#oh my god quinn.. its been so long

[nardaviel]

oc wants meme

I'm just gonna do this for Sora and Sam, my main guys. Listen, it's a bad pain day and talking about my OCs cheers me up

Sora Yumura

His faceclaim is Miura Haruma, when he had longer hair. The first pic is The Sora pic. My Photoshop skills aren't that good but that's as good as they're going to get, and I think it gets the idea of what he looks like across. But the second one is an extremely Sora facial expression.

Description: Tall, a little too skinny, but well-dressed and strikingly attractive, with wavy green hair and observant grey eyes in a clever face. A lot of poise, a lot of charisma, witty but respectful. All of that is a mask and he is really hoping you're taken in by his facade of functionality, but it is convincing as hell. Even dazzling, at times, if he needs to really turn on the bright lights. So almost everyone falls for it, in the end. His (rich) parents died when he was young and he was raised by his (incredibly rich) aunt and uncle, who were emotionally abusive, although he would say that that's an exaggeration. His little cousin is like a brother to him, and he protected him from his aunt and uncle as best he could, but that didn't stop him from getting the fuck out of Japan entirely as soon as he could leave for university. (There were other reasons and other traumas behind that too, but this isn't Sora's entire life story lol.)

What do they say they want? (i.e., what are the desires they put out into the world and have no trouble admitting)

Sora wants the top job. He won't be crass enough to actually say that to you, but his ambition is clear enough if you're in a position to look at his education and employment choices. He wants what's best for his loved ones, of course, which will always include his little cousin Ibushi, and depending on time period may also include Sam and his children, if he has any in the AU in question. He is likely to downplay how serious he is about that, however, and he won't mention his small circle of close friends, whose safety and well-being he is just as intense about. (But if their well-being is actually at issue, you may find yourself surprised by his complete 180 from charming and diplomatic to grim and uncompromising and ruthless.)

In all honesty, Sora isn't very open with most people about how he feels or what he wants. Aside from really surface-level stuff ("I'd kill for a coffee"), this is about all you're going to get.

What do they think they want? (i.e., what are the desires they keep hidden and only admit to their closest loved ones)

He wants to keep his loved ones safe and happy, and to them he'll admit that he'll do a whole lot to make that happen. He wants to believe his parents would be proud of him. He wants to be able to use his power to make a positive difference, but also to advance his personal interests, and he doesn't feel particularly bad about the second one. He wants to crush all his competition and see the looks on their pathetic faces when they realize he's beaten them, but he wants no one else to even notice anything has happened, because it's more satisfying that way. He wants to raise his children differently from how he was raised.

What do they actually want? (i.e., what is something they subconsciously need, but either do not realize or cannot admit)

Sora wants to feel safe. He hasn't felt safe since his parents died and he went to live with his aunt and uncle, which means in most AUs he doesn't remember ever feeling that way, and in the others it's a faint, hazy memory and he kind of suspects he made it up. He doesn't think in those terms, though, which is a shame because it's behind a lot of his decision-making. As time passes, he will start to experience transient moments of safety with Sam, and as he gets older, the omnipresent sense of danger will decrease some. That's about the best he's gonna get, but he'll still be grateful for it, without being able to name what it is.

Sam Quinn

He doesn't have a picture. :C I'm sorry, Sam. He is also @vashtijoy's OC as much as he is mine but I am writing about him nonetheless.

Description: Very tall giant man, with fluffy golden hair and hazel eyes that are quick to brighten with amusement. Otherwise, they're calm and thoughtful. Sensual lips, either a skinny nerd frame or an intimidatingly muscled frame depending on which AU he comes from. He's the middle child of a normal and loving middle-class family in London (unless the AU dictates that he is a medieval peasant instead, but he remains the middle child of a loving family). His curiosity and cleverness have often gotten him into Oxford, but also often gotten him into trouble. I wish you could be less interested in explosions, Sam.

What do they say they want? (i.e., what are the desires they put out into the world and have no trouble admitting)

Sam wants to learn things! He wants to study, read books, go to interesting places, and build his professional life around learning and discovery. He often ends up as an academic, and sometimes a teacher. He is often grabbed by a new interest and gets sucked into it for a bit, and he will definitely tell you everything he hopes to find out about it. He wants to be able to help his siblings take care of his parents when they get old. He wants to do good and help the less fortunate, especially once he marries into Soras $100mil+ family (which is only a family once he marries into it; it was just Sora until that point, alone with his parents' inheritance).

What do they think they want? (i.e., what are the desires they keep hidden and only admit to their closest loved ones)

He wants a family. He's always the reason they have kids. Sora loves their children and is a devoted father once they have them, but he only agrees to adopt (or find a surrogate, or use whatever magical gay-parent baby method is available) because having children means so much to Sam.

He also wants to be open about their relationship, when being closeted is often important to Sora's career, and so Sora has to make a decision about what to prioritize. (The answer is Sam. He chooses Sam. But it's genuinely difficult for him.) Sam doesn't ever ask him to make that choice, but when Sora pushes, he will admit that being closeted makes him sad.

You might be getting the impression that Sam is less of a complicated tangle of needs and wants and impulses than Sora. You're right! Sora is *gestures* like he is, and Sam is not like that.

What do they actually want? (i.e., what is something they subconsciously need, but either do not realize or cannot admit)

He wants a community. A family with Sora and children is probably the best way to make this happen, but in other AUs it's been Sora and a few friends they often see and trade with. He just needs a little group of people around him. Like Sora, he isn't really aware of this innermost need. He just thinks he wants kids because he wants to be a dad, which is also true.

Sam just doesnt thrive when he's alone, even if he's in the middle of a city. That's not a community; he needs something tight-knit, where he's respected for who he is as a person and what he can contribute. (In some AUs, that's another answer to this question. He wants someone to see him and think he's not broken just because he's curious and asks questions.) ...Gotta say, though, all of this causes a lot fewer problems than Sora's constant the-alarm-is-broken sense of being in danger does.

Sora does poorly when he's alone as well, although he doesn't need a community in the same way. He needs people who are his, and who he belongs to in turn. The best way to make him feel safe is to make him feel protected. So although their wants are different, they harmonize, inasmuch as Sora's desperate, clawing, wailing sense of danger can harmonize with anything.

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Would you consider writing a story about quinnxreader. She faints in his apartment and he find her when he comes home after training or a game or something. Hes on the phone with his parents and freaks out?

I had to do some research on fainting! I hope this is okay! 🩷

"Yeah, I'm just now getting back home," Quinn answered his mother, trying to unlock his apartment's door without dropping his phone while he fumbled with his keys. "Yeah, me too. It's been a long few weeks. Feels good to be back."

Ellen continued to talk to her eldest son as he pushed his suitcase across the threshold. After such long trips, he was accustomed to seeing you first thing -- a guilty comfort you had spoiled him with -- so when he didn't, Quinn looked around hoping you just hadn't heard him come in. However, when he found you, it wasn't at all how he had expected. 

"Y|N!?" He said breathlessly, upon seeing you laying on your side, on the floor between the kitchen and living room. The suitcase rolled forward on its own, with Quinn having kicked it when he rushed over to you; his mother questioning him about what was going on. 

"I don't know! I just found her laying on the floor!" He brushed the hair from across your face and touched your cheek. You're warm to his touch but his heart was still racing. "Let me, um...I'll call you back. Ye--...yeah, I love you, too. I'll let you know. O-- Okay, love you. Bye."

Quinn's phone tumbled to the floor after ending the call with his mother. You weren't responsive to his touch or to his words, no matter what he tried.

"Honey, wake up! Please, please, wake up!" Gently, he'd give your shoulder a shake, but it didn't do anything either. "Shit! Baby, come on! Come on, come on, come on!"

His hands were trembling as he touched your face again. You were breathing which comforted him only slightly, seeing as he had no idea what was wrong with you. The seconds that ticked by felt like hours, but he never left your side -- almost like he was unable to do anything but wait. Quinn knew he should have called for an ambulance but he was frozen, looking down at you like you were just having a nap. 

Eventually, your eyes would flutter open and Quinn would breathe the heaviest sigh of relief. 

"Oh my god, sweetheart!" He exclaimed, leaning down to touch his forehead to yours. "What happened? Are you alright? Oh, you scared the shit out of me!"

You were happy to see him, but you found yourself confused by his shock and worry, then you were reminded of what had happened prior to the grey-out. 

"Hi, baby," you squeaked out, trying to sit up but he wouldn't let you. Your eyelids felt heavy; everything felt so heavy.

"Shh, shh, take your time. What happened? I came home and I couldn't wake you!"

It was hard, but you had to break eye contact with him for a moment. "It was just a fainting spell, Quinny. I'm alright."

"A fainting spell?" He questioned, deep worry painting his expression once again. "I don't remember you having those before."

Realizing that you were still laid out on the floor, Quinn pulled your body into his arms and cradled you against his chest. His concern was so intense as he held you, a slight rocking motion in his movements. This was a first for him and something he didn't know how to deal with which was why he found himself struggling so much. 

"They just started happening again," you confessed, leaning your head against him as you looked up into his eyes. "I'm okay, I promise."

"Are you sick?" He pressed, his hand holding your face, thumb rubbing your cheek gently. 

"No, baby, I'm okay."

"But you fainted."

"I know," You reassured, knowing you needed to tell him what was going on, but you feared his reaction -- he was already dealing with so much. "My blood sugar is probably just low."

Quinn's brows furrowed, "Low? Why is it low?"

You said nothing as you looked away again, knowing how guilty it made you appear. 

"Baby?" He pleaded, "Talk to me, please? I'm not upset with you. I just want to know what's going on. How long have you been dealing with this?"

"Since just after you left." 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want to make you worry while you were away." When you looked back up at him afterwards, it pained you so much. His concern for you was as strong as his love and it was made evident with how he gazed at you, even during uncomfortable times such as these. 

"I'll always worry about you, sweetheart. It's because I love you!"

"I love you, too, baby. I promise I'm okay. I'm just...tired" You said, breathlessly. 

Upon saying that, Quinn put his arm under your bent legs and carried you to the sofa where he laid you down against the numerous awaiting pillows. He would kneel beside you, holding your hand in both of his. 

"Will you please tell me what's going on?"

You swallowed hard, knowing he wasn't going to let it go until you told him. "I just haven't been eating much."

"Why, baby?"

"It's a stupid reason."

He didn't say anything because he didn't have to. His expression had said enough. 

"I get sad when you're gone and I forget to eat," you finally confessed.

Quinn frowned, lifting your hand to his lips. "Oh, sweetheart. You've got to eat."

"I know..."

"How many times as this happened?" He asked, now putting your palm to his cheek and holding it there. 

"Probably a dozen or so. I can always tell when it's going to happen, so I have a second or two to brace for it." 

He was still looking at you with tense worry in his face, still holding your hand gently. Quinn wouldn't tell you, but his own stomach was twisting out of concern for you. He was so deeply troubled that his absence affected you so much, that he couldn't help feeling guilty about the whole thing. 

"I'm sorry, baby," you sighed, eyes stinging from welling tears. "The whole thing is so stupid."

Quinn shook his head, trying to give you a reassuring smile. "It's not stupid, sweetheart. I'll try and be more proactive in checking in with you when I'm gone, okay? Would you like me to give you little reminders, maybe?"

"You have enough to worry about, though," you said, shaking your head.

"And I worry about you the most. You're everything to me, Y|N."

"Quinny--," you whined, tears breaking through with the guilt. "I didn't mean for this to happen!"

"I know you didn't." With his free hand, Quinn wiped away the teardrops from your skin. "I'm okay so as long as you are. But, you have to promise me that you'll stop skipping meals, okay? I don't want something more serious to happen to you. You're all alone up here, you know?"

You gave him a nod, biting your bottom lip. 

"You promise me you're alright?"

You nod again, this time with a sniffle. "I am."

He pushed forward to ask a kiss from you which you obliged in giving. "Good. Now, you lay here and rest for a minute, okay? I need to call mom back then we'll see what we can do about dinner."

"Okay," you whimpered, realizing that he must have been on the phone when he found you. 

"Everything's okay, babe. I promise. I'm here now."

[puckinghischier]

so hi.. i keep thinking about how hot (and probably hopefully rough) sex would’ve been after last night’s game. you do with that information what you’d like.. i just thought i’d share my thoughts y’know completely and utterly innocent like.

✶ hope you had the best day alli, baby!! ‹𝟹

oh harls, my beautiful, beautiful quinn lover.

of course quinn would be in the need of some…rage activities once he got home. he’d be seething the entire bus ride back to the hotel, thinking about how cocky those assholes on the kings were all night. i mean, the hit on brock? the multiple intentional penalties? the cheap move from clarke?

it was all he could do to contain himself until his penalty, finally having had enough of the nasty plays. and while he was letting himself seethe and stew in his hatred, all he could think about is the fact you’re going to be waiting in his hotel room for him.

when he walks through the door, you’re laying on the king sized bed, having received his text he sent you from the locker room directly after the game.

naked. on the bed. now. absolutely no touching yourself (trust me, i’ll fucking know). don’t move until i say so.

he made you send him a picture for confirmation, wanting to know you’ll be so worked up in anticipation by the time he walks through that door you’ll be putty in his hands.

and while he’s already worked up and agitated from the game, the sight of your hand snaked between your legs, head thrown back onto his pillow, soft pants falling from your lips, has him seeing red.

he drops his bag loudly, seeing as you were so lost in the feeling of your own fingers you didn’t hear the heavy door open and shut.

the sound finally startles you out of your blissful state, arms flying up to cover yourself in a panic, dropping them to rest on your stomach when you realize it’s just quinn. the look on his face, however, does nothing to calm your racing heart.

“thought i told you specifically not to touch yourself,” he grits out, clenching his jaw so tightly he could barely speak.

you still, having been so ready and needy you completely forgot about the rule. sitting there, bare pussy exposed to the chill of the room, was torturous in the best way. you could feel yourself drip onto the freshly made bed, so the initial contact was simply the swipe of a finger to try and prevent any further mess. but the warm contrast of your finger on the cold slick of your cunt felt too good, spurring you to give your clit just a brief touch. just enough to hold you over.

before you knew it, you heard the thud of quinn’s bag and clearing of his throat, not even remembering how you ended up knuckle deep in your own core.

“i-i’m so sorry. it’s just, it was cold, and i was so wet, so i tried to clean myself up a bit, but my finger was so warm, and then i thought just one touch wouldn’t hurt,” you ramble out one long run-on sentence trying to plead your case.

“oh, i see” he starts walking towards you, quickly stripping himself of his t-shirt. “you were so ready for me, that you couldn’t wait on me, is that it?”

your face heats, realizing how pathetic it all is, really.

“well, when you put it like that…” you can’t even make eye contact with him, looking down at his hands instead.

quinn starts to untie the string on his sweatpants, letting them drop and walking right out of them as he comes to a stop at the end of the large bed.

“yeah…that’s what i thought,” he smacks his teeth at you in disapproval, shaking his head back and forth.

you take in the sight of him before you. toned body, pale skin, and my god, the hair. you’ve always been one to love body hair on a man, but seeing his large, exposed thighs, and the perfect dusting of the thick, dark hairs all over them, has your hand itching to find its way back between your slick folds.

he starts to palm himself over his boxers, earning a whimper from you in return. the noise piques his interest, eyebrow raising as he looks down at you.

“oh…you want this?” he reaches down to free his thick cock, sighing at the relief of the cloth restriction.

you don’t know if you should respond or not, scared of the consequences either way. you decide on an eager nod, mouth nearly watering at the sight.

“yeah, figured you did. always so needy, so ready to be whatever i need you be,” he says dismissively. “and lucky for you, i need this tonight, too. or i’d make you sit here and watch me stroke myself until i couldn’t take anymore, spewing everything i have all over you and this bed before making you go to sleep needy and unsatisfied. your punishment for touching yourself before i could get here.”

he must be able to see the panic in your eyes at the possibility, knowing he’s upset but surely he’s not that upset with you.

“but,” he starts, rubbing his thumb over his pink tip, “i think what i have planned is punishment enough. plus, i need you tonight, my sweet girl. need you to be my vice, my cure for all these…feelings i have pent up.”

you feel the physical jolt your core does, causing your body to flinch.

quinn discards his underwear entirely, placing one knee on the plush bed to start making his way to your body. you’re still sprawled out, skin buzzing at the thought of his touching yours.

once he’s hovering above you on all fours, he brings his head down to place a feather light kiss to your lips. when he pulls away, you chase him, pouting at the barely there contact.

“nope. only kiss you’ll get tonight, i’m afraid,” he sits up on his knees, in-between your open legs.

you whine out, always loving the hot, open-mouth kisses you two share while he’s inside of you.

“ehh, no more whining, either. should’ve thought about that before you broke the rules,” he scolds you, bringing his hands down to move your legs up, bending both of your knees so your feet rest flat on the bed.

once your knees are bent, he takes your hands that were resting on your stomach and splay them out on their respective sides.

“now, since you didn’t do like i asked you to so nicely, even though i’m so, so mad tonight, no touching me,” he looks down into your eyes as he says it, making sure you understand his rules.

“so, no kissing, no touching, no whining? what, i’m basically your sex doll tonight?” you sass him, rolling your eyes.

now, you expected a reaction out of him. it was your intent, actually. you expected a small smack to the leg, or a wagging finger with a stern look.

what you didn’t expect was to feel his hand come up and grasp your face, squishing your cheeks together so hard you’re forced to bite them just to allow any sort of give from the pressure.

he jerks your face to look at him, bringing his own so close you can feel his hot, angry breath on your face.

“that’s exactly right. you’re my doll tonight. mine to use as i see fit. however i want. you know why?” he pauses, heaving breaths in and out as he waits, as if you’d actually be able to answer him. “because i’m mad. i’m mad that the stupid kings thought they could beat up on my team tonight and get away with it. i’m mad that brock was taken out during the first period because of a purposeful hit. i’m mad, because the one thing i asked you to do, you couldn’t fucking do it.”

he’s seething at this point, an animalistic kind of anger radiating through his body.

your heart races in both fear and excitement. you hardly ever get to see this side of quinn, and you don’t know exactly what all was said or done on that ice tonight, but you’re sure you’re going to be able to feel the effects of it all for the next few days to come.

he releases your cheeks roughly, standing tall on his knees.

“since you claim you were so wet earlier you just couldn’t resist starting without me, too drunk on your own fingers to know what you were doing, you shouldn’t need any help then, should you?” he asks, reaching down to feel the arousal pooling in your exposed heat.

you want to whine. you want to whine and protest and complain, but before you can even think about breaking another rule of his, your breath is knocked from your lungs.

without any warning whatsoever, quinn slams into you completely, leaving no inch of your canal untouched. on instinct, you start to reach your arms up to grasp onto him, needing to ground yourself to him.

“i wouldn’t, if i was you,” he growls out, pulling out completely before slamming into you again, gripping one of your hips for stability.

dropping them back down to the mattress, you grasp the sheets so tightly you worry you’ll rip them.

your body jolts with each slam of his rigid cock into your hole, completely removing himself each time before snapping his hips so forcefully you swear you can feel it in your throat.

“god, have no clue how fucking angry i’ve been tonight”, he huffs out, not faltering his pace. “all night, watched those smug goons think they could do whatever they wanted, to whoever they wanted. then the refs wouldn’t even let me return the favor when given the chance. it’s bullshit,” he spits with a particularly harsh thrust.

you’re trying your best to lay there, unmoving, occupying your hands with the soft cotton underneath you. a choked sob of pleasure makes its way out when he hits a spot so deep inside of you, you had no clue it existed until this moment.

“but knew i was gonna get to come home to you,” he continues, distracted momentarily by the bounce of your tits with each thrust. “my sweet, sweet girl who always listens to what i say. who’s always so ready to do what i need her to do for me.”

he reaches up to pinch one of your hard nipples. you flinch, but remember to keep your hands down.

“and imagine my surprise, when i walk in the door to see you already making yourself feel good after i told you to wait on me,” he switches his hand to your other nipple, show it some attention. “made me so fucking angry all over again. was so prepared to come in and take care of you, low and slow all night. a treat for you and for me. but you just had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?”

at this point, even if you wanted to speak you couldn’t. you’re quite literally being fucked dumb right now. the effort of keeping your body still isn’t even a challenge anymore, limbs so heavy with pleasure you’re basically his to manipulate and use as he wishes.

you don’t even feel your orgasm approaching. one second you’re listening to his frustrations, the next you’re half deaf and seeing stars.

quinn stutters only slightly, abandoning his touch on your tits to move his hand to your throbbing clit.

“god, this was so fucking easy. this turn you on? me mad at you, not letting you do what you want, just like i didn’t get to do what i wanted?” he talks you through your bliss, watching your body shake and shiver while he continues his deep thrusts.

his fast circles on your clit don’t ease up, even after you’ve come down from your high. you try to wiggle your body away, your sensitivity making you squirm.

quinn’s grip on your hip tightens, halting your movement.

“don’t fucking move,” growls at you, basking at how easy it is for him to glide in and out of you, his dick covered in your release. “you’re gonna give me another one, i don’t care how sensitive you are. know you can do it. my own little slut.”

the name surprises you, quinn never really has been one for using stuff like that in the bedroom. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t cause the feelings of another release to start swirling again, though.

his resolve starts to deteriorate, but he’s determined to milk one more from you before he enjoys his own release.

“c’mon. it’s the least you can do f’me, really,” he grunts, somehow rubbing even faster circles on your swollen bundle of nerves. “after no one at the game would let me retaliate, and after i had to sit in the fucking box for two minutes for just returning a little bit of what they dished out all night, giving me all you’ve got isn’t a lot to ask, is it?”

you try to shake your head, but the increased pace of his forceful thrusts causes your head to bob all over the place.

he can feel your walls starting to flutter again already, knowing it won’t take much to send you over the edge.

keeping his hand in between your legs, applying both pressure and friction to your clit now, he bends his body over to attach his mouth to your tit, showing the the area attention once again. he swirls his tongue around your sensitive nub.

the feeling alone is delectable, causing you to writhe in pleasure. but the second you feel his teeth encase the delicate bud, biting down, you explode yet again.

you don’t think you’ve ever come so hard in your life. you cry out, so loud and so pornographic quinn worries someone will complain, but loving every second of the sound.

you’re convulsing underneath him, tears leaking from your closed eyes at the intensity of the pleasure radiating throughout your body.

“fuck, that’s it. swear your pussy’s trying to trap me in there, doesn’t want me to leave,” quinn groans, feeling like his dick is literally being suctioned into your body.

after a few more sloppy thrusts, his balls tighten and he coats your walls with his release. he moans out, mixing with your perfect whimpers and whines as the shocks of his own orgasm cause you to twitch.

after he’s sure your body has sucked him dry, quinn pulls out of you, pushing your knees down so he can roll over to the side of you, throwing his own tired body in the mattress.

you both lay beside one another, panting and letting your bodies catch back up to you. he reaches over to grab your hand, every ounce of anger having left his body through his orgasm.

he’s back to being his usual, soft self, as he rolls over to place a kiss to your temple.

you’ve come to a little bit, turning your head to look over at his smiling face.

“maybe…maybe i should start a pact with these teams you play each week to make you mad and rile you up during games more often,” you softly speak, voice slightly hoarse from your orgasmic screaming. “if this is what i get in return, think it’d be worth the price,” you smirk at quinn.

he lets out a quiet chuckle at your words, bringing a hand to brush some hair out of your face, finally placing a real kiss to your lips.

when he pulls back you open your eyes to admire him, but are met with a serious, stern expression.

“don’t push it.”

[denwritesandcries]

Fall(ing for You) – S.C

Pairing: sam carpenter x soft goth!reader

Summary: Sam is certain that Tara's new quiet friend may turn out to be Ghostface, unfortunately – or not –, that friend is you.

or, it takes the help of tara and a dog for sam to finally come to her senses.

Word count: 6,0k.

Content: scream 6 but without the killing, r's 23, cursing, wingman tara ft. yr dog, jokes abt r being ghostface, fluff, pining, sam falling first AND harder, silly movie references.

Note: hey guys, It's been a while since I've written for scream but I rewatched it recently and finally got some inspiration again! I describe the reader a little more in this but it won't really affect anything if you choose to ignore it.

English is not my first language.

Tara made a new friend.

Sam still isn't sure exactly, but the only plausible explanation for the way Tara has been acting lately is that her sister met someone interesting enough to keep her attention so that she gave everyone a break from her tantrums and reckless behavior since their new start outside of Woodsboro.

Now, that could be a good thing, it had been months since the kids started college and they were all doing relatively well. Mindy had Anika, Chad had Ethan and also there was Quinn, even though she wasn't very close to anyone. Tara should have someone too.

