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tkwrites · 10 months ago

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Summer Decisions - Quinn Hughes x ofc

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Title: Summer Decisions - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts

Warnings: Highly emotional, angst. mild fighting, lots of anxiety, swearing, crying, fluff. If I missed anything, please let me know.

Summary: An invitation to his family reunion over the fourth of July has Quinn and Sarah tumbling into a long conversation about their future in the off-season and beyond. Though the ensuing fight is resolved, the reality of their commitments vs. their love for each other is put to the test.

Word Count: 4,600

Comments: I’m back with some highly emotional goodness. This fic was halfway done for a long time until your overwhelming reactions to my WIP ask game really got me in gear to start writing again. I really like the way this turned out, and I hope you do, too. It's, like, 98% dialogue. So if that's not your thing, I won't be offended if you skip this one. But it is setting up all of our off-season fics.

If you enjoyed this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing.

I love Quinn and Sarah, and I’m constantly blown away that so many of you love them, too.

Summer Decisions

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

“My parents want to know if you want to come to our family reunion over the 4th of July. It’s in New Hampshire.”

“Oh,” she said, voice quiet.

“Is that not okay?”

“It’s just a big step,” she said, “meeting your whole family.”

“I’m meeting your family in June, aren’t I?” he asked.

They’d discussed him coming to visit when she went home for a few weeks after school. Were it not for the Canucks making it into the playoffs, she would have bought a ticket for the Monday after her classes would be done. Instead, she pushed her visit back until mid-June, wanting to be in Vancouver to support him through the entirety of their run, however long it may be.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

It was a little strange to her how comfortably serious they were, but she couldn’t imagine life with Quinn any other way. It was that fated belonging she’d talked about so much when they first met. Even still, it was a little jarring to think about him meeting her family or meeting his before they even hit the six month mark.

The phrase, ‘when you know, you know,’ never made sense until she met him. She knew, and even though it felt too fast and scary sometimes, she knew it would all turn out okay.

“So we’ll fly out from Van, what? The night before?”

“I’ll have to fly out from Michigan.”

“Michigan? Why?”

“I thought I told you we train in Michigan in the summer.”

“You did, but I thought… I thought maybe that changed?”

“Why?”

“Because of us?” she gestured between them.

“I mean, I’d love for you to come with me.”

“I can’t do that, Quinn.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t just pack up and move to Michigan. I still have my research work, and if I’m not working or in school for more than 6 weeks in a quarter, it violates my education visa. Not only will I have to move back to the States, I won’t be able to finish my degree.”

“Then I’ll fly you out every weekend.”

Pricked, the old wound split open, and she couldn’t quite hide the annoyance in her voice, “so it’s up to me to fly to you?”

Shit. He hadn’t taken her schedule into account again. “Sorry, no. Of course I’d come here, too.”

The annoyance still fresh in her mind she found herself asking, “why do I have to remind you my time matters for you to take it into account?”

Quinn winced. “I know your time matters. I’m sorry, it’s not fair for me to assume you could just pack up and move or fly out every weekend.”

“Then don’t bring it up again,” she said.

Okay then.

“I’m trying here, Sarah. This is all new to me, too.” He’d never felt close enough with June to figure out a summer situation. They saw each other once or twice when he was gone, and that was enough. Looking back, that should have been a huge sign about the trajectory of their relationship.

“And yet, I assume because I have a vagina, I was raised to take other people into account.”

“That’s not fair,” he said.

“No? Then why do you always jump into me coming to you? Into me changing my plans? Into me inconveniencing my life before you do?”

Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to go this way. This was supposed to be a nice, light conversation about how he wanted her to meet everyone he loved.

“Maybe we should just break up for the summer,” she said when he didn’t say anything.

“What? No!” Quinn sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, hurt and disgruntled she would even suggest such a thing.

“What would you suggest, then?”

Instead of answering her question, he asked one of his own. “Do you want to date someone else?” His voice was hesitant as he braced himself for the blow.

“No. Of course not.”

“Then why do you want to break up?” he asked through the relief easing his mind. “Why would you even say that?”

“Because we won’t be together.”

“That doesn’t mean we should just call it off. Why do you always jump into ‘we should break up’ or ‘I should go’ when something hard comes up?”

“I…” Sarah broke off, caught. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe you should figure that out because I’m willing to put in the work here,” he said, gesturing between them.

“That’s not fair.”

He raised his eyebrows instead of throwing her words back in her face.

“I’m sorry, Quinn. I am trying, and I know you’re trying.” Tears pricked at her eyes, “I’ve just…” her mind whirred, trying to find the right explanation. In the end, as it always did with Quinn, the truth won out. “I’m scared I’m going to fuck it up and I don’t want to lose you.”

Bridging the space between them with one big step, he pulled her against him. When they boiled down to the heart of the problem, they were both scared of the same thing.

Tucking his nose into her hair, he breathed in the calming, smokey scent that was uniquely hers. “I don’t want to lose you, either,” he said. “We can still be together. Just separately.”

A laugh snorted from her nose, and she pulled back, “what?”

“Long distance?”

It was Sarah's turn to suck on her lip. “I’ve never done that before.”

“I have. It's not easy. But I think we're both committed enough to make it work. Plus, we'll see each other pretty often.”

She had her thinking face on as a pregnant pause passed, so Quinn didn’t interrupt.

“What would that look like?” she asked, finally.

“We’d talk on the phone and video chat a lot. I can come see you every weekend.”

“That doesn't make sense, Quinn. You go to Michigan to train and be with family. If you're flying back here every weekend, won't that mess with those things?”

“Probably, but —”

“Then it's out of the question. You need to do what you need to do.”

He felt whiplashed. “I thought you wanted me to come here.”

“Only in equal measure to me coming to you. I won’t let you give up your summer training for me.”

It stuck him how much care and understanding were laid out in that statement.

“Just like I know you wouldn’t want me to give up my research for you. It wouldn’t be fair.”

Still wrapped in each others arms, Sarah rested her head on his shoulder as they thought.

Tucking his face into her hair again, Quinn breathed deeply. As always, that smokey, vanilla scent was so calming to him. He couldn’t ever get it out of his mind.

“This fucking sucks,” he said, voice muffled.

“I know,” she agreed. “I wish it could be different."

It couldn’t. They both had commitments that needed to be fulfilled, and they just didn’t match up.

“I wish I’d known. I would have made different plans.”

“How would you have known?” she asked. “We only met four months ago.”

“Has it only been that long?” he asked. The reality of the swiftness of their relationship hit him full force. “I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

“I know. I do too.”

“I don’t want to go the summer without you,” he said, caressing her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

“I don’t either,” she agreed, “but it’s not like it’ll be five months where we just don’t see each other.”

“Four,” he corrected.

“What?”

“Four months, I come back in September.”

Well, that was a relief.

“Okay, four months. I mean, we already have stuff planned. Let’s talk through what we do have,” she suggested, breaking away from him all together and pulling her planner from her bag. Flipping to the summer months, she lay it on top of her comparative physiology textbook and sat at the table. The urge to make a plan itched beneath her skin.

He sat next to her, leaning in.

“So we have my family in June,” she said, pointing out the 10 days she had blocked out for her visit, “I sort of expected you’d come on the weekend?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. And our reunion over the forth,” he said, flipping the page. “Then, we’re going to Hawaii at the end of July. You can come. I’ll get you a ticket.”

“Hold on, have you talked to your family about this?”

“No, but it’ll be fine.”

She shook her head.

He couldn’t believe she was turning down the option to spend two more weeks together.

“That’s your family vacation, Quinn. I’d love to come, but I don’t want to go inserting myself —”

“You’re not inserting yourself, I’m inviting you.”

“And I’m telling you I won’t come unless all your family is okay with it. Including Jack.”

Even though Quinn had assured her Jack was a good guy and very devoted to his family and would come around once they met, he was still aloof anytime she happened to be around when he and Quinn were talking. Even Ellen had said as much, but Sarah still felt hesitant. Until she saw it from Jack himself, she wasn’t about to jump into an already planned vacation. She knew what it was like having a new person join the family. She didn’t want to make it any harder than it had to be.

Quinn huffed.

“The last thing I want is to come between you and your brothers,” she said gently.

His expression softened. “Okay. I’ll talk to them about it when they’re here.”

“So, it looks like we’ll see each other every three weeks or so, depending on when you come to Nevada and what Hawaii looks like. At least until August.”

Every three weeks felt like too long. He could hardly stand a week on the road, and they weren’t even living together. Yet.

“I’d like you to come out to Michigan,” he said, “meet the guys. See the house.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “And you can come back here sometime here,” she said, her finger circling over a few weeks in August.

Quinn nodded. It certainly wasn’t going to be easy, but it did feel better to have a plan.

“Are you renting this place out for the summer,” she asked, “while you’re gone?”

“I kind of thought you might move in here.”

