#//Jim is excited though

[iamenits]

[thatonecrookedsmile]

Before the month started, I had made my own tierlist of projects and announcements that are/will be shown during the special FNAF anniversary week based on how excited I was/am for them. The highest ones are the ones I'm most interested in and the lowest ones are the ones I'm…not.

I did this at the end of July, and only now did I remember to post it here.

The week is going well, but it's this second half that will be more interesting.

OG Tierlist/Template.

[dweemeister]

July 10, 2024

By Tim Grieving

Before John Williams believed in himself as a conductor, the general manager of the Los Angeles Philharmonic believed in him.

Ernest Fleischmann was a savvy and powerful impresario, born in Germany in 1924, raised in South Africa to escape the Nazis, a frustrated conductor and journalist who managed the London Symphony Orchestra for eight years and ran the European classical division of CBS Records before coming to Los Angeles in 1969 and transforming a “provincial second-rank orchestra,” as L.A. Times critic Mark Swed wrote, “into one of the world’s best.”...

... When Fleischmann saw Star Wars with his kids on opening weekend in the summer of 1977, he thought to himself: God, this score! “It’s really the score and the sound effects that have made that movie what it was,” he later said. “It was almost Wagnerian.” The LA Phil was scheduled to tour Japan that fall, but the tour was canceled at the last minute when the promoter went bankrupt. With his orchestra suddenly freed up, and Star Wars totally consuming the culture, Fleischmann saw a plum opportunity; he paid a visit to John Williams’ Brentwood home and asked the composer if the LA Phil could perform music from Star Wars in a concert of space-themed music. Williams said “Fantastic,” and created a special 28-minute suite from his already super-famous, record-breaking score.

The resulting concert on November 20th, 1977 at the Hollywood Bowl—the iconic outdoor summer home of the LA Phil—was a galactic party designed for young families, complete with a laser light show and readings by William Shatner. The sold-out audience went crazy for it, but the event also highlighted the deep tension between anointed priests of “high culture” and the hoi polloi. “We were criticized very heavily,” recalled Zubin Mehta, the LA Phil’s music director who conducted that night. “Our critics and colleagues said that we had sold our souls to Hollywood. It was really a children’s concert.” The grumpy L.A. Times critic Martin Bernheimer called it “artistic prostitution.”

Fleischmann didn’t care. He had the LA Phil repeat the “Music from Outer Space” program at the California Angels’ baseball stadium in nearby Anaheim, and he commissioned an album of the Star Wars suite and Williams’ new Close Encounters suite, recorded at UCLA’s Royce Hall in December 1977 by Mehta and the orchestra. According to veteran classical music broadcaster Jim Svejda, it was the first time a major American orchestra treated film music “in a very serious way. I think it made a very dramatic statement.”

[candied-cae]

The way that Stede treated Izzy during episode 3 were some of the ONLY times I could stand seeing Izzy on screen so far this season because it finally felt like someone who recognized him and was treating him rationally tbh

I adore this show and the people who worked on it, but ffs, it feels like they all enjoyed Con too much and the Izzy-Enjoyers Fanon of his character last season and jumped the gun on his redemption arc.

I'm going to go through and explain this more, but I just wanted to put that out there first while I lay out why Stede's expressions and reactions make so much more sense coming out of season 1's events.

[soulfire-of-void]

Thoughts on Agent Stone?

despite reblogging a lot of stuff from it i actually haven't seen any of the sonic movies yet! i think he's neat from stuff that i've seen but i haven't gotten a chance to see him in his natural habitat yet

[leaderwonim]

THE WORLD NEVER ENDED | JACK HUGHES

pairing. jack hughes x fem!reader (ft. platonic quinn & luke hughes x fem!reader + male!oc x fem!reader)

genre. childhood best friends to lovers, ANGST, fluff, hurt to comfort, reader & jack are both 18-19 in this!

synopsis: Y/N and Jack Hughes have been inseparable since childhood, spending every summer at his family’s lake house—until his hockey career takes off and leaves her behind. As Jack’s life moves forward and Y/N tries to do the same, the distance between them grows in ways neither of them expected. But when their paths cross again at a breaking point, they’re forced to confront everything they never said and the feelings that never really went away.

The lake house never changes. It still smells like pine and sunscreen, the same old dock creaking under your feet, the same late summer breeze curling through the trees. But this time, you’re the only one here.

You let the beer bottle dangle from your fingers, the glass sweating against your palm as you stare at the still water. It’s late. Too late to be out here alone, and your mom would probably kill you if she found out you were underage drinking, but you’ve been doing this since you were kids—sneaking down to the dock past midnight, toes dipping into the water, whispering about everything and nothing at all.

Except this time, Jack isn’t here. Not really. Not anymore.

The last time you saw him was months ago, after another whirlwind season, after Team USA, after everything. He’d come back, same easy smile, same stupidly messy hair, same Jack. And yet, he wasn’t.

He moved too fast, talked too much about things you weren’t a part of, laughed at jokes from teammates you didn’t know. He had an entire life outside of this town, this lake, this dock. A life that didn’t include you.

It wasn’t his fault though, you couldn’t blame Jack for being excited about this whole new chapter in his life, not when he’s worked his ass off so he could secure a spot in the NHL in the future.

You took a shaky breath, watching as the wind blew the waters back and forth, your thought raced with Jack, Jack, Jack. It wasn’t anything new; you had been in love with him since you had learned what the word love even was, when Ellen and your mom teased you two endlessly after your eighth birthday, declaring that you’d two get married when you were older.

And then he left, at age fourteen to go train at some hockey camp over the summer and you started seeing him less and less. Then he left again for USA Hockey, and all that was left of him was the little times he’d pop up on your screen for a FaceTime, or a quick selfie.

You never told him that it felt like the world had ended whenever he left.

❥

The first time you met Jack Hughes, he was seven years old, standing knee-deep in the lake, grinning like he had owned the world.

“You scared to jump in?” he teases, squinting up at you from where he’s splashing around.

You cross your arms, standing barefoot on the dock, the sun burning hot against your skin. “I just don’t wanna get my hair wet.”

Jack laughs like you just said the funniest thing in the world, and before you can react, he launches a handful of water in your direction. It splashes against your legs, cool and shocking, and you gasp.

“You jerk!” you shriek, but Jack’s already laughing, already diving into the water, swimming just far enough out of reach that you can’t get him back.

You don’t know it then, but that’s how it starts.

The Hughes family’s lake house becomes your second home. Your parents are close friends with Ellen and Jim, and summers are spent tangled in sunburns, mosquito bites, and the smell of bonfires. Jack, being just a few months older, quickly becomes your shadow—or maybe you become his.

You race bikes down dirt paths, climb trees until your hands are covered in splinters, and stay up late whispering under blanket forts in the Hughes’ living room, trying not to wake Luke and Quinn.

“You think we’ll still be best friends when we’re older?” you ask one night, voice sleepy, cheek smushed against your arm.

Jack frowns at you, like you just said something ridiculous. “Duh. Who else am I supposed to hang out with? My brothers?”

You grin brightly, shoving him. “You promise?”

He holds out his pinky. “Promise.”

And that’s that.

As you both get older, things don’t really change. Not at first.

Winters are spent at the Hughes’ house in Michigan, watching Jack skate for hours at the rink, your fingers numb from gripping a hot chocolate too tight. Summers are still for the lake house, where the days blur together in a haze of sun, water, and laughter.

Jack is your best friend. The one who sneaks you extra s’mores when the adults say no. The one who ties your skates when your fingers are too cold. The one who always picks you first for street hockey, even when Luke complains about it. The one who knows everything about you.

And you know everything about him, too.

That he gets grumpy when he’s hungry. That he has to listen to music before every game, or else he feels off. That he’s already dreaming about the NHL, about Team USA, about everything that seems so far away but somehow already feels like it’s coming too fast.

You don’t realize when things do start changing.

Maybe it’s when Jack turns fourteen and starts spending more time away at tournaments. Maybe it’s when you turn fourteen and realize your heart speeds up whenever he looks at you a certain way.

Maybe it’s the summer you turn fifteen and see him talking to a girl from town, and something ugly coils in your stomach. You don’t say anything, though. You can’t.

Jack is your best friend. That’s all. Even if you wish it wasn’t.

When Jack is sixteen, everything does change.

It’s the Fourth of July. The lake house is packed, fireworks already popping in the distance. You and Jack sneak away from the party like you always do, climbing onto the dock and lying side by side, watching the sky.

“You excited for the USA team?” you ask, your voice light, like the thought of him leaving doesn’t make your chest ache.

Jack turns his head to look at you. “Yeah,” he says. “Kinda nervous, though.”

You smile a little, the same smile that had reassured Jack every time he saw it. “You’ll be fine.”

He shifts closer, his arm brushing yours. “You think so?”

“Of course,” you whisper. “You’re Jack Hughes.”

He laughs, but it’s softer this time, almost hesitant. The air between you feels different, thicker, heavier. His fingers twitch on the dock beside yours, and for a second, you swear he’s about to reach for your hand.

But then he exhales sharply, sits up. “We should get back.”

And just like that, the moment is gone.

You stare at the fireworks exploding in the sky, feeling like something inside you is breaking.

Jack leaves for Team USA at the end of the summer.

And you don’t know it yet, but nothing will ever be the same again.

❥

At first, you still talk all the time. He calls after practices, FaceTimes you from hotel rooms, sends you stupid selfies from road trips. And for a while, it almost feels normal. Almost.

But then the calls get shorter. The messages come slower.

You see his name on headlines, hear people at school talking about him like he’s some distant star instead of the boy you grew up with. And suddenly, he feels… far away.

Not just in distance. In everything.

And then one day, you realize you don’t remember the last time he called.

You don’t text him, either. You figured he was too busy anyways—too busy with hockey, with interviews, too busy for you.

His absence leaves a hollow space inside you, one you don’t know how to fill. So you try.

That’s how you end up with him.

Aiden West. Star quarterback. Tall, broad-shouldered, with an easy smile and dimples that should make your heart flutter.

You meet at a party—one you only went to because your friends dragged you out of your house, tired of you spending your nights holed up in your room, pretending you weren’t waiting for a text that never came.

Aidan’s nice. He’s funny. He buys you drinks and calls you baby and kisses you like he means it.

You tell yourself this is good. That this is what you need.

But when he holds your hand, it doesn’t feel the same. When he kisses you, you don’t melt the way you think you should. And when you close your eyes, it’s not Aidan you see.

It’s Jack. Always Jack.

Quinn comes home in December.

You’re not expecting to see him, not really. Ever since he was drafted, he spent all his time in Vancouver, busy with his own life, his own team. But one night, you walk into the Hughes’ house, and there he is, sprawled on the couch like he never left.

“Quinn?” you blink.

He smirks, sitting up. “Hey, kid.”

You roll your eyes but smile anyway. “You’re, like, a few years older than me. I’m not a kid.”

“You’ll always be a kid to me,” he teases, but then his expression softens. “How’ve you been?”

You shrug. “Good.”

He gives you a look, like he can see right through you. Because of course he can.

Quinn has always been quieter than Jack, more observant. He was the one who bandaged your scraped knees when you and Jack were too reckless, the one who ruffled your hair when you had a bad day, the one who watched you grow up and somehow always knew what you were feeling before you even said it.

And right now, you can tell he knows you’re lying.

“You still talk to Jack?” he asks casually.

You stiffen. “Not really.”

Quinn nods, like that’s what he expected. “He’s been busy.”

“I know,” you say quickly, too quickly. “It’s fine.”

He studies you for a moment. Then, his eyebrows furrow. “You dating that football guy?”

You hesitate. “Yeah. Kinda.”

Quinn tilts his head, his expression unreadable. “You like him?”

You swallow. “He’s… nice.”

Quinn leans back, crossing his arms. “You know, I’ve seen you happy before.”

You furrow your brows. “And?”

“And that’s not what you look like right now.”

The words hit deeper than you want them to. You look away, staring at your hands.

Quinn sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m not trying to tell you what to do. If you like the guy, great. But don’t force something that isn’t real just because—” He pauses.

You glance up. “Just because what?”

Quinn meets your eyes, and for the first time, his voice is gentle. “Just because Jack hurt you.”

Your throat tightens.

You don’t say anything. You don’t know what to say.

Because he’s right. And maybe that’s the worst part of all.

❥

Aidan is kind when he breaks up with you.

That almost makes it worse.

You can tell he’s been thinking about it for a while. The way he exhales before he starts speaking, the way his hands stay tucked into the pocket of his hoodie like he’s afraid if he moves too much, you’ll see how much this is bothering him.

“You’re not really here, Y/N,” he says, voice steady but laced with something bitter, something tired.

You don’t argue, because you know he’s right.

He sighs, shaking his head. “I like you. I really do. But I deserve someone who looks at me like I’m the only one they’re thinking about.”

Your stomach twists.

“Aidan—”

“It’s fine,” he cuts in, forcing a small smile. “I knew. I think I always did.” He swallows, glancing away before meeting your eyes again. “It was never gonna be me, was it?”

You want to tell him you tried. That you wanted to feel something more, something real. But the truth is, no matter how hard you tried, he was never Jack.

And that was never fair to him.

So instead, you whisper, “I’m sorry.”

He nods, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “Yeah. Me too.”

A few days pass, and you still feel hollow, like you’re floating through life without really being in it.

You don’t know why you still go to the Hughes’ house. Maybe it’s habit. Maybe it’s because it still feels like home, even when things don’t feel the same anymore.

Maybe it’s because, deep down, you just need someone who knows you.

Luke opens the door, and before you can even say anything, his face twists in concern.

“Okay, what’s wrong?”

You pause. “What?”

Luke steps aside to let you in, closing the door behind you. “You have your sad face on.”

You frown. “Luke Hughes, I do not have a—”

“You totally do,” he interrupts, flopping onto the couch. He gestures for you to sit next to him, and after a moment, you do.

There’s a beat of silence before he says, “Quinn told me everything.”

You freeze. “Everything?”

Luke gives you a knowing look. “Yeah. And I’m not an idiot, Y/N. I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at Jack since we were kids.”

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

Luke sighs, leaning back against the couch. “Look, I know he messed up. Jack is kind of known for that. And I know you’re hurt. But…” He hesitates. “You still love him, don’t you?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “Luke—”

“Just be honest,” he says gently.

Your throat tightens. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I do.”

Luke nods like he already knew that was coming. Then he pulls something out of his pocket and holds it out to you.

You frown. “What’s this?”

“Tickets,” he says simply.

You blink. “Tickets?”

“To Jack’s game against Finland.” His voice is casual, but there’s something behind it—something careful, like he knows he’s walking a fine line. “I was gonna go, but I think you should instead.”

Your heart stops.

“Luke…”

“Don’t overthink it,” he says quickly. “Just go. See him. Talk to him.”

You stare at the tickets in his hand, your pulse pounding in your ears.

This is a choice. A chance.

And to be completely honest, you aren’t sure if you’re ready.

❥

You end up deciding not to go until the last minute.

The plane ticket burns in your hands, Luke’s voice echoing in your head: Just go. See him. Talk to him.

So you do. You land in Finland, stomach in knots, trying not to think about what you’ll even say to him. If he’ll even want to see you.

But then the game happens. And Jack loses.

The scoreboard tells you everything—3-2, Finland. A brutal, heartbreaking end.

Jack stays on the ice, shoulders hunched, wiping his face as the Finnish players celebrate around him. You can see the way he’s blinking rapidly, how hard he’s trying to hold it together.

It doesn’t work.

By the time he’s in the tunnel for postgame interviews, it’s like the weight of everything finally crashes over him. The cameras capture everything; his red-rimmed eyes, the way his lips tremble when he speaks, the way his voice wavers when he says, “I feel like I let everyone down.”

Your heart cracks wide open. You don’t think. You just go.

