#josh anderson imagine

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑

˗ˏˋ main masterlist ˎˊ˗

pairing(s) — foreman!JOSH ANDERSON x reader word count — 3.5k

note — this little number was day one of my patreon kinktober this year, and it was too beloved (by patrons and myself) to be gatekept forever!

recommended viewing — TI WEST'S X (2022) + PEARL (2022)

bingo squares and additional content warnings below the cut.

bingo squares — backdoor play, costumes/roleplay (kinda sorta), + risky location/exhibitionism additional content warnings — implied age gap, outdated patriarchal beliefs, innocence kink, corruption kink, slight humilation kink, spit as lube, dacryphilia, slight overstim, unprotected p in v, possessive!josh x virgin!reader (outdated definition and beliefs here, too) and just general filth

JOSH ANDERSON HATES TO WASTE A SWEET GESTURE, but, even in the scorching mid-day heat, ice-cold lemonade just couldn't compare where it would never compete.

While fresh squeezed is good, drinking the sugary nectar straight from the tap is better.

Still, it hurt Josh's heart a bit to watch the fruit of your afternoon's labor get soaked up by the dirt. He reckons he's the only one who minds the undue waste. 

Though, that shouldn't be much of a surprise; it's hard to mind much of anything when you've long since lost yours.

He supposes you have him to blame for that particular loss, too.

How did a harmless compliment devolve into this?

His hips flush to the skin of his boss' daughter, bent over the tailgate, cotton twisted at the knees, and in full view of the main road...

The afternoon began normal enough; the old man sputtered down the long drive towards town around noon, as usual, and the screen door slammed shut not a minute after the rusty ford dipped around the bend, as usual.

And, as if on cue, the delicate twinkle of glassware on a tray pulled his attention from the task at hand—barrels of hay that now lay abandoned at his boots—and Josh was treated to the eyeful that never failed to make his jeans feel two-sizes too tight and burn his neck faster than the looming sun.

Josh enjoyed the back and forth, however one-sided it often was. Though, not for a lack of trying, however girlishly awkward those efforts might be. It wasn't your fault you were sheltered beyond belief, and it made the mental reprieve all the more addicting, too.

You were easily frazzled in a way many weren't and it—a bashful purse of your lips, the gentle tremble of nervous fingers just behind you back, the way you can't meet his eye for more than a minute at a time—stirred up a sick, juvenile satisfaction Josh thought he long outgrew.

The game was relatively harmless because you were exactly that—harmless. A girl too sweet for her own good, recklessly trusting, and shouldering the heavy predisposition to assume the best in people.

Which is why he hadn't thought much about praising your equestrian skill, having been subjected to the visual torture that was the lessons you gave to local children each weekend.

Josh loved how you couldn't take a compliment without coaxing and, even then, you still squirmed like a newborn kitten.

Blinded by a halo of purity and the lure of a timid smile, your inquiry into his own riding prowess appeared just as unassuming. Another opportunity to get his fix, naively offered up on a serving tray, and he was powerless to resist the temptation.

Josh recalls chuckling to himself, prematurely reveling in the delicious reaction, as he threw a bushel out of the truck bed.

"Not as well as you, darlin', but I know my way around."

He expected you to shrivel. If not at his thinly veiled undertone, at the crass wink he tacked on between innuendos, sandwiched beside the candied term of endearment that made your thighs rub together every time he put it to use.

"I could...teach you a few tricks? Maybe show you my skills one-on-one? Something tells me you're a hands-on learner."

Josh nearly jumped out of his skin. He couldn't tell if you were being serious or not; you've never given back an ounce of what you've gotten from him, but it felt too bold to be a first foray.

Sayin' something as lamely disguised as that? It'd be like jumping into a swimming hole without testing the depth beforehand.

Surely, you were brighter than that. Or, at least, puritanical by proxy.

"You're playin' with fire, darlin'."

Your resolve proved resistant to his polite warning. The grin on your face could've only been categorized as wicked.

"I'm not playing with anything—yet."

"Your daddy know you talk like that?"

"You gonna tell on me?"

You were lent against the truck by then, wide doe-eyes blinking up at him through a fan of lashes. They casted a shadow onto your cheeks that created the illusion of sob-streaked makeup; he groaned out loud.

You've set things hurtling toward mutually assured destruction. Josh had to rein you and your girlish whims in before it was too late for common sense to win out against the ache in his jeans.

That dog won't hunt.

"No, because you ain't serious. I wouldn't wanna get you in trouble for a fib."

"S'not a fib."

Your face pinched in irritation then, understandably annoyed at not being taken seriously.

He hadn't been around too long, but Josh'd seen enough to know hardly anyone did 'round these parts. Probably why you were fixed on him like junebug pursuing light to its own detriment.

For that reason alone, he should've stopped there. It was an easy place to lay the interaction to rest. You'd gotten too big for your britches and it was his responsibility—morally and professionally—to bring your head out of the clouds and put those faded pink boots back on dirt.

Josh should've left it a bluff and sent you on your way, but he had the forethought of a bull straight out of the chute. His impulse control was on par, too, come to think of it.

So, Josh did what any red-blooded man with a death wish would; he hopped down from the truck-bed.

Stalked forward until you were pinned between his bare chest and the hot metal of the truck, his gloves shed and discarded elsewhere sometime between now and when reason got caught in the wind.

"No?"

You bit your lip and shook your head, body shrunken away from his.

Josh would have thought himself safe if not for the mischievous glint in your eyes, sparkling bright and strong in the heavy sunshine. He took that glimmer as a plea for more and caged you between his arms, palms burned by the surface.

It hurt no less than the punishment for his indiscretion would if, God forbid, someone caught him takin' advantage like this.

"I'm not soft and gentle like the boys i've seen droppin' you off."

Half a mile down the road, lights off, and in the middle of the night—Josh had half a mind to steal the ladder right out from under your window in order to facilitate some natural consequences.

"You spyin' on me, Mr. Anderson?"

You weren't too much younger than him, but you treated him with the same respect and reverence as your daddy's business partners or any other senior member of your small community in next-to-nowhere Tennessee. It was endearing, how dedicated you were to respecting your elders, no matter the gap's size.

And nothing in Josh's twenty-nine years has sounded better on his sunburnt ears—or to his throbbing cock—than 'Mr. Anderson' falling from your sweet, glossy lips.

"Got to," Josh shrugged.

He feigned nonchalance about as well as you wore a poker face.

He considered you for a moment then, considered the skin exposed by your top. The way your chest rose and fell; delicious little quakes. Josh liked the way you watched him with bated breath. Perhaps, a little too much.

You were so hungry for attention and approval, so fucking eager for anything he might dish out next—he'd test the bounds of your devotion eventually if luck and time were on his side.

"It's my job to keep all your daddy's property safe and in line, sweetheart... but, i'm also a man, so I can't say I ain't dyin' t'see you ride somethin' else."

Caution bled from his mind hearin' you moan so lewdly at words alone. Any bystander would've been at a loss imagining what he could've done to coax out a sound so broken and overtly impatient from such a pious, pretty thing such as yourself. All he did was utter a quip that would've made a teenager scoff and roll their eyes, and you practically melted in his palms.

You wore your neon innocence on your chest.

"Darlin, it ain't too late to pretend this never happened. We haven't done anythin' wrong, but you're toeing a dangerous line. You're a good girl. Y'wouldn't wanna get us both into any trouble, would'ya?"

"'m not gonna to tell."

You're persistent, he'd give you that.

Bold, too, he came to learn; your warm hand palmed his considerable bulge with enough enthusiasm to negate your palpable inexperience.

"You keep movin' those hands and i'll have to, sweetheart."

"You won't."

You said it with as much conviction as you say grace every night. Josh can almost feel your palm in his.

"How can you be so sure? You hardly know me, sugar. I've been here all summer and this is the most you've said to me in one go."

"Because you wanna touch me as much as i wanna touch you."

"That right, sweet girl?"

"Yessir."

Josh would have you if the creek don't rise.

And even if it did, he would find a way.

You squeak out a garble of protest as you wriggle in his arms. The struggle only worsens the dig of his wide tip prodding the mint hole, his length slick and sliding between your sticky folds with absolutely no resistance—a fact josh goaded you with, one that only made you gush out even more.