The problem is that Sam has no idea who this person is. Tara just won't tell her.

You see, Sam understands that she might have been a little too protective of her sister and that this made Tara's behavior become defensive towards her. Her new therapist – after she got rid of that quack – is helping her work through that, okay? But curiosity and worry were eating away at her insides. The curfews, the tasers and pepper sprays, and especially the ID checks were all important to keep them safe, dammit! Mindy and Chad had no problem with it, and it was only after all the appropriate measures were in place that Sam could breathe and let these new people be a part of their lives. Not knowing this so-called friend, let alone who they were, was driving her to the brink of a breakdown.

She was trying to give her some space, probing with subtle questions here and there and the most she got was an eye roll and ‘It’s just a sophomore I met at the film club, haven't you said I should try to be part of something that didn’t involve frat parties?’

Well, at least it wasn’t a boyfriend, given the lack of dreamy sighs, giggles into the phone and late-night escapades. That was good. They already had enough problems to deal with and a new relationship so quickly was the same as asking for a ghostface to go for them again and Sam hadn’t been back in Tara’s life long enough to know how to deal with this part of being a big sister yet.

Sam had understood that she wouldn’t meet this mysterious person for a while, at least until her sister’s tantrum had passed, and between two shitty jobs and trying to keep a structured life being responsible for a bunch of teenagers in the big city, she couldn’t find it in herself to insist on the subject any further and get the risk of causing a fight. She thought it would be forgotten.

Now just imagine Sam's surprise when she came home one night after a long, exhausting shift, expecting to eat the leftover pizza she had hidden in the fridge and fall into a deep sleep, only to be knocked over by an noisy and strange dog with a piece of pizza in its mouth as soon as she opened the apartment door. Her pizza.

“Koda!” Someone called. Someone unfamiliar. It wasn’t just the dog, there was a stranger in her house.

Sam’s hand instinctively moves to reach for the taser hidden in her jacket when a pair of black-clad legs show up in her vision. Does Ghostface work with dogs now? She wonders in confusion for a moment, and has given up on the voice changer?

The only thing stopping her from tasing this potential killer in front of her is the pure bewilderment and Tara’s laughter filling the room.

“Oh my god,” the figure bends down, picking up the dog who turns out to be a very excited puppy, the pizza falling from its mouth and onto her shirt, getting it all over her, “I’m so sorry.”

It’s a girl, a face she’s never seen before, looking completely mortified.

“Hey, Sam,” Tara stops beside her, a barely hidden tone of satisfaction in her voice, “This is my friend. I thought you’d like to meet her.”

It's safe to say that Sam didn't like Tara's new friend at all.

“You didn’t think about telling me you were bringing someone?” Sam exclaimed, rubbing her temples wearily, “Especially that Lydia Deetz project right there? I almost shocked her in the middle of the hallway!”

Quinn shifted from where she was leaning against the counter in the small impromptu meeting and didn’t bother to hold back her laugh, “Nah, I think Tara would fit that role better.”

“Quinn,” Sam groaned exasperatedly.

“If I had told you you would have said no,” Tara shrugged.

“Yes! Because we don’t know her!”

It was quite awkward sitting on the couch in their living room less than five feet away from the kitchen and being able to hear every word spoken as if you weren't right there, with your messy dog ​​happily chewing on the sock on your ankle.

This wasn't the turn you expected your night to take when you decided to accept Tara's sudden invitation for a movie night, visiting her off-campus for the first time since you became friends.

You met her at the start of the school year, the day she showed up for a film club meeting before anyone else arrived, well, anyone except you. She seemed completely lost and suspicious, even though she was clearly struggling not to show it, which made you like her right away.

Getting attention and starting conversations was never really your thing, this whole club thing wasn't either, honestly, but you ended up being one of the last older members to join with most of the others having recently graduated and the responsibility of looking after the new freshmans gradually fell on you. Most of the time you kept to yourself, preferring the behind-the-scenes side of things to participating in the long-winded debates of high school teens obsessed with slashers and making Stab parodies, but you noticed the way Tara seemed desperate for any sense of normalcy beneath her laid-back facade and the whispers of murder that haunted her.

You took what seemed like a rabid kitten under your wing and ended up cornered by the personification of a Doberman because of it. Talk about doing good deeds and stepping out of your comfort zone. What a joke.

Tara’s older sister, Sam, if you got it right, stared at you with narrowed, suspicious eyes – just like Tara when you first approached her – towering over your figure that tried to look smaller than it actually was on the couch, as if she was trying to learn every little hidden detail about you.

“So…” you began hesitantly, wanting to break the awkward silence that had ensued, “you have such a beautiful house.”

“Aren’t you too old to hangout with a freshmen?" Sam cut in coldly, one eyebrow perfectly arched in distrust.

You sighed, this conversation sure started off very well, “I’m 23,” you cleared your throat, “Tara’s in the same club as me, and I’ve just been helping her with some classes I used to take when I first started here.”

You hear Tara’s distinct chuckle, clearly amused by your frustration, which doesn’t help your situation much. What a wonderful friend, indeed.

Sam hummed with fake indifference and the other two housemates watched the exchange intently, eyes darting between you like they were at a tennis match, amused by the sight of Sam trying to intimidate the poor unsuspecting twit that you were.

A great friend, for sure. Ugh, this is why you don’t sponsor obviously troubled kids.

It’s not like Sam Carpenter is really intimidating or scaring you out the way she seems to want to, she has bags under her eyes and a greasy pizza stain on her shirt and you’re a grown woman, for God’s sake! It’s just that it was extremely embarrassing to cause a scene like that, especially with someone who you really wanted to make a good first impression.

Interacting so much socially lately was becoming relatively exhausting and you expected it wouldn't become a thing, as you were feeling a bit overwhelmed by everything. You hoped this would be the last big meeting you had for a while. Tara had told you a lot about her sister, mainly about how it was a pain in the ass to always have someone hovering over her, but it was something you never took seriously because of the way she sounded when she talked about it, too loving for someone who hated the situation so much. No, Sam was important and Tara had insisted that you meet her after doing the same with the twins just a few days ago. You had carefully planned how it would happen, what clothes you would wear and what you would say and now your chance to make things right was ruined, the words seeming to have escaped you in a flash. You were reserved, quiet, small in the midst of so much hustle and bustle, used to watching everything go by from the safety of the shadows. Being a mouse was easy.

“Is that all you have to say?”

Less easy when caged with a lion.

“Look,” you tried again, silently squirming as your pup start sniffing Sam’s combat boots furiously as you stood to pick him up, “I really didn’t want to cause any trouble or misunderstanding, Tara called me earlier while I was walking this little guy and insisted it would be okay if I came over for a movie. I can leave now if you want to, I’m really sorry for… well, all of this.”

You noticed Sam's expression became conflicted, as if she didn't know exactly what to make of you standing in the middle of her living room without showing any threat and wasn't used to people actually listening to her on sight. Still, she wasn't going to give up that easily.

“Great,” Sam nodded, her voice sounding less firm, “go then.” She pointed directly at your dog, now sitting at her feet with its fluffy head tilted to the side in a guiltily innocent manner, “And make sure to take that pizza thief with you.”

(You swear he looked personally offended.)

“What? No!” Tara seemed to realize that her little game could backfire and came out from behind the counter in your defense.

“Tara—”

“Come on, Sam, it's movie night!” She stomped her foot loudly, “I refused the invite to Jason's party for that, we were marathoning all the Texas Chainsaw Massacres!”

You don’t even have to be good at reading people to know that Sam had lost that fight the moment Tara looked at her with pleading eyes, knowing that there was no way to blame her for simply doing what she asked.

That didn’t stop Sam from rolling her eyes and huffing in irritation.

“Fine,” she practically growled, shifting her attention back to you, “But I’m gonna keep an eye on you, so you better not act all smart and keep that fleabag away from me.”

“His name’s Koda.” You pointed out, before softening, “And thank you, I promise I’m not gonna—”

“Shush.”

Sam was sure this was all part of an act of yours, just the first step to infiltrate their lives and pull the rug out like others have done before, because no one in their right mind would sit quietly next to someone who nearly shocked and threatened them in many ways just a few minutes ago.

Especially if that someone is burning holes in your head with their eyes, like she's doing now.

Sam watches shamelessly and intrigued, shooting daggers at your figure as you lean back with Tara babbling enthusiastically between you, your puppy completely knocked out on her lap, oblivious to the sounds of death and fake blood spurting from the TV. She notices the way you effectively ignore her, responding to Tara’s remarks with genuine interest, even if your voice doesn’t match her enthusiasm.

You remained quiet beyond those moments and the tiredness along with your lack of sudden movements made Sam feel secure enough to leave the room and finally take a shower – because along with everything she never saw much fun in these movies like Tara –, warning you that it was better for everyone to finish the night when the movie ended.

(She also forced Quinn to take her place on the couch and promise to scream if anything happened. You didn't comment on that either.)

Sam only falls asleep when she hears the sounds of goodbyes coming from the living room and the door house being closed, finally relaxing after all the interaction, deciding that it was enough. You could have been at her house, but that doesn't mean she would let you come over again.

You come back, because of course Tara doesn’t give a damn about Sam’s warnings about being careful around strangers – incessantly claiming that you’re not a stranger – and there you are at the next game night that Chad insisted on making a tradition.

At least there’s no sign of the shirt-destroying furball this time and there are pizzas smelling good on the kitchen counter.

“‘Sup, Sam!” Chad greeted loudly as she walked through the door, waving excitedly from the couch, “We’re playin’ uno!”

Her eyes landed on you, who waved at her with a small, tight smile, awkwardly sandwiched between Anika and Ethan, the way you stood out among them so comical that Sam suppressed a snort. She decided to join in without much protest, someone responsible still had to watch you, after all.

Sam wouldn’t admit to anyone, absolutely anyone, that she was enjoying the evening, listening to the heated exchanges as everyone got competitive. Strangely, she noticed that you didn’t try to engage much in the conversation, just like the other night, seeming happy to just be there. She thought you had been withdrawn then because of her behavior towards you, but maybe you were just shy.

That made her raise an eyebrow, Tara didn’t usually embrace introverts. Actually, she had always been pretty popular even before Sam left, if she remembered correctly, so this was new. She felt a small piece of curiosity spark inside her instead of more mistrust as she expected and it disconcerted her.

“The whole point of the 7 card is that you're not supposed to talk, man!” Mindy throwing chips at Ethan interrupted Sam's flow of thoughts.

“This rule is stupid! The manual doesn't even mention it, read it for yourself!” Ethan shuffled the cards wildly – ​​everyone at the table had seen his hand – pointing, “And you’re talking too!”

“Whatever! Nobody reads the fuckin manual to play uno, Ethan!”

Tara groaned, “Guys, just shut up and everybody buys a card.”

“But that’s not how you play!”

She decided to abandon the game and all the fuss in favor of getting some air and a slice of pizza and was surprised to find that her favorite was still untouched, which was a miracle in such a crowded house.

“Tara said that you liked this flavor,” your voice coming from nearby startled her and Sam saw you gesture to the box in front of her, “My treat, for the other day.”

She cleared her throat hesitantly, “You didn’t have to.”

“I did,” you dismissed with a wider smile, “My dog ​​left you without dinner.”

Sam didn’t respond, but you leaned against the counter next to her anyway, picking at the dark polish on your nails casually, listening to your friends arguing in the background.

“Get tired of the crowd?” Sam asked, deciding that ignoring you wasn’t an option since you clearly weren’t leaving.

“Yeah,” you agreed, shrugging with an odd laugh, “I guess I’ve had enough socializing for one day.”

Sam wasn’t sure why she didn’t just send you away then, seizing the perfect chance to dismiss you like she’d wanted all along and avail everyone's presence to remind that you weren’t welcome, but that strange spark flared in her and made her smile unconsciously, more sincere than the previous tense ones.

“Oh, I know what you mean,” she agreed slowly.

Your expression brightens in surprise, as if you expected a cold, blunt rejection or maybe a slap (probably both) and Sam feels a bit guilty by it. Sighing, she waves you towards the apartment’s tiny balcony, silently inviting you to join her, to which you respond with a firm nod as you watch her unwind the chain on the sliding door – they keep everything locked up tight now – and follow her.

Sam swears she’s not doing this to be nice or anything, all she wants is to repay you for your politeness, that’s all.

The night breeze is refreshing and sends pleasant shivers down your arms and shoulders as Sam leans against the railing and the two of you fall silent. It’s pleasant, actually.

Sam takes a moment to look at you, like, really look at you for the first time since you met and her breath hitches.

Your relaxed features look cheerful and are well-emphasized by the makeup you’re wearing – she tries to search her memory and gets frustrated when she can’t remember if it’s the same style as the night you met – your hair blows a little in the wind and your clothes just fit. Every single thing about you seems to have been specially made to be this way, charming, beautiful.

Your elbow brushes hers in the small space as you lean in to better contemplate the dreary, empty New York sky and Sam’s skin is burning and she doesn’t understand why.

Sam didn’t realize, through all the haze of anger and suspicion and tantrum, until she was touching a pretty girl, that you were, in fact, a pretty girl.

Shit.

“You’re trying so hard not to like her that I’m getting embarrassed for you.”

It’s late. Everyone has already left, including you, who went early claiming you had to work the next morning. Tara should be in bed by now, but she’d be upset if Sam told her to do that, so she doesn’t say anything.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam dismisses, packing up the last of the leftover pizza to put in the fridge.

“But you do,” Tara hums smugly, stifling a yawn, “Just admit that you were wrong and that I’ve made a friend who’s not a potential serial killer. And that you might have a crush on her. I saw you two on the balcony.”

“It wasn’t like that,” she grumbles, “And I wasn’t wrong for being worried that you brought home a stranger without telling me, even if she’s not dangerous.”

“Ha!” Tara points out, “So you admit she’s no danger.”

Sam sighs tiredly, bringing a hand up to massage her temple, “She can keep coming over for movie nights or whatever if that’s what you're asking me.”

Tara cheered, jumping up from where she was sitting on the counter to finally go to sleep. She stopped just before turning the corner to her room.

“Seriously though,” she caught Sam’s attention, “You guys have more in common then you might think, that’s why I like her. I think you could too, if you get to know her better.”

“That’s impossible, Tar,” Sam says weary, looking at her sister with the most done expression, “I don’t ‘get to know’ anyone, I already have all the people I need in my life.”

“Maybe you’ll be surprised,” she shrugged, “It would be good for you anyway.”

Sam's approval was all Tara needed to make you a regular fixture in their lives and make movie nights an official thing. Sam usually walks in when they're in full swing, with the two of you deep in conversation about the completely random movie you decided to watch that day, and now she greets you back instead of ignoring like she did before and you look happier every time she does it openly.

She finds excuses to wander around the living room and kitchen when she hears Tara pause the tv for whatever reason, just so she doesn't leave you unsupervised in their house – it was still too early to rule out all the care, after all. It ends up making her feel kind of ridiculous, because, hell, she shouldn't have to make excuses to wander around her own house! But you guys talk during these moments, sometimes.

Sam learns more about you as time goes on, and she tells herself that it's just gathering information, that you're not friends at all, but she finds herself soaking up every bit of detail. What are you majoring in, how long have you been in town, if you live close to campus like most students or if you have roommates like them.

(Actually, when she thinks about it now, Sam probably sounded more like a maniac trying to find out where you live, but at least you didn’t call her out on it.)

Then movie nights are joined by study sessions that Tara insists on having as her first week of finals approaches, and you manage to convince Sam to let you bring your puppy too so he won’t be alone for so many hours and she can act a little more normal around you and have a conversation that doesn’t sound like a job interview. You tell her about the movies you like – which consist of more than just an extensive list of slashers like she initially assumed – in a loud and excited tone instead of your usual repressed one, and it stirs something inside her, which leads to several other facts. Your favorite color, what kind of music you like, what you do when her sister isn't dragging you somewhere, and why you decided to adopt a dog so young when you already had so many other responsibilities.

“He helps me not feel alone,” you replied, looking deep into her eyes, “my roommate graduated last year and moved out. I guess I couldn’t stand coming home to empty houses, you know? And he’s my guard dog, he takes care of me and I take care of him. The little guy might be small but knows how to do damage.”

She could relate to that, in part.

And then you start asking too, suddenly and Sam finds herself with a dilemma after so long avoiding your attempts to get to know her. She’d rather remain closed off.

But a trade isn’t a fair trade unless she gives you something back, is it? And you’ve been quenching her thirst for knowledge for a long time now, you gave her a lot.

So, during one night when you insist on helping her make dinner, she confides in you – somewhat reluctantly – that she really enjoys cooking, especially healthier meals. She doesn't look at you, nor does she say it clearly but still, you listen and Sam is surprised when she finds herself speaking.

“You really should ask her out.”

And of course, Tara is always close enough to raise an eyebrow with a knowing look at her on practically every occasion.

“I've told you already, it's not like that.”

“You're cuddling her dog right now.”

“Just so he stays quiet and doesn't disturb you two! Shouldn't you be studying, by the way?”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying.”

Sam can almost, almost admit that you're her friend too.

(Though she kinda wished it were a little more than that.)

Movie nights evolve into sleepovers, because Sam argues that it’s simply too late and dangerous for you to come back alone and she feels embarrassed – and guilty as much – when Quinn brings up that it has always been dangerous and she didn’t mind letting you go before, when she didn’t care about you.

Now there are some of your clothes in a drawer Tara set aside for you just like a colorful food bowl in the living room for your dog – Mindy jokes that it's theirs now – and there’s rarely a day that goes by where she doesn’t see you.

And when you don’t come over, Tara makes sure to remind her of how anxious she looks waiting for a knock on the door and how she lights up when you greet her first when you finally arrive.

“I swear that now she comes here more to see you than me.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Yeah, sure,” she huffs, “And when are you gonna make a move again?”

“Never, Tara.”

Sam hasn't heard a thing about you in days. Tara said yesterday that you ended up getting really busy with a college project, preparing a presentation that, her sister quotes, 'needs to be perfect because public speaking is horrible and there's a big chance I'll embarrass myself.'

It's not that Sam asked, it's just that she doesn't text you often and Tara thought it would be convenient to talk about it out loud when she was on the phone with Mindy.

Anyway, it doesn't really matter, it's not like you two are close. You are Tara's friend. If it weren't for her, you two wouldn't even have a reason to see each other. There's no reason to be so stressed.

But she misses you anyway. She's having a shitty day at her shitty job and everything seems to go by even slower because Sam knows that when she gets home at night you probably won't be on the couch waiting with the soft smile she's grown accustomed to looking forward and if she has to deal with another group of rude teenagers she'll freak out.

The sound of the bell ringing at the entrance draws Sam’s attention back to the counter and she ends up face to face with the person who has been on her mind all day.

“Sam!” you approached with a tired smile, your dog wagging his tail happily on a leash in one hand and a paper bag in the other, “I was looking for you.”

You'd never visited her at work before, she didn't even know you knew where it was, having only mentioned it in passing, but there you were, with the smile she wanted to see and bags under your eyes.

“Hi,” she cleared her throat, feeling her face heat up. Damn, she looked like a teen girl with a crush, “I didn't expect to see you here, what, uhm, what do you need?”

You snorted at her flustered attending voice. Seeing her show any kind of nervousness was very unusual.

“Tara called me today demanding I get out of the house for a bit and ‘touch some grass’, so I decided to bring this buddy along, he was begging me for a proper walk,” you shrugged, “And she asked me to bring your lunch.”

Sam paused at that, Tara definitely didn't make lunches for her, much less go to the trouble of delivering them like that.

“...Thank you,” she accepted the paper bag you held out delicately, eyeing the package suspiciously. You held back a giggle when she looked at you again, “Anything else?”

“Oh, um,” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, obviously nervous, “I’m taking Koda to the park nearby and I thought maybe you’d like to come with us. If you can, of course.”

Sam couldn’t really, it was still a few hours before her shift ended at the coffee shop, but she didn’t want you to leave without the promise of seeing you again.

“Of course,” she found herself replying instead, “I can meet you there in a few minutes.”

She knew she’d made the right decision when you gifted her with one of your warm smiles.

“Okay! Nice,” you nod, absently twirling your dog’s leash around your fingers, startled by the sudden, loud bark he lets out at the delay, breaking the oblivious bubble you were in, “Alright, I should go before he starts trying to jump over the counter.”

Sam barely hears the sound of the bell announcing your departure over how loudly her heart pounds in her ears.

It takes a lot of willpower and her last pack of good cigarettes to convince her insufferable coworker — who’d watched the whole thing with a bored expression and loudly chewing gum while cleaning the coffee machine — to cover the rest of her shift. He ended up ordering her lunch too, thinking it might be something special, only to complain when he was met with a sad peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a carton of warm apple juice. Tara really didn’t cook… but then why had she done that?

(She laughed at him anyway.)

“You owe me, Carpenter,” he grumbled, taping a note to her arm that had fallen out of the package.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

Sam was out the door before he could change his mind.

Taking a deep breath of the damp autumn air, she picked up the yellow post-it note curiously, recognizing her sister’s handwriting immediately.

‘u looked so depressed lately that I

decided to send u a gift

DO something this time

good luck!!’

She knew. She fucking knew that smartass had set her up. Sam should have guessed it before. Tara would never let her get away with this without doing something with her own hands. At least she hadn’t brought Mindy into the scheme this time.

The park you had mentioned was more like a small square and with the rainy cold weather of the last few days, it was pretty empty. Sam could spot you without difficulty, sitting on one of the few benches watching the scenery and she made her presence known when she got close enough.

“Can he even sit still sometimes?” Sam asked, hands in her bomber jacket pockets, pointing with her chin at the dog playing alone on the grass. You moved a little so she could sit next to you and subtly moved closer when she did.

“It rained last night and he's a big fan of puddles,” you chuckled, “I guess he's just excited, we haven't been out much lately.”

He wasn't the puppy he'd been when Sam had first seen him a few months ago and the sight of him running around the trees chasing flowers and stray twigs was actually quite funny.

“He's so covered in mud that it looks like a bear.”

“Well, his name's Koda,” you pointed out amusedly, “I would have called him Pongo but he always looked more like a small bear than a dalmatian anyway.”

She snorted, “If you say so.”

Sam couldn't remember a time when she felt so relaxed, with the weight of your shoulder resting against hers, enjoying the weather of the early season, the ground covered in orange and yellow leaves framing your surroundings.

She couldn't stop the restlessness she felt inside her chest, watching your profile. Feeling warm inside, but also shivering with a terrible fear of ruining everything. Do something, do something, do something echoing like a mantra in her head.

Sam took a deep breath. She'd faced murderers before, for God's sake! She could be braver than that.

"So..." She coughed, "Tara set this up, you know? The lunch stuff and everything."

You turned your attention to Sam, raising an eyebrow with a confused look.

"She did?" You asked, "Why would she do that?"

It's now or never, Carpenter. Focus.

“She did it so I could see you,” she looked away, “Because I missed you. Because I…” She felt your hand reach for hers and noticed a fallen leaf on your shoulder.

“Because you…?” your voice echoed anxious. She could do this. She's going to do this.

“I—”

A loud howl scared the two of you and you turned to see Koda behind a pile of leaves, pupils dilated and jumping up and down.

“Oh no.”

“What?” She stammered.

“He saw a pigeon.”

You see, Sam is not a pet person. She has only had one guinea pig her entire life and only before her father left and a 6-year-old Tara let it escape from its cage never to be seen again – poor Darwin would always be remembered – she does not know how to handle dogs, much less big, excitable ones like yours.

Yet she grabs the leash from your hands when you finally reach your dog who won't stop barking at a tree and ignores your warnings that he is heavy and strong, Sam, it will end up dragging you away and tries to gently pull him to convince him to let go so you can get out of there. Because she is big and strong and she wants to show you that she can handle a mere happy dog.

He acknowledges her like she wanted and also drags her like you said he would.

This manages to surprise her more than the first stab wound she took, how one minute she’s standing still, telling your silly dog ​​to walk in a confident condescending tone, and the next she’s running at full speed through the trees and puddles of the park, your worried voice ringing behind her, as does your laughter.

“Sam!” you exclaimed from a distance, hands cupped around your mouth and dark red scarf falling from your neck, “You need to stop!”

She does stop, yes, but only after your dog has already circled her and Sam must be a ridiculous sight with a colorful leash wrapped around her legs and a dog panting with its tongue out next to her.

“Oh my god,” you lean in closer, unable to hide the amusement in your voice, “Are you okay?”

Sam huffed, feeling a strand of hair fall across her face: “A little help would be appreciated.”