You push through the lingering crowd, through the halls of the arena, heart racing. And then—there he is.

Jack is leaning against the wall, head bowed, gripping a water bottle so tightly his knuckles are white. His shoulders shake slightly, like he’s trying to get a grip, but he’s losing the battle.

You inhale sharply, willing yourself forward.

“Jack.”

His head snaps up, eyes widening. And for a second, he just stares.

Like he doesn’t believe you’re real.

“Y/N?” His voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.

You nod, stepping closer. But before you can say anything else, Jack clears his throat and quickly swipes at his face, straightening up like he’s trying to compose himself.

Then he blurts out, “How’s Aidan?”

You freeze.

Jack lets out a broken laugh, looking down. “Quinn told me you had a boyfriend,” he mutters, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I—uh, I’m happy for you. You deserve that.”

You swallow hard, your chest tightening. “Jack—”

“I mean it,” he interrupts, still not looking at you. “I always wanted you to be happy.”

He sniffles, pressing his thumb and forefinger against his eyes. He looks exhausted. Worn down in a way you’ve never seen before.

And suddenly, it’s too much.

The space between you. The months of silence. The fact that he still doesn’t know the truth.

You move before you can stop yourself, closing the gap and wrapping your arms around him.

Jack stiffens, sucking in a sharp breath.

But then—slowly, so slowly—it’s like something inside him gives in.

His hands grip your back, his face pressing into your shoulder, and he melts.

You feel his shaky exhale against your neck. The way his fingers curl into the jersey you’re wearing with his name on the back, like he’s afraid if he lets go, you’ll disappear.

And for the first time in a long time, you feel whole again.

“I don’t—” Jack’s voice cracks. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

Your throat tightens. “Then don’t. Just just let me be here.”

Jack exhales shakily, nodding against you. “Okay.”

Despite your reassurance, he still feels like he’s falling.

The weight of the loss, the pressure, the expectations, it’s all crashing over him, relentless and suffocating. But in the middle of it all, there’s you.

And when you pull back slightly, just enough to look at him, he realizes you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

Your hands stay on his face, thumbs brushing against his damp skin, and there’s something in your expression, something soft and certain that makes his chest ache.

Then you move closer, tilting your head, and suddenly, suddenly—your lips press against his.

Jack stills.

Then, all at once, he melts into you.

His hands slide to your waist, gripping onto you like you’re the only thing keeping him standing. Your lips are soft, warm, familiar, but new at the same time, like something that was always supposed to happen but never did.

It feels like breathing again. Like finally getting it right.

But then, Jack realizes and he blinks, something clicking in his mind as he pulls back abruptly, still holding onto you but panting slightly.

“Wait,” he says, voice hoarse. “Aidan.”

You shake your head quickly. “We broke up.”

His brows furrow. “What?”

You exhale, your hands sliding from his face to his wrists, squeezing lightly. “Jack, I tried to move on. I tried so hard.” Your voice wavers. “But it was never him. It was always you.”

Jack’s lips part slightly, his breath hitching.

Then, suddenly, he laughs—a broken, disbelieving sound before his face crumples, his eyes shining again.

And just like that, he’s crying.

He presses his forehead against yours, squeezing his eyes shut as his grip on your waist tightens.

“You have no idea how bad I wanted you to say that,” he whispers, his voice shaking.

You smile softly, brushing his hair back. “I think I do.”

Jack lets out a shaky exhale, his hands fisting the fabric of your jersey, like he’s terrified you’ll disappear if he lets go. But you don’t.

Because after everything—after the distance, the silence, the missed chances—you’re still here.

He sniffles, pulling you into another tight hug, burying his face in your shoulder.

❥

Later, when the chaos dies down and the arena empties, you end up in Jack’s car.

The heater hums softly, filling the silence, the city lights casting faint shadows across the dashboard.

Jack sits in the driver’s seat, head tilted against the headrest, his eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. You’re next to him, legs curled up on the seat, leaning against his shoulder.

It’s quiet.

Not awkward. Not heavy. Just comfortable.

Jack sighs, nudging his cheek against your hair. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”

You smile faintly, reaching for his hand. “Me neither.”

He squeezes your fingers, his grip warm and sure. “I thought I lost you.”

You shake your head, squeezing back. “You never did.”

Jack exhales, his body relaxing against yours, and for the first time in a long time, hfeels whole again.

❥

The lake house feels the same the next summer.

The scent of pine and sunscreen still lingers in the air, the dock still creaks under your feet, and the water still glistens under the late afternoon sun. But this time, Jack is here. And this time, he’s yours.

He had turned freshly nineteen last month, but still was the same annoying boy you had known since you were seven.

You sit on the old wooden dock, legs stretched out, the warm breeze tangling your hair. Jack is lying beside you, one arm draped lazily over his forehead, his other hand resting on your knee, tracing absentminded patterns over your skin.

It’s quiet, just the sound of the water lapping against the shore and the occasional laughter from inside the house, where Quinn and Luke are probably chirping each other over something stupid.

Jack sighs, turning his head to look at you. “I missed this.”

You smile, threading your fingers through his. “Me too.”

He studies you for a moment, his eyes soft, warm, completely yours. Then, without a word, he tugs you down so you’re lying next to him, your head resting on his chest.

“You know,” he muses, fingers trailing up and down your back, “last summer, I thought I’d never get this back.”

You inhale slowly, letting his heartbeat ground you. “Me too.”

Jack tilts his head, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “But we made it.”

You lift your head, meeting his gaze. “Yeah,” you whisper, smiling. “We did.”

He grins, the kind that makes your heart skip a beat, then flips you onto your back, hovering over you with that look—the one that reminds you he’s still the same Jack, the same boy who used to splash you in the lake, who used to steal your s’mores when you weren’t looking, who used to be your best friend before he was everything.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Luke’s voice echoes from the house, and you both groan.

Jack turns his head, scowling. “Luke, I swear—”

Quinn’s voice cuts in. “Let them be, Luke. They suffered enough.”

You laugh as Jack rolls his eyes. “I hate that he’s right.”

You shake your head, pulling Jack back down. “Just kiss me already.”

He smirks. “Gladly.”

And as his lips meet yours, the sun dips below the horizon and the lake glistens around you, making you realize everything is exactly the way it’s meant to be.

It isn’t until Luke pretends to fake barf that Jack removes himself away from you, opting to chase down his little brother.

“Boys, am I right?” Quinn says, giving you a grin.

You wrap your arms around him, never feeling as whole as you did now.

[keerysfreckles]

from the start | QUINN HUGHES 43

pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader & (kind of) jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: after being in love with jack for forever, y/n comes to a realization he isn't the brother who's had her heart the whole time.

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, jack is kinda an asshole, mention of a panic attack, makeout session, not proofread, this is a long fic im sorry i got carried away 😔😔

a/n: lake house hughes brothers fics always make me FOLD (yes this was inspired by tsitp)

masterlist ! | requests are open

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

y/n loved summer.

y/n loved going to the beach or on the lake every single day. she loved the smell of salt water when she drove to the hughes' lake house every summer. she loved her birthday being in the beginning of june, meaning she'd get cake and presents and time with her favorite people on her day. she loved going to fairs almost every weekend and getting sick with the youngest hughes brother after eating their weight in fried foods. she also loved jack hughes.

the day y/n stepped foot into the hughes' lake house at the ripe age of three years old, she knew she was going to love it there.

y/n sat impatiently in her mothers car as she drove to the lake house. this was the first summer y/n convinced her parents to let her go by herself. her father would be busy with work this summer anyway, and y/n thought her mom might want a house to herself for a while.

y/n sat in the passenger seat, legs tucked against her chest as she texted luke throughout the trip. even though her and jack were the same age, she was always closer to luke.

speaking of jack, he had texted the girl himself, asking if she was almost to the lake house, knowing it would just be her staying the summer.

her heart flipped when she saw his name come up at the top of her phone. she held in a giggle as she texted him back.

y/n couldn't help but love jack. she knew she was in love with him since she was ten years old. it was the day he comforted her after her bike got ruined by quinn, when he "accidentally" forgot to bring it inside. the kids soon found out the next morning that it got ran over by a car, making both wheels messed up and the plastic cracked.

ever since she can't help but be drawn to him, and it wasn't changing this summer.

sure they were all older, and this is the first summer in three years where all brothers would be in the lake house.

luke and jack would always be busy with hockey when quinn wasn't, and vice versa.

y/n practically jumped out of the car before her mom even put it into park.

"y/n!" her mom begins the scold her, but the girl is already getting her bags out of the trunk.

"sorry mom, just excited," she smiles.

"now you know all the rules right?" her mom asks as she stops next to the driver's side window.

"yes mom," y/n rolls her eyes.

her mom takes in a quick breath of air, "just mind your manners, and have fun, okay?"

y/n nods, "love you mom" she calls out as she runs up the driveway, hearing a response from her mom before she drives off.

she can't even get her hand up to knock on the door, when luke opens it eagerly.

"you're here!" he laughs before dragging her into a big hug.

"i'm here!" she laughs with him, before going into the house.

the two begin to catch up, considering they haven't seen each other in at least a year. their busy schedules just did not line up.

y/n pauses their conversation to run up the stairs to the bedroom that's been claimed as hers. jim and ellen hughes gifted her the room as a thirteenth birthday present, and not much has changed in the room.

the walls were still baby pink. they used to be filled with bright colored posters out of magazines, and now were filled with pictures filled of her and her friends, and the three brothers.

the glow in the dark star stickers were still on the ceiling, making her giggle slightly.

she didn't bother unpacking now, content with throwing her bags on her bed.

she walked down the hardwood in the hallway, stopping by jack's room. she peaked her head in the cracked door, but frowned when there was no sign of the middle child. she continued down the short hallway towards quinn's room.

she repeated the process from jack's room, and smiled once she saw the oldest brother.

she catches him off gaurd with her knock on his door, making him pause as he was in the middle of putting away clothes from his hamper.

"hey, you're here," he warmly smiles at her, letting her enter his room. "sorry, i didn't here you come in, or i would've been downstairs."

"you're all good," she smiles back as he opens his arms for a hug. "do you know where jack is?" she asks as they pull away from each other.

quinn knew she would ask sooner or later, so he was mad at himself for letting his smile falter.

"he's picking up a friend right now. she's supposed to stay the next week," he explains.

once he sees y/n's smile falter as well, he's quick to change the subject. "are you excited for your birthday?"

y/n's smile is quick to return as she nods, "it feels like i've been twenty-two forever," she drags out the last word, making both of them laugh.

"oh by the way, when jack gets back we're all going on the boat," quinn exclaims, telling her to change into her swimsuit.

the two bid goodbye as y/n practically skips back down the hallway towards her room. she loves nothing more than being on the lake with the brothers. it's her paradise away from paradise.

however her current bliss is lost as she remembers she packed her swimsuits at the very bottom of her bag. she groans, realizing she'll have to unpack anyway to retrieve them.

she does her best to unpack quickly, not wanting to make anyone wait to start their summer festivities.

finally after nearly ten minutes of unpacking, all of her shorts, t-shirts and dresses were in their designated drawers in her worn out dresser.

she kept her swimsuits laid haphazardly in her suitcase, considering she always mix-matches tops and bottoms anyway. no need to put them in a drawer.

she grabs two pieces; a pair of black bottoms with white polka dots, and a yellow top with thin straps connecting behind her neck and back.

as y/n was upstairs getting changed, the three brothers, along with jack's friend, gabriella, were waiting in the boat for y/n. jack and gabriella already had swimsuits on under their clothes, and luke and quinn were fast to change.

"can't we leave already? i'm like baking out here," gabriella groans, leaning her head back against jack's arm thats behind her, and fanning herself off.

luke shakes his head as quinn responds, "no, we're waiting for y/n."

gabriella simply groans again, as jack is unusually quiet, but stays connected at the hip with her.

speak of the devil, y/n is running out of the back door and down the wooden dock. she has a towel, sunglasses, and container of pineapple in one hand and her phone in the other.

quinn and luke both chuckle at her frazzled state, even though this is usually how she comes out to the boat.

"just in time," luke pats the seat next to him. y/n gladly sits down on the hot material, and quinn starts the boat.

"oh, jack you made it!" y/n smiles, until she notices how close him and his friend are. "hi, i'm y/n," she holds her hand out.

"gabriella," the girl simply replies, making y/n awkwardly put her hand back in her lap.

to avoid any upcoming awkwardness, luke questions, "whatcha got there?" pointing to a plastic container besides y/n's leg.

she holds it in front of her, making him chuckle.

"what is with you and pineapple?"

"what? it's good!" she defends, before putting it in the cooler filled with ice, water, seltzers and beers.

the five on the boat make small talk (really it's luke, quinn and y/n talking in the front, while jack and gabriella as whispering at the back), before quinn stops the boat in an empty clearing. y/n helps luke with the anchor until the metal can't go any farther down into the water.

"race you to the water," luke pokes y/n's side.

"not fair!" she responds, having to catch up to him at the back of the boat.

she jumps in right after him, and quinn is quick to follow, splashing both luke and y/n in the process.

"you guys coming in? or are you just gonna canoodle the whole time?" luke interrogates the two left on the boat.

"you did not just say canoodle," y/n cringes.

"i did," luke nods proudly, "and i'll say it again."

y/n and quinn both begin splashing luke before he can let any other nonsense slip from his lips.

fifteen minutes pass, and quinn and luke are having a backflip contest off the back of the boat, with y/n being the judge.

even with the amazing title of being the backclip contest judge, she couldn't help but advert her eyes towards jack.

the way his hair practically glowed from the sunset behind him. the way his eyes seemed to shine brighter with the blue waves reflecting off of the them. the way his eyes crinkled when he smiles at the story gabriella told him. the way he played with gabriella's blonde hair. the way he was rubbing his thumb over gabriella's thigh.

y/n now felt like she was going to throw up.

"okay," luke pops up from under the water, "who had the better backflip that time?"

"what?" that broke y/n out of her trance.

"the contest," luke reminds her, "who won that time?"

"uh, sorry i wasn't paying attention."

luke splashes her, "some judge you are."

quinn however noticed y/n's small change in demeanour, then looked in the direction she was just looking in, putting together what had made her gone sour.

of course the other hughes brothers knew about y/n's infatuation with jack. it hasn't lessened over the years, and the only one who hasn't noticed was jack.

"you guys wanna start heading back?" quinn asked the two in the water, "mom said they're doing a barbeque tonight."

luke and y/n nod, both excited about the traditional first night barbeque. ellen and jim always made too much food, but their hearts are always in the right place.

after luke gets on the boat, quinn leans down to help y/n. her skin is quick to fill with goosebumps, not yet prepared for the slight breeze and setting sun.

she wraps her towel around her before sitting, but the cloth only dries her from the lake, instead of keeping her warm.

"you cold?" quinn asks as he sits down in the drivers seat in front of y/n.

"yeah, and i forgot to grab a shirt," y/n admits, now realizing how excited she was to get on the boat to forget to grab one.

quinn silently hands her one of his vancouver canucks shirts that he was wearing earlier.

was it an excuse to see her wear one of his shirts again? maybe. and no, this wasn't the first time this scenario had happened.

she mutters a quick thank you, and slips the warm shirt over her body. it bunched up around her waist.

as quinn pulled away back in the direction of the lake house, y/n couldn't help but let her curiosity peak as she turned her head towards jack and gabriella.

gabriella was laying down, with her head in his lap while he ran his fingers through her hair. y/n could only wish she was in gabriella's position. she felt foolish sometimes when it comes to her feelings with jack. she felt as though he'd never feel the same, or she'd never be enough for him. but his green eyes and perfect smile, and beautifully warm personality pulled her back in every time.

y/n looks away, feeling foolish again as she wipes her eyes of the tears starting to form. she's twenty-to for gods sake. she shouldn't be feeling like this.

as luke and quinn continued talking near the front of the boat, y/n brought her knees up to her chest and leaned her head against quinn's back.

she let the sound of the waves, the lull of the boat, and the warmth radiating off of quinn help relax her. she wasn't going to let jack and some dumb blonde ruin her summer.

wait, she didn't say dumb out loud, did she?