"N-not inside, Mr. Anderson," you hiccup.

All your sobbing and moaning has rubbed your vocal cords raw. And thank God for it, because you're louder than a rooster in a hen house and he hasn't even been inside anywhere.

You wouldn't even kiss him with tongue.

"Why's that, sugar? You savin' this sweet cherry for your future husband?"

A pathetic, bashful nod is all he gets from you. Josh chuckles into the musky skin of your soft neck. The patronizing sound makes you mewl and rut back into his lap in spite of your earnest vow of chastity.

"Well, aren't you precious, sweetheart? But that don't mean I can't fuck you, though. You've got another perfectly good hole back here for me to stick my cock in."

You don't hate the filthy suggestion, even though you know you should; you curled into yourself as if you did. The escaped whimper and roll of your body scream the truth when your mouth insists on lying. You might love his idea more than whatever you originally sought out.

In fact, if Josh was a betting man, he'd feel good putting his savings on that.

"Aw, don't get all shy on me now, darlin'. Where'd my little cocktease go, huh? Thought she'd be over the moon at the thought of me stretching out one of her little holes—no matter which one—but I guess I was mistaken."

Josh makes a show of separating your bodies. He leaves you bent over the truck bed, fingers threaded through crumpled hay, as his belt rattles dismissively in his hand.

"Go on, sugar. Run along now. I got work to do and you ain't gonna waste any more of my time."

"No!" you burst, spinning on a bare heel to latch onto his forearm. The tears of a blossoming fit well in your already glassy eyes. "I-I want to, I've just never...nothin's ever been...y'know."

"Never?" Josh blinks incredulously. He wretches off your iron grip to take your hand in his. "Not even these cute little fingers?"

Your head wags.

He smirks. "What about that hairbrush of yours?"

You wear embarrassment just as pretty as you do lust. Josh thinks you might cry for real this time.

He can't wait to lick your cheeks dry.

Josh does his best not to laugh, but your pained, guilt-ridden expression is too amusing. You try to look away but he's quicker—and stronger—than you. Josh grabs your cheeks with his free hand and squeezes until you whimper in obvious submission.

Like a tomcat with a belly full of yellow feathers, Josh bares his teeth. "Shouldn't leave your curtains open if you ain't inviting me to a free show, sugar. Not that I'm complaining—the hours go by much quicker when y'got somethin' nice to look at."

He smells the shame rolling off of you in uneven waves, can just about taste it, too. Fuck, one taste of you'll never be enough to satiate him. Of that, the foreman is certain.

Josh drops your wrist and cups your face with warm, calloused hands. His thumbs rub the teardrops into your cheeks as he coos, "I promise I'll take real good care of you, sweetheart. Nice and slow...get you so ready you'll be beggin' me to split you open. Y'can trust me, I know what I'm doin'—y'ain't the first i've had the pleasure of breakin' in."

You scowl, jaw set and eyes narrowed; rearing to charge. Invisible steam plumes from your rabbit-twitch nose. You are so dang cute, he could hardly stand it.

"Put that pout away before I spank it off of ya, y'hear?"

He nearly busts with how quickly you fall in line at the mere implication of corporal punishment.

Josh'll remember that for later.

"Didn't even give me a chance to say ain't none of them could hold a candle to you, sugar."

Taking you on your back proved to be too much of a temptation, what with your virginal hole mouthing around nothing like a siren song, and your demure face crinkled into disrepair at the hand of your own perverse wants. Your limp thighs splayed open as Josh fucked your ass bare with no assistance, save from his spit and your dribble.

"Look how ripe you are, sugar. Your little pussyhole is cryin' for me and you won't even let me touch her...not even a little bit."

He gave you your first peak in that position, his teeth ground into the side of his cheek as he fought to keep his own at bay; Josh was far from done playing with your supple, sensitive body. With his thumb pressed to your puffy button, he stroked you halfway to your second and then abruptly pulled out.

The hiss of pain and surprise is swallowed by a mound of hay as you're flipped over and he hikes your hips up high into the muggy air. Your hands curl into fists on either side of your head.

Josh's face lowers until his nose slots in the valley between the rounded muscles. His deep inhale and subsequent hum of approval exacerbates the battle waging behind your glazed, lust-blown eyes. His thick tongue slips past the love-loosened ring and he fucks you with it like he can hear the conflict monopolizing your mind.

Josh laps and laps, kneading the tender flesh of your rear like he's got something to prove, until your back aches and you scream into the earth.

The obscene smacking of his lips as he parts from your tender hole is nothing short of profane, but it's no match for the fresh, hot glob of spit that lands on the sore pucker with a loud splat!

And Josh can't help but throw salt in the wound, "'wanna be able to smell your wrecked little asshole for hours, sugar, wanna be able to taste you on my lips all fucking day."

Tears race down your cheeks. This is everything you've been taught is immoral. A one-way ticket to the fiery domain down below. This is a sin, desecration of the worst kind.

This is the most pleasure you've felt in your entire life.

The sun is far too close to the adjacent range of mountains for his liking; the old man will be home a little before it dips behind them for the night with your mama in tow.

Josh is going to cum before then. At least once. Propriety be damned.

He maneuvers you up and off of the ground, taking the time to brush the dirt and smushed fodder from your tear-stained cheeks and clammy palms.

Your heart jumps to your throat when he finishes positioning you—split open on his girth, straddling his broad hips, turned away from his kind eyes, and facing the dirt road. You grip his rippling, jean-clad thighs.

Josh can feel your freshly-painted claws through the sturdy fabric.

"I d-don't know how, sir."

His hips involuntarily buck at the honorific; it'll never get old.

"Yes, you do, darlin'. I know y'do. Seen it with my own two eyes." Josh taps the fleshy bit of your hip. He's growing impatient. "Go on, pretty girl. Ride me like you ride your ponies."

"Not ponies."

He doesn't need to see your face to know you're glowering. Probably singeing holes into the poor, weathered barn ahead, your kind features scrunched tightly into a frown. If you do it any harder, you'll get stuck that way.

And Josh can't have that. Can't have his sweet, good girl permanently pouting. He'd never get a lick of work done again; he'd be to busy fucking that absent-minded smile back where it belongs.

Admittedly, the open-palm hit is harder than the situation warrants but he's waited too long to watch it jiggle at his hand to control himself.

"What was that?" he growls.

You grind down, swiveling your hips as you grasp onto the lifeline, "Nothin', sir."

"God, even with a cock in your ass you still mind your manners. Your daddy would be so proud of ya, wouldn't he, sugar? Raised ya so good, got ya so obedient."

Josh's vision clouds as you find your stride. The feel of you rocking over his cock is unreal. Entirely unmatched by anything he's ever experienced, in practice or in theory. You feel divine.

You're just as dedicated and passionate in riding him as you are that gentle Tennessee Walker of yours. But there's an intense undercurrent he's never seen before—a fervid need that he could only hope would surface and possess you someday.

Today is that day, and it is glorious.

"Spread yourself f'me, honey."

You do so without lip or hesitation. You just reach back and grab yourself with both hands, hips never wavering.

Heaven-sent, he muses. His very own fallen angel.

A she-devil in disguise; a dirty whore with a greedy, greedy hole.

Josh's never seen anything hotter than your tight little ass fighting to accommodate another of his blessings.

It ain't like you're going easy on yourself either, forcing that sweet hole to take a beating because slow and steady ain't enough anymore. The floodgates have been opened, you're now subservient to the mounting heat low in your tummy and the pulse of your neglected, untouched pussy. You're fucking yourself hard enough for both holes, and you've graciously awarded Josh a front-row seat.

"Sweet Jesus, you're prettier than a peach—juicer, too. I reckon you got the nicest set of holes this side of the Mississippi, sugar."

You preen, back arching. In response, you hold yourself open even wider for his perverted gaze.

"That's it—show me where my cock is. Show me what you've let me take, what you've let me claim—what I'll always call my own. Even when you're good and hitched, it'll be mine. And whenever your empty ass aches, you'll think of this—think of me.

You'll always remember the time you let your daddy's foreman soil you in the middle of his pasture."