“What?”

“I mean, it’s just going to be empty, and I’d really like to live with you when I move back.”

She couldn’t believe he could drop such a huge bomb so easily. As she tried to reconcile what he was saying, she repeated, “what?”

“I mean…” he paused, voice and expression suddenly hesitant, “only if you want to.”

Her brain finally caught up, “it’s not that. It’s just…we haven’t even talked about living together, and now you have this whole plan about how I should live here over the summer.”

“I just thought there’s no real need for you to pay for rent anymore, since you spend so much time here anyway.”

“I…” she was struck with the care in that statement, “that’s really sweet, Quinn.”

He beamed.

“But I can’t live here alone all summer.”

Expression falling, he opened his mouth.

“I just —” she interrupted before she lost her nerve. What was one more in a series of already vulnerable conversations? “I’d love to live here with you, but I can’t…I don’t know how my depression will act up if I live alone for that long. I’ve never lived on my own before, and I don’t think a summer where I’m missing my boyfriend is the best time to start.”

The thought that she’d be here alone hadn’t crossed his mind. Not in a concrete way. Like, he knew she’d be here, and he knew he’d be in Michigan, but he never thought about it like she would be the only one in the apartment.

“Oh,” he whispered, taking her hands in his, “then of course not.”

His immediate acceptance made tears rush to her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Quinn asked as she took a hand back to wipe her face.

Smiling despite the tears on her cheeks, she shook her head. “I just really love you.” Her voice sounded full, almost like she had a cold.

“I love you, too,” he said, feeling a little confused, “but I don’t know why you’re crying.”

“Just…” How could she explain something like this? “The way you accept and trust my needs. It’s really nice.”

“The last thing I want is for you to be unhappy, Sarah.”

This brought on a new wave of tears, and she tucked her head into his shoulder, trying to pull herself together.

Quinn still felt a little whiplashed but tried to roll with it, running a soothing hand over her back.

“What?” he asked when she mumbled something into his shirt.

Pulling back, she wiped her nose before repeating, “I’ll have to sign a new lease. It comes up in July.”

“I’ll buy you out of it,” he said as if it was the simplest, easiest solution to any of the problems they’d discussed that day.

“I can’t let you do that, Quinn. That’s a lot of money.”

He hated having this conversation, but it needed to be had. It was actually a little surprising to him that it’d taken this long for it to come up. June had asked him about it a month into dating.

“Sarah, I make eight million dollars a year. I can buy out your lease.”

Her eyes went wide. They’d never discussed money so concretely. She knew he made big bucks. All pro athletes did, but, “eight million?” she asked. “What do you do with it?”

“I have a financial advisor who’s helped me invest most of it,” he said, “and I don’t really have all eight million available all the time. But I paid off my parents and some of our families’ houses, and I give quite a bit to charity.”

She’d seen the way he was with money. He never worried about it, but he certainly didn’t throw it at anything and everything. He wasn’t irresponsible.

Opening her mouth to say something, she found her mind still reeling and closed it again.

The annoyed look he would give her when she paid the dinner bill flashed in her mind. No wonder. He made so much more than she did. All the same, she wasn’t about to become some sugar baby. That went against nearly everything her parents had taught her.

“I still want to pull my weight,” she said.

Quinn was a little taken aback by the fierceness in her voice, “what?”

“If we move in together, I still want to pull my weight.”

His lips pursed, and he held back his initial response in favor of gathering more information. “What do you mean?”

“Like, if I make $80,000 a year, I want to pay whatever percentage that is of what you make.”

“You only make $80,000 a year?” he asked.

“No. Right now, I make $50,000 a year from my research stipend. It pays for my schooling, too, so it’s technically more, but $80,000 is a general base salary for a marine zoologist.”

“You’ve been living on $50,000 a year?”

“Yes, and I’ve been fine,” she said, giving him a look that stifled any follow-up questions he may have had. “My point is that if —” she paused to correct herself, “when we live together,” he beamed and she lost her thought for a moment before continuing, “I want to pull my weight, even if it is just a small percentage of the household. I don’t want to be some beholden trophy wife.”

“Beholden?” he repeated, an amused smile playing on his lips.

“Yes, I don’t want to be some kept woman. A lot of financial advisors that I listen to say you should split the household and each pay the percentage compared to your salaries. How much do you pay here a month? Do you rent? Is it a mortgage?”

“It’s a rental. It’s not really smart for me to buy a place when there’s a chance I may get traded in three years. It’s not enough time to build adequate equity on a home.”

Sarah stuck a mental pin in that to come back to, “and how much is your rent?”

“12,000.”

“A year?” she found herself asking, even though she knew that couldn’t possibly be the answer.

“A month,” he said with an indulgent smile, knowing it was her shock speaking more than anything else.

She wasn’t quite sure why, but this fact struck Sarah harder than anything else they’d talked about. She knew she’d never be able to afford an apartment like this on her own, but this was insane. More than a fifth of her yearly salary went to Quinn’s rent each month. She counted herself lucky to find a private room for under $2000.

“Okay, so if I make,” she paused, doing mental calculations - moving decimal points. Her voice was flat when she spoke again, “one percent of what you do…” She trailed off, looking into his face, “Quinn, this is insane.”

“I know,” he agreed. “I’m happy to just pay, but if you would feel better paying whatever, I’m happy for you to do that, too.”

“So, I’d pay one percent of the household expenses.” Saying it out loud, it sounded so silly. One percent? That seemed minuscule, too insignificant to matter. “Maybe I could pay ten percent? One feels too tiny.”

“Sure,” Quinn said, knowing this was important to her. Unless she was storming in, trying to take over all the bills, he was happy to have her contribute in whatever way she wanted. “If you want to do that, let’s do that. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

They sat quietly for a moment, and he gathered his thoughts.

“I know it’s important to you to contribute,” Quinn said gently, “and I’m not saying you shouldn’t - but I just want you to know I’m happy to pay for things. I know I’m insanely blessed to make the kind of money I do to play a sport that I love. I’d really, really like to live together once I move back. So if that means I need to buy out your lease, I’m happy to do it if you’re comfortable with that.”

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she thought. If Quinn paid off her lease, she wouldn’t have to put off moving in with him or live on her own in this giant apartment or find a place to live for the two months between when he was home and when her lease was up.

She wondered if this was one of those instances her grandmother often talked about. “Sometimes,” she would say while they were cleaning the basement or kneading dough, or working in the garden, “life showers you with blessings. And it’s up to you to catch them.”

She always accompanied this wisdom by shaping her hands into a bowl as if to fill them with water.

Sarah did the same now, pulling her other hand out of Quinns to cup them together.

Eyebrows knitted together, he glanced from her hands to her face.

She giggled and told him the story.

“I should start doing that every morning,” he said, cupping his own hands together.

“Every morning?” she repeated.

“Well, every morning that you’re here. When I wake up next to you, I feel like the luckiest guy alive.”

Despite it being incredibly cheesy, Sarah couldn’t help feeling moved. “Quinn that’s really sweet,” she said. “I feel like that, too,” she paused, feeling like she needed to add a caveat. “And I want you to know your money isn’t part of that. I would love you no matter how much money you were making.”

“I know,” he said, leaning in to brush his lips over hers, “I’ve known that from the start.”

His hands found her waist as their lips connected.

A while later, that pin she’d stuck in for later snapped back into her mind, and Sarah pulled away. “What did you mean about getting traded?”

Well, they might as well have all the hard conversations all at once. “I’m in contract for the next three years, but after that, or even before, there’s always a chance I could get traded.”

The trade deadline had already passed for the season, and Sarah had watched, fascinated, as players were moved around from club to club, like pieces on a chess board as organizations tried to build the best teams possible. Now, she had a new level of understanding, knowing lives and families were being uprooted in the process.

“But they love you here.”

His smile was wide and genuine, “I love it here, too. I don’t really expect I’d be traded anytime soon, but I can’t say never with what I do. I could get seriously injured, or my game could crash.”

She gave him an incredulous look.

“Its happened before.”

“To you?”

“No, but it has to people I know. I really like it here, but I can’t guarantee I’ll play here forever, or even for the next three years. I think I will, but I can’t say for certain.”

“What happens if you get traded while I’m still finishing my degree?”

“I don’t think that will happen, but I guess we’d make it work apart until you were done. Most players get traded right at the end of their contract, so we’d be apart for the rest of the season, and then we’d decide what to do moving forward. If I was moving clubs by choice, we’d decide where to go together. ”

She nodded. “Do you get any say in trades?”

“I think I probably would, but it doesn’t always work out that way. I mean, Bo had a monster year last season, but they couldn’t come to an agreement, and so he got traded, and I know he would have liked to stay. It’s just never guaranteed.”

“How do you live your life like this?” she asked.

He shrugged, “you just kind of have to get used to the idea that things could change tomorrow.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

The concerns his parents had expressed when they were here snapped into place, and a sudden, consuming worry that she might not want this kind of life overwhelmed him.