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

y/n woke up the next morning, now regretting her decision to go straight to bed after the barbeque, and not bothering to change out of her swimsuit or shower. she was still wearing quinn's canucks shirt.

no one could blame her though. watching the guy you've been in love with forever latch onto someone else the whole day made her have a low appetite, and all she wanted to do was sleep.

she picked out a simple outfit, consisting of black jean shorts and a baby pink tank top. she ran towards the upstairs bathroom, thankful to hog all the hot water before anyone else could.

with her shower completed and hair finally brushed out, she went back into her room, but was surprised to see quinn laying sideways on her bed.

"i didn't think anyone else was awake," she pulled quinn's gaze away from his phone.

"no one else is, just me," she nods at his response.

"what exactly are you doing in my room at eight in the morning?"

quinn sits up, "we're going to the bakery down the road and picking up bagels for everyone," he explains.

"and i have to go with you why?" she asks, however she starts putting on her shoes anyway.

he shrugs, "you just happened to be awake." 'i just want more time with you' he thought, but couldn't tell her the true reason.

"fine quinnifer, lead the way," she used the nickname she knows he hates, but he lets out a low chuckle before leaving her room.

y/n loves being in the car with quinn, simply because he lets her be in control of music. jack and luke never let her.

she picks her summer playlist before telling quinn all about her most hated class this past semester at umich. he listens intently, and even interjects with a few reactions.

as quinn parks in front of the small bakery, y/n decided to wait in the car, insisting she can't miss her favorite song.

y/n lets her eyes wander. they look over to the beach on her left, maybe she can convince the brothers to go there for her birthday tomorrow. she then watches a family walk into the bakery. the two parents and happily swinging a little girl between them. then her eyes switch to quinn at the counter. she watches his smile grow only slightly when he steps up to the counter to order. she looks over his dark brown hair, and how soft it seems this morning. her gaze shifts to the slight stubble starting to grow on his chin. she notices the viens in his hands she's never noticed before as he grabs the plastic bag from the worker.

she jumps out of her trance when quinn unlocks the car, making her realize she was just checking quinn out.

checking. quinn. out.

she must've been getting sick, or maybe she was just really hungry. she never thought of quinn romantically. it was always jack. the only time it had gotten remotely close to that with quinn was when he visited her at her dorm room 'just because'. he surprised her with concert tickets to her favorite artist, got her a new lego set, and a basket full of her favorite snacks.

"you okay over there?"

y/n jumps slightly, but nods, "yeah, why?"

"you like zoned out pretty hard."

y/n nods again, "i'm fine."

quinn doesn't question it, and starts driving back to the house. he takes notice of the way y/n fidgets with the plastic bag now in her lap, but doesn't bring it up.

the two finish the drive in silence, the only noise being the pop songs playing from y/n's playlist.

quinn and y/n enter the house, and hear shuffling in the kitchen. they expect it to be luke, or ellen or jim, but it's jack and gabriella.

jack and gabriella kissing.

jack has her pushed up against the kitchen island, lifting her shirt slightly while she's grabbing onto his hair like her life depended on it.

y/n feels her insides flip and she just looks down at the floor as she lets out a shuddered breath. was it selfish she thought she'd never see jack with anybody besides herself? yes, but she knew that.

"hey," quinn catches their attention, "are you done shoving your tongue down your friends' throat?" he eyes jack. "we got breakfast."

y/n can't look at the sight of jack and gabriella. she feels like an idiot. a hopelessly in love, idiot.

"i'm not hungry," she mumbles while walking behind quinn before jogging upstairs and walks towards her room.

she groans on frustration as she feels tears pool at her eyes. she can't believe she's crying over this. she can't believe she's been in love with jack for so long, for it to go no where between them.

she thought he was distant yesterday, but she thought that might've been jet lag, or first day tiredness. she didn't think it was her fault.

she didn't think she did anything wrong towards jack, so why had he been off towards her?

was it only towards her? has he been like this with luke and quinn before they arrived to the lake house?

a knocking takes y/n out of her own head, however that's when she realizes she's started struggling to breathe. her flowing tears aren't helping the situation either.

"y/n? are you okay?" quinn's voice is calm outside. a complete three-sixty to how y/n is feeling on the inside.

she tries to answer, but nothing comes out but a strangled whine.

quinn comes inside. his eyes widen slightly at the girl in front of him.

"woah, woah, woah," he immediately walks over to her and wipes under her eyes. "you're okay," his voice is soft, but her heartbeat over powers it.

"c'mere," he brings her closer, so close that her head is pressing against the bottom of his collar bone. he rocks her slowly back and forth, glad when he feels her arms reach around his torso.

she shudders against him as her body keeps shaking, something she didn't notice was happening before.

"i feel so stupid," she admits. her voice is muffled and shaking against quinn's body.

quinn shakes his head, "you're not stupid y/n."

y/n nods in disagreement, "but i am quinn," she sniffles, "i've been in love with jack for years and he's only hurt me more than he's cared about me. i've practically thrown myself at him, and he just doesn't see me. he'll always see me as a little sister, or luke's best friend."

"that's not true y/n," quinn argues again.

y/n pulls back, her breathing slightly better than it was before.

"but it is true quinn. he was the only one that didn't come to my high school graduation. you and luke did, hell even your parents did. he was the one to forget to pick me up at the airport, so i had to wait for an uber to go to his game. and at another game when they won, he hugged all of you guys, except for me. he couldn't even look in my direction when him and luke met us after the game. i don't know what i've done wrong to him, i just don't quinn."

y/n doesn't realize her breathing has only picked up again, making her last few words slur together and come out fast and breathy. quinn simply pulls her back against him.

"i'm sorry," y/n cries into his chest, now all of her emotions colliding with one another, making her cry again. "i'm sorry quinn."

quinn is quick to shush her apologies, muttering comforting words, in between placing kisses over her hair.

the two stayed like that for about five minutes, before quinn noticed y/n's breathing even out again, and her sniffles stopped. he didn't mind how tear stained his shirt was right now, he only cared if y/n was okay.

"would a bagel cheer you up? i can go get one and bring it up here for you," quinn offers, "we can even watch a movie if you want. just hide up here."

y/n nods and whispers, "yes please."

quinn kisses her one last time on the top of her head, and rubs her back once more before exiting her room. she figures she'll get comfortable, so she changes into sweatpants and gets under the covers, waiting for quinn to come back.

minutes later, quinn returns with two paper plates. he hands y/n the everything bagel.

"an everything bagel. one side with cream cheese and the other side with butter," quinn watches a smile show up on her face.

"did you-"

"yes i toasted it."

"thanks quinn."

for the rest of the day, quinn does his best to get y/n's mind off of jack. if he was being honest, he knew this day would come eventually. the day y/n stopped having feelings for jack.

he knew it would happen when he got a call from y/n at two in the morning. jack had dragged her to a party, but then left her there, claiming he found the hottest girl to go home with.

y/n embarrassingly called quinn to come and pick her up.

if she called him any time, anywhere, he'd pick her up in a heartbeat.

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

quinn and y/n weren't sure when they fell asleep, or how long they'd been asleep, but both were startled awake with luke's consistent knocking on her door.

"we're making a fire if you wanna join!" he calls out, before they hear his heavy footsteps walking downstairs.

"so glad to know he's not worried about where i am," quinn jokes while stretching.

y/n turns and laughs with him, and feels a blush creeping up her neck as her eyes lock onto quinn's shirt riding up slightly. letting her eyes get a peak at his boxers peaking out from his shorts. she quickly averts her gaze before she gets caught.

"do you want to change into something warmer? i can just meet you outside by the firepit."

y/n nods, "jeez it's already getting dark? how long did we sleep?"

quinn finally checks his phone, "six hours," he shows his phone to y/n, making her see a bright '4:00 pm'.

she only chuckles, "i'll meet you out back q."

he decides to ignore the flutter in his heart at the use of his nickname. he closes her door behind him and makes his way downstairs.

when y/n arrives outside, now adorning one of luke's devils hoodies, she takes the only open camping chair left opposite of quinn. him and jim are standing and talking, while every one else is sat around the fire.

"hey sleeping beauty," luke jokes as y/n sits down beside him.

"yeah, yeah," she ignores with a smile on her face.

however her face drops involuntarily at the sight of jack and gabriella. they're sitting in one camping chair, gabriella on jack's lap, as he's whispering god knows what in her ear to make her laugh like a hyena.

y/n simply turns and starts a conversation with luke.

"are you excited for your birthday tomorrow?" luke asks.

y/n nods eagerly, "yeah, i've always loved having my birthday at the lake house."

"well i just know you're going to love my gift," luke smiles.

"i love your gifts every year luke."

the two chuckle before luke excuses himself to use the bathroom. this leaves y/n alone with her thoughts.

her interesting thoughts. her very recently quinn obsessed thoughts.

she tries justifying it though. how can she not? he helped her get over a panic attack earlier in the day, and honestly has been nothing but sweet to her since she's gotten here. something jack hasn't even thought about doing.

y/n took her time by herself to truly think about where she stood with jack. sure, he probably didn't know about her insane feelings towards him, and maybe that was for the better. just like before, she feels like such an idiot for now wasting years of her life on a boy who would never even fathom dating someone like her.

maybe it's better this way, she thinks, as he eyes now look over towards quinn. he's still talking with jim.

y/n is enthralled by the way the orange hues of the fire light his face. he's wearing a backwards baseball cap, that y/n simply wants to take off to see his soft long hair underneath.

her eyes roam over his face. over his relaxed eyebrows, and the way his eyes move from listening to jim to watching the fire crack and spark. over his perfect nose. the nose she's only recently thought about kissing. over his cheeks and the way his stubble is growing, making him look more manly (and more hot in y/n's opinion). over his curved lips, as y/n wonders what it would feel like to k-

quinn's eyes meet hers.

she got caught like a deer in headlights.

but she can't look away.

and neither can he.

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

"happy birthday to you!"

a chorus of off key singing comes to an end as y/n blows out the candles of her personal red velvet cake. all three brothers would always make fun of her for red velvet being her favorite. she simply just thought it was prettier than every other cake flavor. plus it tasted amazing with cream cheese frosting.

however all three brother's weren't present. only two were. luke and quinn. one on each side of y/n on the large couch, as ellen and jim sat on the loveseat besides them.

y/n didn't want to admit it bothered her, but he always there with with her on her birthday. but when she realized gabriella wasn't in the house either, she had a good feeling neither of them would be showing up any time soon.

ellen and jim gave their present first, loving how excited y/n got when she opened the box to find even more pairs of mix-matchable swimsuits. they knew her a little too well.

luke got her two lego sets. one new marvel one of groot, and a set of sunflowers to put with the other lego flowers both him and quinn have gotten her over the past few years.

quinn was next, and to say y/n was shocked would be an understatement. the bag was small, and she pulled out a tiny white box. inside was a silver necklace, how quinn knew she wore silver and not gold, she'll never know. there were two dainty charms on the chain, and she held it closer to get a better look.

the one on the left was a hockey stick, which made her giggle since it just felt fitting for her. even though she's never played a game of hockey, it's surrounded her her entire life.

the second charm is the letter if her first initial, with the tiniest sparkling gems inside.

"q, i love it," she's quick to wrap her arms around him, before hugging luke, as well as jim and ellen.

just as she clasps the necklace around her neck and adjusts it, the front door opens.

jack and gabriella walked in hand and hand, surprised to see everyone sitting in the living room, staring at them as they arrived.

jack looks around, and notices the cake and opened gifts scattered on the coffee table.

"oh, um, happy birthday y/n," jack sends her a smile, as well as gabriella, but she knows neither of them mean it.

"thanks jack," she immediately begins playing with the new necklace, a habit she didn't know she'd have.

"why don't you go get your gift for her jack?" ellen suggests.

jack awkwardly looks between his mom and y/n.

"i forgot to get her something, sorry."

his voice was low, and talked as if she wasn't in the room with them.

y/n shakes her head, "it's fine, really."

jack nods, before grabbing gabriella's hand and leading her upstairs, until they hear a door close.

"i swear we have to go talk some sense into that boy," ellen exclaims.

jim agrees, and the two get up and go towards their own room, honestly not feeling like dealing with their middle son's raging hormones.

the rest of the day practically revolved around y/n. she got to pick whether they hang out in the pool or go on the lake (obviously she picked the lake). she picked which movie to watch while the group ate leftover barbeque. then she got to pick where to go out for dinner. she sat in between quinn and luke (quinn pulled her chair closer to him before she sat down, not that she'd notice) and ate the most amazing lobster roll she thinks she's ever had.

as the night started winding down, everyone went into their bedrooms. however y/n wasn't tired yet, even after showering and finally letting the birthday excitement leave her body.

for probably the thirtieth time this week, her mind can't help but be drawn to quinn. but also to jack.

she was certain she was over jack. her hopeless little crush on him over the years has finallt fizzled out like a sad firework. and honestly, she feels like a weight has been lifted off her.

years of trying to impress him, and look good for him, and try to make him laugh, all down the drain.

but she wasn't sad about it.

her mind then drifted back to quinn. her hand subconsciously reaches for the necklace, moving the charms back and forth on the chain.

was she falling for the wrong hughes brother this whole time? she thought.

quinn has always been nice to her. always cared about her, physically and emotionally. she remembers when she was eight, him being ten, and him worrying about her when she got heartbroken when she lost her favorite stuffed animal on the way to the lake house.

that whole first week he tried cheering her up by bringing her stuffed animals from his own room, to try and find one she loved.

she giggled at the thought.

she wondered what quinn was doing. was he asleep already? or watching one of his favorite tv shows? maybe he's downstairs getting a midnight snack. it'd probably be leftovers from dinner.

she wondered how he was doing right now. was he upset at jack for forgetting her birthday earlier? or was he happy y/n had a good birthday regardless of the middle hughes mishaps.

the more y/n sat and pondered over the oldest hughes brother, the more she realized she's falling.

this wasn't exactly an over night sensation however.

don't get her wrong, she did have an insanely long crush on jack. but something about quinn managed to captivate her and draw her in closer to him over time.

"shit," y/n whispers.

she's fallen for quinn hughes.

she decides it's just her delirious and tired state doing all the thinking right now. she gets out from under her warm covers. maybe a splash of cold water on her face will help. she's seen it in movies, so it must work.

what she didn't know, was that the boy on her mind was standing right outside her closed bedroom door. he's been there for no longer than three minutes. his hand was in his pocket, a third charm encased in a little mesh bag. one he didn't think she'd want. but one he knows he needs her to wear.

he's made up his mind. screw jack for messing up his chances in the past. quinn knew he was in deep when it comes to y/n. he was just an idiot for not doing anything about it before. all because he knew how y/n felt towards jack. he didn't want to be in the middle of anything. but in reality, it was jack being in the middle of quinn and y/n.

quinn debated on turning back around and just going to his room. he didn't even think of the possibility of y/n being alseep.

he still knocked.

well, he would've knocked. if there was a door there.

y/n and quinn were now inches apart from each other.

"hi," she whispers.

"hey," he whispers back.

"i didn't think anyone was still awake," she voices.

quinn shakes his head, "just couldn't sleep."

a moment of silence passes as the two simply look into each others eyes. eyes that are saying a million words, yet their mouths aren't moving.

quinn takes a step towards y/n, and she doesn't move back.

"can i ask you a question?" he asks.

she nods, "yeah, anything."

quinn takes a deep breath, "please tell me you're over jack."

"what?" the question catches y/n off gaurd, before she can truly respond.