“Sure,” you laughed, reaching out to carefully untangle it, “Maybe I should call him Pongo after all.”

She rolled her eyes: “Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not mocking you, it’s just cute.”

Sam opened her mouth to retort, only to realize how close you two were, with your hands resting on her shoulders to steady her and your faces just inches apart, your breath tickling her skin. You seemed to realize the same thing, tongue coming out to wet your lips, your gaze fixed on her mouth.

Do something. Do something. Do something.

She finally does something. She kisses you.

It's all a mix of sensations, she feels when you sigh, breathing through your nose in surprise and satisfaction, she feels where your hands tighten on the fabric of her jacket and tastes you, warm lips contrasting with the cold skin of your cheeks, with traces of coffee, lipstick and something else so undeniably you that Sam swears her heart might stop.

You pull apart hesitantly, breathing fast, noses touching, eyes shining, and she feels herself falling, literally. Your dog jumps on your waist, demanding to be petted, and you fall, taking Sam with you.

Landing in a pile of leaves is more uncomfortable than the movies make it out to be, but Sam can’t find it in herself to protest when you’re the one on top of her. She smiles and you laugh out loud. She didn’t mess up.

“You’re covered in leaves,” you say, running your fingers through her hair, “And your face is smeared with black lipstick.”

She scoffs, “I wonder who’s responsible for that.”

“He is,” you point innocently at the dog standing next to you.

Sam rolls her eyes, but cups your face with her cold hands to pull you close again, and the second kiss she gives you is just as magical as the first.

Tara doesn’t expect to find a dog taking up the entire couch for the first time in days when she comes back from Chad’s dorm after sending you off on a fake mission to find her sister. Yet, hours later, there it is, with one of the sneakers she forgot to put away when she got home from class stuck in his mouth and trails of mud and leaves across the room.

“C’mon, man, that’s not a toy!”

She hears a laugh and finds herself face to face with Sam, looking completely filthy despite the sound of the shower running in the hallway and Tara knows Quinn isn’t home yet. Oh.

“So, you finally did something?”

Sam nods solemnly, pointing to the dark kiss etched into her jaw.

“I did.”

[dizscreams]

ETHAN WALKING IN ON YOU CHANGING FIC !!!

LETS DO IT!!! I’m not sure if you wanted this suggestive or fluff so there’s bothhh!

Accident — Ethan Landry ★

PAIRING: Ethan x fem!reader

A/N: we loveee dizzy being in her active era!!

All Ethan was trying to do was give you back the notebook you left in his dorm when you had come over to study the other day. He didn’t know you’d be half naked when he walked in. And plus he knocked! Twice! He’s never been so embarrassed, well he has, but this felt so much worse for some reason. Maybe cause he’s liked you for so long now and he’s dreamed of seeing you like that, but on other circumstances. Circumstances where it was intentional.

“Chad, I can’t face her. This is so bad, oh my god,” Ethan’s worried voice was muffled by his hands covering his face. His roommate wasn’t doing anything to help him either, he was just laughing in his face. “Dude! It’ll be fine, don’t stress it,” Chad said while slapping Ethan’s back. Ethan shot him a glare and continued to pace the living room of the apartment you shared with Sam, Tara, and Quinn. Anika was actually trying to help him, Mindy was making fun of him just like her twin was, and Tara was trying her best to help and not laugh at the same time.

There was no way he’d be able to look you in the eyes again. What did you think of him now?? Did you think he was creepy?? A perv?? Would you yell at him when you walked back in?? Tara put a hand on Ethan’s shoulder trying to calm him down, “I’m sure it’s fine, Eth-” Ethan shook his head, “Its not! It’s so embarrassing you don’t understand- I like her a lot and I was planning to ask her out soon but there’s no chance she’d ever say yes now. Oh my god, I can’t imagine what she thinks of me right now,” he rambled while he flopped on the couch.

Ethan’s hands were on his face again and he noticed how everyone went silent. He slowly lowered his hands and looked at everyone, but they were focused on something else. He slowly followed their gazes to see you standing right there. Oh no. Did you hear that? How does everything keep getting worse?Ethan’s face turned bright red and he didn’t know what to do or what to say. After a moment of silence and way too much eye contact he spoke up, “Did you hear that?” He wanted to wince at how small and weak his voice sounded.

“Hear what?” You asked with an innocent tone and a head tilt. But you definitely knew and he knew you knew. I mean you had to. He could read you like a book. There was a mischievous glint in your eyes and a ghost of a smirk on your pretty lips, the lips he wanted to kiss so bad. After another pause of silence Chad decided to put on a movie so everyone could calm down and have a chill little movie night. Ethan was extremely thankful his roommate had a good idea for once, hoping this would take his mind off of everything that just happened.

He was talking with Anika and was starting to relax until you called for him, “Hey Eth, you wanna help me get the popcorn started?” He froze. Why? He wasn’t sure. This was normal and you didn’t seem to be upset at him or anything. This was fine, everything would be fine. “Yeah, sure,” he mumbled as he stood up. He made his way over to you in the kitchen and you smiled at him. He did his best to smile back and watched you get the popcorn bag and put it in the microwave. He looked at what you were wearing, little pajama shorts and a T-Shirt. Then he remembered what you were wearing when he walked in on you, nothing but your underwear.

He’d be lying if he said thinking about you wasn’t making him flush pink and a little hard. “Ethan?” His head snapped to look at your eyes, not realizing he had been staring at your ass the whole time. “I asked if you would get two bowls out for me? Mindy and Anika want to share and Chad and Tara are sharing. I guess you could get three if you want to share with me.” He barely registered what you had said but got three bowls out quickly, wanting to drown out the dirty thoughts he had begun to think about.

It was then he realized he hadn’t apologized for barging in your room just under 10 minutes ago. He placed the bowls on the counter and glanced at you, but you were already looking at him. He cleared his throat, “Um I’m sorry- y’know about earlier. I didn’t mean to walk in on you, I mean obviously. It was an accident, I promise,” he said quickly. You giggled at the flustered boy and he tried his best to avoid your gaze, but he couldn’t. He looked at you and the look on your face and he smiled, the blush on his cheeks not leaving.

“It’s okay, Eth. I didn’t mind,” you told him with a slight smirk. His eyebrows raised slightly and you chuckled. You leaned in and his breath hitched, he didn’t know where this was going. Your hand snaked up his chest and all the way up to cup his face. You admired him for a second before you inched closer to him, making sure nobody else would hear you, “I was kind of sad you didn’t stay,” you said quietly. He didn’t understand. “What?” He asked matching your volume.

“Well all day I’ve been thinking about you.” Your hand was now touching his biceps. “I was hoping when you walked in you would’ve stayed and helped me out, been so needy for you all day,” you confessed while looking at him with big eyes. He thought he was gonna pass out. His cock was definitely hard now, now that he knew you thought of him like he thought of you. And you wanted him, you needed him, just like how he wanted and needed you. “Fuck,” he muttered. You were so close to him and all he wanted was to fuck you against the counter or kiss you, or touch you. Just something. But there were people around.

He couldn’t give a fuck less about a movie right now or that he heard Chad asking what the fuck was taking so long, all he cared about was you. You were intoxicating. “Can we go to my dorm?” He asked you suddenly, the tension getting too much for him. Ethan searched your eyes for any signs of disgust or discomfort, but he didn’t find anything like that. Your eyes were full of lust and want, and it was for him, all for him. “Yes please,” you grabbed his hand and left the kitchen. “We’re going, don’t wait up!” You rushed out the door with Ethan stumbling behind you, a dumb smile on his face.

LMAO it turned to me wanting it to be fluffy into smth suggestive im sorry 😔 fluffy fics comin soon I sweaaarrrr and I’m tired af so this is lazy I apologize but hope you enjoy regardless!

[shalomsexual]

SPECIAL CALL

Prompt: In which Reader is at work but receives a 'special' call from her girlfriend.

Warnings: Phone sex, f!ingering, dirty talk

Game: Path to nowhere

A/n: This is my first time writing phone sex so please excuse the brain of my last two brain cells 🙏

Working for the Quinn company wasn't an easy task; and your position at the prestigious company certainly wasn't one to be taken lightly. As the head of the finance department, you were tasked with several tedious jobs that required your attention at all times. CEO Eirene has always expected good results to come from the financial aspect of her company because she knew you were capable and determined and a mindset like that could get you far places.

However, what you didn't expect was the receive a phone call from your girlfriend- Eleven. Eleven and you had been dating for a year and a half now. Your relationship was progressing slowly but surely, you were aware that she was a sinner but did you care? Hell to the fuck no. You practically work for a sinner so you didn't mind. You are aware of her job as a radio host and you absolutely love her program. Eleven was a daring one to say the least. She constantly makes flirtatious comments which you didn't take to heart and she was quite suggestive too. Despite dating for a while now, you both have never done the deed. Though she didn't mind, sometimes she wish you were intimate. That didn't stop the girl from fantasing about your long slender fingers, the ones she would drool over as she watched it work on a keyboard.

"Darling~" Eleven's sultry voice resounded through the ear worn microphones that was connected to your phones.

"H-hi Eleven. How are you?" As you checked the watch, you saw it was quite late and you still had some work to do so you took a short break, and talked to your girlfriend.

"You've been so busy haven't you? Hardly had the time to chat with your girlfriend but don't worry darling, I have a gift for you. Oh darling just for you~"

You nervously gulped at the so damn seductive voice, knowing its going to be more than a five minute break.

"What is the gift?"

"Oh its a special call. For my favourite listener~" the air in the room became increasingly hot so you turned on the nearby fan.

"R-really? A-are you going to sing me a song? O-or read me a story?" To say you were nervous was an understatement. Eleven let out a soft chuckle.

"Not quite. It's even better..." Silence engulfed the line before the sound of something wet was heard. It was more like a squelching sound.

"Ele-Shh... do you hear that? How wet I am for you?" She moaned softly, her velvety voice going through the phone and into your ears, tickling your brain. Your eyes widened as you immediately understood what was going on.

"Y-yeah... yeah I hear it. Oh god Eleven not now please.." Your pleas went deaf in her ears as she inserted a finger into her cunt, the soft walls enveloping her fingers.

"I wish it was your fingers. Your long slender fingers ahh~" she softly moaned, imaging it was your fingers instead of hers. "Oh y/n... I want you so bad nghhh~"

You face palmed in embarrassment, red coating your face. You felt your own arousal beginning to form. "Oh darling don't be shy... tell me what you want me to do~"

Your breaths came out in an uneven pattern. Okay maybe you enjoyed it a little right now but that doesn't mean she should continue. It's such an inappropriate- ah fuck it.

"Fuck Eleven why do you do this to me huh? You're like a needy slut. Always horny." Eleven gasped at your words, the unexpected switch in your personality made her wetter. "Add another finger love."

Without hesitation, Eleven placed the phone at an angle that would capture the elicit sounds escaping from both of her lips. She inserted another finger before slowly thrusting them in and out, slick coating her digits. "Ahh d-darling~"

"That's it. Good girl. Keep fingering yourself like that.." your praises spurred her on even more. Praising was one of her kinks. She just had to be a good girl for you; always trying her best to satisfy your needs. "Add another one baby."

"A-another one?"

"Yeah you can take it right?" Your voice had a little hesitation due to never having done phone sex with someone before. As if Eleven could sense your uneasiness, she smiled.

"I can take it darling... Just for you." She added another finger, the three digits stretching her pussy open. She felt her high slowly approaching, coming like a force. "D-darling-ahh I'm close... so close.."

"Mm you wanna come baby?"

"Yes-nghh... yes I wanna... come... p-please."

Who were you to deny your sweetheart such pleasure? "Alright love you can come."

Eleven continued thrusting her fingers, bringing her other hand to pinch her nipples. Her legs shook with zeal as she came, her juices coating the sheets and some falling onto her phone. You heard the loud erotic moans and the sound of water splashing. "O-oh darling... I have to wash your sheets." She giggled melodically.

"Yeah y...wait! Are you in my house?!" She giggled even more, falling into your pillow as she took a sniff, a breathy moan escaping her lips.

"Yes I am.. did you forget you gave me a key?" Now that she mentioned it, you did give her a key to go to your apartment whenever she wanted. With a sigh, you chuckled.

"I did forget."

"Oh my~ is your memory getting foggy from thinking about me too much, hmm?"

"N-no!"

You heard shuffling coming from the other end of the line when suddenly your phone received a message. As you picked it up, your jaw dropped. Eleven had sent you a two pictures. One where she took her fingers and spread open her pussy and the other is where she sat on your pillow, her pussy pressed flush against the softness.

"Don't expect a dry pillow when you come home, darling~"

[auras-moonstone]

hi! i love the way you write and was hoping if you had time for this rec :) ethan x reader

it's inspired by 'the summer i turned pretty'

y/n is the bailey's childhood friend, she was very close to ethan and quinn growing up, but when she comes back to newyork, richie is suddenly very interested in her and the shitty brother that he is, he know that ethan had a thing for her.

"You think she's pretty?" richie asked ethan one day.

"Yeah, and you do too," ethan replied already annoyed, trying to brush it off.

"I hadn't noticed, really," richie said, smirking.

"Come on, man. I've noticed you noticing"

richie is the it-boy of the town, always gets what he wants, cocky and arrogant. y/n was the only thing ethan had for himself only.

sorry if its long 😭😭 its mostly angsty id say, y/n is surprised someone like richie likes her but her heart has always been yearning for ethan whom she thinks will never see her that way.

childhood best friends to lovers is one of my favorite tropes so i really had a lot of fun writing this! hope you like it💓🫶🏻

you’re my best friend — ethan landry

word count: 2,465

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: when y/n goes back to new york city she finds out two things—she’s still crushing on ethan and richie took an interest in her.

WHEN Y/N AND HIS FAMILY HAD TO LEAVE NEW YORK FOR LONDON, THE BAILEY��S WERE LEFT HEARTBROKEN, ESPECIALLY QUINN AND ETHAN. Both of their families had been close since forever, so Quinn, Ethan, Y/N and Richie grew up together and the first three developed a really close friendship.

Y/N’s dad got a promotion, so they had to move to England, where Y/N finished high school and started college. Now, though, her dad had been offered to go back to New York if he wanted. And because he missed the city and his friends, he said yes.

The first thing Y/N did when she found out was text her best friends—Quinn and Ethan, with whom she had kept contact with despite the distance. She was excited to see them, and wondered what she would feel when she finally saw Ethan again. She’d like to think she got over her crush, but that’s because they hadn’t seen each other in four years.

And there she was, about to find out. Y/N was standing in front of the Bailey’s house with her parents behind her. The door opened and Y/N’s chest grew tight in anticipation, and then she held a sigh of disappointment when Wayne’s face appeared.

The older man greeted her parents with enthusiasm, and when it was her time to say hello, the man opened his mouth in shock “Oh my! You’ve grown a lot! It’s nice to see you again, Y/N”

“You too, Wayne” she hugged him awkwardly. Y/N wasn’t his biggest fan, she still remember all too well the way he treated Ethan. Always comparing him to Richie, making him feel like garbage.

“Quinn and Richie are in the kitchen” he informed her. She nodded and made her way to said place.

As soon as she set foot on the big kitchen, she was attacked by a hug. “Oh my god! You’re here!” she recognized the voice of Quinn.

“I’m here! I missed you” she broke the hug to take a look at her friend’s new hairstyle “Red is definitely your color, Q. You look so good.”

“And London certainly benefited you, holy shit. You look hot. Give me a chance?” the red-head joked.

“Absolutely” she laughed, hugging her once more. “I can’t believe I’m back”

“Hi, Y/N” Richie finally managed to find his voice. He had been completely entranced by the girl. Quinn was right, she got hot. He had never noticed her, because well, he had always seen her as his sibling’s friend and because she had been 15 when she left. Now, she was 19 and super attractive.

“Oh, sorry. Hi, Richie. Nice to see you again” she gave him a little wave. Y/N wasn’t sure she liked the way Richie was shamelessly checking her out. “Where is Eth?” she tried not to sound so excited.

“Oh, he’s in his room, as always. Drowning himself in text books and having no social life whatsoever” Richie rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“He doesn’t know you’re coming today, so go surprise him” Quinn said, eyeing the way Y/N’s knuckles turned white. She had always hated when people talked badly about Ethan, and apparently, it didn’t change.

Y/N walked up the stairs, anguish filling her stomach and her heart beating so fast it made her cheeks turn red. She stood in front of the door, trying to gain the courage to knock. There was just one door separating her from Ethan, the guy who had been her first crush ever. Her best friend in the entire world.

“Come in” she heard, and almost fainted. Not because she was seconds away from seeing his face after four years, but because she noticed the change in his voice. It was deeper, raspier and… hot.

Y/N took a deep breath and opened the door. There he was, lying on his bed, headphones flattening his perfect curly hair and book open on his lap.

His round brown eyes found hers, and he jumped off the bed so fast he got dizzy. Y/N laughed and ran into his arms, that were instantly wrapped around her lower back to pull her up and against his chest. Her legs locked around his waist.

“Please tell me you’re real and I’m not making you up” Ethan said, face between her neck and shoulder blades.

“I’m real” she laughed. “And I’m back to stay. Holy shit, you got so fucking tall”

“And you have not grown and inch” he joked, letting her feet touch the ground again.

“Mean” Y/N punched his arm playfully. “Where is your Justin Bieber haircut?!”

“That was a phase I don’t want to remember” he shook his head. “What, you don’t like my curls?”

“No… I love them. You have amazing hair” Y/N complimented.

Ethan blushed, and took his time to let his eyes take in her face. Her factions were more defined, her lips were fuller, eyes a little darker but still very bright, and smile as warm as ever. She had grown a bit, but she was still short compared to him, her head barely reached his shoulders. She looked even prettier than before, and Ethan couldn’t believe he would be able to see her everyday.

The tall boy had also changed a lot, and Y/N needed to figure out how to stop looking at him before she weirded him out. His jawline was sharp as a diamond, his cheekbones more defined, and surprisingly, he had muscles. Enthralling, captivating muscles. He was pretty, adorable and hot at the same time and Y/N’s doubts faded away—her crush on him was still very much intact.

“You look stunning, Y/N/N. I missed you” he said in a low voice. They were so close, his arms still around her, and the moment felt intimate and cozy. It was at that moment Y/N realized how much she had missed her home.

“I missed you too” she smiled, happiness was radiating off her. Y/N was so happy she could cry. “Can I hug you again?”

“You don’t have to ask. You know I love your hugs, and I missed them. So, you’ll have to hug me a lot to make up for the lost time” Ethan answered, chest almost exploding for the amount of adoration he felt for her.

None of them knew for how long they stayed in each others arms, if it had been just minutes or hours, but they did know that either way, it hadn’t been enough. They could’ve stayed like that forever.

SAYING THAT Y/N CAUGHT THE ATTENTION OF EVERY BLACKMORE STUDENTS WOULD BE GOING A LITTLE TOO FAR, but she certainly had the attention of the people she had classes with. Not only because of her looks, but also because she entered in the middle of the semester, which was extremely unusual. Y/N hated the twenty pairs of eyes on her, but she was thankful she at least had Ethan by her side.

The nerdy boy felt a little uneased by the reaction Y/N caused. She had always been someone only Ethan used to notice—thought he never understood why, because she was the most amazing girl in the world—, and the thought of that changing made him panic. Because there were so many guys who were better than him, and now that she had options, Ethan knew Y/N would never choose him.

“How is your first day going?” to her surprise, Richie asked.

“Um, good?” she said, unsure. It was weird, Richie and her had never been friends. He had never cared about her well-being, what was his deal now? She didn’t know.

But Ethan did, he could see it in his brother’s eyes. Richie was interested in Y/N and it made his blood boil. He knew Ethan had feelings for her, but of course he didn’t care.

“Great. If you need anything, feel free to tell me” he said, winking at her before leaving.

“That’s the weirdest thing that has ever happened to me. Is he okay? Did he fell from the stairs and hit his head or something?” Y/N asked Ethan.

The brunet laughed “He kind of became the ‘it’ boy of college, which fed his ego and makes him brave enough to flirt with every hot girl that crosses his path. You’re his next target.”

Richie had always been popular amongst girls—he was attractive, had that attitude girls found hot, and was sometimes funny—and exactly the type who would never look at Y/N’s way, or so she thought.

She couldn’t imagine herself with him, not only because ‘it’ boys weren’t her kind of boys, but also because her heart yearned for Ethan. Even when she knew he would never look at her as more than a friend.

“Well, time to damage it boy’s ego” Y/N said.

Ethan looked at her surprised “You are not into him?”

“Ethan, what the actual fuck? No!“ she laughed in shock. Wasn’t it painfully obvious that she had a crush on him and not Richie? Guess not. Or maybe Ethan was way too oblivious.

“Okay” wasn’t she imagine it or did she actually hear relief in his voice?

ETHAN AND RICHIE SAT ON THE BEACH CHAIRS NEXT TO THEIR POOL, THEIR EYES ON THE VOLEY MATCH HAPPENING IN FRONT OF THEM. It was Quinn and Y/N vs. Tara and Mindy, and Ethan’s eyes were specifically focused on Y/N’s figure. Richie couldn’t pass the opportunity to tease him.

"You think she's pretty?" Richie asked him, sarcasm present in his voice.

"Yeah, and you do too," his brother replied, already annoyed, trying to brush it off.

"I hadn't noticed, really," Richie said, smirking. He enjoyed seeing his brother angry so much, and he knew Y/N was his weak point.

"Come on, man. I've noticed you noticing. And she did too” Ethan said, frowning.

“She does? Maybe I should ask her out, then.” Richie said, hoping this would make Ethan fume.

However, the nerdy boy gave him a smile. “Do it.” he tried to suppress a smirk at his brother’s confused reaction.

“Hey, enjoyed the game?” Y/N asked. They had been so sumerged in their conversation they hadn’t noticed the match ended.

Ethan flashed her his sweet pretty smile, which she mirrored “You’re good, Y/N/N.”

“Thanks, Eth” if her cheeks hadn’t been already red from the heat and the exercise, Ethan would’ve noticed the effect his words had on her.

“Do you want water, gorgeous?” Richie asked, with a sly grin. Ethan clenched his jaw and Y/N tried not to make a disgusted face.

“Yes, but I’ll go get it” Y/N said walking to the kitchen before Richie could beat her. Ethan followed her, feeling Richie’s eyes on the back of his head. “Does he not get the hint? I have given no signs that I like him”

“I should probably warn you, he’s going to ask you out” Ethan told her, leaning against the counter and she poured water in a glass.

“Oh god, you know what? It’s fine, I’m just going to tell him he’s not the one I’m interested in” Y/N said.

Ethan stiffened “What do you mean by that? You’re interested in someone?” his chest contracted.

Y/N then realized what she had said. “Oh… well, yeah.”

The boy nodded, trying not to show how much it hurt “Are they from London?”

Y/N shook her head “No, he is from here.” she admitted.

“Oh… you met him at college?” he asked. Why was he asking? He was a fucking masochist.

“No… but he goes to our college”

“So that means you met him before you moved to London” Ethan deduced.

Y/N nodded “Waay before I moved. I have known him my whole life” she said. He’s got to figure it out now.

“I have no fricking idea” Ethan laughed. “I don’t remember you hanging out with someone who wasn’t Quinn or me.”

“Ethan are you serious?” Y/N groaned. Guess he really was oblivious. Ethan looked at her, very lost. “I’m talking about you, you idiot. Honestly, for someone that smart you can really be dumb sometimes.”

“Me? You like me?” Ethan pointed at himself in disbelief.

“I have liked you since we were fourteen, Eth. Never stopped liking you” Y/N smiled nervously. What was going to happen next? Rejection or reciprocation?

“Are you sure?” he asked in a low tone.

Y/N let out a giggle “Yes, Ethan, pretty sure I know my emotions. Do you know yours?”

“I win” Ethan said, making her frown, not understanding what he meant. “I have liked you since we were thirteen. So I won.”

The girl rolled her eyes, smile painted on her face as she walked closer to him and hugged him. “Well, guess the loser is the one who has to ask the question” Ethan raised his eyebrows in amusement, liking were this conversation was going. “Ethan, would you like to be my boyfriend?”

“I would love to be your boyfriend, Y/N” he replied. Y/N could feel his heartbeats through his shirt as his arms were wrapped around her lower back. “Can I kiss you, girlfriend?”

“Yes, you can, boyfriend” she closed her arms around his neck and brought him down to meet her lips. Mint got mixed with cherry, and their soft lips danced with each other in one perfect and very awaited kiss.