The moan that tumbles from your gaping mouth is as uncouth as the visual feast you're treating him to. Even in your struggle to balance on chaffed knees.

Taking mercy on your poor skin, Josh sits up, tugging you back so that your back is pressed tight to his sweat-drenched chest. His grip on your hips matches the ferocity of your hole pulsing around the base of his member, his heavy sack jumping up to repeatedly slap your sensitive clit.

"Y'gonna let me fill this little hole, sugar?" His voice is low in your ear, his breath humid and encouraging.

Your head bobs, your body in a frenzy.

Josh hums his satisfaction, "m'gonna stuff you full and send you back inside—have you make supper right next to your mama with me leakin' down these pretty thighs...M'gonna make you sit in your sin across the table from your daddy."

It's that thought—and your enthusiasm for it—that kicks him over the edge, and, without warning, Josh is unloading warm ropes into your ruined body while you spill for a third time, painting his generous sack in your cream—and it's the crumpled white cotton sticking out of his back pocket that lays the foundation for it to become a reality.

As you limp back to the main house like a freshly dropped foul, Josh knows there won't be any more boys parked at the edge of the property line. No need for the ladder tucked behind the bushes.

Your daddy's gonna be so pleased with him. For weeks, he's been asking Josh for his two cents on how to exterminate the vermin in his field. They're gone now, and Josh'll make sure they stay gone.

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[senditcolton]

As Long As I'm With You

After coming home from work/a long trip, finding your lover sobbing on the couch/in bed after a hard day, wiping away their tears with soft touches and gentle words – trying to convince them it’s okay, and that you’re there for them now.

summary: being injured makes you feel helpless and you despised it. lucky for you, your athlete boyfriend knows what you're going through and therefore knows just how to comfort you song inspo: OK by backstreet boys word count: 0.9k warnings: injured reader, self-doubt & self criticism, hurt/comfort requested by anon

If there was one thing that you prided yourself on, it was your independence. You had gotten this far in life without using others as a crutch. You didn’t realize that that emotional strength would be shattered the same time that your physical strength was. You didn’t realize how much you relied on your autonomy until it was taken from you and replaced with actual crutches.

A torn ACL that required surgery to fix was all that it took to remove the one aspect of your personality that you cherished. A torn ACL was all it took to leave you helpless.

That loss made you fight harder to recover, just so you could have that strength back, both physically and emotionally. But that need to regaining your independence was how you wound up here; on the couch with tears streaming down your face.

You had just come downstairs for a bite to eat, that was all. After being in bed most of the day, you needed to move. You had been able to walk about the house without help recently and that shouldn’t have changed today, you thought. How very wrong you were.

Leaving the bedroom and making your way down the stairs was easy enough, just as long as you went slow and kept a firm grip on the railing. But when you tried to retrace your path and ascend the carpeted staircase, your knee started throbbing in pain. And you were stupid enough to leave your crutches leaning by your bed.

You had made it halfway up before you couldn’t manage another step, collapsing on the carpeted floor and sliding your body back down to the landing. You managed to hobble to the couch before collapsing onto the soft cushions, your legs stretched out in front of you.

That’s when the tears started. Not just from the pain radiating from your injured knee but also from the complete feeling of helplessness. Once the first tear hits your cheek, there is no stopping the downpour, covering your eyes as you choke back sobs.

You are so frustrated, so overwhelmed, that you don’t hear the garage door open. The sound of your boyfriend Josh returning doesn’t even register until you feel him gently grabbing your arms, pulling your hands away from your face. 

The minute your eyes connect with his blue ones, your heart breaks at the sight of fear shining in his irises. His mouth is moving but it takes a minute for you to fully register the words falling from his lips.

“Baby, are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt?”

The questions come in rapid succession, the panic in his tone obvious. You take a few shaky breaths, trying to piece yourself back together.

“I’m fine, or,” you sniffle, “my knee is fine. Just a little sore.”

Josh’s gaze stays locked to yours, waiting patiently for you to continue, intrinsically knowing that there was more you wanted – no, needed – to say. You heave a sigh, your eyes looking skywards as you feel another wave of tears swell.

“It’s just…” you begin, your words sticking in your throat. “I just hate this, Josh. I feel so goddamn useless. Like, I can’t even – I can’t even walk up the stairs without help. Everything I used to be able to do effortlessly, I now just… God, I just – I feel like such a fucking burden.”

The teardrops fall again, hitting and soaking the fabric of your clothes as your head drops. You don’t want to look Josh in the eye. The last thing you needed was his sympathetic gaze. Instead, you keep your eyes locked on your hands, clasped tightly in your lap. A moment of silence passes until Josh speaks.

“Hey,” he whispers. “Sweetheart. Look at me.”

The gentle plea is all you need to hear. And when your eyes lock, you are slightly surprised to not see a shred of sympathy in those baby blues that you loved. Instead, Josh is staring at you with the utmost understanding and care.

“You aren’t a burden,” he tells you, his fingers tightening around your hands. “Not to me, not to anyone else. If you need help, we’ll help you. Because that’s what you do: help the people you love.”

This time, the tears that come aren’t heavy with frustration and sadness. Instead, they are happy – Josh’s words making your heart both ache and mend. His gentle assurance that he would be there for you feels more healing than any of the physical therapy you had already gone through. Josh shoots you a soft smile, his hand lifting to wipe the moisture away from your skin.

“Come on, let’s cheer you up, yeah? Do you want me to call your injury buddy? Have him come over?”

You let out an unsteady laugh at his suggestion. He was referring to Joel Edmundson, the defenseman being a close friend of yours far before you the two of you became, as Josh said, ‘injury buddies’ – you with your knee and him with his back.

“Are you alright with waiting on both of us?” you quip, the words playful but still twinged with some lingering fear. A fear that Josh immediately silences with his smile.

“Absolutely. Well, Eddy might have to fend for himself but for you, anything.”

“Don’t be mean,” you laugh in response to his joking words. Josh’s grin brightens when he hears your lighthearted tone return. “Okay,” you say, “Yeah, call Joel.”

Josh lifts himself from the carpet next to the sofa where he had been kneeling, pressing a quick kiss to the crown of your head before he moves to the kitchen where he must have dropped his cellphone when he came in.

“Hey Josh,” you call out to him, bringing his attention back to you. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“Always.”

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[myussytastelikeapple]

THEY ARE SO CUTEEE IT MAKES MY HEART MELT (Kinda wish it was me) I LOVE HIS SMILEE

(Also the hands up the jacket?!??!?!?!?!!!)

AND HE LOOKS SO HOT LONG HAIRRRR AHHHHHH

(Screaming without the s)

[ash5monster01]

A Dead Poet’s Holiday

Warnings: fluff, alive Neil, minor mentions of past trauma, comfort, lots of teasing, mentions of drinking

Summary: Every year the boys make sure to get together for Christmas. After ten years they discover some things can’t always stay the same.

word count: 4.2k

Masterlist

1969

Charlie has never sprinted faster in his life, an older woman cursing him when he bumps her a little too hard on his way along the platform. He couldn’t afford to be late, if he was he’d never hear the end of it. So with his unbuttoned coat flying behind him and the briefcase along with presents spilling from his arms he makes it in the Subway doors just in time. Shutting closed and allowing himself to finally breathe as he rides uptown. 

The same went for Meeks and Pitts who had just made their train from Connecticut to the Big Apple. Already craving the comfort of Neil and Todd’s Upper West Side Apartment. It didn’t matter that they all had to squish on air mattresses in the already too small living room and share one bathroom. Anything was better than this train. Especially for Pitts whose neck already hurt from trying to catch some sleep against Meeks' much lower shoulder. 

For Knox it was a bit easier, opting to drive himself this year, and even if it was a five hour trek he figured there was no timeline when he was in charge of his travel. As usual all the boys were making the journey to get together for the Holidays. It was important for them to see each other around Christmas, remind themselves how lucky they were to have each other. They all had survived a soul crushing experience together and they were lucky to be out in the world and living it as best they can. 