"before i do this, just," he pauses, "please tell me you're over jack."

y/n nods, but her eyebrows are still scrunched in confusion.

"i need to hear it," quinn responds.

"i'm over jack."

after those three words leave y/n's lips, quinn takes ahold of y/n's jaw, bringing his lips to hers.

just as y/n was about to move her hands to hold onto quinn's waist, he pulls away, still leaving only inches between them.

their mingled breaths linger between them, but not for long as y/n pulls quinn towards her, kissing him again. it's more emotional than the last kiss, filled with longing and desire.

y/n pulls on his black long sleeve shirt, pulling him into her room. without disconnecting their lips, he closes the door behind him. quinn's mouth moves to her neck, kissing and sucking lightly at the skin, as her hands roam to his front, reaching underneath his shirt.

"wait," quinn pulls away, both of them now panting. "i have one last gift for you."

y/n watches him reach into his pajama pants pocket, seeing something silver peeking out of a mesh bag.

"quinn, what is-"

"this might be really stupid, but it was a good idea at the time. um," he pauses, dropping the contents on the bag into his palm. y/n gasps at the small 'Q' charm. "if you'll be mine, i figured you might want my initial. y'know, like that one taylor swift song you love."

"quinn, oh my gosh," y/n's at a loss for words.

"can you put it on the necklace for me?" she asks him, making him nod and comply instantly.

he's quick to clasp it around the chain, falling in line with the other two charms. quinn's finger and thumb rub over the newly added charm.

"does this mean you'll be mine?"

y/n nods, and before she can get a real response out, quinn pulls gently on the necklace, drawing her towards him to push their lips together once again.

[puckinghischier]

Hiiii happy new year! I absolutely adore your quinnxreader fics! I loved the one about his brothers asking her questions and calling her all the time because they love her so much! Would you consider writing more about that?

Maybe about their dynamic in person, meeting over Christmas or summer or something!??

Have a great day!

oh listen when the four of you are together for long periods of time? you’re convinced you and quinn will never have to have kids, because you’re gonna be parenting jack and luke for the rest of your lives.

like meeting at the lake house over the summer. even if ellen and jim are there with everyone, luke and jack still bug you with any and every question they have.

“y/n! what should i eat for lunch?”

“y/n! where’s the remote?”

“y/n! have you seen my swimming trunks?”

every time you take a breath, one of them is yelling for you for help, or advice, or nothing at all. jack is a regular at shouting your name from wherever he is in the house just to show you some video on his phone, or ask you how to spell a word for a text he’s sending.

quinn and ellen have both scolded them numerous times to leave you alone and quit treating you like a maid, but you don’t tell them you secretly love it. you hate that they’re acting like toddlers that can’t fend for themselves, but you love the comfort level they have with you to do it all.

and it’s not like they don’t return the favor.

you always manage to get a summer cold when you come to the lake house. you don’t know if it’s the water mixed with the chilly nights or the fact you’re always on the go and never resting, but you somehow always get a case of the sniffles for a few days each summer.

whenever it happens, jack and luke dote on you like you’re bedridden. constantly bringing you snacks and meds and juice. asking if you need anything, watching movies with you and quinn while all four of you cuddle on the couch.

ellen never fails to snap a picture of the occasion, all of her kids (you included) safe and sound under one roof, a rare occurrence in her world.

now, you have your own moments visiting the two youngest brothers, missing them just as badly as they miss you sometimes. when quinn is away on a particularly long road trip and jack and luke have a few home games, you’re booking a flight and off to see them.

you can always see how excited they are to have you at their games, making sure you have the best seats and even buying you a custom split hughes sweater, so you never have to choose one over the other.

they tell all of their teammates you’re coming and gesture to you throughout the whole game, making sure you saw that save, or watched them score a goal.

you go out with them after games and send quinn lots of pictures of his drunk, idiot brothers singing karaoke and displaying terrible dance moves.

quinn loves seeing you have the friendship with his brothers that you do, but he always reminds them to keep you safe, his protective side coming out, even though he knows they would never let anything happen.

still, it doesn’t keep them from finding sunglasses from god knows where, drunkenly waltzing you out of bar on either side of you, gesturing for people to move out of the way like they’re your bodyguards. every move you make, they’re sending (blurry) pictures of you safely outside the bar, getting into the uber, getting out of the uber, walking into their apartment building, in the elevator, unlocking their door, walking through their door, walking to the guest room, and one final shot of you in bed with the covers pulled up to your chin, to the groupchat you’re in with them and your boyfriend.

and once the apartment is quiet and their voices are reduced to light snores, you sneak into their rooms and take pictures of them, too, feeling just as much of a responsibility to keep them safe and cared for.

christmases? now those are an event, truly.

luke and jack are on you for months to help them pick out the perfect gift for quinn and ellen, claiming you know gifts way better than they do. you even fly out to jersey for a couple days in the middle of december, finding a stretch where they have a couple home games.

you take them out shopping, coaching and making sure they don’t pick out some random scarf for their mom or striped tie for quinn and jim. they take you to do all the touristy christmas things around the city (even if you’ve done it a million times before) and make fun of how you still can’t skate, even after all the years of being with quinn.

when you all finally make it back to michigan for the big family christmas, quinn steals you away for some one on one time, of course, but it’s never long lived. one of the two man-children, as quinn so affectionately calls them, comes barging in your room eventually, flopping down onto the bed right in-between you and quinn. and once one is in there, the other gets jealous and fights his way into the dog pile happening.

“can you two go annoy mom and dad or something? you just had her for four days, it’s my turn,” quinn huffs, your quiet bubble now burst.

“well, mom and dad told us to come annoy you guys, they have to wrap presents,” luke pouts to quinn, causing him to roll his eyes and accept his fate.

christmas morning with them is always your favorite, though.

jack and luke are always so high energy, wanting everyone to open their presents from them first so they can see the reactions.

they’re just like little kids, almost blurting out what it is as the person is opening it. they always tell ellen and quinn and jim you helped them, not wanting to take all the credit for themselves. but when it comes to their gifts to you? you start to think their claims that they’re terrible at gift giving is just a rouse to get you to visit them each year, because they never fail to give you the most heartfelt gifts.

like this christmas, they had gone in together on paying an artist to paint a collage of your favorite pictures of you and quinn together, the canvasses each in the shape of yours and quinn’s initials. you had noticed the canvas shaped like a plus sign in-between the two letters is blank, not knowing why they would leave such a large section bare.

when you look up to ask them, you notice they’re standing on either side of you, gesturing you to stand up. quinn is nowhere to be found, looking around for him as you stand and follow their lead to the back door of the large house.

when they open the door you’re met with the michigan snow, falling perfectly onto a beautifully decorated archway that you hadn’t noticed the night before. you noticed the poinsettias forming a walkway to the arch, finding quinn standing there under the perfectly hung mistletoe, waiting for you.

jack and luke walk push you on, staying behind in the warmth of the house.

you walk down the snow covered path, focusing on not falling the whole way.

once you reach the end of the path, quinn grabs your hand and plants you right in front of him.

he launches into a speech about how much he loves you, and how much he loves watching you with his family, how easily you’ve become a part of it, intertwined so deeply into his soul he couldn’t let you go, even if he wanted to, before dropping down on one knee, asking you to spend the rest of your life trusting him and loving him.

you immediately tell him yes, launching your body to his once he stands, tears streaming down your frozen face. right as you go to share a kiss to seal the intimate moment, you’re broken apart by the woops and hollers of none other than jack and luke, turning your head to see them barreling down the walkway towards you two.

“oh my god! we’re getting a sister! she’s actually gonna be ours now!” jack screams, crushing you two in a bear hug that would give quinn a run for his money.

“now quinn can’t use the excuse she’s his anymore, because now she’s ours. she’s gonna be a hughes! no more stingy quinn!” luke follows up, another weight added onto the already crushing hug.

“oh god, i didn’t think this through,” quinn groans, not enjoying his brothers’ newfound claim on you.

you giggle, encased in all the hughes love.

“also, we helped plan this, don’t let him hog all the credit, here. we planned our gift so it’d be the perfect segway into the proposal!” luke rushes out, too excited to keep it in any longer.

“the blank canvas is for engagement pictures!” jack confirms, beaming from ear to ear.

they finally release you and quinn from their clutches.

“okay, you guys have had your moment, now go back inside. she might getting ready to be your sister-in-law,” quinn emphasizes the last two words, “but she’s my fiancé, so we’ve earned some alone time.”

the two brothers huff and pout as they walk off, grumbling about how they can’t wait until you’re a hughes so he can’t claim you’re just his.

before you allow yourself the time with quinn, you run after your two best friends, tackling them in their own bear hug, despite how much larger they are than you.

“thank you guys. for this, for accepting me into your family, for sharing quinn with me,” you giggle at their scoff and luke’s mumble of ‘more like we share you with him’ before continuing. “i love you two. i’ll always be your big sister, yeah? as long as you’re always my two obnoxious little brothers.”

they squeeze you back so tightly you can’t breathe, telling you again how much they can’t wait for you to officially be part of their family.

quinn watches you with them, his own heart warmed despite the snow falling, wondering how in the world he got so lucky with such an amazing family, and now an even more amazing woman to bring into it.

[daydreamerdrew]

Speed Comics (1939) #6

[princesitangelita]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ after swearing up and down that you can’t make a sale, jim lets you answer his phone to give it a try. his elaborate plan to prove himself right goes south as soon as the man on the other line buys a heaping amount of paper in exchange for your phone number..

warnings: flirty banter, teasing, fluff, mild humor, slight tension (?), jim being a little jealous (a lot, actually), close proximity

a/n: first jim prompt :,) feel free to send in req’s!

wc: 1.1k

“..but why? why do you think it’s impossible for me to sell paper?” jim was leaning over the counter of the receptionist desk, both of your faces not far from one another’s. “because you answer the phone like this!” he taunted your high pitched ‘customer service’ voice, your cheeks heating as you giggled quietly. “i do not sound like that!” jim smiled when you accidentally snorted, your eyes widening in embarrassment. phyllis looked over at you two, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “there’s a reason you didn’t get the sales position, ditzy.”

you gasped, slapping his arm playfully. “that’s a low blow, halpert!” shaking your head, you opened up the spreadsheet michael had forwarded to you, “and by the way, my insane typing skills got me this position. i get to sit and look pretty all day..” jim nodded, eyes flittering down to the soft curve of your lips. “yeah, that you do.” his voice dropped down a few octaves, the sound paired up with his words made butterflies flutter in your tummy. the girls were so going to be hearing about this later.

you met his eyes for a brief moment, both of you clearing your throats awkwardly at the sudden energy shift. “seriously though, how hard could it be?” just as you asked him, his phone began ringing. “wanna find out?” you were up on your feet, basically buzzing with excitement as you followed jim over to his desk. the last thing jim expected you to do was bend over the hardwood his phone was rested on, his distressed glare finding the cameraman. dwight was eyeing you with pinched eyebrows, wondering what the hell you two were up to now.

for his own sake, jim didn’t dare glance down at your backside in that tight pencil skirt of yours, instead he took his seat, pushing himself all the way in under his desk before motioning for you to answer the damned thing. flashing an innocent smile at dwight, he rolled his eyes as you put the receiver to your ear. “jim halpert speaking!” jim closed his eyes, holding in a laugh as he muted the call. “you have to say your name, not mine..” the realization dawned on you, a little ‘oh, that’s right!’ leaving your lips before he unmuted you.

chirping your name into the phone, the man on the other side of the line sounded confused as he carried on. “hello, is this dunder mifflin? the paper company.” you hummed, drawing a few stares from oscar and stanley. “hi there, my name is jonathan and i was tasked with choosing the best paper for my office, and i came across this number. if you don’t mind, i just had a few questions.” you nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “of course, i’d be happy to provide you with answers!” jim leaned in, listening closely to the call.

“why should i choose dunder mifflin as my business’s official paper supplier?” it was a simple question, but it still had you wracking your brain for what you should say. “uhm.. well! here at dunder mifflin, we have the best sales representatives always just one phone call away! we will keep your office and/or work space stocked with only the highest quality of paper, card stock, and many more! all at an amazing price as well, and you didn’t hear this from me.. but if you buy in bulk, you get major steals.” jim was flabbergasted. maybe he should be a receptionist instead. this was your desk now.

“wow! that sounds amazing. you really checked all of my boxes.” he laughed, a hint of flirting evident in his tone. “yeah? well i usually do.” jim looked at the side of your face, his gaze burning hot. “i bet.. look, this might come across as really weird, but gosh your voice is so pretty, it’s a nice change from the usual montone robots answering these phones.” you chuckled, the sound making jim want to snatch the thing out of your hand. dwight noticed this, a smug look taking over his features.

michael had his head poking out of his door, the entire office now listening in on your conversation. “put it on speaker!” erin whispered, everyone agreeing in unison. jim sighed, already not liking where this was going. “oh trust me, i know,” you spoke, “but would you be interested in hearing any of my offers?” you motioned for jim to pull up the package deals sheet on his computer. “please, enlighten me.” you gasped, raising your eyebrows at the man next to you. jim was quick to cover the scowl on his face, a fake smile gracing his lips as he pulled up december’s spreadsheet.

“okayyy! so starting off with the most expensive package, for five hundred dollars a month, you get a weekly delivery on your paper, and this includes an unlimited card stock supply that i can personally guarantee will arrive on time, all the time—”

“i’ll take it.” you blinked, dwight’s grin dropping from his face.

“r-really?! you don’t want to hear about my other packages?” jonathan, the man on the other line let out a disapproving hum. “no, i’ve heard quite enough, i’d love to make a deal with you though.” everyone exchanged looks, you and jim meeting each other’s eyes for the first time during this entire ordeal. “okay, may i please get your information?” you took the phone off of speaker, everyone, including michael, groaning in frustration. “i wanted to hear the deal!” kevin shook his head. angela made a face, turning around in her seat as she resumed watching cat videos on youtube.

you were quiet for a few moments, your eyes widening as jonathan stated his offer. “..so what you’re telling me is; in exchange for purchasing the five hundred dollar package, you want my phone number?” the office went into an uproar, dwight shooting out of his seat. “what is this? a phone sex hotline?!” jim couldn’t stand to listen to another second of this, his index finger reaching out and pressing the ‘end call’ button. you yelped, dropping the phone on his desk. “jim, what the hell?! i totally had that in the bag!” you stood up, a series of shouts sounding around the office.

“transfer him to my phone right now!” meredith shouted, jim wasting no time in giving her the number. “alright, ditzy, you could sell paper.” he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, clearing his throat as he made eye contact with one of the cameras in the corner. you may be lacking a bit in the logical department, but you were an expert when it came to reading jim, and right now? he looked nothing short of jealous. you leaned down next to his ear. “well i’m glad we could settle that, halpert.” jim swallowed thickly, your perfume diminishing all of his senses.

[emsdevs]

A Luke Hughes ask of his girlfriend going into labour and him telling his family he is a dad to a son

a/n: I'm so sorry for the wait nonnie! I hope you still like it! Also everyone please note: I have never been pregnant and therefore do not know the exact process of having a baby. If there are inaccuracies, please ignore them. Thanks and enjoy dad!Luke :)

Labor of Love

You swore you both would be prepared for this, and you definitely were. Luke, on the other, didn’t seem to be taking it as well. When you felt your water break, you called him into the room, telling him the situation.

“Oh god. Oh no. We have so much to do. Oh my god. Okay, you can get changed if you wanna, and I’ll get everything in the car,” he said, frantically moving around the room.

“Luke, baby, I can’t change my pants by myself,” you answered, significantly calmer.

“Right! Right, I knew that,” he plays it off, coming over to help you undress and redress. He moves you to the car where you get situated while he runs around grabbing everything you might need while at the hospital. 