The slow and calm kiss turned into a rougher and wilder one. His hands went under her white tank top as hers messed with his soft curls. Ethan turned them around, so that she was now pressed against the counter. But soon, he lifted her up and set her on it. She opened her legs so he could step between them and deepened the kiss.

“You’re my best friend” Y/N whispered breathlessly against his lips.

Ethan smiled “You’re my best friend, too. I love you”

“I love you” she said back, before kissing him once again.

Quinn, Richie, Tara and Mindy entered the kitchen and stood still at the scene happening in front of them. The two teenagers were so engrossed in their lustful kiss that they didn’t notice them until Quinn yelled “Not in the counter, we use it to cook!”

“Kids nowadays have zero respect” Mindy shook her head.

“This is a family house!” Tara exclaimed. Richie just stood there completely dumbfounded, which made Ethan feel even more victorious.

“Oh, we have been waiting this for years, leave us alone” Y/N rolled her eyes, but got off the counter anyways. Ethan draped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“They’re cute, you have to give them that” Tara said to Quinn.

“Are you two official?” Quinn asked, now unable to hide her smile.

“Yes” they said in unison, smiling to each other.

[suffermaze]

play pretend | joseph quinn

summary: Stranger Things comes to its last season and Joseph is your co-star. It's the last scene of the day, you were doing fine until now. But it was a pretty intense moment and it's hard to keep focus when the boy's lips are close to your neck. 2k.

It was the last scene of the day. And you were pretty exhausted. Even though it was easy and actually fun to share the screen with Joseph, who turned everything lighter and enjoyable, all you wanted to do was go home and get some sleep. But you needed to hold on just a little bit more.

It was pretty intense, this last scene, and you needed to stay focused just a little more, but it started to get harder and harder due to your tiredness and Eddie characterization. At this point, he “came back to life” as Kaz, confirming all the fan theories and headcanons. That meant he was like some kind of vampire. Everytime he smiled you could see his fangs and scars covering his chest.

You couldn’t help thinking it was... hot. Like, so, so hot.

You needed to act scared, and thank god you were a really good actress, because you couldn’t think of anything else other than how stunning he was. Your eyes travelling through his whole body.

“Hey… you ok?” his raspy voice takes you out of your own thoughts, and only then you notice how long you've been staring at him with a stupid face.

“What? nothing.” you swallow hard, giggling out of nervousness, and he doesn't believe you, not even for a second “I’m just… trying to remember my part.”

“oh, don't worry, you're doing amazing darling.” he says with a warm smile and a soft voice that almost feels like it's hugging you, and all you can do is nod as you smile back, your cheeks getting warm too, not sure if he was just being nice, cause he was actually a gentleman, or if there was something… more.

You don't have much time to think deeply about it, though. Or saty anything back to him. Because the director gets back to his seat and shouts to everyone to get to their places.

You were ready to go on your own when Joseph takes your hand and guides you to your marks, and suddenly you get embarrassed of the camera, because you feel everyone was looking at the way your hands were intertwined. And he notices how you seemed away, that's why he squeezes your palm as an attempt to reassure you one more time, before you hear the directors voice's loudly again.

“And ACTION! Whenever you’re ready.” 

You take a deep breath and look into those big chocolate puppy eyes. And you feel safe. He’s waiting for you to be prepared, waiting for you to lead the scene, he wouldn't start until you said so, and you nod as a sign. 

It’s almost scary the way he turns so fast to something else. You knew he was good at his job, for real, but witnessing it so close was completely different. His eyes getting darker. You weren’t aware that was something actually real, that someone could actually do that kind of thing, and it seems so easy for him to do so.

Then it’s just easy to get along, to get into character and go with him, following his pace now, like you were someone else too. 

“Eddie? W-what are you doing?” Your voice cracks a little, and you take a step back, frightened. He looked just like your best friend but something was off. 

“Don’t call me that, princess. You know I’m not that freak.” He growls back at you, with a sick smirk on his lips.

A step closer to you, and even though your instincts beg for you to run, you feel frozen, paralyzed. He looks at you up and down, almost like he’s enjoying seeing you so afraid, so vulnerable. 

“That’s not funny Eddie, stop. Please.” You beg one more time, your eyes getting cloudy due the tears. 

“You know what? You’re starting to piss me off…” He’s close enough now, his breathe against your own, and he looks at you, at every detail of your face, every mole that draws your skin, and he hushs. “Too bad I have to do this to such a pretty, pretty girl…”

He caresses your cheek, tracing his fingers down to your neck and getting your hair out of the way. 

And for a second, his eyes slipper to yours and turn soft again, a glance of your sweet boy there once more, a shred of hope. 

“Eddie?” you ask one more time, agonizing, praying he could hear you.

“Run.” He says, with his last glance of consciousness, but it’s too late. 

His fingers dive into the waves of your hair and he holds tight, pulling it back so your neck gets more exposed. 

“Who... who a-are you?” You don’t have any strength to scream or try to escape. You’re horrified, your eyes bursting desperate tears. He smiles, his fangs actually shining when the light hits them, and he dives his teeth to your skin.

And you giggle. 

Automatically flinching, you try to hide your neck, and it takes a second for you to notice what just happened. Your eyes get wide open and your cheeks burst into flames.

“CUT! What the heck was that?” You hear the scream, and Joseph lays his forehead on your shoulder as you cover your mouth out of embarrassment. You were so tired you couldn’t control yourself as his touch tickled your skin. And now your swearing every bad word you could think of inside your head, wanting to desapear to the ground.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” you repeated that over and over but when you hear Joseph chuckle, all you can do is laugh too. 

“You got to be kidding me…” he shushes, nodding as he raises his eyebrows and looks at you with some joy on his face. He thought it was cute, because, to be honest, what could you do?

“I’m extremely sorry. I… I don’t know what happened to me… can we… can we take five? Please?” 

You don’t even wait for a confirmation and just run to your dressing room, praying that you could turn invisible for a moment.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” you repeat uninterruptedly, taking deep breaths and opening your restroom sink, throwing some water to your face with the hope that could wake you up and get you to your senses again. And it seems to be working until you hear the knock at your door. 

“I’m almost done, give me just a sec!” You shout through the room, looking your reflex at the mirror as you recompose yourself, but the knock doesn’t go away, and this time it comes accompanied with a sweet voice.

“It’s me, can I come inside?” he asks, seeming a little worried, and you just couldn't say no to him, so you shush a “yes” almost inaudible and he opens the door slowly, entering the room, and immediately closing it behind him. 

It takes a sec to any of you to say something. He just stares at you, concerned.

“… you ok?” his voice is so warm that it feels like a cloud envolves your body. Even though you weren't actually ok, he makes you feel better just by saying that.

“Oh, yes, it’s just… I can’t believe myself, we really had it and I ruined it all…” you sigh, disappointed, and pinch the bridge of your nose with your two fingers.

“Hey, hey! Don’t say that. everyone is tired and we understand... you were doing amazing and, you know, we can shoot it over and over again… you don’t have any idea of how many bloopers of me we’re gonna have to watch after the season releases” he laughs, leaning in your direction and looking at you with those big chocolate orbes. You know he’s only saying this to reassure you, to make you feel better, and it works. Actually, he didn’t even need to say anything to make you feel better, but he could always manage to do more.

You felt like you could run away and jump over the highest cliff, because he would catch you, you would be safe. It’s the first time someone made you feel like this in your entire life. You always knew there was something special about that boy. 

And the way he was looking at you now, getting closer and closer, just to caress your hair and make you relax, was really… really special… 

“It’s ok, really…” he says one more time, and you smile softly, starting to believe him. “I have an idea… we could practice, you know, rehearse that scene so you’ll be prepared to shoot it. what do you think?” For a moment, just a second, he seems shy, vulnerable, and then you are finally sure of what that meant. The way he said it faltering, and looked at you with those big wondering eyes.

All those months shooting together, getting to know each other. The way he looked at you, without hesitation, without looking away not even a single time. And the way he smiled when you always looked back. How he was always close, always joking with you, just to make you laugh, just so he could see your smile.

“yeah, that’s a… that’s a pretty good idea.” you chuckle shyly too, your face heating up, the butterflies dancing inside you. Because you felt the same way.

He smiles, wide open, his face almost shining, and he gets even closer, getting his hand to your neck again, now with a really soft touch, making you shiver, feeling so electric that it seemed like a lightning had just hit you within his skin, through his fingertips.

“Whenever you’re ready.” he jokes, trying the best imitation he could do of the director’s voice, and you roll your eyes at his stupidity. you know he was trying to make you relax, but the way every inch of your body is desiring him make it almost ache. 

“Eddie?” you say, your voice sounding a little raspy and aerated because you couldn’t breathe normally, your eyes looking at his under your lashes.

“Don’t run.” Joseph answers, and he smiles at you, his orbes pulling you to him like magnets.

You can’t even say your line back, you just couldn’t breathe properly to your voice to come out. You feel his body getting closer, his face getting closer and closer to yours, the almost nonexistent between you two evaporating.

You stare at him for how long you could, analyzing every single detail that made him himself, just so you could mark the way he was looking at you forever in your head until his lips get to your neck with a gentle kiss. It’s a shock, and you flinch a bit, just because it confirms to you this is real.

You don’t want to laugh this time. On the contrary, you let out a tiny gasp and close your eyes, feeling his warm skin touching yours. His lips tracing its way up your neck, to your jaw, and he stops, just so he could stare at you again, cause he wanted to fix this moment in his mind too.

He holds your face, so carefully you feel you were made of porcelain. Like someone holding the most beautiful flower to ever exist, too afraid to damage its fragile petals. And he kisses you, finally. His lips fit yours so perfectly it almost feels surreal, because it felt like you were designed for each other, like you couldn’t belong to anybody else. It is so soft, the perfect texture, pressure, warmth… Everything was just… perfect. 

You’ve waited for this for so long, and you feel so light, almost flying. It sounds cliche, but you’re pretty sure you could hear the fireworks, the ones that you feel exploding inside your chest, like they were actually around you, almost too close… too real…

“Guys? are you there? we need to keep recording!” you hear a muffled voice behind the door, and someone knocking again and again, louder and louder. “guys?”

It takes you two out of that trance, back to reality, and you look into each other’s eyes with such joy you could see the sparkles.

Joseph laughs through the kiss, and hides his face into your neck again. When he looks at you, his face is red like a tomato, and it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, making you giggle as you bite your lower lip, attempting to hide your smile. 

“We’re coming!” You answer, looking away when you start to blush, trying to recompose yourself as you fix your hair and your clothes, even though they remained intact.

“We can do it.” He says, holding your chin with his thumb and making you look at him, raising his eyebrows to emphasize his words. “You can do it. And I’ll be with you the whole time.”

You nod, holding his hand and squeezing it a little, just to make sure that was real, that it actually happened. 

And you knew, no matter what, from that day on, he would be with you the whole time. 

hello! this is my first time writing in another language and posting something here, so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes and I hope you guys understand... anyway, it would be awesome to hear your opnions and I really hope you've enjoyed it!! <3

[brainddeadd]

Secret Love Song

Nico Hischier x Hughes!sister reader

Jack Hughes x sister!reader, Quinn Hughes x sister!reader, Luke Hughes x sister!reader, Trevor Zegras x platonic!reader, Jayden Williamson x ex!reader (OC)

series masterlist

ynhughes: this album has been a long time in the making. thank you for being so patient.

my latest single "secret love song" is out now 😘

liked by jackhughes, nicohischier, and others

user: oh my god

trevorzegras: WHOOOOHOOOOOOOO FINALLY ITS OUT AND I CAN TALK ABOUT IT

user2: WSHO IS GTHIS ABOUT WOJMAN

user3: nico probably user4: ew he could do so much better user5: theres no proof user6: trevor

jackhughes: congratulations bub, im so proud of you

_quinnhughes: excuse me while i kill someone real quick

_quinnhughes: seriously tho, i love it squirt

_quinnhughes: but actually where is he at

trevorzegras: i know where he is _quinnhughes: where trevorzegras: now why would i tell you that

lhughes_06: THATS MY BIG SISTER GO BIG SISTER

nicohischier: congratulations yn, the song is amazing

ynhughes: thank you for all of the love and support for my new single "secret love song"

'red' will be yours on the 4th of January, 2024 😘

liked by nicohischier, lhughes_06, and others

user: A LOVE SONG ALBUM ON NICO'S BIRTHDAY OH MY GOD

user2: OH SHES INSANE

nicohischier: that's a damn good birthday present

ynhughes: oh hush, youre getting a present nicohischier: no no, the album is my gift

jackhughes: i- where are your clothes in that first image

jackhughes: im calling mom

_quinnhughes: i cant wait for everyone to hear this

trevorzegras: i cant wait to scream my favourite song in the car

[icallhimjoey]

Lost & Found

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader    

Summary: You take a little break, a week away to somewhere warm to relax and calm your senses. So does Joe – same flight, same hotel, same travel plans and, worst of all, same suitcase. What was meant to be a lovely trip to the sun starts off on the wrong foot when you find expensive designer outfits belonging to a man in what you thought was your suitcase.    

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, lots of swearing, we get a little spicy but nothing too bad, 18+ just in case though!    

Author’s note: so, i wrote half of this severely sleep-deprived and half of this whilst feeling unwell, so... i don't know man, i hope that i tied it all together somewhat coherent for you all and that you enjoy! comments, likes, messages, reblogs etc. all highly appreciated, thanks!

Wordcount: 4.4K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

The door fell into its lock behind you and the eye-contact was not something you wanted to be the first to break.

Nothing happened for a second. You just stood close in your silent hotel room and looked at each other. You tried to focus on breathing at a normal pace which seemed, no, was an impossible task.

Had you ever really noticed what Joe’s eyes looked like? 

You had.

But like this? 

Yea, you had, actually.

Hey, fuck you, don’t judge. See them up close first before calling someone crazy.

You had noticed his eyes. You’d noticed lots of things about him, but his eyes? There was something about his fucking eyes and he was looking back at you now, his moving between yours, and oh my God, how long were you just going to stare directly into each other’s eyes like this?

It was nearing uncomfortable when suddenly you saw his eyes shoot down, past your lips, down your body, and then back up.

“Do you…” Joe started, voice low and soft, but he didn’t finish the sentence. You tried guessing what it could have been, what he was about to ask, but you couldn’t think straight.

Not with Joe so close and the energy all thick and crackly.

Were you even breathing at all at this point?

Seconds passed, but it felt like minutes did when you suddenly felt how your whole body swayed forward. Nearly into him. So very nearly.

You swallowed, and then so did Joe, and why the fuck was no one doing anything?

His eyes moved again, but past you now. Over your shoulder. And then he reached. Leant closer to you as he reached an arm behind and opened the door to the bathroom. It made you step back a little, which was just right, because that was where Joe wanted you. The faint excuse of sand everywhere, of barely sunburnt pulling skin, of salty seawater that left your legs somewhat sticky, all enough to pull you into the bathroom for a shower.

No words were shared at all when you stepped inside. You watched as Joe turned the shower on, knew how it worked because his hotel room had the exact same one, and when Joe started undressing, you followed without question.

It wasn’t weird.

You tried to think of reasons of why it wasn’t weird, but you couldn’t come up with anything quick enough.

You decided that maybe you were just weird and the situation was maybe sort of the same amount of weird for everything to feel normal.

Well. Semi-normal, at least.

It was fine.

You were undressing in your bathroom and this time Joe was in the room with you instead of just outside, sat on a chair, listening carefully to make sure you didn’t collapse.

Steam started filling up the room when you stepped out of your bikini bottoms and for a second you forgot that this was likely not going to be an actual shower shower, but more just a sexy excuse to touch each other all over.

Just like you’d done the day before when Joe had been sat on a chair outside the bathroom door, you collected your bikini to rinse out in the shower.

Resourceful type of shit. Like your mother had taught you.

This time however, it wasn’t just your two-piece that you picked up off the floor; you also found Joe’s swimming shorts.

You didn’t realise that maybe this was a little strange when you stepped into the hot stream with all of it in hand and heard Joe huff in silent laughter.

“It’s just, I always, you know... to get them clean,” you said, holding all of it under the water, focussing on getting every inch of every item wet. It was nice to have a job to direct your focus, something to keep your hands and eyes busy and not, you know, with the naked man who was stood right behind you.

Your shoulders were the first thing two cold, only cold because the water was hot, large hands touched of you.

For a second you thought he was going to stop you like he would stop you from biting at your fingernails, but instead, his hands trailed up a bit until they touched your neck and then went down your back a little to the spots where he’d paid close attention to sore muscles the day before.

Pressing both thumbs into the flesh there worked like a reset button, it was almost embarrassing how fast your body folded.

Your head fell forward, and your arms dropped down. You went as lax as you could standing up still, and it got another soft chuckle from Joe.

Next thing you knew, the swimming garments were taken from your hands and hung over the glass shower screen before hands found your shoulders again. Before strong fingers pushed and kneaded the sore spots that needed it so.

Hot water.

Naked skin.

Hands doing exactly what you wanted them to.

Shit.

Yea, you'd been after intimacy, but you kind of expected that whatever you'd been after wouldn’t made you... oh, you know, feel things.

Just taking deep breaths wasn't enough to push down whatever was trying to make its way out of you.

It was confusing and silly - you wouldn't even let yourself come close to this on your own, by yourself, but now, here, completely in the nude with another person in the shower with you, this was the right time for emotions to let themselves be known?

No.

Not on your watch.

You scrunched up your forehead as much as it was willing to wrinkle from all sides, eyebrows doing the most, because if you didn’t, your lip would wobble, mouth showing all the emotions that resided on the inside. You didn’t even think they were real emotions to begin with - you were just tired. But a big pout and a quivering chin were things you couldn’t control, were things that would just do whatever by themselves and there was no stopping them. 

Couldn’t have that, could you?

So you redirected it to the top-half of your face. Sure, it made tears spill faster, but somehow that felt fine. There was water there already anyway, the shower a perfect coverup for them. You’d rather it be this. This was prettier and felt controlled, easier to hide.

It wasn’t, though.

It took no time for you to be fucking shaking all over.

Trying to control the shaking only made it worse. And it got worse fast. Especially when you turned and you saw how Joe reacted to what he saw. Copied it. Knitted his eyebrows together like yours were and created a whole crumply mess on his face and, had you mentioned his eyes already?

You had.

Fucking stunning. Absolutely beautiful.

They weren’t helping.

This was meant to be a sexy shower for fuck’s sake.

If you could just. 

Relax.

Have a drink.

Ignore whatever stirred inside.

That’d be perfect.

You took a few deep breaths through flared nostrils that you let out through your mouth and, there you went. It worked a little. Forehead stayed scrunched, just in case, but you felt yourself relax a little. Felt heavy shit ebb away a little.

“This is why, you know that, right?” 

The hurt turned into confusion. Was only a minor change.

“If you’re going to keep pushing it down, it’ll affect you physically,” 

You snorted. Hid the way you knew he was right with a laugh. Tried to turn it into jokes.

“Okay, doctor,” 

But Joe didn’t laugh. Just swiped your hair from the front of your shoulders to your back before using large palms to push it back from your face too.

“What’s plaguing you?” He spoke so softly, you barely heard it over the clatter of shower water that hit the tiles in streams from both your elbows. 

“I’m fine, it’s just… it’s just work,” 

Joe didn’t respond to your answer at all. Just kept wiping hands near your hairline, in turn smoothing out all the lines of worry you’d etched in there. It made you grab onto his wrists to stop him. 

He did stop, but didn’t move, and then you just stood like that a second with your forehead all smooth and you had to close your eyes because the shower water was running directly into them.

The fact that joe was staring down into your soul went ignored because it was just easier if you didn’t think about being so seen.

“I don’t…” you started, stupid lip wobbling once more because Joe’s hands prevented you from redirecting everything, “I don’t want to cry.” 

“If you’ve got to cry, you’ve got to cry.” 

“I’m just, I’m tired and that fucks with everything, doesn’t it?” 

You kept thinking there was going to be a moment where Joe would laugh. Chuckle or softly snicker or even exhale a little louder than usual, but he never did.

Just stayed silent.

Watched what your face did and rubbed a thumb across where he saw you try to frown.

“What if I don’t stop?” 

“Crying?”

“You didn’t come up here to have me cry in the shower for ages,” you laughed at yourself and then groaned loudly, all frustrated. “God, you must think I’m so fucking weird,”

Joe reached and had a squint at the tiny cursive letters of whatever small tube he picked up.

Shampoo.

Nice.

He flicked it open with his thumb and said, “Well, in my defence,” which made you laugh. “I never thought that the girl I met wearing my clothes wasn’t at least a little strange,”

He was right. You hadn’t once tried to sell to Joe that you were normal. Which was actually sort of perfect. Made you feel less bad about your laughter turning into a weird choked sob when Joe got started on washing your hair.

Made you feel less bad when you apologised, and Joe held your whole head, wide hands splayed fingers from your jaw back to the base of your skull, and forced eye-contact when he said to stop apologising already.

Made you feel less bad when you, through teary laughter, commented on the lack of sex appeal you'd dragged into the shower, that hadn’t been the intention at all, and Joe just said, “We got time.”

Made you feel less bad when, after Joe turned the shower off, all you wanted to do was curl into the white fluffy dressing gown and flop down onto the bed, ready to pass out.

Because you hadn’t lied. You were tired.

Joe let you nap there after watching you run your hands over the covers, murmuring something about clean sheet day before you drifted off.

And, listen.

Yea, Joe hadn’t expected for any of this week to go the way it had gone so far. He’d intended for the trip to be a little break from work, to simply get his mind off of everything going on at home by sleeping in, and by reading books, and by swimming slow laps in the hotel pool for however long he wanted.

Well.

He’d barely even touched the book he’d brought, hadn’t swam a single lap in the hotel pool but! But! Had this... had all of this not taken his mind off of everything?

It had.

Joe hadn’t thought of work, of his schedule, of auditions and of lines he had to learn - he hadn’t thought of any of that once.

And he got to help someone.

Well, not just someone.

You.

He got to make you laugh, got to make you eat, got to make you relax. Got to hold you as you slept. Got to touch you in the shower. Not... not in all the ways he’d wanted to. Yet. But he’d been forward about it. Said there was time still. Which, there was. He’d only met you three days ago, which, was that right? Joe had to count using his fingers to check, because didn’t that feel like weeks ago already?

And sure, you kept saying sorry for being a burden, kept telling him he was free to go whenever, you didn’t want to ruin his trip, you know?

But how was he going to tell you that, actually, this was exactly right for him right now? Have his focus be on someone else entirely instead of on himself for a second?

And the answers were so easy too, weren’t they? All basic shit.

You woke up about an hour later with your feet in Joe's lap, left foot in his hands, slowly kneading as he watched TV.

You looked up, stirred a little, felt a little dazed. Took you a second to realise where you were. Who was there with you. Who was holding your foot.

“Hey,” Joe smiled lazily at you, and for a second, he thought maybe this was too much. Maybe he’d overstepped. You’d fallen asleep in your bed, naked body wrapped up in fluffy white, and Joe’d just sat down next to you. Turned on the TV, volume all the way down, like he was in his own hotel room, and when you started twisting and turning a little, he’d taken hold of your feet. Hoped that his grip would ground you in some way.

He thought it had done, because for the rest of your nap you’d barely moved at all.

For about ten minutes, your feet had just laid there. On his lap. You had nice feet, Joe thought, you know, as far as feet went. Nice legs too. Bruised a bunch, sure. Scraped from where you’d fallen, kind of similar to your face, but nice none the less. Eyes traveled up more, and that’s when Joe saw.

He tried not to see. Actively tried his bestest best not to look.

You’d cried over things you didn’t know how to explain and maybe... maybe Joe should’ve left after. Or, at least, maybe Joe shouldn’t have sat down and dragged your feet onto his lap because now, one wrong move and you'd flash your full vagina for the whole room to see.

Joe could already sort of see it now anyway, but he was actively not looking and massaged a foot to keep himself busy.

Don't look, man.

Stop.

Stop looking.

It took you ages to slowly stir awake again. And what a way to wake up. What a view to wake up to.

Joe was sat against the headboard, just in his T-shirt and the remnants of a towel that had been tied around his waist before he’d sat down.

Slow and sleepy, you sat up, and it made Joe try to protect your modesty by going, “Oh, your… the dressing gown– you, it’s ridden up, it’s–”

It was of no use, because you paid your dressing gown no mind, no matter how much of you got exposed. It was time for bits being exposed, you thought.

You moved from sitting up onto your knees, feet sliding from Joe’s lap as you did, your hair all sleep-messy and eyes barely open.