“Are you,” he paused to lick his lips, trying to find the right phrasing, “I mean, do you think you could be okay with that?”

Even as it was racing with anxiety, the worried look on his face melted Sarah’s heart. It was difficult to reconcile the fact that while it felt steady now, his life had the possibility of being in flux all the time, and that where he chose to work was only partially up to him. At the same time, she didn’t want to be without him. The pull between them was too strong, too fated in a way she couldn’t deny. She was too in love with him to be scared of the reality of his life.

There was only one thing for it. “It’ll take some getting used to, but I think I can,” she said. Perhaps this wasn’t even something she needed to be worried about. Thoughts buzzing, she tried to think of players on Quinn’s level who’d been traded recently. She couldn’t remember any off the top of her head. She’d have to look it up.

He gave her a relieved smile, and she saw moisture shining in his eyes.

“Oh, Quinn,” she said, her hands coming up to cup his face. The course hairs of his beard tickled her palms. “I think I’d probably move to the ends of the earth with you.” The words just fell out of her mouth, and once they were out there, spoken aloud for everyone to hear, she realized how true they were. For someone so practical, it was strange for her to have such a frivolous thought mean so much.

His face split into a beaming smile, and he pulled her into a hug. Tucking his nose into her hair again, he let a few grateful tears fall. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you,” he said.

“I don’t know either.”

A sudden, surprised laugh barked from his chest, and he pulled back with a raised brow.

“Oh no,” her hand went to her mouth as a blush blazed over her cheeks. “I meant that I feel the same way.” Shaking her head, she wondered if she had ever said something so stupid. “You’re the most understanding, accepting man I’ve ever met, Quinn. I’m so glad the Universe brought us together.”

He nodded, “me too.”

Looking into his eyes, which seemed more hazel than usual to the point that she could almost see a ring of green near the iris, the reality of what was coming hit her square in the chest, “this summer is gonna fucking suck.”

“I know,” he said, pulling her into his lap.

Arms around his shoulders to bring herself closer, her feet hung awkwardly off the sides of the chair. Though she knew her toes would be tingling from lack of blood flow within a matter of minutes, she didn’t readjust, savoring the feeling of his solid chest against hers.

The deep breath she sighed out moved her whole body against his. “We’ll get through it together, right?”

Tightening his grip, Quinn agreed.

As the minutes passed, his hands traveled over her back in slow, calming waves that put her totally at ease.

“Do you have homework?” he asked quietly, almost as if he didn’t want to hear the question himself.

“Yeah, but it can wait a while.”

A pleased little hum filtered up his throat, and he pulled her tighter against him.

“Can we move to the couch, though?” she asked. “My feet are falling asleep.”

Laughing, he stood, hands cradling her butt to keep her wrapped around him. When she hooked her ankles around his back, Quinn filed the position away to try later.

Halfway up the stairs, Sarah unwound herself from him. Sure, he was an athlete, but carrying her up the stairs was still taking a toll.

She lay down on the suede couch and held her arms open for him. He gratefully lay on top of her, his head on her chest.

Running her fingers through his hair, Sarah replayed their relationship in her mind. Knowing what she knew now, both about Quinn’s celebrity status and his quiet nature, the fact that he came up to her at all was a miracle. He could have any woman in the city, and he’d stuck his neck out for her. It was overwhelming to think about sometimes. She hoped she was living up to his expectations.

Half an hour later, Quinns phone chirped with a notification, bringing them out of their sleepy reverie. By that time, they’d switched places, and Sarah was draped over him.

“It’s 6,” he whispered into her hair. “I’ve got to get up to make dinner.”

Even as she whined, Sarah pushed herself up. This soft, caring version of Quinn was always her favorite, and she didn’t want to let him go. “I love you,” she said, looking down at him.

“I love you, too,” he said, standing and hugging her to him again before they had to get back to real life.

Her arms tightened around him. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, Quinn Hughes, but I’m so glad you’re mine.”

Tucking his face into her neck, he pressed a few soft kisses there before telling her, “Sarah Roberts, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

#quinn & sarah snapshots #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes oneshot #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey romance #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #qh43

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suzukiblu · 1 month ago

Note

With regards to some older fic posts of yours, I have been wanting to write how much I love certain lines or sections, or just yell about how they make me feel, but I worry that too many comments on older sections of your work might be annoying if you get too many, or that I'll be replying on fics your aren't enthusiastic about at the moment and I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. What would you suggest as the best way to let you know of my adoration for different sections without getting in the way of other things (i.e. not too often, only on Tuesdays, only on the latest post, don't do it, etc.)

(Sorry if this is silly but, I love your writing, and if I get blocked for being too annoying I wouldn't blame you but, I would be annoyed with myself haha)

. . . . . . . listen, I appreciate you asking, and I'm sure that THEORETICALLY someone could manage to comment/reply on my writing so much that I would parse it as them spamming me, but theoretically Elon Musk possesses a human heart somewhere in that black bitter soul of his, so like, the chances seem slim, hahaha.

Legit there is just about nothing I like more than people telling me what they think about ANYTHING I've written, whether I'm actively working on it or not, and frankly getting one single comment on a story I hadn't worked on in a while or had even straight-up abandoned has historically run the gamut from making me go "aw, that's nice, I'm glad people still like it 😊" to ". . . . . . I am immediately going to spend the next six months writing another 120k in this abandoned WIP and actually gd finish it this time", so like . . . BELIEVE me, I am not the guy you have to worry about hitting "too many" with, hahaha. Plus I have so many WIPs rn that I am MORE than used to getting comments on stuff I'm not actively working on and if anything it just gives me a better idea of what people wanna see more of. There are many, MANY WIPs on here that only got past the first thousand words because people repeatedly told me how much they liked them and several that I have only barely progressed in because people just weren't that responsive to 'em. I am just VERY much the type whose writing thrives on acknowledgment/feedback, that is SCREAMINGLY who I am as a writer, haha. Like I am the closest thing to "put comment coin in, get fic out!" you will get in most fandoms, I am pretty sure, lol.

( also-historically, I have only blocked I think two or three Tumblrs in my entire time ON Tumblr and they were all pornbots, so an actual person would have to get prettyyyyy nasty at me for me to decide I wanted to block 'em. like as long as you're not sending me hate speech or death threats we're pretty much good; "too many replies on old posts" is just not a thing that's gonna get me there, hah. )

#anonymous #rintalk

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slimybeth69 · 4 months ago

Text

Que Será, Será

Que será, será -Spanish phrase (que se·rá, se·rá) English translation: What will be, will be

No outbreak!Joel/reader (no descriptions but you have a backstory and are an adult virgin.)

Summary: It's almost twenty years after some weird outbreak almost happened but the CDC took care of that...

Now you're living in Austin, Texas as an adult.

What happens when you meet Joel Miller who hasn't been hardened and ruined by twenty years of murder and loss?

Rating: Explicit- (smut, dirty talk, DD/lg dynamics eventually, BDSM, )

Warnings: Drug use, dirty talk, sexually inexperienced oc, Daddy Dom Joel, darkish (more pervert)!Joel. Slow burn, eventual angst (so much). (So, this is cross posted from my ao3. It's a WIP and I haven't updated in a while, but I'm working on it. I hope you all like this first chapter.)

This is un-betaed, so...beware.

This is the worst fucking job you’ve ever had in your whole life. Why did you move here? To Austin, Texas? Really? You honestly don’t even know. You just needed to get away from your dad. Your mom passed so long ago from that heart attack that…it just was your dad at your childhood home you never go visit anymore. Your dad didn't even really bother you or call you, so you don't know why you felt the need to distance yourself from him by thousands of miles.

Samantha. She’s the reason you moved down here. To be close to your sister and your nephew. She was almost never around though! So what the fuck!! You’ve just been living in her fully finished basement while Samantha and her amazing husband travel the world– she was sad for whatever reason. Postpartum something. Sadness... it plagued her. So her husband Cody packed up whatever weird IT company he ran from home and gave you the keys to the house and said…

“Have fun. Place is yours for six months while I try and turn your sister back into a normal person. Don’t burn my house down.” -Cody.

Cody was great. The perfect husband for her. Your brother Paul lives in fucking Florida like an asshole. Never wants to get married. Lives on the beach all day. Like an asshole.

He is fun to drink with—

Holy fucking shit it’s that guy again!! Oh!! He’s so handsome. He’s old enough to be your dad…but who gives a shit. He’s so fucking hot. OOOHHHH my god. He’s gonna come through your line. The other one is open but he’s gonna wait?? Interesting.

You have all these thoughts as you’re cashing out the person in front of him. This person has so much shit and the handsome fucker behind him just has a caulk or something that comes in one of those pointy tubes. You don’t know anything about home improvement!! Not even one bit! You lied and said you did though on the application. They paid the best and didn’t make you wear a uniform. You could wear jeans and a t-shirt. You had a stupid fucking apron on though.