After you arrived and got checked in, Luke called his family, letting them know you had gone into labor and were at the hospital. Next, he called yours. It was very early in the off-season and you went into labor a little bit early, so they would have to fly in from Michigan, unable to be there until two days later at the earliest. After many excited reactions, he was finally done with his round of phone calls, and he walked back into your room in just enough time for you to start laboring. Fourteen hours of blaming and yelling at Luke later, you had delivered your baby and were waiting to find out the gender. You both had agreed since it was your first child, you wanted to wait to find out the gender until the baby was born. Soon, your baby was in your arms and the midwife was telling you that you’d delivered a beautiful baby boy. The tears started flowing the moment he was placed in your arms, and out of the corner of your eye, you could see Luke in the same state beside you. 

“You did so well, baby. Look what you brought us,” he was getting choked up staring at the perfect mix of you and him.

“He’s so perfect,” you move your finger so your son can grab it, “a baby boy.” Soon, the nurses were stealing him away to run all the tests needed, and you instructed Luke to never let your baby boy out of his sight. Eventually, your boys returned, and you all got some much-needed family time. Soon though, you and your son were in desperate need of sleep, so Luke took that time to go inform his family. When he walked through the doors to the waiting room, everyone stood up waiting for whatever news he had for them. 

“She’s doing good, and the baby was born at 3:17. He’s healthy and so perfect,” he sniffled at the end of his sentence, feeling the tears beginning to well up again.

“He?” Luke heard your mom ask.

“Yeah we had a baby boy,” he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He was crying because of the pure joy he felt, his mother wrapping him in her arms while she shed her own tears. Distantly, he could hear Jack and his father having their own celebration before Jim went to call Quinn who couldn’t be there because of playoffs. Gently, Ellen pulled back before asking what name you two had decided on. You both had kept your picks for the names a secret, wanting to keep it to yourselves for as long as possible.

“Samuel Bennett,” he spoke softly.

“Samuel Bennett Hughes,” Ellen breathed, “He sounds perfect, Luke.”

“He is, Mom,” before Luke could start crying again, Jack brought him into a hug, telling him he knew he’d be a good father. His father was the last to hug him, being sure Luke knew how proud he and Ellen were. He let them be the ones to inform Quinn and your family, wanting to get back to his family.

When he got to the room, he took a moment to really take in you and Samuel. You were the love of his life, and he couldn’t wait to see where this road takes you both. He couldn’t wait to spend more time with Samuel and get to know the little boy that you two, mainly you, brought into this world. He was so incredibly thankful to be able to have this moment. You two have been through a lot since getting together in high school. You even stuck with him after he got drafted, choosing to transfer to a school in New Jersey to be closer to him. He’s always had your unwavering support, and he hopes you know he’ll always have your back as well. Right now though, he’s sure both of you will be the co-founders of Samuel’s fan club. No matter what happened or where life leads the two of you, he knows he has you and Samuel, and that’s enough for him.

taglist: @heartsforjh @alex-wotton @devilinpradaheels @juxmi @macklin-celebrini-71 @puckmedude

join the taglist

[alargehunkofdebris]

Why There’ll Never Be Another Good Omens 2 Experience

The strangest thing happened after a few days post my watching of S2. I got a wave of real, bittersweet sadness.

Not due to the obvious – I was dealing with that too, but with more excitement than anything – but because I realized something, as a writer and consumer of media. I realized that it’s unlikely I’ll ever get a media experience close to what I experienced at the end of Good Omens 2. Because really, its setup was absolutely unparalleled – in general, and for myself personally.

I am currently writing my third romance, and what I’ve learned primarily about the genre, the way for it to really work, is that there needs to be something keeping the couple apart initially. The more things keeping the couple apart, the stronger the romance hits. The more the couple clashes with each other, the better it is. Societal norms, class issues, initial dislike, literal danger—all these aspects are what make a romance a story. It’s that conflict that creates the compelling narrative. No romance was ever popular because things worked out well from the beginning – it’s that “look at what we were, and look at us now” aspect that gives readers/watchers that satisfaction. It’s the “I can’t believe this happened” effect. The “I would never have foreseen this” effect. The “they’ll never be together” effect. It’s why forbidden romances are so incredibly popular.

Another aspect that makes a romance story really work well is the amount of time it takes for the romance to develop. A couple that gets together after a few days? Eh, it’s tricky. You better make it really dramatic somehow. A great example is Titanic – class differences, betrothal, and a huge amount of danger threatens this couple, so them being in love after only a few days works. But what really sells this one is because we can see how this romance has survived beyond those few days. We see it 80 years in the future, still there, in the memory of Rose. That is why it hits so hard. Romances that span over long periods of time (especially ones that are bittersweet/tragic) hit so much more than ones spanning a short period.

But wait! There’s more!

You can up this effect by not only having the romance take time in story…but having it take time in real life, for the viewer/reader.

This is why romances in TV shows that take years to finally work out are so compelling. It’s that “Pam and Jim” effect, that will-they-won’t-they deal. We are waiting right along with them, and we’re feeling that same relief when all those things keeping them apart finally fall away. This is harder to pull off, because there’s never that guarantee that the story will make it that far. TV shows get cancelled, creators lose interest or die, etc. So it’s not just “Will They, Won’t They,” it’s “Will They, Won’t They, Can They Even Try?”

This is also compounded by that fear that it won’t happen in-story after all, and while in romances you’re pretty positive that things work out (they kinda have to, for it to be labeled a “romance”) in other media, there’s always that possibility. Look at Community – there’s a forbidden/conflict-ridden romance that didn’t end up working out, even though it was “Will They, Won’t They”d for six entire seasons. You also then have shows and ships where fans are almost sure it won’t happen, but still hold out hope. (See: Supernatural, Sherlock, etc.)

Now. Now look at Good Omens. Look at that absolutely unparalleled, unbelievable set up. It’s unbelievable because it takes almost every single thing that makes a romance compelling, and not only uses all of them, but dials them up to 11.

Why are they at odds? Why are they forbidden from being together?

Because they are literally the most opposing forces you can imagine in Western Canon. They are the Angel Guarding The Gate and The Serpent of Eden. The literal only way you could’ve made this a bigger deal would’ve been to make it God and Satan, and even that would’ve not hit as hard, because it’d be like two CEOs getting together – there’s no fear of a higher power adding that delicious conflict. And to add to all this, in real life, the couple is portrayed as two men, which adds that second meta level of conflict.

And what fear/danger is keeping this couple apart?

Not just familial disappointment—but disappointment from God and Heaven and Hell. Not just moral guilt, but the guilt of potentially dooming the entire Earth. And finally, on top of that, the very real danger of being killed. Not only that, but making it as though you never even existed.

And in real life, they face all those roadblocks that queer couples in media have been battling for years and years, but I'll talk about that more in a second.

Okay, then Time. How long have they been kept apart?

For…all of it.

All of the time that ever existed.

They, quite literally, could not have been kept apart longer.

And this leads into those final two points, the ones that actually really sell it. Because I can sit down right now and write a story about an angel and a demon falling for each other at the beginning of time against all odds…but what I can’t do is to have already written it thirty-three years ago.

That’s how long this story has existed. Thirty. Three. Years.

I’m not even counting how this is using characters that have existed as opposing forces for thousands of years. I’m not even saying that, even though that’s also a part of it. But besides that, this story, this exact story started thirty-three years ago, and is still being continued by the author to this day.

Do you know how uncommon that is?

Yes, we have canon that has lasted for many, many years. Hundreds. We get new versions of beloved older stories ever year. But it’s so very rare that they are by the same creator. We get new Sherlock Holmes content, but it is not written by Arthur Conan Doyle. This, on the other hand, is actual canon content, written by the author of the original. That is unbelievably rare.

That means we’ve got a fandom where some people have grown up with these characters. People who read it at twenty are fifty-three. People who read it at fifty are eighty-three. Kids who saw their parents reading the book now have children of their own. It is a cult classic that has been in the hearts of so many people for generations. Me, personally, I fell in love with it ten years ago, at age twenty, at the very beginning of my own writing journey. This story means so much to people, because it’s stood that test of time.

And yet, this story was never explicitly romantic. So many saw it that way, but it was never something confirmed. Because this was a book from the 90s, at a time where this kind of romance just wasn’t in popular media if it wasn’t played as a joke. It was, back then, the same kind of “forbidden” as a romance between angel and demon. So people imagined, but they never expected anything more. And they’ve continued not expecting more, because even in the 2019 first season, there was never any true confirmation of anything, and people accepted it. You have a 33-year-old story here – it’s possible that this major change/confirmation could happen, but all things considered, it was unlikely. You would never blame the creator for not making major developments to a story they wrote with their late friend a lifetime ago. And no one in production was saying a word to confirm or deny, but we’ve seen all this before. It was a Will-They-Won’t-They…Probably-Not situation.

And then you have the end of S2.

And that's where that bittersweet sadness comes in for me, personally. Not at a huge level, not to the point where I'd have it any other way, but it's there regardless. Because I realized that this was a unique situation that could never be replicated, for me, and likely for many, especially readers of the book pre-show. In all likelihood, I would never again experience a romantic payoff like this one. Because it was the most forbidden of forbidden romances, the couple of which have been kept apart by the worst of all dangers and highest level of guilt for the longest amount of time literally possible, written over a real-life span of time where this kind of romance went from “completely taboo even in real life” to “finally acceptable in popular media,” written by the same creator, and not confirmed as canon until the story reached the age of Jesus Christ himself.

And the real kicker is, even after everything these two literally star-crossed lovers have gone through…they’re still being kept apart. They’ve still not taken down those final, seemingly insurmountable barriers between them. It wasn’t a “here you go 😊” move to make long-time fans happy – it’s being used as a perfect, painful plot point. After 33 years, we’re still having to wait longer.

Chef's kiss. Couldn’t have been a better set up if it was mathematically calculated. And yet, the best part is that it happened organically.

It just works.

[capquinn]

can we get a blurb about quinn telling his parents he’s gonna be a dad, pretty pretty please???? i feel like he’d be nervous to tell them but also bursting at the seams wanting them to know. it’s probably hard for him being so far away for most of the year, that he wants them to be involved as much as they can, but he’d also want to respect his partner’s wishes if she wanted to wait to tell people until she was further along in case something happened

The decision about when to tell Quinn’s family about the baby over Thanksgiving weekend had been made weeks ago, but actually doing it was proving to be a whole different story.

For Quinn, the excitement of telling them had been almost overwhelming at first, a buzz of energy thrumming beneath his skin every time he thought about the moment. He could picture their reactions so clearly: Ellen’s face lighting up with joy and then tears, Jim’s steady pride breaking into a wide grin. He’d played it over in his mind again and again, letting the thought carry him through the quiet moments of doubt.

But now, as the reality of actually saying the words settled in, the nerves crept in too. It wasn’t that he doubted their reaction — they would be thrilled, he knew that. They adored him, a love larger than life itself, their pride woven into every word they spoke about him. A love so steadfast it felt unshakable. And over the years, that same love had effortlessly extended to you, not just welcoming you into their family but embracing you as if you’d always been a part of it.

However, the weight of the moment, of what it symbolised, suddenly felt heavier. This wasn’t just a fleeting piece of good news to share. It was life-changing, not just for him and you, but for them as well. They were about to become grandparents, stepping into a new chapter of their lives, and he couldn’t shake the pressure of wanting the moment to be perfect.

The confidence he’d carried on the flight home for the weekend was slipping, giving way to a swirl of emotions he couldn’t quite name. He’d been eager, almost impatient, to share the news, to feel the weight of it lifted and replaced with their joy, their pride, their unwavering support. He wanted them to share in the excitement, to feel connected to this life-changing moment despite the physical miles that often separate them. He needed them to know that their place in this new chapter, as grandparents, was as important to him as the one he was stepping into.

But now, standing on the brink of saying it aloud, a sudden wave of nerves hit him, sharp and unexpected. The enormity of it all — the love, the hope, the vulnerability wrapped in the words — made his throat tighten.

It wasn’t just an announcement. It was a shift, one that would ripple out and reshape everything. Parenthood, after all, was still something the two of you were learning to grasp.

The first evening back home unfolded in the warm glow of Ellen’s kitchen, the scent of roast chicken and fresh-baked bread filling the air. The house alive with warmth — the crackle of the fireplace, the low hum of laughter, and the familiar cadence of Jim’s voice as he spun a tale about the neighbour’s runaway tractor. He gestured animatedly, earning chuckles and interjections from Ellen, who corrected him at every exaggerated turn. It’s a familiar, comforting scene — the kind of moment Quinn usually soaks in without a second thought.

But tonight, his mind is a thousand miles away.

You can feel the tension humming beneath his relaxed posture, the subtle way his fingers tighten around yours every few minutes, like he’s trying to ground himself. His gaze keeps darting to his parents — catching the glint of Ellen’s wedding band as she leans forward in her chair, the crinkle of Jim’s eyes as he laughs at his own joke.

He wants to tell them. You can see it in the way his lips press together, his chest rising and falling with a slow, deliberate breath as though he’s rehearsing the words in his head.

We’re having a baby.

It’s right there, sitting on the tip of his tongue, waiting for the perfect moment. 

Quinn shifts in his seat, his free hand sliding up to rub the back of his neck as he leans forward slightly. You can feel the faint tremor in his grip as he laces his fingers tighter with yours, like he’s steadying himself for something big.

Jim’s voice carries on in the background, the rich cadence of his story weaving effortlessly with Ellen’s laughter, but Quinn’s focus isn’t there anymore. His gaze is fixed on the table, the firelight catching in his eyes as he takes a deep, deliberate breath.

You recognise the signs immediately. The way his shoulders draw back just slightly, the faint movement of his lips like he’s practicing the words in his head. It’s coming — you can feel it in the subtle shift of his energy, the way his knee bounces once under the table before he stills it with a hand.

He glances at you, and in the flicker of his gaze, you see everything — the love, the nerves, the overwhelming weight of what he wants to say. 

Your expression softens, and you give his hand a gentle squeeze, a quiet I’m here. You’ve got this.

Quinn swallows, his throat working against the knot of emotion rising there. 

“So, uh,” he starts, his voice low and hesitant, barely cutting through the warmth of the room.

Ellen turns toward him, her smile easy and expectant, and Jim sets his drink down, his brows lifting in quiet curiosity.

It’s right there. The words are sitting at the edge of his lips, just waiting to fall out. We’re having a baby.

But they don’t.

Quinn falters, his mouth opening slightly before he closes it again, his jaw tightening as he drops his gaze to his lap. His hand squeezes yours, and the quiet pressure feels like an apology.

Ellen’s eyes flit between the two of you, a flicker of concern crossing her face. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” she asks gently, her voice laced with the kind of maternal intuition that always catches him off guard.

He looks up at her, his lips curving into a faint, practiced smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Nothing,” he says softly, shaking his head. “Just... it’s good to be home. That’s all.”

You watch as Ellen’s concern melts into warmth, her smile returning as she reaches over to squeeze his arm affectionately. 

“Well, we’re glad you’re here, too,” she says simply, her love for him evident in every word.

Quinn nods, his gaze falling back to his lap, and you can see the frustration flickering just beneath the surface. He’s upset with himself — not because he doesn’t want to tell them, but because he does. Desperately. He just… can’t.

You lean into him slightly, your shoulder brushing his, and when he looks at you, you offer the smallest smile. He exhales slowly, his grip on your hand relaxing just a bit, and when Jim launches into another story, the tension eases from Quinn’s shoulders — if only for a moment.

The second opportunity comes the next morning, when the day feels impossibly slow and golden, like it’s giving Quinn every chance in the world to speak up. The two of you lie in bed longer than usual, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains as you talk quietly, voices still hushed with sleep.