Which was why even Cameron was included, him taking the first flight out to New York City and so grateful he had kept all his friends. Charlie wasn’t entirely fond of this but it didn’t matter. Whatever Neil wanted he got and Charlie would never dare try and say no. So he put on a happy face even though he often wanted to slap one off of Cameron’s. It was Christmas after all, a time to be with the people you love and celebrate with each other. Cameron may be a fink but he also understood them, came from the same roots they did, and for that it was enough to be included.

“Sorry I’m late, why does it smell like that-.” Charlie stops in his tracks. He had just barely made it through the doorway. He eyes Todd at his desk in the corner of the living room, typing feverishly away on who knows what. That’s when an apron wearing Neil stumbles out of the kitchen with a sheepish look on his face and a cloud of smoke pillowing behind him.

“So I have good news and bad news.” He grins as if this sight shouldn’t be concerning. What concerned Charlie more was that Todd was too distracted to even notice the chaos behind him. Had the apartment burned down he’d be partly to blame. 

“What’s that?” Charlie asks, dumping his items down on the second hand couch he not so long ago helped them haul up all these flights of stairs. He didn’t often like babying Neil but sometimes it just came out of him. To think he somehow became the responsible one. 

“Good news is our fire extinguisher works, bad news is that I burned the turkey. Anyone feeling pizza?” And Charlie can only shake his head as Todd rolls his eyes at the boy. Charlie is already walking towards the phone to place the order. 

“I can grab it when I pick up Meeks and Pitts from the train station.” Todd offers and Charlie nods as the line connects with the young girl unfortunate enough to work the weekend before Christmas. He could only imagine the hoards of people last minute Christmas shopping and stopping in for a quick slice. Getting frustrated when they realized everyone else had the same idea. 

“Thanks Charlie.” Neil is quick to say when he hangs up the phone and Charlie just laughs before pulling him into a hug.

“That apron makes you look really domestic by the way.” And it’s meant to be teasing but Neil only grins because he liked his little life. Domestic and all. He spent his days running between auditions and performing in small plays all before coming home to curl up with Todd on the couch. It was all he ever dreamed of and he was so thankful to have it. One of these days he’d finally land that big role and he and Todd wouldn’t have to pull together scraps for this apartment way too nice for them. 

“The briefcase makes you look professional.” He counters back and Charlie only nods because he had to agree. The honest truth was there wasn’t much in it except for some quick paperwork and snacks. He still wasn’t quite sure what everyone else on Wall Street had in theirs. 

“I’ll be back, be good.” Todd calls and both boys wave as they settle on the couch and watch the blonde boy rush out the apartment. 

“So tell me about work?” And that’s how the old best friends get into deep conversation over their life and endeavors. Sharing the good and the bad and the details about the pretty brunette girl Charlie met in a bar last week. It’s as if nothing had ever changed but also everything had. At least they still had each other. 

“Hey, anybody home!” The familiar shout of Knox comes muffled through the door, followed by his hand slapping against the wood. Neil hops up quickly to let them in and both Knox and Cameron laugh at the sight of the apron tied around his waist. 

“Sorry we’re late for dinner Mom.” Cameron grins and Neil glares as he helps take some of the presents out of Knox’s hands. They all filter in, looking just as scrambled and worn from travel as Charlie did a half hour ago. 

“Gentleman, Merry Christmas.” Charlie says from his place on the couch as they all get settled in. Cameron is quick to tug the striped scarf off his neck and eye the apartment that was decorated to the best of Neil and Todd’s abilities. A tree too small for the space tucked away in a corner and covered in homemade paper ornaments. Hung over the windowsills was string popcorn, desperate to make the space more lively even though it was probably made from some meant to be Neil and Todd’s dinner one night. 

“Seems you’ve made yourself at home Nuwanda.” Knox grins at him, moving to shake his hand once all the items are free from his arms. Neil neatly stacking the presents everyone brought under the tree. By the time everyone got here the stack of presents would be taller than the tree itself but it didn’t matter. At least they were together. 

“Considering I’m here getting roped into things all the time it makes sense.” Charlie says, having spent more time in this apartment than his own since living in New York. Really it was just a short subway ride away. 

“Where’s Todd hiding?” Cameron asks as he takes both him and Knox’s coats to hang by the door. Neil chuckles as he finally unties the apron from around his waist, already over the harassment that had been coming from his friends. 

“I had an accident with dinner so he’s picking up a replacement. Oh and Meeks and Pitts.” Neil tells them and they nod knowingly like this wasn’t surprising at all. After all they were all prep school kids, no one taught them how to cook. It was a miracle any of them had survived without the school or their mothers cooking for them. 

“So Charlie, how’s the big job?” Knox asks, settling onto the couch beside him. Sometimes he regretted staying back in Vermont, especially when he saw his friend’s lives here. Yet he’d never change what he ended up with. 

“Me? What about you Mr. Big Time, head of his own firm. Congratulations” Knox’s cheeks tint red in the colored lights of the small tree beside him. About a month ago he had been promoted, more than likely courtesy of his father but from all his hard work too. It was also about work life balance, the only thing keeping him sane was the poetry class he taught after hours at the public school and his lovely wife. 

“Thanks yeah, it’s a lot but it’s nice. I make good money and now I’m just looking forward to settling down.” Everyone chuckles at the ever romantic boy in front of them. It was no surprise to any of them that Knox was just ready to build a real home with his wife Chris who was stupid enough to marry him. How he ever convinced her in the first place was beyond all of them. 

“What about Cameron, working towards being Mayor. Very noble” Knox directs the attention from him as he lightly applauds the red headed boy. Yet his hair wasn’t as dark anymore, already fading with age. The curse of politics. 

“Kiss ass” Charlie pretends to cough into his sleeve and Cameron glares at the boy he couldn’t believe he was still stuck with. Dorming with him all those years had to be torture enough. 

“I’ll have you know Nuwanda, that the citizens love me.” He states with a hand on his chest, no interest in his teasing or dissecting of his life and job. So what he was a rule follower, why would he need to cause trouble when he had Charlie for that. 

“Oh I’m sure.” Charlie agrees with that tone of his, always making Cameron question if it was genuine or not. More than likely not. 

“Still cool you’re doing it Cameron, maybe one day there will be Governor and even President in your future.” Neil encourages, intervening before Cameron started to take Charlie’s teasing too seriously. Some things would never change. 

“Oh please let me die by then.” Charlie mutters as he looks up to the ceiling, hands clasped together like a prayer and that earns him a glare from both Neil and Cameron. 

“Thanks Neil, it’s pretty cool. They gave me an office in the town hall and everything.” Charlie really wants to laugh, tease him considering he had his own office on the 27th floor with a view, but he knew to let Cameron have his moment. After all, he did grow from constantly harassing the kid.                                                                                     

“Look at all of us, another prized graduating class of Welton’s elite.” Knox grins and that makes all of them laugh, basking in the absurdity of it all. Especially since back then they would’ve done everything to fight it. Now they were all contributing members of the working class and somehow managing it too. 

“Hey, what's so funny?” A somehow even taller Pitts asks, a frizzy haired Meeks behind him holding a stack of four large pizzas. After the familiar click of the door Todd joins them and they are officially all together for the Holidays. 

“Hey, how was the train?” Neil excitedly asks as he stands to join them and free up their arms. Forever a good host. Yet the roll of both boys' eyes shows the train was as it always is. Boring and uncomfortable. 

“It got us here, how’s Broadway?” Meeks asks as Todd takes the pizzas from him. Neil grins like the cat that caught the canary. See it didn’t matter if he hadn’t made it big yet, he was doing what he loved and that was something so truly special. Maybe he had been cut off, hadn’t heard from his family in years, but at least he got his greatest wish. Plus he still had his friends.

“Magical.” Is Neil’s only response and Meeks somehow understands before helping organize the presents he and Pitts had brought. 

“We better eat before the food gets cold, help yourselves.” Todd grins as he gestures to the table with the stack of pizzas and now the added paper plates and plastic silverware. The boys don’t need to be told twice, having traveled all day and desperate for some sustenance. 

Their chatter is quickly replaced by the pop of champagne, Charlie grinning as he holds the bottle up like a trophy. The sight is followed by cheers from each of the boys as they get settled and Charlie pours a healthy amount into plastic cups for them each. Christmas as how it should be. Good pizza, lukewarm champagne, glowy Christmas lights, and all of them together. It didn’t matter that the streets of New York were bitterly cold and most of them lived hundreds of miles apart. They’d always have each other, understand one another, and live life the Dead Poets way. 