Like an asshole.

Ohh he’s here. He’s right here and he’s smiling at you.

“Hey, you having a good day today?” You try and spark up casual conversation as you scan the one item he has. He’s been in here so many times in the few weeks you started working here and you’ve said…maybe four words to each other.

But he always comes through your line. This is the second time he’s been in today (through your line)– which isn’t uncommon, he’s probably a contractor. He looks like one-- dirty shirt and jeans. Steel toed boots. Contractors and builders and roofers or whatever come in here multiple times a day sometimes, so, you don’t think anything of that, but you do think about how he always chooses to wait in your line.

“Was, until I had to come back here fer’ this.” He holds up the tube of what you see now is silicone whatever and he chuckles. “Spend more on gas than I do bullshit for the job.” He smirks and your knees go weak. He’s so cute.

“Well…I didn’t mind seeing you again.” You attempt to flirt but you’re so bad at it…you think. You dunno. You don’t really date. Your first and only boyfriend put a bad taste in your mouth when he freaked the fuck out when you told him you changed your mind about sleeping with him. Almost fuckin’ hit you. But you kicked him in the chest and got the fuck out of his car before you had your pants on. Fuck Jackie Harris…cock sucker.

“Wha– oh— rea—” He is stunned to stammering that you’ve said this to him. “Ya know who yer’ talkin’ to…right?” He looks over his shoulder like there might be someone behind him. You smirk and try another attempt at flirting.

“Well…not really. You havent’ told me your name.” You bat your eyelashes at him and bite your bottom lip. He’s blinking at you.

“M-My name?” He stutters again and it makes you chuckle. You nod and look him up and down slowly, then bring your eyes back to his. He’s blushing. “S’Joel." He gives you a goofy smile and you’re blushing now and you don’t even know why. “Joel Miller. Yours?"

“If you give me your number, I’ll–” You start but you cannot finish.

Joel cannot get his phone out of his back pocket fast enough. He unlocks it and hands it to you. You type your name into the contact portion and then type in your number. You call yourself… so he can’t completely ignore you. Even though you’ll never text him first or ever if he never reaches out to you. You hand his phone back to him after you feel yours buzz in your jeans.

“Perfect.” You smile and hand him the phone back.

“You free later?” He raises his eyebrows and his tongue dances behind his teeth, his lips are slightly parted and, again, it makes your knees weak.

“Sure am.” You whisper quietly.

“Well expect a call from me then.” He winks at you and walks out the door.

Shut the fuck up? Who even are you?? You never do stuff like that?? Jackie completely freaked you out about sex and so… you still hadn’t done it. UGH and he’s so much older than you so he’s obviously going to be experienced and he’s going to want that!!

It’s not like you hadn’t done… anything. You’ve had a couple fingers inside you… a tongue on you once… you didn’t feel much of anything so any time some else offered after that you always said no because…why bother? It wasn’t even that good. It’s not like you were saving yourself… not at all. You don’t give a shit about that… you just wanna find someone who isn’t so focused on just that? You’re not really sure. You think about it constantly and over analyze every man who does want to sleep with you until you no longer wanna sleep with him.

Maybe it’ll be different with Joel.

When your shift ends and you get into Cody’s pick up truck he left for you to use while they were gone. You didn’t have a car, so you’re saving for one while you live in their basement…working in a hardware store. Ugh. Life hadn’t been…not nice to you. You worked for a company in Jersey for years until they went bankrupt and left you with no job. So, you needed a change. Couldn’t afford your apartment anymore. Dad was a dick, so you weren’t moving back home with him.

Joel does call you that night. You’re sitting on the couch watching nothing… not even really paying attention to what was on the TV. You were reading some crazy true crime blog that had you afraid to go to bed at night but this was what you did every night. His call scares you but you answer excitedly.

“Hello?” You try and sound super casual.

“Hey. Sorry, I would’a called ya earlier but work ran a lil late.” He apologizes but he shouldn’t be…he’s calling you. You tease him.

“Ooooohh. That sucks. The other guy I called 'cause you kept me waiting is gonna be here soon.” You let the sarcasm drip so he doesn’t think you’re serious.

“Gimmie your address… I’ll meet him there. Scare him off.” He snickers into the phone. You have butterflies.

“Oh I bet you would. Mr. Scowls Constantly.” You tease him again.

“You still asked for my number…sooooo, I must be doin’ somethin’ right.” Joel teases you back into the phone. “What’re you doin’? Can I come pick you up for a lil bit?” He asks with no teasing in his voice now. You’re literally in your comfies. You got no makeup on and your hair is up.

“I look real gross?” You warn him in question so he has the option to back out.

“Worse than you looked earlier?” Joel chuckles into the phone.

“Nevermind. I’m going to bed—” You tease playfully into the phone.

“Nooo. C’mon. I got a joint rolled and we can just cruise for a while.” Joel sounds like he wants to see you. You smirk. You tell him the address.

“How far away are you from here?” You ask, nervous now because he’s really going to come.

“Literally five minutes. I was jus’ workin’ on a house two streets over.” Joel laughs and you hear his turn signal in the background. “I’m on my way, cutie.”

Then he hangs up! And he’s really coming to pick you up right now!! You grab the joint you were going to smoke before bed and put it between your lips as you slip on your sneakers. You give yourself one last look in the mirror…whine quietly because you really didn’t think he was going to call you.. Not tonight at least!! It was like nine o’clock! You came home, showered and just got to reading your blog. Had been doing that trying to pass the time and not look at your phone every two seconds seeing if you had somehow missed a call from him within that time.

Now he’s coming to pick you up… to go cruise around… Oh my god. Okay.

Your phone dings and it’s him texting you that he’s outside.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

You grab your keys and rush out the door. He has a big black pick up— bigger than Cody’s and honestly, you have trouble getting in. You jump up and set your joint next to his in the empty cup holder.

“What’s that?” Joel points to it as you fasten your seatbelt.

“My contribution?” You raise your eyebrow at him and he chuckles.

“Your ass in my seat is contribution enough, pretty girl.” He growls at you and speeds off. "What were you doin'?" He asks as he pulls off your street. You smile over at him stupidly because he is so handsome. He still has the clothes on he was wearing earlier.

"Just readin' some scary shit that makes me nervous." You chuckle and he does too. He has one hand on the wheel and the other arm is resting on the large center console.

"Why would ya go n' do that? Stupid." He flicks his head to look at you quickly before he turns to look at the road again.

"Don't I know it. Stay up all night reading scary stories just to be tired the next morning." You can't stop smiling at him.

"Need me to come spend the night? Keep you safe?" He jokes as he turns up the radio a little. You roll your eyes at him and enjoy the scenery for a while. You weren't close to the edge of town so you're on back roads in no time. He lights his joint and hands it to you once he gets out of town and on an open stretch of road with nothing around…. And now you’re a little nervous. What did you get yourself into… he’s a literal stranger.

“You’re not from ‘round here. I can tell by yer’ accent. New York?” He asks curiously. You shake your head as you hit the joint and hand it back to him.

“Close. Jersey.” You smile and turn your body towards him slightly with your back pressed against the door. Joel looks at you and his eyes trace along the curves of your body.

“S’cute…” He trails off like he has more to say. “How old are you?”

“Old enough.” You smirk. Joel groans. “What!? How old are you?”

“I’m in my fifties. I’m an old man.” He smirks over at you. “You look like you could be my daughters age.” He rolls his eyes and the smirk leaves his face.

“I’m about to be in my thirties.” You smirk at him and then laugh at his reaction when he groans louder. “Stooooooop.” You whine at him and place your hand on his forearm that he has resting on the center console.

When you do that the hair on your arm stands up and he gets goosebumps. You blink up at him but keep your hand on his arm. He smirks and takes the joint from you. He steers with his knee so he doesn’t have to move his arm from under your hand. You slowly start to run your fingertips along his scarred and suntanned skin.

“Feels good.” Joel growls down to you from low in his throat. You flick your eyes up to him, off his arm, and you’re silenced by the look in his eyes. It makes your breath catch in your throat. “Yer’ real soft.” He whispers.

“Thanks.” You sigh softly. It makes him smile– the same goofy smile from the store. It’s so cute, fuck. He’s so handsome. You do not even care if he’s as old as your dad. He is so fucking hot. Jesus. Okay. Composed. You’re not going to do anything stupid.

As you think this, Joel pulls off the road into a little shallow ditch. He leans his seat back slightly and hits the joint again but it went out. He relights it, hits it and then hands it to you.

“You like workin–”

“No.” You cut him off before he can finish while you’re hitting the joint. “Hate it, but they pay me good and don’t make me work late. So…I’ll stay for now.” You smirk at him. “I just moved down here from Jersey actually. Couple of months ago.”