“We can’t leave without telling them,” Quinn says suddenly, his voice quiet but resolute, like the realisation is finally settling in. His gaze is fixed somewhere on the ceiling, his brow furrowed in thought, the weight of his words pulling his shoulders just a little tighter. “I just… I want to do it right, you know?”

“I get it,” you reply, turning your head to look at him. His profile is soft in the morning light, his jaw flexing slightly as he wrestles with the thought. “You want it to feel special.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his lips twitching into a faint, almost sheepish smile. “Exactly. And every time I think about actually saying it, I freeze. Like, what if I screw it up and it’s not as perfect as I want it to be?”

You can’t help the way your heart squeezes a little at the vulnerability in his voice, the honesty of it catching you off guard in the best way. Sliding a little closer, you prop yourself up on one elbow, your hand brushing lightly against his arm. The movement pulls his attention, and for a moment, his eyes flicker to yours before settling back on the ceiling.

“Quinn,” you say softly, your voice laced with affection, “they’re going to love it. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be you.”

He doesn’t respond right away, the words settling over him like a quiet balm. His jaw flexes again as he chews on your reassurance, his hand absently dropping to your abdomen. It’s such a natural gesture, like he doesn’t even realise he’s done it, his palm curving gently over the barely-there swell. 

The corners of his lips twitch, like he’s debating whether to believe you. Then he lets out a soft laugh, low and self-deprecating, his free hand coming up to rake through his already-messy hair.

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is easy,” you insist, squeezing his arm lightly, your gaze steady on him. “It’s you, Quinn. They’re going to be over the moon no matter how or when you tell them.”

His eyes flick to yours then, something unspoken passing between you — a quiet thank you, maybe, or just an acknowledgment that he’s holding onto your words a little tighter than he lets on. His thumb brushes a slow, thoughtful circle against your skin, and you can feel the tension in his shoulders ease, if only just a little.

“Don’t worry, you’ll tell them today,” you murmur. There’s a quiet encouragement in your voice, a steady belief that seems to seep right into him. Your fingers trace lazy circles over the back of his hand where it rests on your belly.

Quinn nods, his lips twitching into a small, tentative smile. It’s not the full-blown confidence he probably wishes he had, but it’s something — a flicker of determination breaking through the haze of nerves.

“Yeah,” he says softly, the single word carrying more resolve than hesitation. “I will.”

He sounds ready. You believe him. So does he.

And so the morning unfolds beautifully. Ellen, with her usual warmth and efficiency, packs coffee and snacks into a little canvas bag, insisting with a bright smile that everyone take advantage of the clear weather to walk the trails. There’s a lightness to her tone, a sense of simple joy that seems to catch on everyone as they prepare to head out.

Out in the forest, the world feels peaceful, quiet but alive. The rustle of leaves underfoot mingles with the occasional chirp of a bird or the soft swish of wind through the trees. The trail is dappled with sunlight, patches of golden light breaking through the canopy above. Quinn walks beside you, his shoulder bumping yours every now and then as the two of you amble along.

He’s quiet at first, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, but there’s a softness to him that doesn’t feel like nervousness — it feels like he’s soaking it all in. The crisp air, the sound of his parents chatting a few paces ahead, the steady rhythm of your steps beside him.

“You good?” you ask softly, nudging him with your elbow. Your breath fogs slightly in the cool air, and he glances over at you, his lips quirking into a small smile.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice low but steady. And for a while, it feels like he means it.

At the overlook at the end of the trail that feels perfect, too. The sunlight glints off the trees, the breeze is cool and gentle, and his parents are close, their laughter light as Ellen unpacks the thermos of coffee. You can feel the moment hanging there, just waiting for Quinn to take it.

He squeezes your hand gently, his thumb brushing slow circles over your knuckles. You glance up at him, catching the way his jaw tightens just slightly, his lips pressing together like he’s rehearsing the words in his head.

“Now’s a good time,” you say softly, tilting your head toward him. Your voice is quiet, meant just for him, but there’s an encouragement in it that you hope will nudge him past whatever’s holding him back.

Quinn nods, his shoulders straightening a little as he draws in a breath. 

His gaze flicks over to his parents, who are standing a few feet away, cups of steaming coffee in their hands as they admire the view. They’re relaxed, happy. Completely unsuspecting.

For a moment, it feels like he’s going to do it. He takes a step forward, clearing his throat softly, and both Ellen and Jim glance over at him. 

“What is it, Quinn?” Ellen asks, her voice warm, a smile playing on her lips.

You watch as Quinn’s hand flexes at his side, his fingers twitching like he’s trying to grab hold of the words before they slip away. 

“I—” he starts, but then his gaze falters, dropping to the ground for a fraction of a second. He hesitates, just long enough for the nerves to creep in.

Jim’s brow lifts slightly, his smile curious. “Everything okay?”

Quinn freezes, his jaw working as if he’s wrestling with the weight of the moment. You see the exact second he decides against it — the subtle shift in his stance, the way his eyes dart back to the view like he’s searching for an escape.

“Yeah,” he says finally, his voice low but steady. “Yeah, everything’s good.”

There’s a beat of quiet, and then Ellen laughs lightly, her attention shifting back to her cup. 

“Good,” she says, clearly not noticing the undercurrent of tension. “Come have some coffee before it gets cold.”

Jim watches Quinn for a second longer, his gaze thoughtful, but he doesn’t press. He just claps a hand on Quinn’s shoulder as he passes, squeezing lightly. 

Quinn exhales slowly, his shoulders sagging just slightly as he turns back to you. His lips twitch into a faint, sheepish smile, and he shrugs like he’s trying to laugh it off. But you know him too well to buy it.

You don’t say anything, just lean into his side a little, the warmth of him grounding in a way words wouldn’t be.

“Just… not yet,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost like he’s saying it to himself more than to you.

You nod, giving his hand another squeeze, a quiet reassurance passing between you. 

“It’s okay,” you murmur, your voice just as soft. “You’ll know when the time’s right.”

He breathes out slowly, his gaze flickering back to the view for a moment before settling on his parents again. And even though the moment passes, and the group begins to move again, their laughter breaking through the quiet hum of the forest, you can feel it. The way his hand tightens slightly around yours. The way his shoulders stay just a little too tense as you walk.

He’s still building up to it, you know that. But he’s getting closer.

Back at the house, the moment arises again, this time while everyone is lounging in the living room after lunch. Quinn sits beside you on the couch, one hand cradling his coffee mug, the other resting on your thigh. His parents are across from you, their chairs pulled close to the fire, and the warmth of the room feels almost tangible, a gentle weight of familiarity and love.

He’s relaxed now, leaning back into the cushions, his gaze sweeping over the room like he’s soaking it all in. His hand tightens slightly on your leg, and you glance at him, catching the way his eyes flicker with something you recognise — nerves, anticipation, resolve.

Ellen catches his eye and smiles, tilting her head slightly. “What’s on your mind, Quinn? You’ve been out of sorts today.”

Your heart skips, and you sit up just slightly, willing him forward with the quiet encouragement in your expression. 

This is it. He’s going to say it. You can feel it.

He clears his throat, straightening a little. “Just... uh,” he starts, his voice steady but hesitant. He glances at you, then back at his mom, and his lips twitch into a small, uncertain smile. “Just thinking how I’m gonna miss this when we leave,” he finishes, his tone light but not entirely convincing.

Your shoulders relax, a mix of understanding and disappointment flooding you as you press your knee gently against his. Quinn glances at you, his jaw tightening as he picks up on your unspoken it’s okay. Next time.

Ellen smiles warmly, tilting her head in that soft, motherly way. “It’s not long until Christmas,” she reminds him, though her voice carries a faint wistfulness, like she’s reminding herself too.

Quinn nods. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Not long.”

The following morning unfolds in the quiet, unhurried way that comes after a weekend of family time, everyone savouring these last hours together. The kitchen is warm and familiar, filled with the smell of coffee and the soft sounds of Ellen moving around, flipping pancakes on the griddle. Jim leans against the counter by the sink, drying dishes, while you’re perched on a stool at the island, hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. Quinn stands a little apart, leaned back against the counter with a piece of toast in hand, his damp hair sticking up in every direction, evidence of a quick shower.

The conversation drifts easily — something about Jim’s plans for the yard that afternoon, Ellen’s pancake technique, a joke about Luke’s questionable cooking skills. But Quinn is quiet, and not in the usual, thoughtful way. His eyes flick between his parents, to you, and back again, a pattern he’s been repeating all weekend. You know he’s been carrying the weight of the news, the excitement and nerves tangling together, keeping him from saying it despite countless opportunities.

And then, just like that, it happens.

“We have something to tell you,” he says, his voice steady but quiet enough that it cuts through the easy flow of conversation. 

The kitchen stills, all eyes turning toward him. Ellen pauses mid-flip, the spatula poised over the griddle, while Jim straightens from his spot near the sink, his brow furrowing slightly.

“What is it?” Ellen asks, her voice soft but expectant, her gaze darting between you both.

Quinn shifts slightly, his toast forgotten on the counter behind him. His hand brushes over the back of his neck, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s going to back out again, if the nerves will win one last time. 

But then he glances at you, his expression searching, and you nod gently, giving him the encouragement he’s been looking for.

“We’re having a baby,” he says, the words tumbling out in a rush but steady, sure. His voice catches just slightly at the end, but his eyes stay locked on his parents, watching as the meaning sinks in.

For a moment, the room is silent. Ellen stares at him, her eyes wide and unblinking, her hand coming up to her mouth. Jim’s towel stills mid-fold in his hands, his gaze flicking to you as if for confirmation. And then Ellen gasps — a sound so full of joy and disbelief it feels like it fills the entire room.

“Oh my God,” Ellen whispers, her voice trembling as her hand covers her mouth. Her eyes dart between Quinn and you, wide and shimmering with emotion. “A baby? You’re having a baby?” She looks at you then, as if she needs your confirmation to believe it’s true.

Quinn nods, and the soft, tentative smile that had been tugging at his lips finally breaks free. It spreads wide, unstoppable, lighting up his entire face. 

“Yeah,” he says, his voice low and steady but filled with something raw and achingly real. “We’re having a baby.”

His words hang in the air, and for a moment, the world feels suspended, as if the house itself is holding its breath. Then Ellen moves, her emotions bursting forth as she crosses the kitchen in a blur, her arms outstretched. She pulls Quinn into a fierce hug, her laugh bubbling up through a flood of tears.

“Oh, Quinn,” she says, her voice breaking with joy. “A baby. My baby’s having a baby.” Her hands cradle his face for a moment before she hugs him again, tighter this time, as if she can pour every ounce of love she feels into him.

He laughs softly, wrapping his arms around her as his chin rests against the top of her head. “Thanks, Mom,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

When Ellen pulls back, her focus shifts immediately to you. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says, rounding the island with tears streaming down her face. “A baby. Oh, I’m so happy for you.” She pulls you into a tight hug, her warmth and joy washing over you in waves. “You’re going to be incredible parents. Both of you.”

Jim moves forward more slowly, his hand landing firmly on Quinn’s shoulder as a wide smile spreads across his face. 

“This is incredible news, son,” he says, his voice steady but with an unmistakable quiver of emotion. “Congratulations. To both of you.”

Quinn exhales then, properly exhales, like the weight of all his nerves and hesitations has finally lifted. 

For the rest of the morning, the kitchen hums with joy. Ellen flits between the stove and you, her emotions spilling over every time she catches Quinn’s eye. She can’t seem to stop smiling, crying, or imagining the tiny new addition to the family. 

“How have you been feeling?” she asks, her eyes searching yours with a mother’s concern. “If you need anything, you’ll let me know, right?”

Her hand briefly brushes over your arm, the gesture warm and reassuring, and you nod, assuring her that you’ve been well, that Quinn has been attentive, that everything is as it should be. It’s impossible not to smile at the way her joy bubbles over, filling every corner of the kitchen like sunlight.

Quinn, for his part, has shed every trace of hesitation. He talks easily now, the nerves replaced by an earnest kind of excitement. He shares the small details — the due date, how you found out, how ready the two of you feel — and every word seems to deepen the pride in Jim’s expression. He stands quietly nearby, his presence grounding and constant, his smile unwavering.

When it’s finally time to leave, the hugs linger. Ellen pulls Quinn close, whispering something through her tears before letting him go to hold you just as tightly. Jim’s hand finds Quinn’s shoulder again, squeezing it once in a way that says everything without words. There’s an unspoken promise in their goodbyes, a warmth that stays even as the front door closes behind you.

Quinn doesn’t say much as he helps you into the car, his hand brushing over your back as he opens the door. But as he settles into the driver’s seat, he glances back at the house one last time, his expression soft, a little dazed. When he turns to you, his smile is quiet, content, the kind that makes your heart ache in the best way. 

As you drive away, the crisp Michigan air shifting through the windows, his hand finds yours. His thumb brushes over your knuckles in that familiar, absent minded way, and you realise that for the first time all weekend, there’s nothing holding him back. The weight is gone, replaced by something steadier — joy, contentment, and the simple knowledge that everything is exactly as it should be.

[puppetwoman17]

Just thinking about the JL time traveling to WW2 in Fawcett City. Cap isn’t there because he didn’t want to be. No way is he going through seeing his more jaded younger self! And he’s so not telling the JL. Also for this prompt I’m obviously using the assumption that the League knows Cap is Billy.

Anyhow, the JL meet a lot of older heroes during their time travel expedition, including Billy.

Keep in mind, secret identities? Don’t really matter rn. There’s a war going on.

Anyhow, the JL are excited to meet their friend. A version of their friend that they’ve never met before. In fact, Barry is so excited that he makes the mistake of going up to him for a hug.

Billy gives Barry this look of disgust and punches him in the face because there’s no way this weirdo is getting close to him. Valid response, tbh. He does go silent when he sees the S on Clark’s chest, and accidentally calls him by his dad’s name. Which, Clark had no idea Billy knew his parents. Billy also recognizes the lasso of truth, so he’s a little more willing to talk to Diana than anyone else. He sees the lantern ring and rolls his eyes because the Guardians are always so nosy, don’t they get that he can do this on his own? He sees Barry use his powers and he says it reminds him of this new hero in Central City, the Flash. Barry internally freaks out because he didn’t really put together that Billy got to know the older generation of heroes that the League used as inspiration way before he got to know them.

Cue the JL following Billy around in the most conspicuous way possible and Billy just…going along with it begrudgingly. He’s snarky, he’s distrusting, and he stays as close as he can to people like Jim Barr(Bulletman) and Alan Armstrong(Spy Smasher).

They watch him hang out with the rest of the squadron and swap stories like they’re old men at a bar. It’s been so long since they’ve had to interact with Billy when he was less trusting. They almost forgot how much he changed.

When the JL get back to their time and see their Billy again, the change is so much more jarring. He gives them one of his winning smiles and sheepishly apologizes for whatever his younger self said.

But the JL are just trying to deal with the realization that Billy is more experienced than they give him credit for. How he’s been part of the hero world longer than any of them. Though, they probably should’ve realized that after they caught him arm wrestling Jay Garrick.

Also Clark didn’t know he looked so much like his dad until now and it kind of makes him self conscious for a while because does his friend really just see his Dad when he looks at him?

[wandascosmic]

why can't you see? (8)

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

part eight of 'you belong with me' series

summary: basically a wanda series inspired by jim and pam from the office

word count: 3418

tags: best friends to lovers, actual idiots to lovers, they're so cute my little babies, 3/4 of this is just reader being a little shit but she's so real like she's me when im doing work, wanda's so here for it though they're so on the same wavelength it's adorable

taglist: @reginassweetheart @rroyale-109 @marvel-posts

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9

Tony suddenly feels the sensation of his jacket being pulled over his head. “Oh!” he grunts, as his eyesight his overshadowed by darkness. 

“What has two thumbs and likes to bone your mom?” Hayward asks in a gross joking tone, pulling the jacket back down. 

