day wasn’t enough to see everything.”

“Did you get a spell book?” Steve asked as they approached the Beemer. He opened the trunk and put the suitcase in, letting Eddie maneuver his guitar on top of it, before they both got in the car.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Eddie asked as he buckled up.

Steve shook his head, giving him a smirk as he started up the car. The radio came to life at the same time the engine did, the last few chords and lyrics of ‘Hazy Shade of Winter’ by The Bangles filling up the car. As Steve drove them out of the parking lot and down the road, INXS��� ‘Don’t Change’ came on.

Eddie smiled. “I actually don’t hate this song.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, putting on the windshield wipers as he turned onto the dark back road. “Really? I didn’t realize you listened to INXS.” It was beginning to drizzle, so he slowed down a little.

“Not usually,” he admitted. “Just this one song.” He turned his head to look at Steve, the orange glow of the passing street lights reflecting in his eyes as they drove. “It makes me think of you.” As if the radio heard him, the lyrics he was thinking of came on, and he couldn’t help singing along with Michael Hutchence:

Resolution of happiness, Things have been dark for too long. Don't change for you, Don't change a thing for me

Steve reached over and took Eddie’s hand in his, bringing it up to kiss the back of it. “You’re sweet.”

“You’re just saying that to get into my pants,” Eddie countered, sliding over a little. He kissed Steve’s wrist and took his hand back, sliding it up Steve’s arm and onto the nape of his neck. He used his nails to slide up the back of Steve’s head, feeling him shudder at the touch.

“Babe,” Steve breathed, adjusting in his seat. “I’m driving.”

“I know,” Eddie said, massaging the back of Steve’s scalp. He leaned in closer and kissed Steve’s neck. “You look so sexy. And I don’t know if I can wait until we get back home.” He placed his other hand on Steve’s inner thigh, mere inches from his dick. Steve gasped and gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“I’ve really missed you, Stevie,” Eddie purred, sliding his hand from Steve’s inner thigh to his bulge. He squeezed him lightly, his own moan echoing Steve’s at the feeling of his cock pulsing inside his jeans. “I want to taste you, baby.”

Steve groaned loudly, slowing down as he pulled the car over, the gravel crunching under the tires as he made his way off of the road. As soon as he put the car in ‘Park’, he undid his seatbelt, and pulled Eddie almost onto his lap to kiss him in one fluid motion.

Eddie smiled against Steve’s lips, fumbling for the seatbelt to unhook it. Once he did, he straddled Steve, kissing him hungrily, hips grinding against him. “God, fuck, I need you so badly.” he groaned.

“Me too,” Steve moaned, sliding his hands up into Eddie’s hair. He moved his leg and hit his knee on the steering wheel. “Ow,” he hissed.

“Backseat?” Eddie asked, almost breathless with desire.

“Backseat,” Steve agreed.

Both of them scrambled over the front seat and into the back, limbs tangling as they resituated in the backseat. Steve pulled Eddie back on his lap, hands sliding up the back of his shirt. The familiar feel of his skin and the muscles underneath made Steve gasp. “God, I missed the feel of you,” he said against Eddie’s mouth. “I missed your mouth, how you taste.”

“I missed you, too, baby,” Eddie moaned, breath catching in his throat as he rolled his hips, feeling Steve’s erection below his own. “I want all of you. Your taste, your smell, all of the sounds you make. The phone calls helped, but it wasn’t the same. How you sound in person? Fuck. It was all I could hear in my dreams.”

Steve tilted his head back, sliding down in the seat. The new position made Eddie loom over him, his hair falling around them. “I want to fuck you. I need you so much,” he rasped.

Eddie grinned, all teeth, as he resumed kissing Steve. His hands travelled between them, quickly undoing Steve’s belt and the button on his jeans. He unzipped him and gave his jeans a tug. Just enough to move them from his hips to the middle of his ass. It allowed his briefs to be pulled down, too, so Steve’s cock could be released from the cotton confines of the briefs.

Putting his thumb in his mouth, Eddie sucked on his finger pad. “Touch me, Steve,” he breathed.

Steve made short work of getting Eddie’s cock out of his jeans, too. Steve’s tip was wet, but Eddie’s was wetter, precum streaming out of him to drip down onto Steve’s lap. He let out a deep groan at the sight of his boyfriend’s cock, mouth watering at the image of wrapping his lips around it.

“Thought about you every night, Steve,” Eddie rasped, rubbing his wet thumb over the tip of Steve’s cock, making his hips jerk forward. He wrapped the rest of his hand around him and began stroking, the slick sounds of precum filling the car. “Thought about deep throating you, spreading your legs on the bed and fucking you hard into the mattress. Thought about cumming all over your face, having you lick all of it up and then beg me for more.” Steve let out a sharp gasp at this, eyes rolling back into his head.

“Thought about you too, Eds,” he managed, panting hard as Eddie stroked him and put all those pretty images in his mind. “Thought about eating you out from behind while I stroked your cock. Thought about you using your handcuffs on me to keep me in bed, fucking me over and over until we’re both spent.” As Steve spoke, he had also begun stroking Eddie.

“Stevie,” Eddie whimpered, closing his eyes as he bent forward, his forehead resting on Steve’s shoulder. “Oh fuck I’m so fucking close.”

“Me too,” Steve gasped. “I thought about you riding me, my hands gripping your hips as I fucked deep into you. Your cock was dripping all over me, and when you came, you covered my chest and stomach. And after I came deep inside you, I fingered you until you came again while you straddled my shoulders and your cock was deep in my throat. So I could get every drop you had to give me.”