“Oh? Whachya runnin’ away from?” He flicks his eyebrows up once and smirks. You chuckle but… you were running away from being a failure.

“Just wanted to be closer to my sister. She had a baby right before I came down here— as soon as I get here…her and her husband take off to some tropical island or some shit.” You roll your eyes.

“That’s their house?” Joel is still looking at you but you’re looking out of the front window.

“Yeah. Not even my truck in the driveway.” You snort but you’re self-conscious. He’s a contractor and probably doing well for himself…this is a nice truck and he had a nice new phone when you typed your number into it earlier.

“Shit. I struggled with money n’ stuff until I was well into my forties. Don’t let it discourage you. Least yer’ workin’.” Joel shrugs his shoulders and now you want him to kiss you but you’re not going to ask for that. You do start to lightly scratch the inside of his arm though and he twists it, offering more to you.

You won’t say no if he tries though. You hope he does.

“Do you do… contracting…things for yourself or do you work for someone?” You don’t know the technical terms for it.

“I own my own company. Me n’ my brother. Business is good now so I could afford to hire on a couple guys recently. Been seein’ my daughter a whole bunch more. She’s almost in her thirties too. ‘Bout to get married. Real nice guy she’s got.” Joel is smiling. “So…I take a couple days off a week to drive to Fort Worth to see her.”

“Awww..That’s so nice. I love that. My dad’s a piece of shit. So, you’re a cool dad for that.” You smile at him and he’s one thousand times more attractive to you.

“Thanks. I doubt myself sometimes— not so much anymore. I did when she was a kid but she turned out real good.” Joel smiles back at you and moves his arm so it’s closer to you, more stretched out so you can scratch your nails along more of his skin now. You oblige him and he exhales through his nose softly. You smirk.

“Been a while since you been touched like this?” You tease. Joel narrows his eyes on yours. You blink.

“Honestly… damn. Okay. So… can’t be mad at me… okay?”

“Oh god. You’re married aren’t you!?” You exclaim. You pull your hand away but he grabs for your wrist and gets you. He pulls your hand back towards him gently. You don’t fight him…very much.

“I’m not married. Nope.” Joel rubs his fingers along the inside of your arm gently as you continue to lightly pull away– you’re not making any real attempt to get way. “Not even in a relationship.” He shakes his head no.

“But?” You twist your wrist in his hand softly but he just rakes his fingers up and down your arm gently and slowly.

“I do have… a lady… who I see sometimes.” He groans. “She really isn’t anything you have to be worried about–”

“Who says I’m even jealous? I just didn’t wanna be a home wrecker.” You turn your head away from him but keep letting him touch your arm gently.

“I never said you were jealous… I said worried. You said jealous..” Joel is smirking and you don’t even need to look at him to see it. You roll your eyes and turn your head towards him. He is smirking. “Don’t gotta be nothin’ though.” Joel slow blinks at you and his tongue darks across his bottom lip quickly. His fingers never stop moving.

“Why’s that?” You ask quietly. The mood in the truck has changed drastically in two seconds. Like it did when you touched his arm for the first time..but now there is a weird and…not uncomfortable tension but it’s like there is electricity in the air— like you could be struck by lightning!!

“‘Cause if you told me to stop seein’ her I would.” Joel grins again.

“Why? You don’t even know me.” You whisper.

“I wanna.” He whispers back to you.

“Okay.” You sigh softly.

“You gonna keep that seatbelt on all night or do you wanna get comfortable?” Joel whispers to you, pulling your hand up as the same time he leans down and his warm, wet lips come into contact with the skin on the inside of your wrist. You swallow hard when he does that but then he lets you hand go completely. He’s already taken his seat belt off. You’ve been sitting over in the passenger seat like safety Sue!! Looking stupid.

“Sorry.” You whisper to him, your cheeks flushing red.

“Don’t be sorry— sorry for what?” Joel raises one eyebrow at you and pulls a new joint from somewhere out of his door. A little hidden compartment.

“I dunno.” You shrug your shoulders. “You just have a bunch of those ready at all times?” You tease as he lights this new joint. He nods silently as he inhales.

“My brother grows it. Give’s me a good discount on it.”

“That’s real fuckin’ nice. I get mine from some nineteen year old at my job. Overcharges me like I’m an idiot.” You grumble. Joel chuckles.

“We’ve all been there, cuteness.” He hands it to you and leans back in his seat again.

“You could have smoked mine— I really don’t mind.” You point to your joint, still in the glove compartment.

“Respectfully… I’ll never smoke yer’ weed.” Joel curls one arm and puts it behind the back of his head to rest on. His head is turned to look at you. You are kind of offended by this.

“It’s good shit! I don’t smoke–”

“Could be the best weed I’ve ever seen…” Joel narrows his eyes on you again. “I’ll never take anything from you… only give.” He rumbles. In between your legs twinges when he says that.

“Oh..” You sigh softly.

“I like to give.” Joel whispers quietly. “That okay with you?”

“Yeah…” You sigh again quietly and Joel’s eyes soften immensely and he reaches for the joint as you hand it to him. He slowly rubs the pads of his index and middle finger along the backs of those same two fingers on your hand as he plucks the joint from you.

What!? What was that!? Such a small, simple touch and now you’re pussy is leaking!? Are you serious!? Get out of here right now. You’re going to do something so stupid if you don’t.

“Yer’ fuckin’ cute.” Joel shakes his head after the two of you stare each other for a moment.

“So are you. Fuck. So handsome.” You groan and close your eyes so you don’t have to look at him anymore.

“Stop it.” Joel laughs softly. “Jus’ an old man.”

“I like it.” You say immediately. He barely gets the word man out before you’re responding to him. Joel’s eyes scan across your face slowly as you gaze at him. He’s hard to read but…fuck…he is so hot.

“Good.” He stays on his side of the truck and you’re starting to wonder what you’re gonna have to do to get him to roll over here on top of you. You desperately want him. Need him maybe. “Why’re you starin’ at me like that?” He smirks as he hits the joint. His eyes avoid yours.

“You know.” You say this two octaves deeper than you would normally talk and now you’re narrowing your eyes on him. He doesn’t hesitate. He taps the joint out in his little car ashtray and is crawling over the console to get to you.

He does everything. He flips the lever up that drops your seat back, he’s on top of you, his knees on either side of your hips, and his hands on your waist so gently.

“You want me to kiss you?” He whispers softly, double checking that this is really okay. You nod up to him, unable to speak because you might lose your virginity tonight. You’d give it to him. Holy shit. He doesn’t waste another second. His lips crash into yours and both of you open your mouth to let the other in. They are deep, messy kisses right from the beginning. Desperate.

“Fuck.” You sigh as he pulls away for just a second to adjust his knees in the narrow seat. You’d probably fit better up there but…his weight on top of you just feels so fucking good. Everything about it. He smirks before his lips are back on yours. His tongue is so soft and warm and he tastes like weed and mint gum. Smells a little like lumber and sweat. You reach up and run your fingers through his shaggy hair from the back and get a good grip of it in your hands, pulling him tighter into the kiss.

Joel groans loudly, one of his strong, rough, calloused hands slips under your shirt and slides across your stomach softly. You whimper quietly as his hand cups your breast over your thin athletic bra. He squeezes softly and he thumbs across your nipple and it stiffens for him at once. He pulls away and gasps for air. His lips are slick with a mixture of both of your saliva.

“I’ve wanted to do that the first day I saw you.” Joel admits sheepishly, his hand still cupping you under your shirt. You still have his hair in your hands.

“You should have talked to me sooner.” You whisper up to him and pull him back into kissing. He moans softly as you eagerly push your tongue into his mouth and swirl it around his. He squeezes your soft mound again but this time with more force. He pulls way, forces you to let him pull away now and you whine in protest because you just want him to keep kissing you.

“Hey..” He pants softly. “I just gotta warn you that I like it… a little rough… I like to talk real dirty.” He leans down and kisses you again, this time his hips push down into yours and he rocks his back and forth across you. “Fuck.” He groans into your mouth.

You are sure that you’re soaked through your jeans. There is no way you’re not.

“S’fine.” You pant back up to him and try to tug him back down to you but he doesn’t let you. You whine again and make him laugh.

“I’m jus’ lettin’ ya know ‘cause I don’t wanna hurt yer’ feelin’s. I don’t… really think that shit.” He whispers, kissing at your bottom lip once between words. “Jus’ like bein’ kinda mean n’ naughty.” He sighs as he sinks back against your lips. Your hips push back up against his in agreement to whatever he said. You don’t care how he speaks to you. No one has ever really spoken to you during whatever you’ve done.

“Let’s hear it.” You break the kiss long enough to say that before you’re attached to him again. He moans softly and grips your breast harder now and thumbs at your hard peak with force.

“Yeah?” He makes sure, gives you a chance to back out of this if you don’t want to.