Tony turns around slowly, his eyes widening in surprise and happiness once he sees who’s surprised him. “Tyler!” Tony says excitedly before hugging the man. 

“What’s up Tony, how’s it going?” Hayward says cockily. Hayward smirks as he turns to you at your desk. “What’s up, L/N, still queer?” he asks. 

You give him a tight-lipped smile before going back to work, and Wanda watches you with an amused grin. Your absolute lack of ability to hide when you’re annoyed always made her laugh. 

“Man, we have loads of catching up to do,” Tony tells Hayward as he starts to lead him towards his office while the two begin to engage in chatter. 

You roll your eyes aggressively. 

God, you hated Tyler Hayward with a burning passion. 

Standing up from your desk, you grab your jacket ready to head out for lunch. But of course, you need to stop by your favourite receptionist’s desk for the fifth time today. Or maybe sixth. 

“What has two thumbs and hates Tyler Hayward?” you ask her as you walk over. 

 Wanda smiles knowingly. “Me,” you mouth to her, pointing your index finger at yourself.  

“Well,” Wanda says. “I’m always here if you need saving.” 

“Please,” you respond, giving her a knowing look. “Hey, do you want anything from the sandwich shop down the street?” 

“Oh! Yeah, could you get me that ham and cheese one you got me last time?” 

You smile. “Sure,” you say, before heading out the door. 

***

“I’m really excited to meet your mom,” you tell Wanda as you take a bite of your turkey sub. 

“You are?” Wanda asks, unwrapping the sandwich you got her. 

“Mhm,” you nod. “I’ve got many questions to ask her.” 

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Wanda asks curiously with a tilt of her head. 

You grin before assuming a quizzical expression. “Like this.” You shift in your seat slightly to get more into character. “As a child, did Wanda show any traits that would hint towards her future career as a receptionist?” 

Wanda laughs. “I’m not sure she’ll know how to answer that question.”  

***

The door opens quietly, and you smile as you see Iryna Maximoff start to slowly make her way towards her daughter. Wanda doesn’t notice, continuing to type on her computer. 

Suddenly, Wanda feels a tap on her shoulder. 

And turning her head, Wanda’s eyes light up once she sees who’s in front of her. Wanda’s told you how much she loves her mother, many, many times. 

Iryna smiles at her daughter. “Hi,” she says, before Wanda jumps out of her chair to hug her tight. 

“Mama!” Wanda exclaims, squeezing tighter. 

You smile at the heartwarming exchange. 

Deciding to go introduce yourself, you stand up from your chair, ready to go meet the woman who brought the most wonderful human being you’v ever known into this world. 

You faintly hear Wanda begin to tell her mother all the things she’s missed the past few weeks, but your nerves have caught up to you slightly and you desperately want to make a good impression. You brush the dust off your pants slightly, and start to walk over.  

Should you say hi? 

How are you?

Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N? 

Hi Ms. Maximoff, I’ve been in love with your daughter ever since she started working here so could you please like me? 

Nope. Definitely not. 

You groan, deciding to just get it over with. 

Taking a deep breath, you stand at Wanda’s desk with a smile, drumming your fingers on the wood as you prepare for the two Maximoffs to turn around.  

But of course, the universe had other plans. 

You turn your head to the sound of the door creaking open, and your heart drops as you see Vision enter. With fucking flowers. And gel in his hair. And the most obnoxious country club outfit you’ve ever seen. It made your work clothes seem like a potato sack in comparison, and you realize that you can’t meet Wanda’s mother looking like this compared to her fiance. Plus, Vision already hated you and had his suspicions. 

Regaining your composure, you eliminate any suspicion he may have had of you standing at Wanda’s desk by taking a candy from the communal dish at the front and immediately turn around to walk back to your own stupid desk. 

Sitting back down, you frown slightly, but ultimately decide that you should probably get back to the papers that were giving you a headache of boredom. 

All you wanted was to say hi. 

After a couple seconds, you overhear Iryna greet Vision. 

“Oh, there he is,” she says happily. Hey handsome, how are you?” You turn to see her greet him with a hug. 

“I’m pretty good. How are you?” Vision responds, very obviously sucking up as you’ve seen his true personality on a daily basis. “You look great, Iryna.” 

“Thank you very much,” Iryna responds with a smile. “So, are we ready for dinner?” 

“Oh,” You hear Wanda express, a bit forlorn. “Well, you know, actually I kind of need to stall a bit, since Tony’s gonna have a small meeting at the end of the day,” she says guiltily. “But, it’s okay since I’m very used to killing time.” Wanda chuckles a bit. 

“Oh, no worries,” Iryna tells her. “We’ll just wait a bit.” 

“For sure,” Vision agrees. “I’ll go wait in the parking lot.” Turning to Iryna, he asks, “and, uh, what kind of tunes do you want for the ride? Country? Oldies?”

“Oh, anything is fine,” Iryna replies kindly. 

“All right, well, see you soon!” Vision says before leaving the office. 

And the second the door closes, you finally hear something that makes you smile.

“So which one is Y/N?” Iryna asks her daughter cheekily. 

“Mama!” Wanda replies with a blush. 

***

It’s the next day, and you’ve never been as bored as you feel now. 

Actually, you’ve been on a boredom streak lately. 

But today is the absolute worst of all. 

After Vision had left, you had finally gotten the opportunity to properly greet Iryna before she left to join Vision in the parking lot, and Wanda had really seemed to enjoy the entire exchange. 

But now, it’s the next day, and you want to absolutely murder the papers in front of you. Depsite your hatred for Tyler Hayward, him showing up yesterday made your day somewhat different from the rest. 

Groaning loudly, you plop your forehead onto your desk and dread the day before you. 

Wanda, of course, is entertained by your shenanigans and snickers as she watches you. 

It was official.

You had died of boredom. 

(An occurence that happens once every sixth months. Seven if Tony’s being extra insane.) 

And your guys’ deal was that it was Wanda’s job to revive you. 

***

“You see Sam’s coffee mug?” Wanda asks as you stand in front of her at her desk.

“Mhm,” you say, turning to look at the mug along with her. 

Wanda leans slightly closer. “Sometimes when he’s not here, I try to throw stuff in it,” she whispers to you. 

“No way,” you laugh. 

Wanda nods at you with a sly grin, handing you a yellow piece of paper for you to crumple up into a ball. 

“We should play paper basketball one day with his mug,” you tell her as you crumple the paper absentmindedly. 

“No way,” Wanda shakes her head. “I’ve seen you play basketball.” 

“What if I get you chicken paprikash and your favorite candies?” 

“Deal.” Wanda says instantly. “Now throw, I can’t wait for Sam to drink it accidentally.” 

‘Wow, I can’t believe I’ve never seen this side of you Maximoff. You might be a bigger prankster than I am.” 

“You’re teasing me. I can tell,” Wanda narrows her eyes at you. “Throw the paper!” 

You laugh before throwing it as instructed. “Damn it,” you say when it misses. 

“I’m the only one who can keep up with your pranks, L/N. Plus, it’s fun doing them with you,” Wanda answers as she rummages through her drawers for something else for you to throw, unknowing of the fact that she just made your heart skip a beat. “Here, try paper clips.” 

You take a silver clip from the small box Wanda has just placed on the ledge of her desk, about to throw, before her voice stops you. 

“Oh wait,” she reaches to her side and grabs another paper, reading it over slightly. “This message, for Sam.” 

“Smart, Maximoff,” you say, causing Wanda to smile at you. 

Crumpling the paper, you throw it as best you can, but end up missing once more as it lands in Sam’s chair instead. 

“You know, I might actually beat you whenever we play that coffee mug basketball game.” 

***

“Hey, Steve,” you say, walking up to the man with a few sheets of paper in your hand. “Um, these new expense reports, do we really have to go back to last quarter?” 

“Yeah, It’s a terrible system, I know,” Steve sympathises with you. 

Suddenly, a board buried underneath the contents of Steve’s desk catches your eye. “Hey, what does 2005 season mean?” you ask. 

“Uh, that’s–” 

“No way,” you say as you pull the board out entirely. “Is this a scoreboard?” You ask, noticing the assortment of numbers written into various white boxes. 

“Yes, it is,” Steve acknowledges. 

“That’s so cool,” you say. “What’s it for?” 

Steve sighs. “Sometimes, when Tony’s out, Bucky and I play this paper football game he got me started on.”

“Or when we’re bored,” Bucky adds from his desk next to Steve. 

Inspecting the board a bit further, you see the hundreds of scores written on it. “Wait, this goes back two years! Oh my god,” you exclaim excitedly. 

“We’re bored a lot,” Bucky says, already folding a piece of paper into a small triangle. 

Steve turns to you. “Wanna try?” 

You nod with a grin. 

*** “Oh!” you exclaim as you flick the paper triangle to Bucky’s desk, making another shot. “Yes!” You high-five Steve who stands next to you. 

“Fun, right?” he says. 

“For sure, I really love the uh, paper triangle flicking and hitting things game.” You imitate the motion with your fingers.” It’s awesome.” 

“We call it Hateball,” Bucky tells you with a whisper. 

“Why?” you ask curiously. 

“Because of how much Nat hates it,” Steve says, nodding over to Nat who’s deep in her work on her computer. 

You look over at Nat, and you notice the hint of a smile on her face. 

“I don’t hate it,” she mouthes at you through the screen separating the desks once Bucky and Steve look away. 

You smile before turning back to Bucky and Steve. “Hey, do you guys have any other games?” 

Bucky inches forward towards you slightly. “Ask Bruce to teach you Shield ball, trust me.” 

***

“So, that’s what this sound is all day,” you exclaim with a smile as the ball hits the ceiling before passing between you and Bruce. 

“Fun, isn’t it?” Bruce replies back. 

“It’s awesome!” 

*** After exhausting the two new games you had discovered today as much as possible, you decided it was best to let your co-workers get back to work. 

Unfortunately, you had only blown off your work for about two hours, and needed to find a way to blow off the other five hours of the day. 

So, you created your own games. 

Something you liked to call ‘the Office Olympics.’ and you were surprisingly proud of what you could come up with. 

Wanda, like the incredible, wonderful, and kind person she was, had agreed to help you in creating your new project, and had ended up making beautiful medals out of paperclips and old yogurt lids. They looked surprisingly professional, which I guess shuoldn’t surprise you since it was Wanda.

You, and the majority of the office staff stand in the kitchen, with Wanda putting up a poster that says, ‘Games of the 1st Shield Industry Olympiad.’ 

Humming the Olympic Anthem, you hold a candle in your hand which you had found stashed away in your desk, a lighter in the other. “This scented candle,” you start with a smile. “Which I found at the bottom of my desk drawer,” you turn on the lighter and light the candle. “Represents the eternal….” you shake your head. “Burning of competition, or something.” 

“It smells like cookies,” Bruce says. 

“Yes, it does,” you look at him seriously. “Yes, it does, my friend.” 

“Okay, so, we’ll be competing for gold, silver, and bronze yogurt lids,” you say, holding up the medals by their paper clip chain. “Made specially by Wanda.” 

Wanda grins at you. 

“Let the games begin!” You lead the office staff out the kitchen with your candle above your head, all of you humming the Olympic anthem together. 

***

“Alright, so, here, what you have is the national sport of Icelandic paper companies,” you explain as you point to the paper boxes that have yellow rubber bands holding the lid and the vessel together at the top and bottom of their horizontal sides. “And, I’m blanking on the name, could you help me out, Wanda?” you turn to the brunette who stands next to you. 

“Y/N, they refer to it, as,” Wanda pauses. “Flonkerton.” 

You hum. 

“In English, ‘Box of Paper Snowshoe Racing’.” 

“Fair enough,” you say. “But, I like Flonkerton.” 

Wanda smiles. 

“So,” you continue. “Who will be challenging Bruce in Flonkerton?” 

“I’ll do it,” Jennifer says. 

“Yes, Jennifer! Cousins taking on cousins,” you exclaim. 

Both Jennifer and Bruce walk over to the boxes, Wanda helping Bruce with his footing while you help Jennifer. 

“So, if you could put your foot right through here,” you lift up the yellow band for her to slip her foot through. “Right through the flonk.” 

Once both Bruce and Jennifer were ready, the rest of the staff helped you put up the finish line at the end of the room, which was made of transparent tape. 

“Alright, are you guys ready?” you ask, receiving a nod from both parties. 

“Ready, set, go!” 

And the office erupts in cheers as Bruce and Jennifer try to make it to the other side of the room with the boxes on their feet. 

“Whoo! Go, go, go!” you exclaim, clapping your hands together. 

“Dig deep!” Steve yells. “Dig deep!” 

Soon, the two near the finish line, and you prepare to catch one of them in case they fall. 

“Oh, they’re neck and neck!” Bucky exclaims. 

“Come on!” Nat says. 

“Oh!” the staff exclaims all at once, as the two finally reach the finish line, Jennifer winning by the slightest edge. 

“Jennifer by a nose!” you announce. “Gold medal, in Flurnenton.” 

“Flonkerton,” Wanda corrects. 

“Thank you, delegate from Iceland,” you say teasingly. 

***

“Nat, are you sure you don’t want to join in on any games?” Wanda asks Nat as she stands next to her by the water dispenser. 

“I’m good with watching, thanks,” Nat chuckles, taking the last sip of her water. 

“Come on, don’t you have any games you enjoy?” 

“Well, there is one,” Nat says, throwing her cup out. 

“No way, what is it?” Wanda asks excitedly. 

“I call it Wanda-pong.” 

Wanda stares confused. “What?” she asks with a small laugh.

“Mhm,” Nat nods. “I count how many times Y/N gets up from her desk and goes to reception to talk to you.” 

Wanda pulls her head back in slight shock. “We’re friends.” 

“If you say so,” Nat says with a wink before heading off. 

***

“Peter! Gold medal,” you announce as the intern had correctly guessed who would be next to come up in the elevator. “Let’s move to our next destination, everyone.” 

“Oh, Y/N!” Wanda runs up to you and joins you at your side with a large box in her arms. 

“What’s up, Maximoff?” you ask with a laugh. 

“I made something for our closing ceremonies,” she says with a huge grin. 

“What?” you say with a smile, and Wanda opens up the box to show you. “Oh, my god,” you exclaim. “This is incredible!” 

Wanda smiles as she looks up at you. 

“When’d you have time to make it?” 

“Automatic voicemail,” Wanda responds cheekily.   

“”All right, Maximoff, all right,” you say, lifting up your hand and giving her a well-deserved high five. 

***

It was the absolute worst time for Tony to walk in with Sam. 

You were in the middle of the coffee race, seeing who could get a full mug of coffee from the coffee machine to Steve’s desk in the least amount of time. 

However, the two walked in halfway through the race, catching you all in your tracks. 

Now, you were back at your desk, filling out the stupid expense reports that had caused your death of boredom earlier this morning. But, in five minutes time you had gotten them done, and you had also closed two sales before the day was over. 

Truthfully, it was about as productive as any other day. If not, more so. 

“All done,” you tell Steve as you hand him the reports. 

“Great,” Steve responds before you walk off. 

You contemplate sitting down at your desk, and doing whatever you could find to do to entertain yourself, however, staring at the medal hung over your desk lamp, you think you have a better idea. 

“Hey,” you say to Wanda as you greet her at her desk. 

“I have 59 voicemails,” she responds with the phone to her shoulder. 

“Great,” you respond. “Actually, can you ignore those and do something for me instead?” 

Wanda stares at you for a moment before her face breaks out into a grin. “Sure.” She places the phone back into its holder. 

“Pefect,” you respond back. “So, today, 5 o’clock, closing ceremonies,” you tell her with a small smile. 

“Wait, really?” You nod. “Notify the athletes.” 

“Will do,” Wanda says as she gets up from her seat. 

***

Knocking on Tony’s door, you slowly enter his office, seeing him hunched over. 