“What are you…?” Joe asked softly, but didn’t finish his question because he knew exactly what you were doing as you inched closer, hands finding his shoulders to hold as your knees dented the mattress either side of him. You lowered yourself onto his lap, your warmth sinking into his, and you grinned. Hummed in satisfaction. There was plenty of fabric in between the two of you – the sheets, Joe’s towel, your dressing gown – but it was all easily removed, one simple swipe away from connecting skin to skin.

“Hi,” Joe softly whispered as you leant closer, and he seemed unsure on if he should sit up a little or not, his hands unsure of if he should touch you a little or not.

Was sort of endearing.

Man had taken a whole shower with you and now didn't know if it was all right to touch you.

So, you helped. Took hold of his hands and guided them to your waist, more towards your back, and when you leant down enough for Joe to tip his chin up and kiss you, his arms did exactly what you wanted them to do as they tightly wrapped around.

Yes.

Exactly.

This was exactly right.

You’d cried, you’d slept, you’d gotten your hair washed and you’d gotten your feet rubbed and now, you wanted to kiss the boy.

And kiss the boy you did.

Well. You kissed him for maybe three seconds. After that, the boy was kissing you.

The dressing gown was tied loosely enough for it to come undone when Joe grabbed two fistfuls of fabric at your back and had Joe not looked at your flesh for long enough now?

The feel of the bare skin of your chest was enough to quickly lose his T-shirt.

The feel of his mouth on your neck was enough to fight your way out of the dressing gown entirely.

You’d never had sex quite like it.

Quite so slow. Quite so loving and so tender, and you know you couldn't stop thinking about his eyes, but maybe Joe had to stop making so much eye-contact if he didn't want you thinking of them all the time, you know?

And Joe was just helping, wasn’t he?

Get your mind empty.

Undo you of stresses that had no right squatting in your muscles like that.

Make you feel good, the way he knew how.

Just helping.

And it did help.

Joe helped when he had almost agonisingly slow sex with you in your hotel room.

Joe helped when after, he suggested going down to his hotel room to enjoy room service in his bed, because hadn’t you said something about clean sheet day earlier?

Joe helped when he let you choose his outfit for the next day and laughed at how you kept scrunching your nose at the selection of clothing items he'd brought. Honestly, what the fuck had he been thinking?

Helped when he just smiled and shrugged and wore whatever you’d laid out for him.

Helped when he told the host downstairs at the restaurant that your seperate reservations for one were to be merged into reservations for two because you’d be having the rest of your meals together now.

Helped when he made sure you had water after having a fruity cocktail by the pool which he made you sip before helping you into the freezing water that hurt your bones, it was so cold.

Helped when he just let you hang onto him in there, arms around his neck and legs around his waist, as he waded through the water for a bit, sun on his back and bright on your face.

Helped when he searched for your wrist again in the night and felt for your pulse, and you'd gone, “You know I’m not— you don’t need to,” and Joe’d quietly replied, “No I know,” before adding, “Is just nice.”. 

Helped when he let you wear one of his jackets once more when you went for drinks up at the rooftop on your last night there and wouldn’t stop commenting on how good it looked on you on the back-end of soft sighs.

You knew just this one week away wouldn’t fix all the things wrong in your life. Knew they’d just be waiting for you when you’d get back home. But, man, spending half this trip with Joe had made you temporarily forget about a lot of the bullshit, and wasn’t that why your boss had sent you away in the first place?

Joe had helped.

The skin around your fingers had started healing enough for it to no longer look like you dipped the tips of them into acid on the reg.

Joe had helped you beyond belief.

And so when the day arrived on which you both would be going back home, an unsaid solemnity hung in the air that the both of you tried your very best to ignore.

It was okay.

You were taking the same flight home, so your time together wasn’t over when you checked out of the hotel. And you’d exchanged numbers, said you’d both be busy the second you'd set foot back in London, but you’d keep in touch. It was a casual agreement of which you knew that potentially, it’d never actually happen.

Just a polite nicety, because what kind of rude person wouldn’t say something like that after the week the two of you had had?

But you weren’t dense.

When you arrived at the airport, you had a weird sort of more heartfelt goodbye moment in the back of your shared taxi. Where there were no other people to ogle and you didn’t feel so weird because, you really weren’t anything together, the two of you, and saying goodbye at airports was an activity strictly set aside for couples, wasn’t it?

Before you moved to get out of the backseat, Joe’d knocked your knee with his to get your attention. The look in his eyes had made you use both arms in a hug that grew tighter and lasted longer than you expected it would have. Then just a peck to your cheek, followed by a quick one to your mouth and a smile.

You didn’t sit remotely close to each other on the plane, couldn’t even see each other from where you were both sat. You kind of handled it like a big girl and told yourself this was just the transition back into the real world where you didn’t know each other at all.

Your week together could just be that. Your week together. Full stop.

It took you the whole flight back to convince yourself you were okay with that.

Joe could just exist as the bits of arm and leg in the corners of pictures of cocktails and nice meals in your camera roll.

That was it.

The week was over and done and Joe was part of your past now.

Except he fucking wasn’t, was he?

You’d forgotten there was a whole airport you needed to get out of before you'd actually part ways, and you only realised that Joe would still be in your vicinity when you looked up from your phone at the baggage claim carousel and looked him right in the eye. He was stood on the other side, the very end of the round all the checked luggage made before it’d disappear and loop back again.

You couldn’t help a smile. This is where you fucked up a week ago. At the baggage claim. You’d grabbed Joe’s suitcase and he’d grabbed yours and now, here you were. Second try. Were going to get it right this time.

Joe returned your smile and it was cute. He grew bashful and looked at his feet before biting into his lip and turning himself back into waiting-man-by-baggage-carousel, face serious and a little tired from the flight. He looked just like the business man you thought he was before you’d even met him. All stern, all posh, looking out for his suitcase, just like you were looking out for yours.

It took a second for you to spot your suitcase.

When you did, your body immediately jolted into action, but a loud clearing of someone's throat stopped you.

Joe.

You looked over and saw him look directly at you, eyebrows raised slightly, slowly shaking his head no.

Confusion.

What?

But... you listened.

Let your own suitcase pass you by, and you saw something change in Joe's expression. Something a little victorious. Something a little too glad, which he tried to hide, about you not just taking what was yours and leaving the area with it.

You watched as your suitcase looped around and... no fucking way. He wouldn't. He fucking wouldn't.

Except he would.

And then, he did.

Joe took your suitcase from the rubber belt and put it down beside him. Gave you a shit eating grin when he extended the telescopic handle with loud clicks and then just... walked off with it.

Was that his? Had you just made the same dumb mistake and had you nearly reached for Joe’s suitcase again?

You looked, saw the other suitcase come your way and were quick to take it. Checked it.

No.

This one wasn’t yours. This was Joe’s.

That little shit.

Your week together wasn’t just going to be your week together, and Joe had to make sure of it. He went about it a little drastically, sure, but in his defence, when he’d thought up the idea of taking your suitcase home instead of his own, part of the plan wasn’t that you’d actually see him do it.

You were meant to just find Joe’s suitcase and not see that it wasn’t yours until you’d get home.

Maybe this was better though.

Maybe this said, “You’re mine.” more.

Maybe this said, “You were mine the moment I saw you dressed in my clothes.” more.

Something possessive and greedy about all of it, but Joe didn’t care.

He was just helping.

And he truly had helped you!

Helped in all the ways he knew how.

Just now was the time for Joe to help himself. And so he did. Joe helped himself when he signaled for you to leave your suitcase be. Helped himself when he smirked across the carousel and turned on his heel, your suitcase rolling behind him. Helped himself when he got into a taxi and waited until it got onto the road before he texted,

“Your suitcase”

Referring back to the first words you'd said to him on that weird day at the airport.

You received the message just as you stepped out of the airport yourself and couldn’t help the way you wanted to squeeze Joe’s face in both your hands, really dig your non-existent finger nails into his cheeks because he was being such an idiot. You didn't know if you wanted to scold him or tell him you loved him for the cheesiest fucking thing you'd ever see someone do.

You knew the perfect reply though.

Joe eagerly awaited your message, was hoping he was going to get what he wanted and, yes, fuck fucking yes, his grin stretched from ear to ear when he did.

“Your jacket” the end

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frogers, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @notverywise, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella

taglist currently full, sorry

[aliaology]

hi!! it’s me again😁😁

could you please do a jack social media au post if you have the time?? the fc would be rachel zegler ( i’m SO in my tbosas era if you can’t tell) and where the movie just came out people are stalking her insta, and they always see this man in her posts but they don’t know who it is because she never posts his face. and then jack sorta hints at a line in tbosas in his insta caption where he’s soft launching her. AND then they hard launch and people find out that they’ve been dating since 2019-2020 (so since she was 17-18)(she’s 22 now)

and if you could use a picture of her in her maria dress from when she was in west side story that would be great!! (it just even more cements that they’ve been dating since that time period) IM SO SORRY THAT THIS WAS SO LONG😧😧 or like if you need to make this multiple parts that’s okay!! or if you can do it either that’s okay too!!

erm ofc babe anything for u!! i have yet to watch tbosas but woot woot!

for the dress part, i did a picture of her holding the book w her on it.. just to fit the ig more ig idk!!

ynusername

liked by user, user, _quinnhughes and 716,727 others

ynusername i really like nature, a lot 🌳

comments

user WHO IS HE

user NOOOOO HER AND TOM NOOOOO

user uhm… who!

user why did quinn hughes and ellen like this

yourbff my pretty babe 🤍

ynusername all u cutie pie ⭐️

user WHO IS THIS MAN AND WHY IS HE ALWAYS IN HER POSTS.

user istg i can never have a time to shine

user uhm when is it MY TURN?

ynusername 11/23/2019

liked by jackhughes, user, user, and 587,827 others

ynusername if i was your boyfriend, id never let you go 🎶

comments

user HOLY FUCK

user no fucking way

user THEY WERE TOGETHER FOR THIS LONG?

user IM NEVER GETTING A CHANCE

yourbff this so unfair, tell him i want u back

ynusername u both can have me pooks

user holy…

user NOOOOOOO

jackhughes

liked by ynusername, user, elblue06, and 816,827 others

jackhughes you’re mine and I’m yours. its written in the stars

comments

user ITS BEEN HIM?

user NO FUCKING WAYYYYY

user ur kidding

user NO WHAT NOO NO NO NO ILL NEVER GET MY CHANCE WITH HER

user ew

_quinnhughes finally 😒

jackhughes haters get blocked 🤬

user WHATTTT

ynusername omg whos that cute guy in those two pics??

jackhughes idk but that girl in those looks pretty fine…

user THIS IS SO

user oh my god

trevorzegras took him long enough

jackhughes let’s talk about dixie

user lawd..

YOU CANT YOU CANT CATCH ME NOW

[monstrous-femme]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love 💞

From newest to oldest, and unfortunately leaving out many stories I adore but that aren't as sophisticated writing-wise because I've grown as a writer since then.

like a damaged nerve, like a dark bird Stranger Things | Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham/Nancy Wheeler | 87k

In 1993, Nancy falls asleep on Barb's grave and wakes up in 1985. From there, she finds herself completely unstuck in time. It's also a love story.

Novel-length time travel fic about grief, recursive, Sisyphean vibes, also I think the longest fic I've written in any fandom.

In Her Hips, There's Revolution Stranger Things | Eddie Munson & Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler | 70.5K

Finally, she's able to get the number in right. The ring is sharp against her ear. Pick the fuck up, she thinks, and someone must be listening, because the ringing stops "All right, Harrington, what's on this week's nightmare menu? And don't tell me the one about drowning in your pool again, man, we all know that's rich kid--" "It's Nancy." A long pause, then a laugh. "Wheeler? To what do I owe this late-night honor?" "I, um." Nancy's tongue feels stuck to the roof of her mouth, like bare skin on upholstery. "I was wondering if you've got a couch I can crash on?"

This fic exists because I read a punk!Steve fic and in it Nancy was not into the punk scene and I was like. But what if she was, though. Riot grrl Nancy? Riot grrl Nancy. Complete with Ronance and Nancy and Eddie as best friends. Described by readers as "Jane Austen with more alleyway head." One of my only fics to get an & pairing and not just a / pairing, because the friendship really is that central.

objects in the mirror (are closer than they appear) Stranger Things | Joyce Byers/Karen Wheeler | 5.3K

"Which do you think you're having?" she asks, pushing herself back to the land of the ordinary. "Lonnie wants a boy," Joyce says. "Your husband?" Joyce snorts. "If you can call him that." There's something nice about how that sounds, like the idea that just because you said your vows in front of God and your whole family doesn't mean you have to call the man your husband. Karen smiles. "You know what?" she says. "Give me a cigarette after all." The smile Joyce gives her back is like a secret between friends. "My kind of girl," she says, fishing into her purse, and when Karen takes the cigarette between her lips, Joyce lights it for her.

This fic was for Women's Wrongs day of Stranger Things Femslash week, and I was so proud of the strange fucked-up short story vibes I managed to get here. Joyce and Karen spousal murder 5ever.

pretty girls with bloodstained teeth The Magicians | Margo Hanson/Alice Quinn | 4k

“You’re angry,” Alice says. Margo opens her eye to see that the smile on Alice’s face matches the one in her voice. “And you’re right to be.” “If I’m angry, it’s because there’s a monster who seems to show up everywhere I go.” Alice lifts a finger and runs it along Margo’s cheek, leaving a trail of ice crystals down its path. “Oh, Margo,” she says, sugar in her voice. “You’ve never been as good a liar as you think you are.”

This was my OG monster!girls story, based on the idea that Alice stays a niffin and seduces Margo to the dark side. It was so fun to write that it actual inspired the original novel I wrote and currently have on submission.

Chimera The Magicians | Alice Quinn Character Study | 1k

She is part girl, part monster, and moving forward is a statistical improbability.

In defense of one of my favorite unlikeable female characters.

[silvervioletvalentine]

🦋Whenever , Wherever, we’re meant to be together! Part 2! 🦋

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x OC Spanish popstar!Lina Valentina.

Word count : 10k

Summary: in which its a year later and it’s time for him to meet lina’s parents, including her over protective father Carlos.

A/N : another Quinn oneshot. Sorry dudes , I promise I’m still gonna write for f1 drivers but I’m on a hockey obsession again at the moment so..yeah. Sorry (not sorry) but you’ll have to put up with a couple more Quinn ones then I’ll get back to it. Promise xoxo

Lina could only smirk in slight amusement to herself as she got ready for the day, trying to focus on rubbing her skincare creams and lotions onto her skin when she noticed Quinn hovering by the bathroom door, leaning against the frame with a small pout on his face as he watched her , quietly.

Still, he didn't say anything . Just watching her pull out a brush as she pulled her hair back into a sleek braid for their plane ride back home.

Sighing loudly as she finally acknowledged him, meeting his gaze in the mirror in front of her with a small smile tugging at her mouth .

"I know I'm beautiful Q but you're drilling holes into my face. Get a camera." She teased him, chuckling as she fondly watched as his cheeks immediately went a dark pink at being caught out, having thought that he was being subtle in his staring.

He was not. He never was. Not when it came to Lina.

It filled her chest with butterflies to know that even a year on, she still managed to have such a schoolgirl effect on him. She only fell in love with him more and more everyday , each nervous laugh, each wandering gaze , each shy smile and sweet embrace , the way he was unable to go too long without touching her in some sort of way...all of it only endeared him to her further.

He was the one. There was no doubt about it.

She had already started daydreaming about their future wedding , wondering if she could somehow convince Quinn to wear a different suit that the same one he always wore to conferences and such . She imagained him in a cool grey, fitted suit with a slight unbuttoned white shirt underneath and sighed dreamily , feeling dazed just at the thought of him.

That's my man. She smiled , pleased, as she looked back up to her reflection just in time to see Quinn averting his eyes back from his feet , where they had fell to shyly at her teasing comment.

"Does your dad own any weapons babe?" He asked her worriedly , having spent the past few days in a constant loop of panic and stomach aches , ever since it was revealed to him that he would be coming home to Madrid with her to finally meet her parents.

Lina had tried putting it off for him for long enough now , but it had been a year of being together and even moving in together in her apartment , her mother was getting antsy with her the longer she refused to let them meet her new boyfriend.

He was The first serious guy she had gotten with since the whole baby daddy fiasco. So it was only warranted that they would be anxious and impatient about meeting Quinn, especially since she spoke so highly about him, always casually dropping his name into any conversation around her . It just came naturally to her now. It drove people around her mad sometimes..

Like when her friend told her about a cute linen dress that she thought Lina would look pretty in, Lina had beamed and replied "it looks so cute! Oh my god, they do a men's selection! Q would look so cute in white linens . Actually he would look good in all the colours . I'm gonna get them all. Then me and Quinn can match!" She had gushed before rushing off back into the store to purchase both her and Quinn matching sets of clothes , her friend left blinking at where she had just been stood in disbelief.

It usually went something like that now. But oh well. It wasn’t a crime to love her boyfriend so much that everything came back to him, was it?

He was apart of her world now, of course she was going to mention him any chance she got. She thought that Quinn was amazing , and she wanted everybody else to know that too.

'You'll really like this pasta!' She would reply at lunch with friends "I would as well but it's too spicy for Quinn. Let's make two but add more cheese for mi amor."

She had gone completely soft for him, her usual 'guys ain't shit, I want nothing to do with them. I'm going to become a nun before I fall in love again' attitude , was now nowhere to be seen.

But looking at Quinn's worried eyes , seeing him biting his nails with anxiety had her whole demeanour softening.

Yeah. He was the one. He had her heart. He could keep it forever. She knew that she would be holding onto his tenderly forever too.

She reached back, eyes still down to the vanity table as she looked through which skincare syrum she wanted to use that morning, gently pulling his hand away from his Mouth before he could make his nail beds bleed again .

"He does not." She simply replied, amused by how scared Quinn was to meet her parents , considering the fact that her mother had taken to calling and messaging Quinn almost everyday to make sure that he was okay.

She would love to see his reaction if her father called him up out of the blue like that, it would be hilarious no doubt. The first time her mother had demanded Lina to give her her new boyfriends number , she had gotten to watch as poor Quinn's face paled when her mother's loud and annoyed voice rang down the line.

He had looked up at her in panic, eyes blown wide in shock as his mouth dropped open in absolute disbelief.

"what the fuck?" He mouthed at Lina panicking , his girlfriend too busy giggling as she made them something to eat in the kitchen.

“You gave your mother my phone number?!" He whisper shouted at her in exasperation , Lina just winking at him mischievously, enjoying every second of it.

"Quinn? That's your name? American?" Maria , her mother, immediately started to shootout her curious questions at him loudly. Pausing between them to yell something out to her husband that sounded suspiciously like 'she wasn't joking! I hear the accent! My poor heart!'.

Quinn didn't know what to say, heart pounding in his chest as he looked helplessly over at Lina , this being the first time he had had any contact with her parents at all.

They had been dating for six months at that point and her mama had enough of her hiding him away, so she decided to take matters into her own hands. By forcing her daughter to give her his number so she could smother him, already treating him like he was one of her own kids .

"Yes. It's Quinn. Er-American . I guess." He confirmed quietly , eyes still wide in shock as he heard her mother inhaled sharply , sounding a little too much like grief .

He smiled a little in amusement without realising , knowing just where Lina got her drama from now .

Lina had already warned him about her parents dramatics , about how exaggerated everything they did and said was. She had told him to just go with it, that they meant no harm. It was just the way they were.

Quinn thought it was both funny and terrifying , unsure if they were joking or not. The last thing he wanted to do was laugh at something her parents had said only to find out a little too late that they weren’t joking at all.

She muttered something in Spanish before sighing loudly .

“Quinn. You play sports? Lina tells me that you get hurt a lot? Will you die? Is this something we need to worry about?" She rushed out in concern, having spent the night googling him and seeing all the pictures of poor Quinn getting injured on the ice all the night .

Her mother almost had a heart attack. Used to lina's boyfriends either being football players or European models , some chefs.. none of them American. And none of them needing to wear head gear to protect their skull for work. Maria was worried sick.

Quinn chuckled a little bit , face softening as he heard the concern in her mother’s voice. Accent thicker than lina's was. He wondered if the more time Lina spent in Madrid , the more she would sound like home.

He knew that at some point Lina would want to go back home for longer periods of time , having told him herself that if he wanted to be in her life for a long time , then he better start practising his Spanish.

So far it hasn't been going too well , although he was certain that he could curse fluently in Spanish now , seeing as the love of his life has a motormouth like a sailer when she was even slightly annoyed. Everybody knew.

"No, no. I'll be okay.. it's usually my nose if I'm honest. It's apart of the sport unfortunately. And the teeth-" he tried to play it down for lina's mother sake, wincing a little in regret when she let out a sharp gasp at his words .

She sounded absolutely Horrified "teeth?! No! You keep them in your mouth,  I will not have it! I'm cooking for you when you and Lina come here, you need to keep all of your teeth in your mouth , por favor! Are you trying to kill me? American boy!" She ranted on, muttering about how there was no way she would be feeding him only soup and that he better keep them or else.

He laughed, finally relaxing a little as he peered over to the kitchen to see Lina feeding Juan his food , his eyes softening as he gazed at them with love in his eyes, so overwhelmed with it.

"Sorry. I'll make sure to have all my teeth in when you see me." He tried to joke, amused as he realised just where Lina got her dramatics from.

A few weeks ago when he had gotten a cut to his head while on the ice, he had come home to a furious Lina giving him the silent treatment .

Because apparently him getting a puck to the face was his fault and it was also his fault for scaring her. She had chucked an ice pack, a packet of painkillers and a flannel at him before stomping away. Refusing to speak to him until he had physically picked her up, pulled her into his arms to apologise for scaring her, wiping the tears from her pretty eyes as he promised her that he was okay.

She had started to come to more of his games after that, bringing a genuine smile to his face when he skated past and heard her cursing out someone from the opposite team loudly, if they even so much as bashed into him, she went all mama mode.

Quinn had been forced to tell her to stop calling the other team 'useless sperm and brainless bastards' before she got herself kicked out. No matter how much he enjoyed hearing her defend him in her slightly unhinged ways.

It was the thought that counts.

Even little Juan had started making outraged noises when he saw Quinn take a hit or push, the two year old gasping and yelling nonsense , or just his name over and over again, little finger pointing at whoever had hurt him as he shouted 'bad! Bad! Bad!' At them over and over again.

Lina encouraging her baby to scold the asshole with a proud look upon her face, easily ignoring the shocked or horrified looks that she received from around her. Only caring about Quinn .

She was protective of him, now her mother was too and he hadn't even met her face to face yet. It was...nice. To know that they cared so much about him but it still didn't manage to ease up his nerves about meeting them whatsoever.

"You're going to be okay amor. I promise. My mama already loves you. She sent you a first aid kid after watching your game on tv didn't she?" Lina remained him with a amused smile as she pulled him over to her, pushing him down on his shoulders so that he would sit on the closed toilet seat in front of her.

Grabbing some cleanser , she gently rubbed it over his face in soft circles , Quinn just letting her as he let out a soft sigh. Fingers fidgeting with the ends of her cotton shorts.

"She did. But your dad didn't. I haven't spoken to him at all. Except for that...email." He muttered , a little amused but mostly wary of the strangely business like email he had randomly received from her father one night after finishing a away game.

'That kid almost broke your jaw with that stick, very good swinging. Even when it hit you , he did not drop it. Perhaps I should take up hockey , would be a good anger reliever. No?' It had read. Signed off neatly with his name and nothing else.

Quinn had panicked, not sure if it was just a mere observation or a threat from her father.

Lina had just giggled like crazy when he had rushed into their room to show her his phone, telling him that he didn't have to worry. That was just her fathers sense of humour.

But Quinn wasn't so sure. Because at the end of the day he was going to be the first man that she had brought home in a long time , the first man that she had firmly declared to them that he was her forever. That it was serious this time.

That he was the one.

And well, Lina had never had much luck with man in the past. Mostly due to her bad taste and hormonal need to get herself a bad boy to cure her boredom .

So naturally, her parents were a little concerned with her sudden lovesick smiles and dreamy sighs whenever she rambled to them about Quinn.

"He likes you! He told me that he can't wait to meet you , he's never said that about any other guy before. He used to refuse to let them in the house. I had to sneak them all in through my bedroom window-" she told him absentmindedly as she picked up some toner and gently wiped some across his face too.

He just sighed , raising a brow at her "all of them? How many were there? I thought you only had two boyfriends in the past." He questioned her, confused.

Lina laughed "yeah. I did. But they weren't boyfriends, they were sex friends. Or- what did Jack call them?" She paused to look down at him curiously , not remembering the term that they all used.