“Do it.” You breath out against his mouth softly and now you’re so glad you brushed your teeth in the shower.

“The naughty lil slut wants me to talk real dirty to her?” Joel says in barely a whisper into your mouth. Your whole body reacts to this and you push your hips into his and your fingers tighten in his hair. “Oh slutty lil girl wants this old man to talk dirty.” He grins and kisses you again. His hips dig into yours. He lets out a low groan when he does that. “Fuck.”

Joel climbs off of you and back into the drivers seat. You’re alarmed to say the least.

“What? What did I do?” You’re so stunned and are almost crawling into his lap. He stops you with an apologetic face.

“S’just… a lot. Gotta slow down.” Joel swallows hard and leans in and kisses you again. You both linger but when you open your mouth he pulls away again. “If we keep doin’ that… I’m gonna wanna do more.” He chuckles nervously.

“Like what?” You bat your eyelashes at him. He closes his eyes softly and sighs before he opens them to look at you.

“Whatever you let me do is fine. I’d just watch.” He whispers. You pinch your brows together.

“Watch?” You’re so confused.

“Yeah… just watch you…” Joel trails off.

“Do you just wanna come back to my place?” You ask quietly. Joel puts on hand on the steering wheel and then rests his forehead on the back of his hand.

“So fuckin’ bad… Jesus Christ.” He groans softly. “I just… I dunno. Don’t want you thinkin’ that’s the kinda guy I am… I just had sex with that lady last night.. Would feel weird doin’ it with you so close together.”

“Oh.” You feel a little gross now, honestly.

“We don’t kiss like that.” Joel must sense how that made you feel. “I’d do a lot of things with you I wouldn’t do with her…” Joel is scanning your body again with his eyes.

“Like what?” You don’t care what he does to you.. You’re not sleeping with him tonight… not after that omission but…he could do other things to you. He could stick the handle of a hammer into you and you don’t think you’d care.

“You want me to be real nice ‘bout it or real naughty?” Joel growls softly.

“Naughty.” You whisper to him. He grins and nods to your sweats.

“Put your hand in there and touch while I tell you what I’d do to you…what I am gonna do to you…soon.” He is still growling and speaking quietly. You hesitate for a moment but then slide your hand under the waistband. Joel sighs softly.

“Okay..” Your fingers find what is desperately buzzing and leaking between your legs.

“First… I’d– well.. Where are we? Here or in a bed?” Joel looks down at your face instead of where your hand just disappeared to.

“Here.” You smirk up at him as your fingers slip into the wetness.

“Well, first I’d crawl right over on top of you again like I was..” Joel sits his seat up a little so he can relax but still see your hand. “Do you care… if.. I, um…”

“I want you to,” You know he’s hard. You felt it pressed against the outside of your cunt when he ground into you earlier. You don’t even look as you hear his zipper. You want to look so bad but you don’t wanna seem too desperate. You do wanna see it so badly though. It felt big. Bigger than you’ve ever touched you think.

“So I’d be on top of you ‘cause that’s what the lil girl wants, right? Is for me to be on top of you?” He sighs softly as he speaks and you wanna know what’s making him sigh but you won’t look. Not until he asks you. Your fingers rub against your clit slowly and almost barely because if you touch it with more than a feathers touch and faster than a snail you’ll come while he’s talking to you.

“Yeah. I do want that. Really bad.” You moan quietly as you graze your spot a little too hard.

“Jesus fuck.” Joel sighs again. “Yer’ so fuckin’ sexy. Yer’ voice…” Joel’s voice is… different. You’re so fucking curious to know what he’s doing. You know, you do. You can hear his skin slapping together. You hear him spit now and wonder what the fuck he just spit on but then Joel moans, a real moan with verbrato to it. That makes your fingers flinch and they press down hard against your bundle.

“Fuuh-ck.” You moan softly, trying to bite it back a little but this makes him moan again.

“Lemme hear you sing, little bird. C’mon. Sing for me. I know you can.” He moans to you softly. “Push them fingers inside that tight lil hole fer’ me.” He coos down to you deeply. You do, you push them into your cunt and curl your fingers against your spot.

“Oh fuck. Oh my fuck– Jesus.” You do moan, loudly.

“Push your shirt up, lemme see them fuckin’ tits, baby.” Joel sounds desperate to see you. You give him a show. You push your shirt and bra up to your neck and tug at one of your nipples softly as your fingers go back to working circles around your clit.

“Oh m– Joel.” You moan his name and the sound he makes in response is lascivious. It comes from deep within his chest. You do it again. “Oh, fuck. Joel, touch me… touch me here.” You run your fingers along the mound and hardened peak closest to him.

Joel lets out the most filthy sound you’ve ever come out of a man. His fingers are on your sensitive nub and he’s twisting and tugging like you are on the other side but he’s rough. He pinches and pulls. It pulls a disgusting moan from your throat and you arch your back as your fingers work faster and in tighter circles.

“Look. I want you to see it. Please.” Joel is practically begging through his own moans as he leaves your nipple and now just gropes the whole fleshy mound in his rough hand.

You open your eyes finally and look at what he wants you to see. It’s big…bigger than you were anticipating. The biggest you’ve ever seen in person. He could easily fit both of his hands on it if he wanted. There wouldn’t be much left over but both fists could fit on that thing. It’s an angry red, the tip is almost purple and he is leaking precum.

“I wanna c-come with you.” Joel is staring down at you, his eyes moving between where your hand is hidden and your chest and your face. You flick your eyes between his face and his beautiful dick. Fuck, it’s perfect.

“M’gonna.” You whine loudly as your body stiffens. Joel groans as you moan loudly. The stiffness from you leaves when you hear him moaning and his jagged breathing. Its’ bliss filling your body.

“Such a g-g-good girl.” Joel stutters through his orgasm as yours rips through you. You are not quiet about it.

“Fuck. Joel. Oh my god. It’s so fucking good. Fuck.” You whimper as your hips rock up into your own hand. This is the most powerful and intense orgasm of your life. You’ve never felt this good.

“Yeah, pretty lil slut. You come so fuckin’ good.” He is just panting now as you ebb off your own orgasm. Joel still has his hand on your breast. You don’t care.

“Wow.” You sigh softly.

“Fuckin’ say that again. Made a mess.” Joel chuckles. You pull your hand from your pants. Joel reaches for your wrist. “C’mere.” He growls softly and the next thing you know he’s sucking your fingers into his mouth. He groans against them quietly as his tongue slides all across your digits. You’re in awe when he pulls way. He wipes his mouth with his thumb and forefinger. “What?” He looks at you nervously as you gawk at him.

“Do you… like the taste–”

“Of you? Fuck yeah.” Joel nods and then clears his throat. “I don’t go down on everyone…but I would on you. I’d do it for fuckin’ hours if I could get you to make sounds like that.” Joel is leaning back against his seat. His cock his still in his hand but it’s soft now. He did make a mess all over his shirt. You reach over and with one finger run the tip of it along his still messy and leaking seam. You collect the remnants as he sighs quietly, watching your every movement. “Taste it.” He whispers to you.

You suck your finger into your mouth as he watches but he has to look away quickly. He puts his cock back in his jeans and you frown.

“Yer’ too fuckin’ cute n’ sexy. Gonna get me hard again.” Joel smirks. You blush and wipe your fingers on your sweats and sigh loudly.

“You’re really fucking handsome n’ sexy too.” You sigh again because that was just so incredible. Joel is just smiling down at you, leaning his elbow on the center console.

“So… is this what you wanted my number fer’ or… would you let me take you out to dinner sometime?” Joel flicks his eyebrows up. You blush harder and let your set incline so you’re not laying down flat anymore.

“I would go to dinner with you.” You smirk at him and now he’s blushing.

“You work tomorrow night?” He asks softly.

“I never work past five.” You smile and take his hand when he reaches for you. He rubs the backs of your fingers with his.

“I’m not gonna see that lady again… just so you know.” He says it like he’s nervous.

“Okay.” You don’t really know what else to say.

“Just lettin’ ya know…so that you don’t think I’m tryin’ to be funny with you or anything.” Joel’s eyes are glued to your hand and he’s still just touching.

“Okay.” You’re still at a loss.

“Do… you sleep with anyone else?”

“I’ve never slept with anyone.” You blurt out mindlessly through a chuckle like it’s funny. You die inside. You cover your eyes with your free hand and wait for him to drop the hand he’s holding but he doesn’t.

“Wh– are you ser— no. You’re fuckin’ with me.” Joel doesn’t believe you. Perfect.

“Gotchya.” You smirk and point at him with the hand you had over your eyes. Joel laughs and shakes his head.

“Had me there fer’ a second… but seriously… yer’ not sleepin’--”

“No. I haven’t been with anyone since I moved to Austin.” You nod at him because it’s true. You weren’t with anyone before that either.

“Alright. Just like bein’ safe is all.” Joel shrugs his shoulders.