“Tony?” 

“Y/N! Y/N, what’s going on?” he responds.

“Nothing, I just wanted to congratulate you on your condo.” 

Tony furrows his brows. “How did you find out about that?” 

Of course, the answer was Sam. And he had notified you all to be wary of Tony since the purchase was less than savory. 

“Sam,” you nod your head in the direction of his desk. 

“Of course,” Tony mutters. “But, thanks anyways.” 

“No problem. Hey, would you mind coming out here for a sec? I’ve got something for you.” 

“Really?” Tony asks, standing up from his chair. 

Slowly leading him out, you smile at the arranged closing ceremony Wanda had put together, a wonderful stage of first, second, and third place, along with a few surprises she had only told you about.  

“What’s this?” Tony asks. 

“These are the closing ceremonies,” you tell him. “Step up.” You lead him to the top stage, and pull out one of Wanda’s medals from your pocket. “Congratulations to Tony, because he closed on his condo. So, gold medal.” You place the item around his neck. 

“I’m not sure what to say,” Tony says. “But, thank you all, for this, I’m very grateful.” 

You smile. 

“And for, Sam Wilson,” you continue as Bruce leads Sam to the second highest stage. “The silver medal.” You place the award around his neck.

“And finally, for Jennifer Walters, the bronze medal.” You lead Jennifer to the final stage, as she had won most of the games of the Office Olympics. 

You nod at Wanda, and she pushes the play button on the speaker, the Star-Spangled banner beginning to play. 

All of you placing your hands on your heart, you begin to grin. 

“Why are you playing the National Anthem?” Tony whispers to you. 

“Um, because your condo’s in America.” you respond. 

“Fair enough,” Tony says. 

“Ready?” Wanda asks you, and you nod. 

Wanda starts to pull the string linked to the pieces of paper she had folded earlier, giving you a grin. 

“What is that?” Tony asks. 

“Those are the doves,” you answer. 

Wanda glances at you with a small smile, and you give her one in return. 

She did, in fact revive you from your boredom.

part 9

[imagines4thefandoms]

In Love with the Tats

(This has been in my drafts for a long time)

Warning: Lots of smut

summary: Henry comes home still wearing fake tattoos from his latest movie.

Henry Cavill is a kind and loving man. He is the real-life Superman. And he’s British so he’s automatically very polite and nice to everyone. He looks like an actual bear with all those muscles but he’s really just a giant teddy bear who requires cuddles to function. He usually plays good guys in the movies cause it's who he is. 

Which is why the world lost its mind when Mission Impossible: Fallout came out. Henry “king of nerds” Cavill was a bad guy. Seeing him betray, hurt, and kill was out of pocket and extremely hot. And you were not expecting it. When you started dating you told him not to give you any spoilers from his movies. You wanted to get the whole experience when you saw it at the premiere. Sometimes it backfired like in Dawn of Justice when Superman died, and you were caught off guard but he brought you tissues cause he knew you needed them. And when you got married that promise was in your vows. Maybe cause you told him you would divorce him if he spoiled anything for you. 

So when you watched your husband who can’t hurt a fly try and destroy the world and kill millions, you got turned on. Seeing a darker side of him was very attractive. And every girl can tell you how villains are a lot more attractive than heroes. So when you got home from the premiere you jumped his bones. And for the next 24 hours, you two rarely left the bed for longer than 5 minutes. The phrase fucking like rabbits could have legally changed to fucking like Cavill’s. 

After that when he would look over scripts his agent sent him, you would help him and pick out the role you liked (spoiler if he played the bad guy you liked it). He auditioned for the roles you liked cause he could never say no to you and you would never steer him wrong. And he got the role. You did your civic duty to the world and Henry Cavill was going to be a bad guy again on the silver screen. 

And now while he’s filming you spend all day with your favorite Cavill, Kal. You had gotten a text from your husband saying filming was running late and he wouldn’t be home in time for dinner which didn’t bother you at all. You made a simple pasta dinner and left it on the table cause you didn’t want to eat without him. Usually, when he runs late he gets home around 10 or 11 instead of 6 and you had a big lunch with friends so you didn’t mind waiting. While you waited for him to come home you and Kal sat on the couch watching The Office (American edition). It was the episode with Asian Jim so you were dying laughing over Dwight's reaction. Suddenly the front door opened and you felt a kiss on the top of your head, cause you were too busy to look over at who walked in the house. Though you knew it was Henry. 

“I could have been a robber,” he lightly scorned seeing as the front door was unlocked.

“Well then the robber could finish the episode with me and then take our things,” you teased still not looking at him. 

“You are a pain, love,” he said taking off his jacket and locking the front door. 

Kal, your nice warm cuddle buddy, jumped off the couch and ran to Henry excited that he was home. You turned to scorn your husband for causing your furnace to leave when you took in his appearance. 

“What is that,” you asked him noticing how he was covered in tattoos. Like COVERED. His neck, both arms and his knuckles had ink. 

“I didn’t want to keep the makeup artist there any longer and I told them to leave them til tomorrow,” he explained rubbing behind Kal’s ear. 

When he was met with silence he looked over at you and noticed you were staring. He immediately thought you were turned off. 

“I’ll try to get us to wrap earlier tomorrow so they have time to take it off,” he says grabbing Kal’s leash to take him on a walk. 

“You don’t have to,” you said staring at the tattoo on his neck and biting your lip. 

It suddenly clicked in his mind that you were very much turned on. He smirked at your reaction and bent over to whisper in your ear. 

“I'm going to walk Kal and when I get back I'll show you the rest of them.”

“There’s more,” you gasped finally bringing yourself to look him in the eye. 

He simply replied with a nod and walked back out of the house to walk the dog. Henry might have been gone for only 10 minutes but seeing how you were suddenly very hot and bothered it felt like hours. You were too antsy to move from your spot on the couch and could not for the life of you pay attention to the antics of Jim and Dwight. When Henry finally came back, he sent Kal to lie down in his bed in the living room and threw you over his shoulders to bring you to the bedroom. 

“You are not helping my situation,” you cried out as he threw you on the bed. 

“I'm not in a helping mood,” he replied taking off his shirt. 

His chest was covered in tattoos and scars. There was no bare centimeter of skin. You got on your knees and slowly ran your hand over the art. When you reached his navel he turned around and showed you the back. There was a cross with a rose intertwined with it and blood dripping from the stem. You turned him back around and placed one hand over the skill on his chest and your other hand covered the flames on his neck and brought him down to you for a very firm kiss. His hands went to your waist and he laid you down hovering over you. As soon as you got your legs out from under you they went around his waist to bring him closer to you. The kiss got very heated and sloppy. His lips left yours and traveled to your neck. Your hands alternated between gripping his hair and scratching his back. 

He pulled himself from you and removed the shirt you were wearing leaving your chest bare. He kissed your nose then your lips then your neck and kept traveling til he was right above your shorts. You whined as he slowly took off your shorts and peppered your hips with kisses. When he finally took your shorts off he kissed the inside of your ankle and slowly went up til his nose brushed against your very wet cunt. 

“Hen, please,” you cried as he just kept kissing your inner thigh and letting his mouth hover so close but so far from when you needed him. 

“Where do you need me,” he asked bringing his face back up to yours and staring into your eyes. “Here,” he asked placing a kiss on your neck. You shook your head no. “here,” he asked kissing between your breasts. 

“No,” you cried wiggling beneath him. 

His hands gripped your hips causing your movements to cease and his lips brushed over your right nipple. “Here?” You again shook your head no. and he did the same to your left nipple. He asked the same question and got the same answer. He continued to kiss down your body, your stomach, hips, knee, and ankle but still wouldn’t touch you where you needed him. 

“If you don’t hurry up or I’m going to do it myself,” you cried out. 

“No, you’re not. You are mine, your kisses are mine. Your tears are mine. Your whimpers, moans, and pleas are mine. And for damn sure your orgasms are mine. No one, no toy, not even these beautiful fingers can bring you the pleasure I can,” he said kissing the tip of all ten of your fingers. “They can’t fill you or stretch you the way I can. You will forever be unsatisfied, empty, and cold without my fingers, mouth, and cock to fill you and keep you warm.”

His mouth finally hovered over where you needed him. He could see and smell how turned on you were but still hesitated to do anything about it. “Say it. Say no one can fuck you like I can. Tell me you are mine,” he said staring at you. 

You wiggled and cried and gasped at the feeling of his hot breath on your cunt. You tried to close your leg to get a little morsel of relief but his hands gripped your thighs and forced them open. 

“Say it,” he said again this time deliberately blowing directly on your clit. 

“Fuck. I’m yours only yours. No one can ever fuck me as good as you do,” you cried trying to close your legs again but not moving them an inch. “Please Hen I can’t take it.”

“Good girl. I’ve got you just relax,” he said before attaching his mouth to your aching cunt and eating you out like a starved man. 

His tongue traveled from your clit to your vagina and back again. He started sucking on your clit but his eyes never left your face. He watched as your eyes closed and face contorted with pleasure. Your hands gripped his hair and you were either trying to pull him away or pushing him in more you didn’t know but a groan left his throat causing you to fall over the edge and cum in his mouth. 

He lapped up the juices and sat back and just admired the mess between your legs. He used his fingers to spread you open so he could get a closer look. He spits in your very exposed cunt and then goes back to eating you like you were a whole meal at a 5-star restaurant. You cried and screamed his name when his teeth gently grazed over your clit. Before you could even come down from your first orgasm the second one hit like a ton of bricks. Your hips lifted off the bed and you screamed his name but he still wasn’t done. When your legs stopped shaking he finally removed his mouth and bruised your lips with a kiss. You let out a moan when you tasted yourself on his lips. 

You opened your eyes and noticed his were filled with a lustful/predatory look. He gently pressed kisses on your nose and lips causing you to laugh. His hand traveled from your neck to your left breast then down til his fingers stopped between your legs. 

“I'm not done with you princess, that was just my mouth. We still have my fingers,” he said pressing two into you without warning causing you to gasp. “And my cock,” he said placing a small kiss on your neck. 

“Fuck Hen,” you cried turning your head away from him. 

“On no princess, I said those are mine. You are going to look in my eyes as you come undone on just my fingers,” he said turning your head towards him.

You couldn’t say a word so you just nodded as your response. He thrust his finger in and out of you so slowly that it was almost painful. “Faster please,” you whined running your hands through his hair and bringing his lips against you. 

“Too impatient, you that much of a whore you can’t wait to drench my finger,” he asked picking up his speed. 

“Oh yes,” you said both at the new pace and his words.

“Yes, what,” he asked pulling his fingers out of you and bringing them to his lips. “Fuck you taste exquisite.”

You whined at the now empty feeling seeing as you were so close to cumming again. “Yes, I'm your whore please.”

Satisfied with your answer he plunged his fingers into your agains and was fucking you with such a brutal pace that tears fell from your eyes. “That’s my good girl. You're doing so well for me. You're taking my fingers so well, should we add another,” he asked rubbing your clit with his fingers. 

“Yes, Daddy please.”

He inserted another finger and stretched you out. Henry stroked your face when he saw you wince in pain. 

“It's okay baby, Your pussy was made for me. I can feel you gripping my fingers. Do you wanna cum,” he asked kissing your ear. 

“Please,” you whined. 

“Let go, Daddy’s got you,” he whispered. “Be my good girl and cum for me.”

The knot in your stomach broke and a wave of ecstasy filled every atom of your body. His finger still fucked you through through your intense orgasm. When you came down he once again removed his fingers. He brought them to your lips and gave them a little tap. 

“Clean my fingers, taste how sweet you taste,” he said looking at you. 

You sucked your cum off his fingers like there was no tomorrow while your eyes never left his. Once you were done he removed his fingers from your mouth and got off the bed to remove his jeans. Out of instinct, you got on your knees in front of him. He unbuckled his pants and pulled both his jeans and boxers down. You were about to take him in your mouth when you noticed more tattoos on his hips and all over his legs. 

Your fingers traced the dragon that covered his entire right leg. From his ankle to his hip. On his left thigh was a wolf’s head with trees around it like it was a forest. Henry let out a growl seeing as were were quite literally leaving him hanging. 

“It's not fun is it,” you retorted letting him think your were punished him for leaving you high and dry earlier. 

“Either you take my cock in your mouth now or I shove it down your throat and fuck you so hard you can’t speak,” he threatened gripping your throat and forcing you to look up. 

You pressed your legs at the thought of him fucking your mouth with such force. He noticed you squirm and he laughed. “You want that, don’t you. You want to wake up tomorrow with a sore throat and remember how I used you for the slut you are.”

You nodded your head and his hands gripped your head and he just stared into your eyes. “Then open up,” he said before he shoved his dick down your throat causing you to gag. Once the shock was over you tried to suck the soul out of him. 

“Fuck,” he moaned as your nails dug into his thighs.

He kept fucking your mouth and made sure that every inch was in. He brought your face to the base of his cock then pulled out completely to give you a breath. His thump traced your lips and pushed the drool from your chin back into your mouth. “My beautiful wife.” Your mouth fell open waiting for him to shove his cock back down your throat. Henry let out a laugh before giving you what you wanted. The pace he was going was brutal but beautiful at the same time. 

You watched as his face scrunched in pleasure at the feeling of your mouth. The sound of his balls slapping your chin filled your ears making your legs squeeze together. Henry’s hands cradled your face as he forced his cock as far down your throat as he could reach and he just held you there. When your tongue ran over the vein on the underside of him he quickly pulled himself out. 

“If I’m going to cum anywhere,” he said pulling you to him, “it’s going to be in this pussy.”

Henry’s hand stroked you clit one more time before he gently pushed you down on the bed. You tried to scoot up to the pillows but, Henry grabbed your ankles and dragged you back down til your ass was almost off the bed. He brushed your hair out of your face and places a kiss on your nose before plunging deep into your aching cunt. 

“Fuck,” you yelled dragging your nails down his back. 

Henry pounded into you at an alarming pace causing you to slowly move up the bed. “I'm gonna,” you yelled before his lips attacked yours. The orgasm ripped through your body. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably and your bones felt like mush. But Henry didn’t stop. His pace was speeding up like he was chasing his own pleasure. 

“I can’t,” you cried moving your head side to side. 

“Yes, you can baby. Just one more,” he said kissing your shoulder. “I'm almost there, you’re doing such a good job.”

Your head is still shaking from the overstimulation. His hands went from your waist to your painfully throbbing clit. “Please,” you cried when he roughly pinched it. He ignored your cries and just focused on your clit. You tried moving away but his other hand moved to your throat. “I know baby. But I know you have one more. Please I need you,” he pleaded as his strokes slowed down. You slowly nodded your head and he forcefully kissed you again. He removed his hand from your throat and went back to your thigh. Henry gave you a little squeeze before moving your legs over his shoulders. 

At this angle, you could swear you felt more of him. He slammed into you over and over again. “Cum with me baby,” he said bending you practically if half so he could kiss you. His movements stopped and his head fell to your shoulder as he came. “Fuck,” he yelled once he emptied his entire load. He stayed in you for a minute to catch his breath. 

“I love you,” he said whipping the sweat off your brow. 

You winced when he slowly removed himself. “I love you too,” you said when he walked into the bathroom to get a washcloth. When he ran the warm cloth over your abused cunt you flenched in pain. “Fuck, did I hurt you,” he asked kissing your knee. You shook your head and pulled him up to you. “Just very sore. Can you just hold me,” you asked.

He rolled off you and laid on his back with his arm extended waiting for you to move at your own pace. While your head rested on his chest, he rubbed small circles on your lower back. 

“So you want me to keep these tomorrow too,” he asked mumbling into your hair. You let out a laugh and slapped his stomach. “God no, I can’t survive another night like this tomorrow,” you said moving to look up at him. “But definitely next week,” you said with a smile.