“STEVE!” Eddie shouted, hips thrusting forward as he came hard, the loud groan turning into a whine. “Oh my Go-o-o-od!”

The sight and sounds Eddie made meant Steve followed with his own orgasm no less than ten seconds later. He repeated Eddie’s name over and over before he kissed him hard, still feeling himself pulsing for a good minute afterwards.

Eddie caught his breath first, giving a few breathy chuckles as he pushed his hair out of his face. The back of his neck was sweaty, his cheeks were flushed and his throat was raw. “That was so fucking hot!” he exclaimed.

“Mmm,” Steve hummed in agreement, blindly reaching with his free hand for the hand towel he kept in the back of the front seat. Ostensibly, it was to get rid of condensation on the windows, which he did use it for: they had steamed the car up something fierce. It was also a good way for them to quickly clean up.

Eddie kissed him hard before he threw himself to the right, extricating himself from Steve’s lap so he could catch his breath and get his pants back up. He watched as Steve did the same, cheeks ruddy and mouth wet as he got himself together. “Let’s shower together when we get home,” he said, reaching out to run his hand up Steve’s arm.

“Yes,” Steve breathed, leaning over to kiss Eddie on the mouth. “I want to fuck you on the stairs before I eat you out in the shower.” He gave Eddie’s lower lip a quick bite before pulling away. With a grunt, he pulled himself back into the driver’s seat, getting himself situated once more.

Meanwhile, in the backseat, Eddie watched Steve, wondering how he’d gotten so lucky to deserve him. His sweet, handsome, surprisingly kinky partner. He zipped his own jeans up and moved back to the passenger seat. “Sounds like you’ve had this planned, huh?”

Steve gave him a smirk as he put the car back in Drive and started off down the road. “I guess you’ll just have to find out when we get back to the house.”

“It wasn’t a spell book,” Eddie said abruptly.

“What?” Steve asked, confused until their earlier conversation came back to him. “Oh. What was it?”

Eddie didn’t immediately answer. It was only when they were at a red light, about two miles from home that he finally said, “It was two rings.”

Steve bodily turned to look at Eddie, eyes wide and shining at the implications of this purchase. “Eddie,” he breathed.

Eddie leaned over and kissed Steve on the lips. “Get us home, big boy, and I’ll give you one of them.”

Steve seemed at a loss for words until Eddie kissed him again. “However far away,” he sang-spoke quietly, “I will always love you.”

“However long I stay,” Steve responded, also sing-speaking, voice thick with emotion, “I will always love you.” He kissed Eddie once more and then leaned back, wiping his eyes. “Since when do you listen to The Cure?”

“Not usually,” Eddie answered, watching as Steve continued the drive back to their house. As he parked in the driveway, Eddie continued, “Just this one song. It makes me think of you.”

[bird-inacage]

Only Friends: Episode 6 Preview (Mew VS Ray)

Jesus Christ, the pain train will keep on chugging full steam ahead next week when it comes to Ray/Sand. Ray gets in an altercation with Mew (over Top), who proceeds to punch Ray in the face out of frustration. My jaw dropped to the floor.

There's an earlier clip where Ray is speaking to Boston and it sounds like Ray either finds out about the affair, or that Boston/Top have history. I have a feeling it's likely the latter, because Ray would be far angrier at Boston if he found about the affair. (As well as the fact we get another blow-up later between Boston and the entire group when this is revealed). Besides, knowing they had history is enough ammunition for Ray to believe that Top is untrustworthy and not deserving of Mew.

So Ray decides to approach Mew about it, probably in an attempt to warn him to distance himself from Top. However at this point, Mew's pretty loved up. Considering Ray's recent indiscretion and the fact he causes a scene (making this seem like drunken, rowdy behaviour), Mew ultimately defends and sides with Top, and sends Ray flying in the process. Ray hits the stage hard. Mew was not going easy in the slightest which left me speechless.

(*Has Mew become evil!Mew now that he doesn't wear glasses??)

Sand is also at the scene during this confrontation, and helps Ray up when he gets hit. Immediately after this is where Ray and Sand then also have their argument. This string of events makes a LOT more sense now, considering Ray's reaction.

Ray must be incredibly heartbroken and utterly devastated. He probably never thought that Mew - the person who saved his life - would one day be capable of hurting him instead (and all in a bid to defend another man - a giant, red flag of a man).

Then Sand decides to top that off with "Can you stop thinking about something else for a second? Focus on me for once, will you?" perhaps not fully realising that this is THE ABSOLUTE WORST time to ask that question. I love you Sand, but this is really not the time to make this about you. I know you're still upset from this week's episode, but please give your boyfriend a moment's respite.

This results in Ray exploding in his face, shoving Sand to the ground and storming off.

Ray's in an exceptionally heightened and raw state of mind in this scene. What he says to Sand is going to come out incredibly harshly, and he's not going to be thinking straight to consider Sand's feelings.

However, once he cools down, he's going to seriously regret it. Especially in immediate succession to hurting Sand just recently.

The aftermath is what I'm really concerned about. From Sand's perspective, everything that transpires 100% confirms Boston's bombshell, without a question of a doubt, that Ray does love Mew.

Both Ray and Sand will be in a very poor mental state after next week's episode, and I hope to god they're going to be okay.

Also - Ray should NOT be driving himself home when he's like this.