Quinn pursed his lips together firmly "fuckbuddies." He mumbled . Stomach turning at the reminder of just how popular she was with the guys. It was nothing new to him.

He had adored her for a long time , had seen all the photos of her with different guys each week in magazines . He knew that she had a reputation but sometimes he just…forgot.

Because here, now, it was just them. Nobody else. Whenever they were in a crowded room her eyes only ever looked for him. It didn't matter if fucking Michael Jordan was in front of her, she was too busy trying to make him laugh at her stupid , sometimes mean, jokes. Too busy whispering to each other like lovesick teenagers, too busy pointing out things that they saw that the other person would like.

Nobody else existed to them when they were together. Her past didn't matter because it was her, Juan and Quinn now. Her slutty days were over.

She had Quinn to blame for that. She was sucking only one dick for the rest of her life now.

Nineteen years old Lina would have laughed hysterically at the thought of being tied down to one man . But now, now she was just happy.

As simple as that.

"You look beautiful mi amor. Tan bueno (so good)" she whispered to him as she gently applied her moisturiser over his face next, rubbing it in softly in soothing circles until she felt his breathing start to Calm down again.

He gently kissed her shoulder just before she could fully pull away, blushing darkly and smiling shyly as he bit down on his bottom lip sheepishly . Glancing down at the white waffle material shirt she had gotten him , oversized with some tan pants and brand new jordans. A little gold chain with L+J hanging delicately from it on his chest.

For Lina and Juana . He never took it off now.

"I don't look stupid? I look a bit...rich. But like-pretentiously maybe?" He mumbled unsurely as he picked at the thousands of dollars shirt that she had gotten him. Loving how soft it was but not used to dressing in anything luxurious like this. A sweatshirt and jeans , or sweatpants usually did him good.

But he couldn’t deny the way his chest and face filled with warmth as he saw Lina take in a deep breath, stepping away from him as she eyed him up and down, biting down on her lip as she gazed at him , eyes turning dark as she shamelessly checked him out.

Quinn fidgeted on his feet , letting out a nervous laugh the longer she was silent .

His laugh seemingly snapping her out of her dirty thoughts as she flushed, making eye contact with him as she Whistled long and hard.

"You look so sexy. Quiero hacerte cosas sucias. Mierda..(I want to do dirty things to you. Fuck..)" she breathed out. Smoothing her hands down the soft half buttoned shirt , in awe of how good he looked right then.

He chuckled lowly , cupping the back of her head as he bent down a little so that he could kiss the side of her face gently. Pressing another two kisses above her brow for good luck. Then another on her glossy lips just because he could .

"Was that a compliment?" It sounded like one , he felt his breath hitch as he watched her smirk up at him . Lashes fluttering as she squeezed his biceps firmly , reaching up to kiss his jaw.

"It was." She soothed his worries, kissing him again before pulling away when she heard a familiar loud voice coming in. "te amo." She let him know softly.

Quinn just laughed shyly, stroking her hair once last time before pulling away. Bending down just in time to catch Juan stumbling into the bathroom, holding a Batman toy in his hand.

"Te amo. I love you." He told her in both Spanish and English. Wishing he could tell her in every language. Simply saying it didn't feel enough.

There was no words to describe how he felt for her, just feelings. Never ending ones. The kind of love that made him dizzy and his knees go weak each time she smiled at him like that.

"Quinny! Looookkkk!" Juan shouted , laughing loudly as he picked him up. Proudly showing him his toy "I'm Batman!" He tried to do the voice. Looking at him impatiently as he waited for him to laugh.

Quinn did, running his fingers through the two years old hair gently to detangle the knots. Juan having decided to go on a hairdresser ban just like Quinn had, now Lina had two of them looking like scruffy rockstars with their outgrown hair and messy style.

They were lucky she loved them. She shook her head in amusement as she looked at what Juan was wearing , Quinn having been the one to get him ready that morning while she finished packing their bags.

"Really Quinn? Another one? It's all he wears now!" She laughed as she looked at juans Canucks jersey with Quinn's number and name all over it, with black basketball shorts underneath . A cap placed backwards on his head just like Quinn's .

She almost had a stroke. Glaring at her giggling boyfriend in exasperation. He just couldn't help himself could he?

He just shrugged proudly , straightening out said jersey on the two year old contently. "So? He looks cool. He's repping the best player out there. Aren't you buddy?" He tickled Juan's tummy , grinning proudly when he nodded his head happily. Squealing as he tried to wiggle away.

"Si! Si! I'm going to play too!" He happily announced to his mother , making Quinn freeze with a guilty wince.

She gasped loudly , horrified "you are not! You have a beautiful nose ..and face ! And your teeth mi amor! No!" She felt faint as she clutched her chest dramatically . Narrowing her eyes over at Quinn dangerously , knowing exactly who had been putting this idea in his head.

He chuckled nervously , patting little mans back to get Him to shut up as he grinned innocently at Lina "no. He's just- he's kidding aren't you bud?" He rose a brow down at Juan pointedly , Juan just blinked up at him in confusion .

“He's kidding."

He was not.

Little guy already loved watching hockey and Quinn couldn't wait to get him into skates . To be able to teach him everything he knew, it was going to be amazing . His little mini him. And even though Juan wasn't his biologically , that didn't mean Jack shit to him.

Because for the past year the two of them had bonded , had spent almost everyday together , Lina And Juan travelled with him to as many away games as they could , and the two year old loved it. Loved him.

Quinn don't care what anybody else thought , he knew that he loved Lina and Juan unconditionally, and that wasn't going to fade anytime soon. They were his future now. Everybody else could suck it.

Even if he lost on the ice, he was winning of it so..it made the sting fade pretty damn quick when he was greeted with their warm embrace and uplifting words to him after each game.

They were his family now .

"Don't worry. You're gonna be just as good as me. Juan the star. Like your mama." He mumbled down to the two year in his arms as he wandered out of the bathroom with him , to put on his shoes and sunscreen before Lina tried to kill him again for letting little man out of the house without it.

A plane ride later and Quinn was back to panicking as they parked up outside of a large bungalow style home in what looked to the be there middle of no where , feeling his heart racing in his chest as he lingered by the car while Lina got a sleeping Juan out of his seat.

"I'm going to be sick." He muttered dreadfully , wiping the sweat gathering on his hairline with a shaky hand. Wafting his now stifling shirt with the other . 

He was scared shitless. In Madrid. Oh god.

Lina just giggled as she pushed his sweaty hair away from his forhead , handing him a candy bar with the other. "It's the heat. You can take off your shirt if you want to cool down more." She suggested , more for herself than anything.

Quinn wasn't as amused, shooting her a Look of disbelief as he clutched at the candy bar in his hand.

"You want me to be shirtless as I meet your Parents? Are you trying to get me killed? Lina!" He hissed after her as she casually walked down the long driveway to the door, Quinn quickly scuttling after her.

Reaching over to snatch up her free hand to hold, clinging onto her fingers tightly as he tried to remember how to breath . The anxiety about what was going to happen about to kill him.

Lina just gently kissed his shoulders, face softening sympathetically "Quinn. Stop it. Everything is going to be okay. Just don't mention football-" before she could finish her warning , the front door swung open.

Quinn freezing in his spot as a short , dark haired woman looked up at him with wide eyes, gasping loudly as she clutched a tea towel to her chest.

"A vampire!" She almost screeched in fright. Looking like she had seen a ghost, or someone as pale as one.

She looked horrified as she looked at poor Quinn who looked helplessly to his girlfriend , Lina just giggling hysterically as she nudged past her mother to get inside their home to put Juan down now that he was sleep.

"Oh no! Come on! Come on! What happened? You allergic to the sun?" She ushered him in , clutching onto Quinn's arm as she dragged him through the house and towards the back patio doors.

Lina just waving at him with a amused giggle, having already expected this reaction from her mother for bringing home a very pale American boy.

He flushed pink , letting her drag him out to the garden , trying not to laugh at the genuine worry on the older woman's face .

“No. No- just don't get out as much I guess." He didn't know what to say. Instead letting her mother just Mother him instead.

Maria huffed as she pushed him down onto a chair , shaking her head at him. "Not good at all! You sit here, you get some colour! You can't go scaring people like that! What will the neighbours think?" She pulled out some sunscreen from her apron and clutched his face tightly on one hand, roughly applying it all over his face while Quinn spluttered.

Squeezing his eyes shut to stop it getting in his eyes as she roughly patted it all over his face , tutting at him as she did so.

“I don't get tan. I just burn. I'll go red." He tried to warn her, more than amused now as she lifted up his arms to apply sunscreen there too.

He peered over Maria's shoulders to see Lina by the back door, leaning against it with a amused smirk on her face while holding up her phone as she videoed him getting scolded and smothered by her mother , no doubt going to send it to his brothers and their friends back home.

Maria just patted his head, "yes you will. You're not leaving until I see health! Lina pass me the sun oil! And a bandana too!" She shouted over to her giggling  daughter who immediately did as she was told, passing her the magic oil with a grin.

Her mother narrowed her eyes at her "you let this happen? He looks -paper! I could write a letter on his face!" She scolded her accusingly .

Lina just laughed "mama! I like him as he is! He's my Casper! So cute!" She cooed at him. Enjoying the offended look on her poor boyfriends face as her mother manhandled him .

"Lina.." Quinn exclaimed , offended "Casper the ghost? Seriously?!"

She snorted "I love Casper and I love you so shut up and get tanning mi amor. You whine too much." She bantered back at him. Used to their bickering and back and forth back home.

Her mother was not. Maria gasped loudly "be kind! He is your partner , not your secret lover! I remember how you used to treat those boys when you were younger Lina! So mean!" She scolded her. Making Quinn laugh loudly .

"Yeah Lina. Be nice to me." He smirked over at her, one eye closed as her mother slapped oil all over his face as well. He felt like a Christmas Turkey about to be cooked. But he wasn't going to say anything.

Inhaling deeply , she rolled her eyes at him before turning around just As her father came to the door, pausing by the doorframe as his eyes wandered from his daughter and then over to the supposed 'love of her life' that she had not stopped gushing about to them.

He frowned , titling his head a little as he watched his wife wrap a bandana around the poor Quinn's head, making him grimace as she tightened it too much.

He looked worried as he looked at his only daughter with concern written all over his face "my love..Is he sick? It's not a good idea to travel when sick, I don't want to get sick." He worried "is he contagious?"

Used to her parents dramatics, Lina just laughed as she hugged her father tightly . Carlos kissing the top of her head fondly as he embraced her with a happy sigh , having missed her while she was gone.

"No papa. He is well. Very well in fact.." she sighed dreamily as she gazed over at her boyfriend now being forcefully fed by her overbearing mother who had now moved onto complaining about him not eating enough , despite this being the first time she had even met him .

Thankfully , Quinn had somewhat expected something like this to happen, the constant texts and inpatient phone calls with Maria demanding to know if they were both eating well and keeping hydrated letting him know that she took her motherly duties very seriously. Even if she was in a completely different country.

"Thank you for sending me those recipes by the way.." Quinn spoke up shyly after a few moments of Maria plating up some food for him , fidgeting with the evil eye bracelet on his wrist that Lina had made them all wear , even his own brothers had to as well.

Maria smiled at him , pleased with his politeness as she took a seat opposite him, ready to get to know her daughters new forever better. She had never seen Her baby so in love before, so she wanted to see for herself just why Lina had chosen Quinn out of all the men she could have had . The pale American boy had been the one she looked twice at and never turned away from since.

Her mother had been surprised , a little catious and more than confused at first , but now as she watched Quinn take small glances over at her daughter with a small smile playing on his lips each time he heard her laugh and seen her smile , Maria began to realise that perhaps Lina was right.

This might be it for her. For him.

He might be the one that mothers like Maria had wished for and prayed for their daughters to find their whole lives.

"You tried making them?" She inquired , proud to know that she had been of help.

Lina had offhandedly mentioned one time on the phone that Quinn had been trying to learn how to cook more Spanish dishes for her but was struggling.

Maria's instincts had kicked in and after a hour long phone call with a startled Quinn , she had sent him more than enough family recipes to last a lifetime. Telling him to call her if he got lost in them, helping him whenever he had a question , their odd and sparse texts with Quinn sheepishly asking her if he had gotten the right onion or the right type of flour for the recipe , had endeared him even more to her .

He had been passing the mothers tests with flying colours , Maria could already hear the wedding bells in the distance . She hid her smile behind her fingers , watching as Quinn fiddled with his fork like a nervous kid , smiling up at her briefly before looking away.

"Yeah I did." He nodded his head in confirmation "we have date night every Friday and Saturday. We take turns . And Lina seems happy each time she ate what I cooked so.." he let out a small chuckle "I think it's been going okay. She hasn't thrown up yet so that's a good sign." He tried to joke , squinting from the hot sun blaring down on his oiled up skin.

Maria hummed proudly "very good. You know..my husband has bought me flowers every week since we were eighteen years old." She spoke fondly of Carlos, both of them peering over at her father who was still standing by the door with Lina , talking with smiles on their faces as they embraced .

Quinn smiled fondly , struggling to take his eyes of Lina as he watched the sun shine down on her , highlighting the short , flowy white dress she was wearing, her curls long down her back as she gently ran her fingers through the ends , seeing the golden locket that he had gotten her resting against her chest , shining beautifully , he let out a happy sigh. Unable to believe that this was his life now.

For so long he had posters on his wall of Lina, now their apartment had a wall full of photographs of them together.

He felt like he was in a dream , one that he never wanted to wake up from.

"Lina loves flowers too. I think that we'll end up having a garden full of flowers in the future. She really loves them all. I got her marigolds last week and she's been pressing them to keep them forever. It's nice.." he mumbled a little shyly , perking up when he heard a familiar screech of his name.

Head snapping over to the backdoor to see that Juan had woken up, the two year old stumbling as fast as he could over to him. Quinn laughing a little as he reached down to pick him up, placing him onto his knee as Juan shoved a Batman figure into his face excitedly.

"Oh wow!" He gasped playing along as he gently ruffled his hair "it's Batman! Is he being a hero again?"

Juan grinned up at him happily "si! We can play at home. You Spider-Man." He practically demanded.

The two of them having spent hours playing every game imaginable. Lately Juan had gotten into avengers after sitting with Quinn on the couch while he watched it. Anything that he liked, Juan did too. It made his chest warm as he smiled down at the little boy on his lap, pressing a kisss to the side of his head affectionately.

"Deal." As he continued to converse and play with Juan, he missed the look of softness and approval he got from Maria as she watched her grandson and future son in law get lost in their own world together. Quinn not hesitating to let himself be dragged away to play with the excited two year old, the happiness clear on both of their faces as they played.

Maria beamed happily and looked up to the sky "whoever did this. I will owe you a lifetime! You did well!"

"Quintin , you play?" Carlos, her father , finally approached him after not so subtly watching the hockey player play with his two year old grandson outside on the sandpit. Trying to find a moment to catch him off guard and find out who he really was and what his intentions with his daughter were.

Lina was his only daughter, his star , his life. He would only accept the best for her, nothing less. Carlos had spent years accepting the fact that Lina would probably end up with some European guy, a footballer or a some Spanish male model.

His daughter had a type . Tall, tanned and built like Greek gods , loud and confident . A real smooth talker with the charm of a rich man who knew just what he wanted . And usually what they wanted was his daughter.

Carlos had always thought that the day Lina brought home a boyfriend , it would be somebody that the family already knew. Or somebody that their country did.

But apparently he had been wrong because Carlos was now staring down at a startled , pale , awkward American man sitting in his sandbox with little Juan in his lap, avengers figures all around them.

He just sighed long and hard, pursed his lips and repeated himself again "you play?" Impatiently raising a brow at him.

Quinn blinked and then Rapidly nodded his head, heart racing in his chest as he looked up at her intimidating father towering over him. Looking less than impressed.

Clearing his throat a little , he hugged the two year old a little closer to his chest nervously .

“Yeah. I play hockey-" he tried to smile at him, hoping to show that he wasn't a absolute dickhead like lina's long list of lovers in the past were .

But Carlos quickly cut him off, testing him "no. You play hearts? Girls? You like breaking their seeet hearts and making them cry?" His voice was tense, as though expecting him to agree and give him a casual ‘yeah. Love it!'

Quinn felt like he was going to have a heart tack as he let out a nervous laugh , quickly shaking his head no.

"No! No. Not me. I don't -no. That's more my brothers thing-" he tried to joke, tried to break the sudden tension that had fallen upon them.

Juan hitting his shoulder with an iron man figure, he briefly looked down to give him a smile, taking the Batman figure from his other hand that he wanted him to hold. "One minute little man." He mumbled to him , rubbing his arm gently to soothe him.

Seeing this, Carlos softened a little . But not much. Still on edge and more than confused at his daughter bringing home a guy that was the complete opposite of all the others before.

"You're very strange. My wife seems to think that you're good though. A little quite but ..." he shrugged loosely as he recalled his wife's praises of Quinn as she warned him to play nice with their daughters new partner.

Quinn didn't know how to take that, so he just offered an unsure smile up at him "that's-nice? I think." He muttered while slowly standing to his feet so he didn't have to keep looking up at her father like a little kid getting a scolding at school.

Hoisting juan up into his arms , the two year old giggling as he continued to play with his figure on Quinn's shoulder. Completely unbothered by how tense Quinn had gone.

Her father sighed again "yes. Very nice. Do you plan on coming home with her more often ? To Madrid I mean." He asked him curiously .

Wanting Lina to have someone that would make sure that she was happy too. That would put in the effort to make things work even from a whole different country away. That would make her his priority.

Quinn nodded slowly "yeah. I mean, we haven't talked about it but we'll kind of just be going back and forth. I like it here- a lot different than back home but its nice. “ he shrugged a little shyly , barely able to look her father in the eye. Scared he'd say something wrong and ruin the whole thing for them.

He wanted lina's parents to like him, with her mom it had been pretty easy. The woman had already been calling and texting him for months pestering him about his health , and making sure they were eating food and getting enough sleep.

Her father though ...Quinn didn't know what to say or do around him .  The man had the aura of someone that wasn't afraid to simply make you disappear if you did him or his family wrong in any way.

It was safe to say that Quinn's stomach was turning into a sickly bay of nerves and anxiety . Just wanting everything to go smoothly.

Lina was his forever and if he wanted to marry her someday soon, wanted to have their own family and be each other's future. He needed her family to like him , otherwise it was going to make for awkward weddings , tense dinners and thanksgivings .

Lina would kill him.

Carlos nodded , pleased. "Yes it is. This is serious for you? You can't mess around like this. Not when there is a beautiful child involved too." He got firm with his words as he gently brushed Juan's hair from his face. Adoring his grandson.

"I know what you American boys are like! I've seen the shows!" Her father scowled , protective of his family.

Quinn's eyes widened In panic "I am serious! I can promise you sir. The minute I saw Lina.." he hesitated to say , overcome by the emotional ball rising up his throat .

He adjusted Juan in his arms and let out a small sigh , gathering what confidence and courage he had to make sure that Carlos knew that his daughter was the light of his world now , that he would never hurt her. Never break her heart.

"Tell me." Carlos encouraged as he led him over to one of the garden benches , patting his shoulder encouragingly once he noticed him struggling for words. Realising that he may have come on a little strong and scared the poor guy, he smiled a little at him with humour "there's nothing more a father loves than hearing the love his daughter has gained." He told him sincerely , warning to hear it from his mouth that it was true. That this wasn't just some phase they were going through.

Quinn let out a shaky breath and started quietly "I knew ya know? I've admired her for what felt like all my life...and then she was there. In front of me, smiling and I just -" he let out a sheepish chuckle , shaking his head in amazement to himself as he glanced over the end of the garden to see Lina smiling with her mother as they shared some wine.

"I felt like I was dying. Like I couldn't breathe." He admitted to her father shyly , averting his eyes down to little Juan snuggled up in his arms .

He softly ran his fingers through his curly hair , the two year old humming happily as he clung onto him a little tighter. Snuggling into him with ease. Trusting Quinn completely.

"Nobody tells you that falling in love can feel like you’re having a heartattack." He muttered as colour filled his cheeks , not used to talking about his feelings out loud like this to anyone other than Lina.

Carlos laughed knowingly , smirking a little at him "oh I know that one! It was the same with my wife. I couldn’t even speak to her at first unless I had a drink or two!" He let him know , amusement colouring his voice as he watched Quinn sheepishly look up from his lap and up to him again.

Reminding him of a nervous teenager about to ask his crush to the dance , Carlos smiled . Slowly begging to relax as he realised that maybe Quinn really was just simply a good guy.

Quinn chuckled a little "she's always made me so incredibly happy. Even before I knew her. It's embarrassing. All the guys chirp me for it back home.." he muttered , adjusting the now napping two year old more comfortably on his chest. Placing his little head In the crook of his neck so it wouldn't ache at a weird angle while sleeping .

Carlos just scoffed a little "never be embarrassed for feeling love. You see so many guys that are too involved with their own pride, too afraid to seem weak to other guys around them, feel like they're too tough to show affection and to be soft.  But to be emotionally available and soft for the one that you love, that is something only a truly man can do. One that is needed to be in love and loved in return. Do you understand?" He placed a firm hand on Quinn's free shoulder, smiling at him softly .

His earlier worries being washed away just like that, he had a good feeling about this one.

Quinn nodded his head slowly as he let his wise words of encouragement sink in, feeling a small weight being lifted off from his shoulders as he looked up at lina's father and saw nothing but approval now.

"I do. I get it. I've just - I’ve never felt like this before so it's a little overwhelming. But I do, I love her. And I love Juan too. He's a cool little dude. Loves watching hockey with me so that's nice.." he rambled to him with a small laugh , affection filling him at the thought of the little Home made family he had now.

Her father grinned at him , pleased. Deciding that he wouldn’t go feeding Quinn to the sharks anytime soon.

"you hold her hand in public?" He wanted to know. Another little test.

Quinn didn't hesitate to nod his head "yeah, I do." He then let out a shy laugh "although I think it's more for my benefit than hers. She makes me feel calm. It's hard to feel down when she's holding my hand." He mumbled shyly , eyes back down to his feet.

"You rub her feet when they ache?"

"I do." He nodded. Biting back a smile.

Carlos hummed "You gave her your jacket when she's cold? You keep her warm even if it means you're not?" He asked him seriously .

Quinn chuckled "I do. But Honeslty usually it's me stealing her sweathisrts and jackets. We practically share them now. She's got good taste." He admitted, unashamed to admit that Lina was the fashionista of the two of them.

She had upgraded his wardrobe that now consisted of cool sweathisrts , designer hoodies and linen sets , all of the finest cotton. Lina liked to take care of him like that . It was nice.

Carlos's smile grew even softer , nodding his head along in satisfaction . "You hold her tight even in front of your friends? You laugh even when a joke she tells you isn’t so funny?"

Quinn smiled down at his hand resting on Juan's little head , laughing lightly as he recalled all the times that he had laughed at lina's stupid jokes, not because they were funny but because she found them to be .

She would always start giggling before she could even finish saying her joke and that was what made Quinn laugh along with her each time.

If She was happy then so was he. It really was as simple as that.

"I do." He breathed out , grinning "she try's her best. We watch a show together and even though I watched it with her , she will still repeat all of the jokes they said on tv to me." He told her father fondly , shaking his head in amusement at his girlfriends ways .

Her father just smiled and placed a hand on top of Quinn's head , ruffling his hair before he could even blink .  Letting out a loud laugh as he saw Quinn's startled reaction, his eyes snapping over to him in slight shock . Having not expected the fatherly touch like that, Carlos patted his shoulder once more before finally pulling away.

"Then you have my approval." Carlos told him simply , more than pleased with what he had learned. Feeling a weight lift off of his shoulders now that he knew that his daughter and grandson really were in good hands .

Quinn began to smile widely , letting out a loud sigh of relief "yeah? Thank god..otherwise this would have made birthdays and Christmases really awkward." He said without thinking , more tan relieved.

Carlos just chuckled "mhmm. But I gotta warn you Quinn..." he let out a dramatic breath as he gestured around the large stretch of empty land around his home .

"-one line overstepped, one tear of hurt or pain ,  or a broken heart... " he stared the poor American hockey player down seriously "you see all of this land of mine? It’s Endless.."

Quinn nodded warily , a little scared now "yeah?" Eyes growing wide as he began to realise Just where her father was going with his little speech.

He recalled lina’s reassuring laugh as she told him in a giggle that 'her father wouldn't even hurt a fly!'

Quinn swallowed audibly and realised then that perhaps Lina hadn't seen him around her other ex boyfriends before. She definitely hadn't Been around for the 'man to man' chats or the 'I'm just going to show him my collection of handmade nail studded bats'.