“Okay, updates people. Let’s hear em!” Charlie says after a while of small talk and making all the food disappear. They’re dispersed around the living room, no one with a proper seat, but it’s the most comfortable any of them have ever been. 

“Um well me and Meeks landed our first job.” Pitts offers, the two of them having been trying to navigate their engineering degrees in the city of their alma mater. They didn’t want to return to Vermont and New York just seemed too big so they stayed put. 

“Hey that’s great you guys.” Cameron grins and that brings a smile to both the boys faces. It was hard starting from the bottom of the ladder but pretty soon they’d get somewhere. Just like Charlie. Somehow the most rambunctious of them all ended up the most successful in a life he didn’t want. It was weird how the world worked. 

“I meet with a publisher after the holidays.” Todd nearly whispers and shocked faces fill the room before each of the boys clap and cheer. 

“Now that’s what I’m talking about Todd, we knew you could do it” Charlie says, reaching over and patting his back and a heavy blush covers his cheeks from embarrassment. 

“I’m not published yet.” He reminds them but it doesn’t matter because his friends are excited. Besides who wouldn’t publish Todd Anderson. 

“Believe it or not but I met a girl.” Cameron offers to bring the attention off of Todd. He wasn’t nearly as shy anymore but he still struggled with so much attention on him at once. After all they had been through Cameron was happy to pull their focus away. Even if it was embarrassing for him.

“Have you talked to her yet?” Pitts asked and Cameron’s glare made everyone laugh, Cameron being the biggest victim to how sheltered they were growing up. He just gaped at women like a fish until he was twenty five and even after that it was only proper conversation he was able to make with no eye contact. 

“Yes, her name is Lisa. She’s a secretary and we met at the local bar. Didn’t give me much of a choice, just sat down and said I was buying. Who was I to say no?” And the boys all chuckle at this admission, of course Cameron would fall for a girl who bossed him around. That might be the only thing to make sense in the world. 

“No shit.” Knox grins and Cameron realizes the teasing has passed when all his friends look genuinely happy for him. 

“I have an audition for a lead part next week. I probably won’t get it but if I do you’ll all receive opening night tickets.” Neil tells the group with a smile he can’t suppress covering his entire face. Yes he was broke, scraping by to live this life, yet right now with his home full of love he couldn’t be any happier. Hope was something he wasn’t yet used to. 

“We’ll all be here.” Meeks confirms as if it was no doubt Neil would get the role. The confidence in his ability makes Neil feel on top of the world, or it could be the two glasses of champagne. He wasn’t complaining either way. 

“I’m going to be a Dad.” Knox drops his bomb, a soft smile on his lips, and the admission stuns everyone silent. They all eye one of their eldest friends, trying to imagine him as a father, raising a child that could go through all the same things they did. 

“Not a chance.” Todd is the first to say and the boy laughs, shaking his head at his blonde friend before taking another long sip of his champagne. 

“We found out a week ago, I was freaked out obviously but we’ve been married a year and I have a good job. It’s the right time and she’s really excited.” The look on his face is one of contentment, happy with the cards he had been dealt. Yeah he did end up working in law like his father but he also filled all the other empty spaces with the things that would make him happy. That’s what was important. Balance. 

“Knox, that's amazing! Congratulations!” Neil cheers, hopping up to pull him in a hug and Knox accepts it. He held all the same fears for his future child as the other boys did but at least they could support each other. He knew his child would have six really great Uncles. 

When Neil lets him go the other boys follow suit, muttering congratulations and embracing him with love and support. Life was changing and they were getting older, even the world was progressing, growing and accepting everyday. Yet what needed to stay the same did, which is why Charlie is quick to pour another round of drinks before holding his cup in the air with that same confident smile he’d worn his entire life.

“To the Dead Poets and the future class.” Charlie says, shooting a wink at Knox. The boys all repeat the words, hitting the plastic cups together before putting back more of the champagne. 

With Charlie’s encouragement and enforcement, it’s not long until each of the poets are feeling the alcohol. Cheeks warm in the same apartment and eyeing the soft snow that’s beginning to flutter to the ground. The Bing Crosby vinyl Neil put on an hour ago spinning with no sound as the Holiday surrounds them. It was so much more magical than any winter spent at Welton. It was the kind of night meant to be enjoyed, embraced. 

“Let’s go ice skating.” Todd breaks the silence, head turning to him quickly. Todd spots each of their confused faces before rolling his eyes. “Come on, it’s a gorgeous night and I bet the tree looks amazing right now. What do we have to lose?”

“I’m in.” Charlie tips his glass in his direction and Todd grins as each of the boys consider. After all, the alcohol would keep them warm, and a little field trip never hurt anybody. No sneaking out is required these days. 

“Let’s do it, I’ve never seen the Rockefeller tree anyway.” Cameron is the next to agree and that shocks everyone on an entirely different level. Yet his agreement is what gives the rest of them the push, all of them collecting their coats, and excited to take on this next adventure.

All with refreshed drinks they hit the town, snow falling around them, and slush soaking the bottoms of their pant legs. They walk arm in arm, chattering about nothing as they make their way to the nearest Subway. This is Christmas, carefree and full of love. It doesn’t matter that Charlie keeps trying to steal Cameron’s hat and that people give them weird looks when Meeks jumps onto Pitts' back for a piggy back ride. Right now it felt like they were seventeen again, carefree and happy. That’s what was important, nothing else. 

“Now that's a Goddamn tree.” Knox is the first to say when exit the subway station and starts to blend in with the large crowd. Tourists and locals all enjoy the weekend before Christmas with one of the most beautiful sights in the world. 

“Wow.” Cameron mutters and Pitts and Meeks nod in agreement behind him. The tree is as bright as the sun, a rainbow of Christmas cheer and beauty. It’s the distraction they all need as Charlie slips to pay the attendant for all of them to skate. 

“You didn't have to do that.” Neil scolds and he shrugs, happy to provide for all his friends. Lucky they got to do this all together.

“I don't mind, come pick out your skates guys.” And the boys shuffle over, yelling sizes as they all receive a pair. None of them have ever actually skated before. Skiing was big at Welton but that was an entirely different world. 

That’s how they all end up like Bambi, trying their best not to fall as they glide out into the crowds of people skating underneath the giant tree. It’s Christmas bottled up in a moment, even when Pitts wipes out and brings Todd down with him. Knox laughs so hard he has to stop or he’ll fall himself. It’s then Charlie decides to bump Cameron who does everything not to fall. Legs spinning like Roadrunner beneath him. It’s Meeks who grabs his back and steadies him, allowing him to glare at Charlie who’s being punched in the arm by Neil for shoving Cameron in the first place. 

“I’d say this is much better than the old Indian Cave.” Neil says once they all find their footing and start lapping the rink like everyone else. It’s the most fun he’d ever had during Christmas, not a chance they could top next year. 

“Just as crowded though.” Meeks jokes and the boys all laugh, having stuffed themselves in that cave and hit their heads enough times for it to be true. There was no doubt New York City was full of people, especially during Christmas. A night like this was worth facing the crowds if they all got to be together. 

“At least we’re together, it's going to get harder and harder every year.” Todd points out and they all collectively nod, knowing life will keep going and more things will start to happen. A weekend near the Holiday’s will be harder and harder to accomplish, even with all the distance between them. 

“Yeah especially now that Knox is going to have a kid.” Pitts points out and all eyes catch Knox again, still processing this milestone and what it’ll mean for them. When that kid was born they’d no longer be the current generation, everything could change. Even the dynamics of the group. 

“I’m going to do my best.” Knox says but they know now to maybe not expect him next year, or maybe they’d return to Vermont for the Holidays. It’s not that it wasn’t exciting, in fact it was some of the best news any of them heard. What was scary is knowing this kid could go through the things they had endured and have to bear the weight of soul crushing guilt. Have the world expect something of them when they're only just a child. It made them want to protect but that was a good thing. It meant this kid was already loved more than ever and would have a support system that defied all odds. 