“I like that you’re talkin’ to me about it. Shows me your respectable… or don’t wanna give your wife another STD.” You wink at him and Joel rolls his eyes.

“Oh shuddup.” He pulls your hand to his mouth and kisses the back of your fingers. “Not married. Divorced almost thirty years.” He whispers.

“Damn… you a bad husband?” You tease. He nods silently and flicks his tongue against your fingers gently.

“The fuckin’ worst.”

thanks to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

#no outbreak!joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #no outbreak au #tlou joel #dirty talk #bd/sm daddy #age difference

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jessicas-pi · 2 months ago

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So, given that I actually have an AU where Anakin and Ahsoka secretly co-authoring a trashy obitine novel is a major plot point, it seemed pretty obvious to me what the setting was gonna have to be for my fic for @sabezraweek's Sabezra Day! I had it all planned out. It was gonna be set in this hilarious No-Order-66 AU, and Luke and Leia and Mara and Kata and Shin were all Ezra's friends in the Jedi Temple and they all totally shipped sabezra and went so far as to write a play based on the Trashy Obitine Novel for the Bi-Annual Jedi Theater Night as an excuse to make sabine and ezra play the leads (and therefore kiss) and...

...well, needless to say, I did not come anywhere near to finishing that fic. So instead, here's a bit of a really old WIP, from an entirely different AU, wherein Sabine and Ezra watch (a holofilm adaptation of) Anakin And Ahsoka's Top Secret Trashy Obitine Novel! (Yeah, the Trashy Obitine Novel is a running gag in my fics.)

------

Ezra sits with his knees pulled up to his chest as he waits for Sabine to get the holoprojector set up.

He’s wearing his dumb Loth-cat pajamas again. He has others, but it’s pretty much tradition by now. He wears the Loth-cat onesie, she wears her hideous green-and-purple pajamas with glow-in-the-dark stars, he’s the one to gather the blankets for the fort while she gets the snacks, they always take a selfie… they have a lot of traditions for Movie Night.

It’s a whole thing now. Once every month, they have a not-sleepover in her room. (They’ve only had six so far, but he hopes this is a tradition that will last until they’re old and pruney.) It’s awesome, because for that single night, they get to be just a couple of goofy kids staying up until exactly 3am. They forget about the Rebellion and about the Empire and about everything they lost and just have fun.

That’s turning out to be a little harder than usual for Ezra today, though.

It’s Empire Day.

It’s been nine years since he lost his family. They’re gone; gone and dead, and he knows that now. But the ache remains, and he’d been prepared to stay shut up in his room all night, except Sabine barged in and threatened to throw him over her shoulder and carry him fireman-style to the blanket fort if he didn’t get moving already.

Ezra knows she’s trying to make light of it all, but he can’t help noticing the worried glances she keeps giving him. In the end, it’s more for her sake than for his own that he decides he just won’t think about it anymore tonight.

So he thinks about something else.

The story behind tonight’s holo is pretty wild. Hera sent the rest of the crew on a supply run into a market town a week ago, and Ezra… okay, maybe he got a little distracted, because he ended up wandering into a spooky old secondhand shop run by a guy (looking back on it, Ezra is 99% sure he was a Jedi) and his creepy wife, where he saw a holofilm case with Mando’a writing—he couldn’t read it, but he could recognize the letters—on it, and as it turned out, not only was it a Mandalorian holofilm, it was also a very very banned Mandalorian holofilm based on a book, and the book was based on, supposedly, a true story. The maybe-Jedi claimed to have known the real-life version of the male lead of the story.

(Honestly? Ezra believes him.)

Anyway, he bought the holo for Sabine (for no reason, really, except maybe a little bit because it would make her smile), and he did not expect the reaction he got (which was her nearly falling over from laughing so hard.) Then she told him that she had read the book and it was just completely terrible, we’re totally watching this next movie night.

Sabine nudges him over and sits down next to him.

“What do I need to know about this?” he asks, as the beginning credits start to appear.

“It’s a Mandalorian holodrama called Tigaanur Te Ka’ra. It’s very loosely based on a novel written during the Clone Wars. Apparently, the film was pretty controversial, because it was a more traditional Mandalorian studio that made it, but a couple of the heroes in this are Jedi. Which is also why I’ve never been able to get my hands on it. I’ve heard it was different—better, than the book.” She makes a face. “It couldn’t be worse. I couldn’t get through Chapter 39. I had to skip it.”

Ezra grins at her. “I didn’t know you liked novels.”

“Guilty indulgence. I bought Touch The Stars because the Mandalorian main character was named Sabine, and she had Jedi friends.”

He breaks into a grin. “Hey, like us?”

Sabine turns her head and stares at him with exaggerated vacancy in her eyes, like she’s having flashbacks or envisioning something horrible, and says distinctly: “There were a few differences.”

He gets enough of the vibes of her tone to understand more or less what she’s hinting at.

“You, uh. You don’t need to elaborate.”

“I won’t.”

He clears his throat awkwardly. “So, is this going to have, um…”

“A racy scene that Kanan or Hera will inevitably walk in on even though it’s only twenty seconds long and the entire rest of the holo is nothing they’d blink twice at?” Sabine offers, filling in the awkward blank.

“Yeah.”

“Heck no. Mandalorian holodramas don’t even usually have kissing. We Mandos show affection by going to war at each others’ sides, and sometimes bonking our heads together.”

Then the holo starts, and it occurs to Ezra that he doesn’t speak any Mando’a and this film has no subtitles.

“What’s happening?” he whispers as the opening scene plays out, showing a bunch of Mandalorians sitting around a table. (Ominous music plays whenever one of them talks, and a mysterious sort of wind-chime motif follows a different one around. Then there’s a heroic melody for a third Mandalorian. Villain, love interest, hero, Ezra decides.)

“Peace conference. Never ends well.”

Sure enough, about three seconds after Sabine says that, Bad Guy Mando whips out a blaster and starts shooting. The Wind Chime Mando jumps up on the table and starts swinging a lightsaber—the Jedi in disguise?

The fight scene lengthens on gratuitously, until finally Wind Chimes grabs Hero and does a jump that Ezra is pretty sure even a Jedi Master couldn’t pull off that carries them out through the stained-glass ceiling.

They escape, and then they stop, and argue, and argue, and argue more. Finally, Wind Chimes rips off her helmet to yell at Hero better, and Ezra notes that she looks a little ragged. Her curly red hair is falling out of its braid, and her face is sweaty-looking. (She’s also stunningly gorgeous, because of course she is. But she is worse for the wear, which is surprisingly realistic for a holodrama.)

Ezra glances over at Sabine and is surprised to see that she’s sitting forward a little, watching with rapt attention. She can understand the dialogue and he can’t, which explains some of it, but she looks invested.

The movie continues on for another two hours—he wonders just how long Mandalorian holodramas are, because they’re not even close to coming to a plot resolution—and from what Ezra can put together, the story goes something like this:

Beni is the name of the red-haired lady. She’s a Jedi Padawan who disguised herself as a Mandalorian to attend the peace conference for… some reason. She rescued Tian, aka Hero Mandalorian, and Beni, Tian, and Beni’s Jedi Master, Quinn, are traveling to an important place that they have to get to so they can do something important.

There’s also been, like, six musical numbers.

Yeah, Ezra’s not really sure what’s going on anymore.

#this is from an early chapter of the promises AU btw! if any of you even remember that one haha #admittedly it's been a while since i posted about it #but yeah in case you were wondering (you probably weren't) that maybe-jedi running the thrift shop was totally quinlan vos #idk what gave me the idea to make mandalorian holodramas vaguely resemble space bollywood when i first wrote this scene #but i have no regrets and think it's very hilarious of me #sabezraday2025 #sabezra #fic snippet #the promises au

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hockey-fics · 2 years ago

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The Summer It All Changed ~ Quinn Hughes

ft. Jack and Luke being idiots

Summary: You grew up with Quinn and for the longest time you really were just friends. But perhaps that’s not all you’re meant to be.

Word Count: ~5,000

Warnings: Smut, drinking, language.

A/N: I barely edited this, it’s not my best work. I’m really just trying to get back into the whole actually finishing my WIPs thing.

You had known the Hughes family your entire life. Quite literally. Your parents were friends and you grew up alongside the three boys. You had been affectionately linked with Jack for most of your life. You were just under a year younger than Jack and your parents seemed to believe that should mean that you two would be best friends. And it wasn’t that you weren’t friends, you definitely were. But it wasn’t Jack that you always seem to gravitate to. It was Quinn who was the recipient of all your attention growing up.

He would pretend to be annoyed, particularly during the middle school years when being spotted with the younger kids seemed like the most embarrassing thing anyone could imagine. But no matter how much he would pretend everyone could tell he was never really annoyed by you.