And maybe she was right . Carlos wouldn't hurt a fly but he would hurt anyone who dared to lay a painful hand on his daughter physically or emotionally.

She was his baby. Anyone that hurt her would simple become a ghost. As simple as that.

Carlos looked at him square on "if you break my daughters or my grandsons heart.." he inhaled sharply just at the thought of his family getting hurt "you will become dust on my land. I will plant flowers with you. Si?" He casually said to him, tone calm as though he was talking about the weather to him.

Quinn rapidly  nodded  his head , shocked at the sudden threat of his life.

“Si. Si. Yeah. Loud and clear." He stumbled out , laughing nervously as he looked around in hopes of spotting Lina nearby. Preferably to find her before her father told him all the ways he Could make him disappear.

Carlos just laughed at the scared look on his face , then he reached over to smack the back of his head before standing to his feet again . Amused.

"I like you." He grinned contently while pointing a finger at him, nodding along to what he was saying .

"You should come here More often. We can play golf together. In case hockey doesn't work out. You need backups." He told him happily , the intimidating and cold demeanour falling right back off him now that he had gotten his little tests on Quinn out of the way.

Quinn could only blink up at him in surprise , still thrown off from the whole 'I will kill you' talk. But he nodded nonetheless .

“Sure sir. Sounds fun." He said nervously.

Yet he couldn't help but smile a little at Carlos saying that he liked him. That was all that he had wanted out of this trip. For her parents to like him. He had gotten 2/2. So he was feeling pretty pleased with himself then.

Her father just laughed "don't call me sir! It's Carlos. You're family now! My daughter loves you so I will learn to love you too!" He told him grinning , hands on his hips as he let out a long dramatic sigh.

"This was good." He declared then , speaking his mind. "I was worried but now I am not." He simply said "you're a good American boy. I didn't realise you existed . A little pale but ..more summers here will fix that." He rambled to him "welcome to the family kid."

Quinn grinned.

Later that night when everybody was asleep, Quinn was keeping Lina awake with his excited whispers in the dark as he relaid his whole day with her. Lina moaning sleepily as she snuggled into his neck, legs intertwined as she listened to him, half asleep already.

Quinn played with her hair as he mumbled "I think that we should get a place here. We could come here , like , swap the weeks between ours and here. Your father said that there was some nice beach houses not too far away from here." He suggested quietly , running his free hand down her bare back gently . Lightly scratching her shoulders with his nails just the way she liked it.

Lina lifted her head a little to look at him in surprise , letting out a shocked laugh. That having been the last thing she had expected him to say to her that night.

"You really like it that much here?" She couldn't believe it, happiness filling her chest at the thought of being able to have a place with Quinn in the same place she had grown up in. Her home. Just like Quinn was.

He just nodded shyly , eyes darting across her face quickly to check her reaction . He only relaxed a little once he saw her growing smile .

He smiled too "yeah. I do. But also -" he tucked himself underneath her chin , being the one to snuggle her this time. Wrapping his arms around her waist so she could hold him close .

“I think it would be good for Juan to see his grandparents more." He whispered before hesitating briefly "and-"

He cleared his throat a little sheepishly "and your dad wants to take me golfing. Apparently there's a family tournament this summer that he wants me to be in with him so.. he really wants to be the neighbours . So I'll need the practice." He shyly mumbled to her . Cheeks colouring red as he felt her chest vibrate beneath him with a amused giggle.

She ran her fingers through his hair gently , kissing the top of his head over and over again as pride filled her. Recalling how scared Quinn had been to even talk to her father , convinced that Carlos wouldn't like him.

And now look at him, one day with her father and they were already planning going golfing together. She couldn't have felt any happier if she tried.

"New best friend?" She teased him affectionately, lifting his head up by his hair gently so that she could see his face that he was hiding from her.

With blushed cheeks and glossy eyes , he giggled shyly "yeah. Maybe." He sounded excited too , having spent the rest of the day after their 'talk' hanging out with her father .

He was a really cool guy and Quinn honestly felt like he had a second father figure for him to talk to , he loved Carlos. And Carlos loved him now.

He was so fucking happy he could cry. For once in his life everything was working out the way it should.

All the stars were aligning and he knew that he only had the love of his life to thank for it. His happiness really was secured with her.

"I also said that I'd take him to some of my hockey games as well." He told her with a pleased smile on his face , biting down on his lip as he peered up at his girlfriend through his lashes bashfully , his chin caught between her fingers firmly to keep his eyes on her.

"Yeah?" She smiled, pecking his nose . Heart bursting with love for the man she had given her whole heart to.

He nodded "yeah. He said he'll come as long as good food and wine is provided." He told her in amusement , having spent a good few hours explaining the rules of hockey to her confused father who didn't have a clue to what he did on the ice at all. But Quinn was certain that he could make Carlos a fan, hopefully of him and his team, but a fan nonetheless.

Lina just giggled in amusement "sounds like him." She muttered fondly before letting out a long sigh as she smiled down at him in adoration .

"I love you . You know that?" She whispered to him, brushing her lips against his own parted ones gently ,

He let out a shaky breath against her lips, swallowing audibly as he looked down at her pouty mouth that only he got to kiss now.

"I know. I can feel it." It was true.

She didn't need to tell him that she loved him for him to know, her love was in everything she did for him. Everything she said. Love was just her choosing him, over and over again.

“You're my whole fucking universe and all the stars in the sky." He felt himself begin to get emotional , so overcome with love for her that welled ip his eyes and made his lip tremble for her.

"I love you." He whispered against her lips, smiling

"I always will." He promised and he meant it.

And so did the diamond ring in his suitcase just waiting to be opened .

Something that would be much more easier to do now that he had her fathers approval and blessing to love Lina for the rest of his damn life.

[seenoversundown]

Amongst The Stars: Chapter Three

Josh x Quinn (Nonbinary OC)

Warnings: Misgendering of a nonbinary character, Men (that’s it. That’s the warning), Wallet chains, Jake being Sweet. Word Count: 4.1k Summary: Josh has always loved love,  and he's finally found it. Buuuut, he can't exactly tell anyone. Join him as he navigates the ins and outs of his sweet, secret romance. Author's Note: We are officially on our regularly scheduled programming. Every monday, babies. I hope you all enjoy this one and the little dual POV action. I just had to get quinn back in there for a little bit at the end :)

Can't Take My Eyes off You - Frankie Valli  “Pardon the way that I stare There's nothin' else to compare The sight of you leaves me weak There are no words left to speak”

I can’t stop thinking about Quinn after they leave. Every little thing I do draws my mind back to them. I know it’s wrong, and I shouldn’t be, but I am jealous of their partner. God, Josh, you sound insane. Pining for a person you’ve met one time, being jealous of their partner. Their partner doesn’t respect them, so their partner doesn’t factor in. Sometimes, I wish brains functioned like an etch-a-sketch because I try shaking my head to clear those thoughts, but it doesn’t quite work, and I end up with a minor headache. Oh well. I walk back up to the front of the store, disinterested in actually working now that my day has been positively derailed by a lovely and mysterious person in a pair of beat-up Doc Martens. 

I stand by the front registers, waiting to greet customers as they walk in. Hobby Lobby has never been my favorite place to work, but it really isn't so bad when you're a manager and can choose to fuck off on the clock if you want to.Which I do. I want to fuck off on the clock badly. I look down at my watch, noting that I only have 20 minutes until I can clock out for the day. There's no sense in starting a new task, I smile to myself. I'm pleased I've managed to time my “greeting responsibilities” so well with the end of my shift. I stand around for a minute, bouncing back and forth on the balls of my feet, and I let my mind drift back to Quinn. Their lips looked so plush and biteable. It should be illegal that they nibbled their lips in front of me while I didn't have the option to offer my assistance. 

I ponder their lips for another moment before my mind slips back to their concerning comment. “He’d done a lot worse for less…”  My eyebrows furrow as I try to imagine a situation in which I would be anything short of sweet and kind to Quinn. 

I meander out of the first set of sliding doors and step into the area where only the ugliest furniture goes to die. Goin’ to the Hobby Lobby lobby, I sing to myself as I take stock of the atrocious seasonal items that no customer would ever think to purchase. That's a lie; old women exist. I walk the area and make a mental note to bring the feather duster out tomorrow to tackle the growing piles of dust that inhabit the, reasonably, rejected items. I run my finger along the gilded frame of one of the paintings that’s propped up atop one of the fucking ugliest baby pink chalk-painted tables I've ever seen. Of course, it's chalk paint, I shudder. My thoughts return to the painting; it’s massive, at least two and a half feet long—a highland cow with fluffy hair covering its eyes and an inexplicable crown of leaves resting upon its stupid little horns. 

“Oh, Bessie,” I whisper, pulling my finger back from the frame and examining the dust that came with it. “They could never make me hate you. I may hate everything in this sad room, but never you.”  I decide to check the markdown schedule tomorrow because, as much as I love this goofy little cow, I will never take her home at full price. I do have some standards. 

As I'm about to turn around and head back into the store proper, I hear the entrance door slide open as a man about my age, give or take, walks through. 

“Oh! Hey, man. Welcome to Hobby Lobby,” I greet him.  “Lookin' for a dude named Josh.”  Me? I take a second to look him over. Curly, blonde hair that sits a bit too close to his eyes. Nondescript black tee with baggy jeans. A wallet chain attached to his belt loop. A fucking wallet chain. What year is this? Well-worn Adidas sneakers. He seems safe enough. A bit worse for wear, but he doesn't seem scary. 

“Ah, yep,” I stick my hand out, offering it in greeting, “that’d be me!” He looks at my outstretched hand and scoffs.  Okayyyyyyy, maybe I misjudged.  “I just wanted to talk with you, man to man.”  “About…”  “About you flirting with my girlfriend,” he cocks an eyebrow.  “Not sure what you mean, champ,” I let out an awkward chuckle.“Don’t pull that shit with me, man.”  “I’m afraid I really don't know what you're talking about. I haven't said more than ‘hi, welcome to Hobby Lobby’ to a girl in weeks.”  “So, you're gonna act like you have no idea who Quinn is?”  I narrow my eyes,  putting two and two together. This is Quinn’s shithead partner.  “I don't think they’d appreciate you calling them your girlf—” “I don't exactly care what she’d appreciate right now,” he cuts me off, “I'm here to talk to you.” 

Oh, so he reallyyyyyyyy doesn't respect them. Noted. 

“Yeah, so,” I roll my eyes, “you can talk at me, but you're not talking to me until you show some respect.”  I watch his face contort in confusion, quickly morphing into anger. “Why should I respect you?” He spits out quickly.  “Are you delusional? Just stupid?”  I can't help but laugh at the look on his face  “I’m not asking you to respect me,” I continue, “I'm asking you to respect your partner. It’s ridiculous that you're in here, trying to talk to me ‘man to man’ while you're misgendering them.”  I watch as realization dawns on his face.  “Come on, you know I didn't mean that.”  “I’m assuming you’ve been with them long enough to know better,” I watch his eyes slowly shift away from mine, “not that length of time has anything to do with respect.” 

His eyes fall to the floor, properly chastised. 

“I—”  “For what it’s worth,” I cut him off, “from the few minutes that I talked to Quinn today, in a purely professional capacity, I think they deserve better than whatever it is you have to offer.”  “Hey—”  “AND, don't forget that they’ll realize that one day. And when they do, someone will be waiting to treat them better.” 

I check my watch.  Time to gooooooo! 

“Anyway,” I pause, narrowing my eyes at him in a silent gesture to get his name.  “Craig.”  “Anyway, Greg, my shift is over. I don't intend to mention this to Quinn the next time I see them, and I’d suggest you don't either.” 

I turn on my heel and book it to the break room, practically sprinting by the time I make it to the double doors. I push through, throw my smock on one of the hooks above the time clock, and punch out. Finally, finally, I sit on the worn-out leather couch across from the lockers and let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding in. 

“What the FUUUUUUUUUUCK,” I lean my head back and groan. 

I didn't have “getting accosted by a fucking freak” on today’s bingo card, but I suppose I'll have to tick it off regardless. Who does he think he is? Who do I think I am? I don't talk to people like that. I pull out my phone and send a text to Jake, chuckling at his nickname in my phone. I'm five minutes older, and I will never let him live it down. 

Me: I think I messed up  Kiddo: Elaborate on that?   Me: No 

I slide my phone into my pocket and stand up from the couch, shaking some of the nervous energy from my limbs. I’ll explain everything to Jake when I get home; I just need him to know I may be in a mood. 

I let out a long sigh and slowly made my way out to the front of the store, praying to whatever gods existed that Craig would be gone by the time I got there. I thank all my lucky stars as I walk out of the first set of sliding doors and find myself alone. I glance once more at my girl Bessie, then head out to the parking lot. I glance in every which direction, ensuring that Craig isn’t hiding anywhere, waiting to pop out and murder me. Perhaps I am being dramatic, but my gut tells me you cannot trust someone who wears a wallet chain unironically. And I always follow my gut. 

I make it to my Jeep truck and sigh as I plant myself in the driver's seat, connecting my phone to Bluetooth and clicking into my Apple Music Discover Station. Occasionally, I find something new that I enjoy. The opening notes of a pop song filter over the speakers as I back out of my parking spot and pull through the parking lot. Sam would hate this; I’ll have to add it to the bar playlist. 

I bob my head to the music, driving down the road back to my apartment “I’m your dream come true when it's on a platter for you…” For some reason that brings Quinn to the forefront of my mind, I can’t help but think about what a piece of shit Craig was to me today. I hope he’s better to them, but something tells me he isn’t. The things they said about him today…My stomach clenches thinking about it. Someone like Quinn deserves the world, and Craig is obviously not giving it to them. I could. Okay, no, that’s crazy. 

I sigh, pulling up to the stop sign next to the bar that Jake owns. We’ve lived in the apartment above it for years, but the prior owner finally decided to sell it, and Jake took him up on the offer. Jake got a job down at the docks when we were freshly graduated from high school; he decided he didn’t care about college and just wanted to set himself up with a good job that would pay him enough to put money back in savings and have a little spending money on top, and in Portland… That’s the docks.  Not that he ever needed spending money; he didn’t (and still doesn’t) ever do anything for himself. He’s always been too busy taking care of everyone else. I can’t even remember the last time he took a nice girl out for dinner. 

I pull into the back side of the parking lot and slam my car into park, practically jerking my key out of the ignition and running through the backdoor of the bar, ready to see my twin after the horrendously long day I’ve had. 

“Uh, hey, bub,” Jake greets me from behind the bar with a confused wave.  “Hey, kiddo,” I sigh, sitting at the bar top, “can I get a salty dog?”“Sure thing, gin or vodka?”  I raise an eyebrow at him, signaling he doesn't need to be in customer mode with me.  “Surprise me.” 

I watch as he takes a bottle of Tanqueray gin from the top shelf, pours a measure of it into his cocktail shaker, and then adds grapefruit juice, lime juice, and ice. He shakes it, then strains it into a highball glass rimmed with salt and slides it over to me. 

I take a sip, and, of course, it's delicious. Jake indeed found his calling here — no one on this earth can make a cocktail like he can. 

“Perfect as always, Jake.”  “I don't make them any other way,” he starts, “now, wanna tell me about how you ‘think you messed up?’”  I slam back the rest of my drink and shake my glass, asking for another.  “Slow down, you're gonna drink me out of house and home,” Jake scolds, but prepares another one, nonetheless.  “I need a little help loosening my lips.”  “Get real, you've never had an issue talking in your life. If anything, you're too good at it.”  I roll my eyes but secretly know he’s correct. I'm a known yapper.  “I resent that, you know.”  “And I don't care, stop changing the subject.”  “Fine,” I huff, “I got into a fight with a customer today.”  “Physical or…”  “Verbal, obviously. Do I look like a scrapper?”  He chuckles, wiping non-existent dust off of the spotless bar top.

“Anyway, some crazy dude wearing a wallet chain, of all things, came in and yelled at me for hitting on his partner.”  “What?”  “Yes, Jake. A wallet chain. In 2024. I was baffled, too.”  “No! Not that, you weirdo. He yelled at you for what?!” “Oh, he thought I was hitting on his partner.”  “Well, were you?”  I sit and think for a moment. I wasn't not flirting with them, but it wasn't my initial intent.  “Maybe a little,” I sigh, “I didn't realize they were in a relationship. And I do have eyes. They were too cute. I had to try and shoot my shot or whatever the kids say.”  “You’d ‘shoot your shot’ with a wall. I’m honestly shocked this is the first time this has happened.”  “I resent that, too.”  “Add it to the list.”  “Anyway, I think the guy was just insecure. But I may have been rude to him.”  Jake slowly blinks at me.  “You were rude?”  “I know,” I laugh, “he just brought it out in me.”  “How rude were you?”  “Well, I jumped his ass for misgendering his partner.”  “That's not exactly rude,” Jake jumps in, “it’s quite the opposite, I'd say.”  “I’m sure he didn't feel that way.”  “Why do you care? You did what was right; plus, it’s not like you'll ever see this dude again. Hell, you probably won't even see his partner again. No harm, no foul.”  My stomach flips at the thought of not seeing Quinn again. We don't have time to unpack that. 

“Yeah, you're probably right. I’ll never see either of them again and, as of right now, he hasn't reported me to corporate. So, no need to stress.”  “Exactly right, bub.” 

I finish up my drink and set the glass down. 

“Thank you, Jake.”  “You don't have to thank me, I’ll always be on your side.” 

I reach out and pat his arm. 

“Also,” Jake starts, “I don't know the situation, but it’s pretty serious if you actually act rude to someone else. So, don't discount those feelings.”  What is he saying? I fix him with a confused look.  “I don't understand.”  “Look, Josh,” he sighs like he’s preparing to explain physics to a five-year-old, “I’m not telling you to get in the way of their relationship. But, if the opportunity to explore this arises, don't let that opportunity go to waste. It’s no small thing that you felt connected enough to this person to do what you did today.” 

“You know, I did tell the guy today that if he doesn't treat them right, someone else will be there waiting. Maybe I’m that someone.”  “You could be, if that's what you wanted.” 

I simply hum a response. Jake has given me too much to think about. 

“I appreciate you lending me an ear, brother,” I shove my stool back from the bar and stand, “but I have chores to take care of upstairs. Text me if you need a hand down here.”  “Will do.” 

I open the door to the apartment that Jake and I share above the bar. Home sweet home, finally. I kick my shoes off and walk into the living room, planting myself on the couch, thinking about Quinn the whole time. Something about them piqued my interest. I can't help but feel that if we’d met at a different point in time, we’d be together right now. That's ridiculous. You've spoken to them for a total of 3 minutes. 

It is true that I've only spoken to them for a few moments, but I noticed them the first time they ever came in while I was working. I've watched them from afar, hoping to find a way to actually converse with them. I was shocked when they found a way to converse with me first. Jake may joke about how I’d hit on anyone, but that's not true. I’m nice to everyone, and I'm flirty with a lot of them. But Quinn is different. And it's unbelievable that I feel that way. I don't wink at every single person I see, nor do I tell them how important their work is. I certainly don't get into verbal altercations defending other people. Verbal altercations are reserved for when someone is talking shit about my family. So, what makes Quinn different? I keep replaying our interaction in my mind. I got butterflies when they complimented my tattoo. I was practically shaking when they pulled me in for a hug. I was angry on their behalf when they insinuated that they don't have people who support them. 

What. Makes. Quinn. Different. 

I never act this way about strangers, but it's as if their soul called out to mine, and mine answered. It's the only way I can explain the way I handled Craig. I called him GREG just to piss him off. I never do shit like that. But he was an absolute chode. He kind of deserved it. I can internally debate whether he sucks or not all night, but it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t speak like that to people, and if Quinn, sweet, curious Quinn, weren’t involved, I likely wouldn’t have spoken to him that way either. Regardless, I really need to find a way to get closer to Quinn. Good job; that sounds so creepy. What I mean is that I feel a soul-deep need to know this person. I don’t know in what capacity because it seems as though I’m entering their life a little late for it to be romantic. Which is what I want. But I could be just in time for friendship. I’ll take it if they truly want to extend the offer, but only time will tell. 

When Craig makes it back home, shopping bags in tow, Willa and I are roughly two and a half sheets to the wind. 

“Well, well, well,” Willa points an accusatory finger at him as he walks through the door, “The prodigal Greg returns.” I can’t help but snicker, knowing how much it pisses him off when: 1) Willa is here without warning 2) Someone calls him by the wrong name. 

“Hey, Willa,” He plastered on a pained smile. Willa turns to look at me, shock written on her face. That may be the nicest he’s been to Willa in months. Craig walks into the kitchen and places his bags on the counter. 

“Didn’t realize you were going to be here,” He half shouts from the other room, “But you’re welcome to stay for dinner if you want.” “Does he even know how to cook?!” She whispers. “He knows how to heat food up,” I shrug. “I’m making Eggplant Parm.” My eyes light up. It’s my favorite meal. “Maybe this is his way of apologizing,” I whisper to Willa.  She rolls her eyes but cuts me a devious look. “That sounds great, Craig. I’d love to stay if you’ll have me.”

“You girls just stay in there, and I’ll have it out in a jiffy.” “Jiffy?” Willa mouths, fighting back a laugh. “Girls?” I mouth back, shaking my head, and Willa’s face instantly sours. She knows that Craig has a hard time with my pronouns and prefers to ignore my identity. This is a regular point of contention in my relationship with Craig and, by extension, my relationship with Willa. I don’t understand why he does it, and she doesn’t understand why I let him get away with it. I don’t understand why I let him get away with it. He is quite literally just a man. 

Willa and I fall into silence for a moment before she grabs my hand and stage whispers just loud enough that Craig may hear. “I bet Stock Boy wouldn’t misgender you.” I hear a small crash from the kitchen, and I clap one of my hands over her mouth. “Stop!!”

I feel her tongue dart out and lick between my fingers, and I let out a squeal. I pull my hand back from her mouth and wipe it on her shirt. “You are an absolute monster. I’m not sure why I allow you to call yourself my friend.” “Oh, Quincy,” she lets out a cackle, “You wouldn’t know what to do without me.” 

I roll my eyes, but it’s true. She is the only thing that has kept me sane since we moved to Maine. She’s my rock. Kind of sad that your own partner isn’t your rock, Quinn. Willa picks up our empty wine glasses from the coffee table and shoots me a wink before heading into the kitchen. Surely, this will be fine. Willa trapping Craig in a room could not possibly cause anything terrible to occur. 

I can hear their muffled voices just enough to make out their conversation. ‘So, Craig. What did you get up to after Gamestop?’ I wince, waiting for his response to that emphasis. Willa has always been phenomenal at telling him that she knows precisely when he’s messed something up.  ‘Oh, uh. I just stopped by the grocery. Wanted to make it up to Quinn.’ Interesting.  ‘You were gone an awful long time to have just stopped at the grocery.’ ‘Mmm, yeah, well. I had to figure out what to make and how to make it. I’m not exactly a chef over here.’  ‘That’s an understatement,’ I wince again. What is she playing at? This situation is already precarious. ‘But, I suppose you get half of a point for trying. We’ll see.’ 

Willa walks back into the living room with two more glasses of wine for us. 

“He’s–” She starts at full volume before I shush her, connecting my phone to the Bluetooth speaker in the corner. Once the music starts playing at an acceptable volume to cover our conversation, I motion for her to continue.  “He’s lying. I can smell it on him. He didn’t just nip over to Hannaford and come home.” “I mean, obviously. He was gone for like three hours.” “You don’t care that he’s literally lying to your face.” “Technically,” I poke her side, “he lied to your face. And no, not really. If he came home and decided to be sweet for once, I’m not gonna question what it took to get him there.” “Quinn,” She says softly, reaching a hand out to pat my leg. “I know, Wills. But, just let me have this for the moment.”

She hums a non-response and drops the conversation. 

I should have questions. I should care. But, if he’s going to be sweet, I’ll take it where I can get it because these moments are becoming fewer and further between. 

“Dinner’s done,” Craig pops his head into the living room, “Y’all’s plates are already on the table.” Willa and I scramble to the kitchen table.  “Thanks, babe.” I kiss Craig's cheek before sitting down. “It looks great.”  “Anything for you, babe,” He beams. 

I see Willa’s lips quirk up in a slight grin and brace myself for whatever she’s about to do.

“So, Quincy. I’ve got a photography project I’m working on, but I need some supplies. Wanna come to Hobby Lobby with me tomorrow?” I let out a massive sigh as the color drains from Craig’s face, and I begin mentally preparing myself to do damage control, but Craig impresses me.  “That would be nice, Quinn. Y’all can get out of the house for a little bit. I’ll stay behind to clean up around here.” 