“We’re not worried about that Knoxious, we always make things work.” Charlie encourages, wrapping an arm around the boy's shoulder and he smiles as they each top directly in front of the tree. Looking up for what felt like miles as the dazzling Christmas lights twinkled in their eyes. 

“Yeah, we’re the Dead Poets Society after all, we live deliberately.” Todd reminds them and they all smile, memorizing this feeling of all being together just as they once were knowing change was just around the corner. Visits will become less and less but the love would always be there, no matter what milestone each of them faced. 

It’s the Christmas that changes everything, a new decade upon them. Within the next year Knox would have a little girl, eyes identical to his and bright blonde hair just like Chris’. Todd’s book will get published, hitting shelves by the summer and sky rocketing his career. Cameron gets engaged, a shock to even himself, but happier than he’s ever been. Meeks and Pitts business will take off, designing some of the largest and most intricate structures Connecticut has ever seen. Charlie will fall hopelessly and desperately in love, leaving the bachelor lifestyle behind, and eloping with the girl of his dreams. Then there was Neil, who nailed his audition just as each of the Poet’s thought. He makes it big on Broadway, and just as promised, each of them are there to see. It’s like deja vu sitting in the crowd, just as they once had a decade ago. When the curtains close they start the standing ovation, cheering loud enough to burst their lungs, knowing this time when they meet Neil outside the night will go the way it should have ten years ago. A celebration of love and togetherness like it was always meant to be. 

Finally having contributed their verse. 

a/n: I had wrote this as a Secret Santa gift for the lovely @happiness-runs but I figured you all would enjoy too. Merry Christmas ❤️

[hutchersonsgurl]

Can I have this dance? - Sean Anderson

Paring female reader and Sean Anderson

WARNING fluff

Synopsis You and your boyfriend Sean had a big fight before prom and he comes over to your house to surprise you and make it up to you

❦︎✹✧✦✷✶ ❦︎✹✧✦✷✶ ❦︎✹✧✦✷✶ ❦︎✹✧✦✷✶ ❦︎✹✧✦✷✶ ❦︎✹✧✦✷✶ 

you are lying on your bed doing homework that day you had a fight at school with your boyfriend Sean for getting in trouble with the law again. He has called your phone 5 times but you have been ignoring his calls, not wanting to fight with him

➜﹐➜➜ ➜﹐➜﹏➜﹐﹏➜﹐﹏➜﹐﹏➜﹐﹏➜﹐﹏➜﹐﹏

30 MINUTES LATER >>>>>

You hear something hit your window you don't get up till the second thud you open you walk over to your window and see Sean at the bottom he has a rope with a picnic basket

He pulls up the rope till the basket makes it to your window you just smile down at him and pull the basket in within a split second Sean climbs in through your window and enters your room

" What are you doing Sean I thought you were grounded?' you ask

"I am but nothing is gonna keep me away from my girl," He says pushing his thumb over your bottom lip

"You make it hard to be mad at you, you know that right? You say melting into his touch

"well we both know I'm an idiot and I can't go to sleep knowing you're mad at me so I brought you some food" He replies

Sean pulls out a blanket and puts it on the floor pulling out pizza and chocolate-covered strawberries

"Look babe I'm sorry for doing something stupid again I get why you are mad at me but please talk to me," He says

"I get it that you are still getting used to your stepdad Hank and you are having problems adjusting but going out and getting arrested or God forbid you got hurt I couldn't handle it I just can't. That's why I get mad each time I hear you got in trouble because I don't wanna lose you " you respond with a tear falling down the side of your face

Sean looks at you for a few minutes and sighs feeling guilty he slowly leans over and kisses your forehead and wipes your tear away

"I'm not going anywhere baby and if it makes you feel better I'll do a cross my heart promise to not do anything stupid again," He says

"Fine but you better mean it, Sean I'm serious" you reply back

The two of you make the promise and sean crosses his heart that he will not do anything like that again.

"Sooo can you stop calling me by my name now? it feels weird" he asks

"Yes babe I'm sorry for calling you by your name" you answer in a chuckle

Sean gets up and turns your stereo on and offers you his hand

"Can I have this dance with my beautiful girlfriend?" He asks

"Yes you may my handsome boyfriend," you say as you give him your hand

He presses play and the song starts to play

The two of you start dancing around your room he spins you around and he dips you a few times and eventually after a few minutes the two of you stop dancing and look into each other's eyes

"I love you so much I can't imagine my life without you" He says looking at you lovely

"I love you more then you know" you say as you kiss his nose

"Now that we made up let's go eat I'm starving" sean says as he pulls you back over to where the food was

The two of you chat and eat the rest of the night away

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

I had fun writing this I just watched high school musical 3 again and this idea came to me

NOT EDITED

[loveyu4]

AUGHHHHH

why has nobody talked about this edit i’m obsessed with it (the quality is way better on their tt)

[fulltimecatwitch]

BIG DAY FOR THE DEAD POETS SOCIETY FANDOM

[misiahasahardname]

whoever typed this (me) should explode right now

[whatcruelworldisthis]

josh hutcherson character imagines

*disclaimer i am obsessed with sean anderson but most of these imagines apply to peeta, sean and sometimes clapton so feel free to mix according to preference*

♦ - fluff

♥ - smut 18+!!

♠ - angst/hurt (with comfort)

PEETA MELLARK :

always ♠

golden ♦

lovers rock ♦

sweet ♠♦ (mentions of smut)

SEAN ANDERSON :

dearly ♦♥

inexperienced ♥♦

innocent pt. 1 ♦♠

innocent pt. 2 (final) ♦

CLAPTON DAVIS :

hopelessly in love ♦

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

guys Josh Hutcherson is so hot

would you guys like to see something for him?

[princessbun-ee]

finally got my bun bun home !!!

[myussytastelikeapple]

OUUU I WAS WAITING FOR DIS ONE I LOVE IT SMMNNM FELL IN LOOVVEE

Fuck that, I want you for Christmas-Day 9 Sean Anderson

Prompt: Sean is so needy for you this Christmas...

Pairing: Sean Anderson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 384

Warnings: PiV sex, Moaning, Begging, Orgasm Denial, Pure horny, Porn with plot

A/N: I know this one is short. but I didn't have many Ideas for this one and I was tired when I wrote this so sorry...

Sean was very horny. And what was worse is you were over. So you weren't helping.

His best friend. But you looked so sexy in those Red reindeer pajama shorts and shirt set.

He watched as your ass jiggled when you walked around. He felt his cock twitch everytime.

You always caught him making him turn red as a tomato but you didn't mind because you were in love with him.

So it wasn't much of a surprise when you were screaming his name at the top of your lungs when his parents left.

He was slamming his cock inside of you as you begged him to fuck you harder.

You moaned at the feeling of the bulge in your belly. Constantly moaning at his praise and his degrading at the same time.

He filled you up so well and you loved how he was stretching you out so much.

The pain mixed in with the pleasure and you lived for it.Felling pure bliss and ecstasy as he rammed his cock into you.

"W-What if we get on the naughty list?" You whine out innocently. He laughs darkly before kissing you neck whispering in your ear.

"Fuck that baby, I want you for Christmas and you only. This beautiful tight pussy is all I need. No presents. Baby you are the present." He moans out feeling his high approach.

"I'm gonna c-cum baby!" You cry out. "Please let me come Sean, please!" You cry out.

"Not yet baby. I wanna cum inside you first. Plus you've been a bad girl shaking your ass in those shorts." He responds in a deep grunt.

You shed a few tears ad Sean feels bad after a few minutes. He finally allows you to cum at the same time as him

His thrusts falter and stutter and he cums deep inside you. "Oh yesss! Fuck baby!" You cry out.

He moans deeply and kisses your breasts. You moan as he continues to slowly move.

You whimper feeling overstimulated but he doesn't pull out just yet. He stays inside of you feeling the warmth of your pussy engulf him in sleep.

You rest your head on the pillow as he pulls the covers over you guys and you drift to sleep with Sean and his cum still inside you.