Willa sits in shock, clearly not expecting that response. 

“Oh, and Willa,” Craig smiles at her, “If you want to stay over tonight, I’ll take the couch. Don’t want you to drive home after you’ve had all that wine.” 

Maybe he’s turning over a new leaf. 

Even if Craig has decided to be a bit nicer after his moment earlier; I still can’t help the little shock of excitement that rushes through me at the thought of being able to see Josh again so soon. I’m not sure what it is about him, but I want to learn more about him. He’s the most compelling person I’ve met in a long time, and perhaps he feels the same about me. 

I’m excited to see if our friendship may blossom. 

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[bordysbae]

“accidents”

luke hughes x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k

you've been best friends with luke for genuinely as long as you could remember. your moms grew up together, and happened to have kids around the same age. your older brother being in between quinn and jack, and you and luke being the same age. since you and luke are so close, everyone always assumes you two are dating, and honestly sometimes you guys act like it, but you’re both always quick to state that you're just best friends.

currently, you're staying at the hughes' lake house. every summer both of your families stay for a month at the lake house, which is something everyone looks forward to. the lake house has nothing but the purest and happiest memories in it, and it's a second home to you.

"y/n go shower you take 20 years to get ready and we wanna leave soon" jack says as he looks up at you from across the living room. "yeah literally, go!" quinn says as he smacks your arm, pushing you off of the couch playfully

"yeah fine whatever, you're both so annoying" you roll your eyes at them as you head upstairs to the bathroom. you start selecting music on your phone as you wait for the shower to heat up. as you finish making the queue, you see the glass doors become foggy, which is your sign to get in. you're peacefully taking a shower, when all of a sudden you see the white door begin to open, and when your eyes are met with the face of luke hughes, you shriek.

"OH MY GOD LUKE!" you scream, immediately covering your body as he quickly closes the door.

"holy shit!" he says with his hand still on the door knob. you quickly finish up your shower and hurry out of the bathroom. as you're walking to your bedroom, which originally was an office/spare bedroom that quickly became yours over the years, you pass by lukes room. which is right across from yours. you see him laying on his bed, and you softly knock on the door frame. he looks up from his phone, and his cheeks go bright red. "you can uh— you can use the bathroom now" you say awkwardly as you quickly turn around and beeline it straight to your room.

you soon finish your makeup and hair, and quinn starts yelling at you to hurry up as you’re putting on your shoes. "quinn i'm seriously gonna smack you if you keep rushing me, i'm literally putting on my shoes right now"

"please smack him, i'd pay to see that" your brother chimes in, earning a playful tackle from quinn. you stand up from the chair, and adjust the tongue of your shoes. you walk into the kitchen to tell the adults that you're ready, and you accidentally make eye contact with luke. his eyes immediately dart away from yours. never before have things with luke ever been this awkward, but you hate it.

"um? that was weird why are they not talking?" you hear your brother whisper to jack and quinn. "no clue man" quinn whispers back. "that was.. something" jack replies in a whisper like tone. you sigh softly and inform everyone that you're ready to leave.

—

you guys all go out for lunch, and usually whenever you're at this restaurant you and luke order the same thing every time, and end up switching plates halfway through the meal. you always order a sandwich, and luke always gets the pizza. it had become a ritual to swap plates, but this time you guys were on opposite sides of the table instead of next to each other.

you know that everyone is confused on what  happened with you two, since you're receiving weird looks from everyone, even the parents. those weird looks are from everyone but luke, he won't look at you. and if he does look at you its for half a second before he looks back down at the ground.

you hate this feeling more than anything. you and luke have gotten in fights before, but at least you knew his emotions during those times. right now, you have no idea how he feels and it's eating you alive. after what felt like a million years, everyone is finally finished and ready to go back to the house. as you're rising up from the table, your mom whispers in your ear.

"are you and luke okay?" "i don't know mom. i hate this" you sigh. "come in the car with me and ellen, we'll force all of the boys to fit in jim's car.” you chuckle, "okay"

you all get situated in the cars, and you're with ellen and your mom. "so honey, what happened?" ellen asks, as she looks at you through the rear-view mirror. "god, it's so embarrassing" you say as your cheeks get really hot from the memory.

"just tell us, we're woman we understand" ellen smiles. “well, luke walked in on me in the shower today. i have no idea what he saw, but we haven't talked since."

"oh my" your mom says, holding back a laugh. “oh lord that is not what i was expecting. okay well, he's probably a little overwhelmed. especially since it's you, y/n. you're his best friend. he probably feels like he just violated you. i think you guys need to talk, because this isn’t something that you guys should lose a friendship over" ellen says

"i agree, luke's a teenage boy. he's probably pissing his pants just thinking about it. you should talk to him, let him know that's it's okay" your mom says. "ugh you guys are the best, i'll talk to him when we get home" you smile softly

—

you guys all get home at the same time, and you decide now is the perfect time to talk with luke. he’s cleaning his room, while the other boys are playing chel. you knock on his door frame to let him know you’re there, and he turns around and gets bright red when he sees you. "oh, uh- uh, hey y/n" he stutters

"can i come in?" you say quietly. "yeah of course, come sit" he says, sitting down on the edge of his bed, patting the spot next to him.

"luke, about earlier i-" "i'm sorry" you both say at the same time

"why are you sorry?" he asks you. "i don't know, i just am" you shrug. "i'm really sorry. i thought jack was in the shower, and i was just gonna grab my deodorant off of the counter, but it uh- it wasn't jack. i knocked and asked if i could come in, and i heard music that sounded like jacks playlist so i thought it was him" he says quickly, defending himself

"luke relax it's alright, but i do have one question. did you um- see anything?" you say scratching the back of your neck. "no i didn't, i closed my eyes as soon as i opened the door" he lied. he definitely saw something, but he didn't want to make you feel anymore embarrassed than you already were, he felt bad enough as is.

"oh alright good." there's a strange silence between you both, which is broken when luke impulsively blurts out, “y/n i like you, a lot. i've liked you since like 8th grade, and i just really need to know if you feel the same"

"oh luke of course i do." you say, with a blush creeping on your cheeks. "you do?" he says, finally looking up at you, with a beaming smile. "yeah, i've liked you for awhile now" you say, looking into his eyes. and before you know it your lips are on his, and your heart feels like it's sparking.

"so what does this make us?" you ask quietly pulling away from the kiss. "my girlfriend?" he asks you. "absolutely" you smirk

"okay now that that's out of the way, i did see something earlier i just didn't want to tell you" he blurted, causing your mouth to fall agape. "i mean, that's not really how i expected it to happen" he chuckles

"woah woah woah, you've imagined how you were gonna see me naked for the first time? you are SO weird luke" you say smacking his chest playfully. "shut up, you know you've imagined me naked before"

you couldn't lie, you had.

"exactly, stay silent." "oh shut up you horn dog, now let's go play chel" you say taking his hand leading him downstairs

[runningupthatvecna]

night drive | part 1

joseph quinn x fem!reader

masterlist

story summary: you're just out there working your job when you encounter a special (and very familiar) client that is going to change your life. for the better, obviously. but should you really entertain personal relations with a client of yours?

general tags/warnings: rpf (don't like, don't read), strangers to lovers, mutual pining, fluff and eventual spice, slow burn, this will be just a small fluffy happy story tbh :)

chapter summary: it's just another day at work. at least that's what you think to yourself when you leave your flat in berlin one morning, yet unknowing that this day – or more like the client you have to drive to his destination – is being surprisingly gentle and kind to you, his personal driver. and the best part about it? he doesn't seem too scared of you wanting to get your daily dose of adrenaline.

cw/tw: fluff! just the overwhelming smol bean sweetness that is joseph quinn really, mentions of driving at high speeds on a highway, very brief mention of throwing up and usage of drugs, y/n mentioned once (1) at the end

word count: 3,9k

a/n: this idea has been engraved in my brain for literal months and i'm being reminded of it every goddamn time i am at work. so i had to get it out, right? jesus, yeah this is gonna be incredibly self-indulgent since i am german (stereotypes apply), but i tried to keep this as non-german as possible so more of you can relate in some way. hope that's alright and not too underwhelming in general. also, please leave me feedback/reblogs if you've enjoyed this so far! thank you and i love you :)

-----

Let's see who's gonna be flying in today, you thought to yourself as you shoved the last bite of your toasted bread slice into your mouth. Always have to have some form of breakfast at least.

Early signs of sunrise were making an entrance across the sky as you downed the last sips of your orange juice, leaving a tickling sour-sweet taste on your tongue.

Thankfully, your work uniform could easily be changed into something lighter and more casual during the summer months, which is why you only had to throw on a linen blouse and a pair of pants of the same fabric, supporting the flow of air around your skin to help keep your body at a reasonable temperature.

Berlin summers could be brutal, mainly regarding temperature, which is why the air conditioned environment you found yourself working in was the main reason for you to feel grateful these days.

Earning the bread while driving people around? And not in a oh god this guy is so drunk he's going to spill the insides of his stomach in my uber kind of way, but being the exclusive chauffeur for important people? Yeah, it could definitely be worse.

Especially in Berlin, where you can be anything you want.

Most people here get lost in the consumption of intoxicating substances while spending their entire weekends at Sisyphos; they have epiphanies about starting a career in dj-ing, before abandoning that idea again two weeks later just to start a food blog or become a yoga teacher. Long forgotten be the actual reason they once moved here in the first place. For studying or something.

There was a time when you used to think that this specific culture was cool, the same thought a lot of countryside kids think before they wave goodbye to their boring stuck-in-1982 German village life, trying to escape the impending doom of getting tied down to the soils of their direct ancestors, and decide to move here.

But the years of seeing what you had seen here had changed your mindset. A lot.

You loved the morning. The peaceful silence and quietness, empty streets when you could still hear the chirping of the birds, before the rush and heat of the hectic city would cast its overlay over East and West, before most people would start their day, trying to make it to everlasting work, meetings, important business corporate tralala on time.

It was something you had learned to appreciate early on after moving here.

Lighter shades of blue creeped upon the sky now, a sign for you to get ready to leave for your first client of the day.

Airport runs, all day long.

The morning shift, yeah.

You wondered how many people with sticks up their ass you would encounter today, since Germans were usually more of the awkward silence type. Some proved themselves to be quite bearable though, engaging in friendly small talk you would always try to initiate, just to break the tension in the air which sitting in close proximity to total strangers could evoke.

Plus, you never knew who else you would have to transfer. Could it be some important sheikh from Dubai today? A South African basketball player? Maybe the ambassador of Canada, though that would require a police escort.

Ever since you got your license, you had always enjoyed driving. You kinda have to get one if you grow up in small town Germany, where there is a bus service going, but only once per decade or so. Driving had to essentially be part of your DNA at this point.

Grabbing your keys and handbag filled with a water bottle, tissues, really good smelling deodorant, some chocolate you hoped wouldn't melt in the heat of late-ish May, and other small and useful things, you headed outside.

A shiny pearly white Audi A6 was sitting in your street elegantly, a bit further down from your building. Not your own, sadly. It was owned by the agency you worked for; however, with the frequency you found yourself driving it, it could be considered your property anyway.

You really couldn't complain. It was the latest model, seat and steering wheel heating, Apple carplay, a grade A sound system, cruise control, lane assist and all sorts of other nice features a modern car had these days.

From time to time the astonishment about being trusted enough to steer this four-wheeled beast in Berlin traffic was getting to your head.

The click of the lock was like music to your ears and you threw your bag on the passenger seat, since the clients you were supposed to transfer usually sat in the back.

Like a cab, but more personal and exclusive.

The warmth of the previous day had stayed inside the car overnight, which made you lightly turn up the A/C.

You had driven the route to the airport enough times to have figured out alternatives when the main roads would be too full with traffic during rush hours, so you were never really late for work. A true German virtue.

The first client of the day was some journalist working for the German broadcasting service ARD and it was your job to deliver them to the headquarters.

As per usual you asked them a few questions, from where they were flying in, how long they'd be staying, if they'd been to the city or even the country before, etc.

Right after drop off in the center, waving the journalist goodbye and wishing them a great time, your work phone received the message with further info for your next commission.

It was always like this. You'd receive a text message with pick up and drop off address, name of the client and their time of arrival at the airport. Sometimes additional instructions.

And yes, you needed to hurry.

You needed to hurry so much in fact, that your brain completely overlooked the name of the client next on your agenda. Your sole focus was on the time, and it became clear to you that you only had thirty minutes to make the distance.

The time aspect was always but thankfully the only stressful part of your job, still you loved it nonetheless.

You could be on the road twentyfour-seven, if one would let you.

Exceeding the speed limit on the A113 only slightly by 19km/h, you made your way back out to the airport before sliding out of the driver's seat. And yes, you had to get into the building with one of those cringy signs that spelled out the name of the person you'd be awaiting.

As you locked the car out front, parked between two cabs not too far away from the huge sliding doors of the immense window front underneath the massive concrete roof of terminal 1, your entire system flooded with the tingling sensation of nervousness.

You felt your heart make five million jumps, heat rising to your cheeks, and it wasn't because the early morning sun was already casting its heat down onto earth.

It was because of the name next to the arrival time info that you only now had to pay attention to.

It was half past seven, ten minutes after his estimated landing time, and you wondered how long it would take for him to make his way through the maze that BER could be and waltz through those sliding doors in the arrival hall.

The thoughts in your head went faster than what you'd just been going on the highway to get here.

You were about to pick up Joseph Quinn.

British actor, one of your absolute favourites. You knew about all the roles he had been working on, before his international breakthrough on Stranger Things' latest season, which is exactly why now, internally, you were screaming.

Your nervousness only got worse with every opening slide of the doors, built into the wall that kept the arrival hall and baggage claim separate, revealing behind it another random person that wasn't him.

The feeling of impatience grew with each passing second, mixing into the blood you felt getting pumped through you at increasing intensity, mingling with the rushes of euphoria and thrill caused by the thoughts of meeting someone you had so much admiration for.

And yet, a yawn escaped you just in the right moment, just when the doors opened for what felt like the millionth time within the fifteen minutes of you waiting behind the little gate.

He was wearing a dark blue cap, flattening down his light brown curls and making them stick to his (fore)head, brown sunglasses sitting on the brim, a white button down with chest pockets paired with light blue jeans and two rather thin silver chains around his neck. The sleeves of the button down folded right below the elbows. A black leather jacket hung over his forearm, his phone in the hand. A small dark blue suitcase on wheels was following behind him pulled by his free hand, alongside a middle-aged woman you guessed was his manager, because she stuck by his side, holding onto her own phone and own suitcase for dear life.

Didn't seem too fond of airports, you guessed.

With the way he was dressing it almost looked like he was here for much more casual reasons, but you were mostly to never driving people around just for leisure.

You could see him scanning the gathering of people awaiting someone, in search for a sign with an all too familiar name on it.

When his eyes fell on you, he smiled, warmly. Approached you, in fact, and with the way this man maintained eye contact, you felt your knees go weaker with each step he took in your direction.

You now understood what everyone that had met him was going on about.

Your breath hitched in your throat, forcing you to clear it to avoid your voice coming out as a squeak.

While dragging in one long inhale, you tried to gather every last ounce of your confidence, praying to whatever higher power there was that neither of them would catch a whiff of your tense nerves.

Okay, okay. Oh god. Okay, be professional.

He's just another client.

"Good morning, welcome to Berlin!" A smile appeared on your lips as you were met with Joe's warm reaction before you went on with your usual routine as your brain defaulted to that, telling them your name, mentioning that you'd be here to drive them to their destination.

"Hey darling, pleasure to meet you", he shot you another warm smile, lightly touching your upper arm right above your elbow to emphasize what he had just said. You just couldn't help but chuckle lightly at his Britishness and his subtle yet intentional touch made your arm almost twitch. And the skin underneath your linen blouse warm up.

Darling.

You knew well enough that it was more of a casual thing for a British person to say and that there wasn't anything to read into, buuuuuut you just couldn't help the way you found yourself attracted to him. It was melting you. You felt warmth spread on your cheeks at his words.

All of a sudden, it became so much clearer as to why everyone's brain chemistry seemed to be altered in a good way after an encounter of this kind.

And to your surprise, your nervousness was slowly vanishing into thin air. His presence, the way he was looking at you all soft and gentle, his entire aura was calming you in a way you just didn't expect to happen at all while being around him for the first time.

The realisation that he was indeed real and just a human being was doing its part, you guessed.

As you lead them out of the building, straight to your car as discreetly as possible, trying not to evoke the attention of any potential fan, you felt his eyes on you.

Okay, let's stay professional.

Sure you had met all sorts of interesting people through your job, and yes, there also had been moments you had gotten a bit starstruck before. For example when you'd met Dave Grohl while driving him to an appointment at Universal the other day.

However, nothing you had experienced at your job had you feeling quite like Mr Joseph Quinn was making you feel.

You were internally dying to ask him a million questions. And you were going to be surprised at how many he was going to direct towards you.

"So, what brings you to Berlin?", you asked after the carry-on's got safely tucked away in the trunk and all of you had settled into your seats. His manager behind you, him behind the seat your handbag was still occupying.

From the address that was given to you, you could already tell what his answer was going to be, yet you wanted to hear it from him and avoid making assumptions.

You set the car into motion, leaving the parking bay to make your way towards the highway, and while you asked your question number one, you briefly stole a few glances at him through the rear view mirror, awaiting his response.

And yes, he noticed.

His smile appeared back on his face, before he started explaining how this trip was going to be the start of him being on the move back and forth between London and Berlin for the coming weeks since he got cast in something and was now set to film said something here.

"I am quite excited to be part of it, actually. It's gonna be directed by one of my favourite directors and I honestly have had my eyes on working with him ever since I went to drama school years ago", he explained further with a nod, another look at him through the rear revealing the small spark in his eye.

You were getting excited for him.

"You must be quite nervous then, meeting him and the cast and all for the first time?"

You were also almost stunned at yourself for how many words you were able to put into a cohesive sentence in his presence.

A light chuckle escaped his chest, "oh yeah definitely. It's always a bit nerve-wrecking meeting everyone. But the excitement about being somewhere new and being surrounded by new people and getting to experience new things kind of balances it out quite bearably."

His deep brown eyes found yours again through the mirror. The eye contact this man was able to hold, even without being face to face with his person opposite, was honestly impressive.

You wanted to tell him. About how you'd seen all of his previous work, how all of his performances always left you completely stunned out of your mind since you were unable to wrap your head around how anyone could be this good at acting and portraying characters the way he always managed to. About how proud you were of him, seeing him succeed and receive things he'd been dreaming of, getting the things in life he'd always seemed to want and work towards. About how you had nothing but utter admiration for him. But you couldn't, because that would mean overstepping your boundaries.

Maybe, just maybe you would say that at the end of the week, when you were scheduled to shuttle him back to the airport.

"That sounds .. bearable", you quipped before continuing on a more serious note, "is this your first time here then?"

"Yes and no, I think I was here one time with school, but that was ages ago. We went and saw a few places, as part of history class, but I didn't pay enough attention back then to remember details, if I'm honest."

He let out another one of his deep chuckles.

Delightful how he was elaborating on his answers instead of keeping them one or two-worded.

"Oh, that doesn't count then", you answered while putting the car in cruise control as you switched back onto the A113. Speed limit was at 120km/h and you intended to stay there this time.

"Yeah, I definitely need a refresher I think, maybe I'll have some time on my days off during the next weeks. What about you, are you from here?"

Why, need a tour guide, Mr Quinn?

Just now, the A/C brought a whiff of his scent around to you, which you hadn't really taken note of before when he had stood close enough while greeting you at the terminal. Sandalwood, bergamot, a slight note of lingering cigarette smoke.

Once again you shot him a little glance through the mirror, which is when you noticed that his manager had passed out with her head resting against the window.

Sleep deprived, aren't we all?

"Yes and no", you mirrored him, "I grew up the South, in an insignificantly small town somewhere between Stuttgart and Munich, if you happen to know where that is?"

Joseph nodded, still with a curious expression decorating his facial features.

A bit impressed at his geography knowledge, you continued.

"I was born in the West, my family's from there originally. But I've been living in Berlin for a solid five years now, so I do consider myself somewhat of a local."

"That sounds sweet. So you know all the good spots then, hm?"

"Oh, for sure", you replied quirking up an eyebrow and then paused when you took the exit onto the A10, just to ask him, "ever been on a German highway before?"

"Not that I can recall", his voice changed into one of a slightly worried tone and you had a feeling that he was raising an eyebrow at you, "um, why?"

"You're about to see, just let me know in case the speed is making you uncomfortable or anything, I can go slower."

You could tell from the expression on his face that he wasn't sure if he should laugh or be terrified about what you just said to him, but he ended up giving you the green light anyway.

You thanked him mentally for the trust he was instilling in you.

No speed limit for at least 12km, aka getting paid to play Formula 1 in real life. Unfortunately, morning traffic crossed your plans of mildly and humbly impressing him (and his still asleep manager), so the top speed for today stayed at a cozy 173km/h. And maybe it was a good thing, getting speedblocked by traffic and keeping you from exposing yourself as a douchey sucker for speeds above two hundred kilometers per hour.

"You must really enjoy driving", you heard him almost mumble, a smile playing on his plush pink lips, almost making the colour in them disappear as it grew wider. He looked as if something in his head just clicked into place and he had come to a realization.

"Oh, what gave me away?"

"I think it's the way you stay so calm and collected while switching lanes at light speed."

His conclusion made you snort a little, the way he said it with such British seriousness.

"It's actually my German genes, you know?", you quipped back at him, without taking your eyes off what was happening in front of you.

You figured Joe would be appreciative of that.

Throughout the whole rest of the thirty minute ride to Babelsberg, a part of the town of Potsdam, with Babelsberg itself being a prestigious area with all sorts of different film sets and a bunch of production companies located at, there was not a single second in which you felt uncomfortable. No awkward silence whatsoever. And you hadn't even have to be the one breaking the ice this time.

Because there wasn't any to break in the first place. It was almost like the two of you had met before.

However, you kept the topics of your conversation on a strict small talk level. Your own level of professionalism was nagging at your brain in the back of your head continuously. You shouldn't be engaging in sharing personal info. You weren't supposed to make and entertain any sort of deep(er) connection with clients.

They were just clients and you were just their designated driver.

So you kept the convo at a strictly friendly brief small talk level.

Eventually you reached the hotel your two passengers were going to be staying at for the time being, and after you had gotten their suitcases out of the trunk for them in the hotel entry way, you actually worked up the courage to ask Joseph for a picture.

You knew yourself well enough that if you didn't, you'd regret it for the rest of your time on earth. And surely this was a once in a time-on-earth encounter, right?

-----

Another few airport calls were awaiting you silently through single respective vibrations of your work phone.

The outlook on the rest of the day was making a rather dull impression on you, not surprising after the morning you just had.

Pick up a medium known German actress and transfer her to the set of a talk show. Some athlete needing to get to the olympic stadium for some training camp. Another journalist scheduled to attend a convention. Another random rich person able to afford private shuttle service asking you to drive them to some hotel in the center.

Your thoughts kept drifting to your (by far) favourite encounter of the day. Over and over and over again.

During your lonely lunch break on the parking lot of the airport's closest gas station, you couldn't stop yourself from grinning at your private phone screen, the few selfies Joseph had taken of the both of you being reproduced on the display and being swiped back and forth by your thumb.

He had swung an arm around your half a head smaller figure, pulled you surprisingly tight into his white button up covering his side, cap still forcing this light brown curls to stick to his forehead, the arm not surrounding you stretched out, holding your phone into the warm early summer air, spinning the both of you around to find the best angle and background with one of his silly little giggles filling your ears.

In one of the photos, a toothy smile spread across both of your faces; another was slightly blurred because his focus was lying on taking you in instead of bothering to hold the phone steady.

Yeah, just a client.

The rest of the shift went the utmost ordinary and usual way. Time flew, which you were thankful for, since the only thing you wanted to do at this point was go home, refresh yourself through showering your warmed up skin in cool water, and keep staring at those photos juuust a little more.

For what would be the last time today your work phone vibrated once more, and the reason appeared entirely clueless to you as you were already on your way home.

A direct message from your boss.

Hey y/n, special commission for you this coming week. You're going to be assigned to Mr Quinn exclusively for the entirety of his stay. He will need transfer between hotel and film set twice daily until his ADT on May 27. I know I can count on you. Cheers and enjoy the rest of your evening.

– Laurenz

The letters of the words became a blur in your periphery.

Oh dear lord.

-----

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