Taglist: @hotchstanaccount @number1gal @grixonsdoll @aerangi @pinkcatgirluwu @itzdarling @bellahadidnt16 @sweet-smxt-reader @myussytastelikeapple

[senditcolton]

Work Song

if the lord don’t forgive me, i’d still have my baby and my babe would have me...

summary: when josh is faced with a season ending injury, you are there to comfort him song inspo: work song by hozier word count: 1.6k warnings: hurt/comfort, injury mention, fears & anxieties. gender neutral reader. a/n: i was not surprised that this song was the first one grabbed. hozier really just fucked around and invented romance. i don’t think i was as successful but i hope i did this song justice.

It was a rare occurrence whenever you weren’t at the Bell Centre during a Canadiens game. Usually, it took heaven and hell fighting against you to prevent you from sitting in the stands, cheering on your boyfriend Josh as he played his heart out on that smooth sheet of ice.

Or, maybe all it took was an overbearing boss to prevent you from attending.

That was the case tonight and you heave a sigh as you push through the apartment door, immediately collapsing onto the couch. You grab the remote to turn on the game, not bothering to even take off your shoes. The third period was still going on as you settle into the cushions, your body relaxing as you watch Montreal battle Tampa.

You knew the standings were dismal and that a win so late in the season would likely have no real sway over the inevitable outcome. But you still wanted the Canadiens to triumph; if nothing else, at least for Josh.

Your heartrate increases when Tampa closes the gap late in the third, making it a one goal game and the pounding in your chest does not cease when Tampa pulls their goalie in an attempt to tie it. You watch with baited breath and your heart leaps when Drouin flips the puck out of the zone, directly to Josh speeding towards the empty net.

However, your heart drops as quickly as it jumped when you see Josh gets pulled down onto the ice, colliding with the empty net and knocking it off its moorings.

You faintly register the cascade of boos fall from the fans within the arena but they are inconsequential as you watch in fear as Josh writhes on the ice in obvious pain, your anxiety spiking when he doesn’t get up on his own.

The broadcast shows the replay, discussing the possibility of a penalty and your eyes are glued onto Josh, needing to know what happened, needing to know how bad it was. Your questions are answered when a new angle is shown and it doesn’t take a medical expert to notice how his foot made impact with the post, the force of his body compressing his ankle.

When the feed cuts back to Josh still laying on the ice, the medical staff next to him and a few of his teammates skating over to help him up, your anxiety doesn’t relent. Your previous suspicions are further confirmed when Josh is finally helped off the ice and down the tunnel, using two people for support, barely placing any weight on that right foot.

There is no thinking as you grab your car keys, flying out of the apartment and racing over to Bell Centre. It was ridiculous for you to be doing this. There was only 30 seconds left remaining in the game and you knew Josh would find his way home without your help.

But you had to be there for him. Something in your bones screamed that you needed to be next to him as soon as possible.

By some miracle, you manage to get there before everyone leaves and even manage to talk to the staff who lead you to the after-game waiting area. You greet the few families and significant others but don’t pay them much mind. They do not fault you though, all of them understanding why you were there, giving you a wide berth as you settle on the couch, leg bouncing as you stare towards the elevators, waiting for Josh to appear.

The rest of the families trickle out and you sit, worried and impatient until finally the elevator dings and you leap up when you see Josh step out of the elevator on crutches, his right ankle in a temporary cast, Joel walking next to him with Josh’s bag slung over his shoulder.

There is no hesitation as you run the short distance towards him. You barely have time to register the surprise on his face at your appearance before you are pulling him into a kiss, your relief and love pouring from your lips, simply happy to see him somewhat mobile. You can feel Josh relax into you and your heart flutters at the feeling of the tension being released from his body.

“Wow, if that’s the kind of greeting I get when I’m injured, I might try and get hurt more often.”

Eddy’s voice breaks in and you pull away from Josh to shoot Joel a soft grin, always thankful for his humor. Joel returns your smile but you can see the genuine concern in his eyes.

You turn you attention back to Josh, his own blue eyes still taking you in, still registering that you were here in front of him.

“Come on, let’s go home,” you say, tilting your head towards the exit.  

The three of you wander out to the garage and Eddy helps place Josh’s bag in your trunk, the two of you forming a plan to pick up Josh’s car at some point tomorrow, before he waves goodbye and you hop into the driver’s seat of your car and start the route home.

The car ride back is silent and it remains that way as you and Josh enter the apartment, moving in tandem as you both prepare for bed, you occasionally extending a hand to help him. You let him settle into bed, preparing the pillows and grabbing a cold compress as he takes off the temporary boot and elevates his injured ankle.

You finish up the rest of your nighttime routine before crawling into bed with Josh, curling up next to his side, your head and hand coming to rest on his chest, your fingers starting to absentmindedly draw patterns on to his skin. The silence lingers for a moment before Josh finally speaks.

“I’m out for the rest of the season,” he whispers and you can feel the weight of the words as he says them. You glance up towards his face and see his eyes distant and far away from you.  

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I knew it as soon as it happened.”

“I’m sorry baby.”

You aren’t sure what else to say, so you stay silent and let Josh think, content to listen to his heartbeat and feel the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” he confesses, his eyes still turned away from you. Your only response is a hum, a gentle encouragement for him to continue, a sign that you were willing to listen, one he accepts with a sigh before speaking again.

“I’m almost 30. And this is another injury on my list. I can just feel it creeping closer; the end of my career. I don’t know how much longer I have.”

There is no stopping the pang in your heart at his words, so tinged with defeat and you have to fight back the tears that threaten to fill your eyes. Josh loved the game of hockey so much and it broke your heart to even think about that happiness being taken away from him.

You lift yourself up, propping yourself up on one elbow as you reach up to Josh’s face. Your hand gently lands on his jaw, turning his face towards yours forcing his eyes to connect to yours.

“I love you,” you say, the first words that passed through your mind falling from your lips. You watch as Josh’s eyebrows furrow and you continue in an attempt to explain your declaration.

“I know that might sound stupid or it might not be what you need to hear right now but I want you to know that I love you. I love your passion and I love seeing your joy whenever you lace up the skates. I want you to be happy which means that I want you to fight because hockey makes you happy. Don’t let anyone or anything stop you from chasing your dreams before you’re ready to give them up.”

You watch as those beautiful blue eyes soften, Josh’s lip turning up in a smile in response to your passion. He stays silent, inexplicably knowing that you had more to say and you let the intensity in your voice dissipate as you speak your next words.

“But I also want you to know that whenever it ends, whether it’s your decision or because of something that neither of us can control, I will be here. And I will still love you just as much as I do now.”

At the conclusion of your confession, you look back at Josh and find him staring at you with such tenderness that it makes your heart ache. One of his hands raise to brush against your jawline and you don’t stop yourself from leaning into the warmth of his palm against your skin.

“Do you want to know the first thing I thought about when I went down? The first thought that cut through the pain?” he asks, his thumb tracing the edge of your cheekbone. You give a slight nod in affirmative, eyes glued to him, intent to hear what he had to say.

“I wanted was you there with me. That was the only thing I wanted when I was laying on that ice. But soon I remembered that you weren’t in the stadium. And that thought pushed me to get up. That need to be by your side helped me push through the pain because I knew I had to get back to you. Even if this was the end, if this injury was finally what beat me, I had come home to you.”

Josh pulls you closer to him and you do not fight against him as he brings your face towards his until your foreheads are pressed together, lips barely brushing.

“I love you too,” he murmurs. “More than you will ever know. And I will always find my way back to you.”

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[myussytastelikeapple]

BROO THIS EDIT IN PARTICULAR GOT ME IN A CHOKEHOLD LIKE GOOD BOY? HIM GETTING ON HIS KNEES?! (ima faint)

Also lil announcement

I just took a break from writing for a lil bit but now I’m BACKK onn trackkkkkkkkkkkkk I’ll start writing today/tomorrow

[lefteagleblizzard]

Hi, I’m lefteagleblizzard.

I’m a simple soul who finds joy in writing and drawing during my free time, if I’m not playing video games.

My wattpad and ao3 account

MASTERLIST

𝒥ℴ𝓈𝒽 ℋ𝓊𝓉𝒸𝒽ℯ𝓇𝓈ℴ𝓃' 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓈

All of these can be found on ao3 and wattpad

𝓜𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓼𝓬𝓱𝓶𝓳𝓭𝓽 (𝓯𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓼 𝓪𝓽 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓭𝓭𝔂'𝓼)

-ℳ𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓈ℯ𝓇𝒾ℯ𝓈 ℴ𝒻 ℳ𝒾𝓀ℯ 𝒮𝒸𝒽𝓂𝒾𝒹𝓉 𝓍 ℳ𝒶𝓁ℯ 𝓇ℯ𝒶𝒹ℯ𝓇:

ℭ𝔯𝔲𝔰𝔥 𝔞𝔠𝔯𝔬𝔰𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔱 (𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 1) Fluff and smut

𝔚𝔢𝔢𝔨𝔢𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔰 (𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 2) Fluff and smut

𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔣𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱? 𝔑𝔬, 𝔒𝔲𝔯 𝔣𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 (𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 3). Angst and smut

𝔙𝔢𝔦𝔩 𝔬𝔣 𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔯 ( 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 4). Smut and angst

𝔏𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 (𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 5) angst and smut

𝔉𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔳𝔬𝔦𝔡 ( 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 6) fluff and smut

𝔖𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔣 (𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 7) fluff and smut

𝔐𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔠𝔱 (𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 8) fluff

𝔒𝔲𝔯 𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡 ( 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 9) fluff and smut

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔴𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔱 ( 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 10) fluff and smut

𝔖𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔞'𝔰 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔟𝔬𝔶 ( 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 11) fluff and smut

𝔈𝔞𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰 ( 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 12) fluff and smut

𝔑𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔶 𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔱 𝔞𝔰𝔰𝔞𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔫 ( 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 13) fluff and smut

𝔄𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔪𝔢𝔯𝔠𝔶 ( 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 14) fluff and smut

𝔓𝔩𝔞𝔶𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢 ( 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 15) smut

𝔖𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔢𝔰s (Mike schmidt x gn reader). Super fluff

𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖚𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖉𝖞 (Mike Schmidt x gn reader). Fluff and smut

𝕱𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖉𝖚𝖘𝖐 𝖙𝖔 𝖉𝖆𝖜𝖓 (mike schmidt x gender neutral reader) . Fluff, angst and some flirty moments

𝔚𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔣𝔲𝔩𝔩 𝔟𝔯𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔢𝔶𝔢𝔰 (Protective Mike Schmidt x gn reader). Angst, super fluff and smut

𝓓𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓴 𝓭𝓪𝓷𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓱 (The beekeeper)

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔱'𝔰 𝔰𝔬𝔫 (Derek Danforth x male reader). Fluff and smut

𝔏𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔰 (Derek Danforth X gn reader). Fluff, smut

𝕬 𝕶𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖆𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖌𝖆𝖑𝖆 (derek Danforth x gn reader). Smut, fluff and a little angst

𝕻𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖔𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖗𝖔𝖔𝖒 (Derek danforth x gender neutral reader). Pure smut

ℒ𝒶𝓉ℯ 𝒸𝒽ℯ𝒸𝓀ℴ𝓊𝓉 𝒜 ℛ𝒾𝓉𝓏-𝒞𝒶𝓇𝓁𝓉ℴ𝓃 𝓈𝓉ℴ𝓇𝓎

𝔐𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔞𝔫 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔠𝔦𝔢𝔴. Allusion to smut

𝓑𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂 (𝓑𝓾𝓻𝓷 2019)

𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔠𝔯𝔦𝔪𝔢 (Billy burn x gn reader). Smut

𝓢𝓮𝓪𝓷 𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷 (𝓙𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓮𝔂 2 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓜𝔂𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓲𝓼𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓭)

𝕴𝖘𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖊 (Sean Anderson x gender neutral reader). Fluff and smut

𝓒𝓵𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓸𝓷 𝓭𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓼 (𝓓𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷)

𝔅𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔣𝔞𝔠𝔢 (Clapton Davis x gn reader) Enemies to lovers. Fluff.

𝕬 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖗𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 (Clapton Davis x gender neutral reader). pure fluff.

𝒥ℴ𝓈𝒽 ℱ𝓊𝓉𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓃 (ℱ𝓊𝓉𝓊𝓇ℯ ℳ𝒶𝓃)

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔨𝔦𝔰𝔰 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔟𝔶𝔢 (Josh Futturman x gender neutral reader).

ℬ𝓇ℯ𝓉𝓉 𝒟𝒶𝓁𝓉ℴ𝓃’ 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓈

𝔅𝔢𝔱𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔴𝔬 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔨𝔰 (Mike Munroe x male reader x Grant Ward). Angst, fluff and smut

𝔄 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔬𝔯'𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔡 (Grant Ward x male reader). Angst and smut

𝒰𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝒟𝒶𝓌𝓃

ℳ𝒾𝓀ℯ ℳ𝓊𝓃𝓇ℴℯ

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢 (Mike munroe x male reader). Fluff and smut.

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲 (Mike Munroe x male reader). Angst and happy ending.

𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫 (Mike Munroe x male reader). Angst and smut

𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 (Mike munroe x male reader). Fluff and smut

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥 (Mike munroe x male reader). Angst and smut

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥 (Mike Munroe x male reader). Smut and angst (Part 2 of the Selfish path).

𝔉𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢'𝔰 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔪 (Mike Munroe x virgin male reader). Smut

𝔅𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔶 𝔰𝔲𝔭𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔱 (Mike Munroe x male reader). Fluff

𝔉𝔯𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔟𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔲𝔱𝔥 (Mike munroe x male reader): Angst, Fluff and smut

Vampire Mike Munroe small imagine (gender neutral reader). Allusion to smut.

ℑ𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔞 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔨 (Mike Munroe x male reader). Angst and smut

𝔒𝔲𝔯 𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔱 (Mike Munroe x male reader). Small amount of angst, Smut and fluff

𝔉𝔯𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔘𝔫𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔥𝔢𝔡 (Mike Munroe x male reader). Smut and angst

𝔖𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔤𝔬𝔱 𝔞 𝔤𝔯𝔦𝔭 (Mike Munroe x male reader). Smut and fluff

𝔗𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔫-𝔢𝔶𝔢𝔡, 𝔠𝔬𝔠𝔨𝔶 𝔟𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔡 (Mike Munroe x male reader) Smut

𝔄𝔩𝔩 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰, 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔫𝔬𝔴 (Mike Munroe x male reader). Smut

ℌ𝔞𝔯𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔥𝔦𝔡𝔢 (Mike Munroe x male reader). Smut and angst

𝒜𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝒶𝓁ℯ𝓈 𝓍 𝓂𝒶𝓁ℯ 𝓇ℯ𝒶𝒹ℯ𝓇

𝔇𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔰 (Until dawn males x male reader). Fluff and smut.

𝒫𝔞𝔱𝔥 𝔯𝔢𝔧𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔡 (Until Dawn males x male reader). Fluff and smut.

𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔢 (Until Dawn males x male reader). Fluff and angst

𝔄𝔩𝔩 𝔢𝔶𝔢𝔰, 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔰, 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔢 (Until Dawn males x male reader). Smut

𝔊𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔴𝔫 (Until Dawn males x male reader). Angst

𝓦𝓮𝓭𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓭𝓪𝓰

𝓣𝔂𝓵𝓮𝓻 𝓖𝓪𝓵𝓹𝓲𝓷

𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖞 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖘 Tyler Galpin x gender neutral reader (vampire reader). Pure fluff

𝓓𝓮𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓲𝓽 𝓫𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓱𝓾𝓶𝓪𝓷

Connor RK800

“𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖞 𝖜𝖔𝖐𝖊 𝖚𝖕" : yandere connor models x gender neutral reader.

The androids have won the war and you, along side other mechanics, were forced to stay in Detroit as their medics. The more time passed, the more they got attracted to you, until finally they took what they wanted the most.

This has multiple chapters and only the first is available on tumblr, the rest of the chapters are on ao3 and wattpad

[hutchersonsgurl]

UPCOMING Fics

A Date Night - Mike Schmidt

You mean everything to me- Daryl Dixon

Oh professor- Mike Schmidt

Devil Wears Prada- Negan Smith

Somethin about you- Shane Walsh x reader

Darling, I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream- Rick Grimes

You are gonna wish you were dead -Clapton Davis

Hella good- Clapton Davis

You are going to be the death of me, Sean Anderson

Mr Jealous - Mike Schmidt

Do I listen to my heart? Clapton Davis