He was always the one who made sure you were able to keep up when you went on bike adventures with the,. He didn’t get annoyed when you didn’t understand the rules of a new game after a single half-assed explanation from Jack or Luke. He made sure to not let everyone talk over you when you were young and quiet. He was the one who taught you how to skate and he was the one who would fight to let you have input on the movie for movie nights.

Quinn had been there for you during some of the best and worst times of your life.

The first time you got drunk, in a classmate’s basement drinking glass after glass of boxed red wine, it was Quinn who you called. He was the only one of your friends that had their license, but more than that he was the only one you really wanted in that moment. When he showed up you were sitting alone on the front steps of the house, staring at the ground desperately willing the world to stop spinning around you. Quinn took you home that night, helped you sneak into your bedroom. He got you water and the garbage can from the bathroom, knowing you may not make it through the night with the contents of your stomach still in your body. You barely remembered the night the next morning and Quinn never once tried to tease you about it the way you knew any of your other friends would have.

Your first teenage heartbreak was as stereotypical as it could be. You had been with him for a whopping six months, which was quite the feat at fifteen years old. You holed up in your living room with your best friend, a pint of ice cream, and an endless stream of movies playing in the background. It was two days after the breakup when Jack showed up to see if you wanted to go on a bike ride. To this day you still weren’t sure who told who what but the news of your breakup eventually made its way back to Quinn. He showed up that evening and after being let into the house by your mom he hesitantly made his way to you, like you were a feral animal that might sprint off if he made too sudden of a movement. He didn’t know what to say, that was apparent to anyone hearing his awkward statements of condolences. But he stayed with you late into that night, watching movies with you and your best friend, making jokes that lightened the mood and letting you curl up next to him, your head on his shoulder for most of the evening.

You discovered your acceptance into your dream university while your parents were at work and you were home alone. After an ecstatic sprint around your empty house you ended up at the Hughes’ residence, banging on the door like you were in desperate need of help. It was Luke who answered the door, the unwilling recipient of one of the most rambunctious hugs you had ever given in your life. He had hugged you back with a palpable hesitation. After telling him the great news you received a half-assed congratulations. But Quinn was in the room a minute later, barrelling his way to you. He gave you the congratulations you were looking for, telling you he had no doubts you would get accepted and assuring you that you were going to do so incredible in university.

Obviously you had known that Quinn was going to get drafted in the 2018 draft. You knew it was going to happen, you knew that you couldn’t live down the road from Quinn forever. But when you watched Quinn get picked by the Canucks the excitement you had for him was mixed with a sinking feeling. Vancouver. It wasn’t just far it was in a whole other country. The first time you saw him after the draft you put on your bravest face, hugging him tight with a sincere congratulations. You were happy for him, you really were. But you had only kept your emotions in check for a short time that day. Before you knew it you were crying in his arms, confessing how scared and sad you were to soon not have him around. He had assured you he was still going to be around, that it would just be different. And he wasn’t wrong, taking the spot for the person you texted the most for many, many years.

After you left for university and Quinn was living in Vancouver you didn’t see each other much. But there was one thing that you could always look forward to. Summer. After you finished your exams for the year and Quinn’s hockey season came to end you would both return home for the summer.

It was during those summers that your feelings for Quinn truly developed. Those long, hot days were when you realized your feelings for him weren’t the feelings you have for someone who was just a friend. But you never said anything, never did anything to act on your feelings. You were so close and your families were so intertwined that the risk of complicating things scared you out of doing anything.

You were nearing the end of your years at university, after having completed three full years you headed home for yet another summer with your family and childhood friends. This year was different though, this year you were going to be spending two weeks on the beaches of Hawaii with the Hughes family.

It wasn’t like it was the first time you had gone on a trip with the Hughes family. But it was different. This was the first year you were able to drink, legally at least. You were all older now. You had your own hotel room, not sleeping on a cot in a room with your parents. You had a level of freedom you never had under the watchful eye of parental guardians.

“Are we still going to the beach?” you ask, crammed in the elevator of the hotel you had just checked in to with Jack, Luke, and Quinn and about 3 too many suitcases.

“Yeah, what’s your room number? We can meet you there and go down together?” Quinn offers.

There’s a couple snickers after his question, Jack being the one to actually speak up. “Yeah, I bet that’s why you wanna know where her room is.”

“Fuck off,” Quinn mutters, elbowing Jack in the ribs.

Your eyes shift back and forth between them, feeling on the outside of an inside joke. “614,” you state as the elevator doors slide open on the 6th floor. Stepping out of the elevator you drag your bags behind you, heading down the elevator to your room. It’s a beautiful room, one that Quinn had insisted on helping you pay for after you nearly opted out of the trip over the price.

Digging through your suitcase you find a bikini, pulling it on your body before spinning around in front of the mirror, taking in every angle to ensure it looked okay. Sighing to yourself you adjust the straps a few times, wondering if perhaps it was a little too much for a vacation with some of your closest family friends. But before you have the opportunity to change into anything else there’s a knock on the door.

Pulling it open you look up at Jack, watching his eyes blatantly travel up and down your body. “Who you wearing this for?” Jack teases.

Swatting his arm you step aside, letting him into your hotel room. “Is it too much?”

“You mean you have something with less?” Jack chuckles, sitting down on the edge of your bed.

“Shut up,” you mutter, glancing in the mirror. “Seriously, should I change?”

“Nah, you’re going to make some people pretty happy in that.”

“Gross,” you comment, tossing a few beach essentials into a tote bag as you wait for the other two to get to your room. It’s not long before another knock draws your attention and you open the door, gazing up at Quinn with a smile. “Hi,” you greet, stepping to the side.

Quinn’s eyes aren’t as easy to follow, darting around to various parts of the room, not lingering on you for more than a couple seconds at a time. “H-hey,” Quinn stammers, clearing his throat.

“Are you going to come in or just stand there?” you tease, watching Quinn finally take a step into your room.

Quinn freezes again when his eyes land on Jack, glancing back over to you for a moment. “How long have you been here?” Quinn asks, walking over to sit next to Jack.

“Chill,” Jack chuckles, shaking his head. He whispers something to Quinn that you can’t hear and you look back to the mirror, more than convinced now that you should change.

“I’ll find something else to wear,” you declare, digging through your suitcase again.

“Oh my god,” Jack groans, flopping down onto the bed. “Now you need to chill, that’s not what I was talking about.”

“Then what were you whispering about?” you exclaim, spinning back around to face them.

Jack chuckles, still staring at the ceiling. “What did I say, Quinn?”

Quinn opens his mouth to say something, cut off by another knock on the door. “Guess it’s time to head to the beach,” Quinn states, hoping up from the edge of your bed and opening your door, in the hallway before you have a chance to say anything more.

Yanking on a pair of shorts and grabbing your bag you hurry after Quinn. The four of you are approaching the elevator when you wrap your hand around Quinn’s wrist, pulling him to a halt. You wait for the other two to get a few steps away before saying anything. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Quinn mutters with a shrug.

“Obviously it’s not nothing, Quinn. Something is off and I feel weird and….uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry,” Quinn says quickly, eyes diverting to the ground for a second. “I promise it’s nothing, I’m sorry, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“Can’t you just tell me the truth?” you whisper, never thinking you would have to ask Quinn to be honest with you.

“Not right now,” Quinn says quietly. “But I promise it’s nothing bad, it’s nothing you’ve done or anything.”

Sighing you reach out, wrapping your arms around his torso. “I just don’t want this to become a thing, Quinn. I’ve missed you and just want this trip to be fun.”

“It will be, I promise, it’s not going to be weird.”

Nodding you take his hand, hurrying to the elevator that Luke was holding open for the two of you.

Down on the beach you claim a lounge chair amongst an empty row, laying your towel down before sitting down, watching Quinn lay his stuff down on the chair beside you. “Not going to swim with them?” you inquire, nodding towards Luke and Jack as they make their way towards the water.

“Nah, maybe later,” Quinn says, sitting down next to you. “Rather be here with you.”

You can’t help but notice the way your stomach flutters with butterflies at that comment, with the way he was looking at you. Your cheeks begin to flush as you notice Quinn’s eyes drifting down from your eyes to your chest. You contemplate making a joke about it but if you were being honest you didn’t want him to stop and you weren’t willing to risk making him feel uncomfortable it.

“Do you want a drink?” Quinn asks a few minutes later, looking over at the bar not far down the beach.

“Yeah, sure.” Standing up you walk along the beach next to Quinn, the sand hot beneath your feet, a gentle breeze tossing your hair. “What are you getting?”

“Probably just a beer,” Quinn shrugs as the two of you stop in front of the bar, looking at the small cocktail menu.

“You’re so boring,” you tease.

“Well what are you getting?”

“A Mai Tai,” you tell him, simply reading the first drink listed on the menu you were looking at.

“What’s in that?”

Shrugging you laugh quietly, looking up at him. “No idea, I’m sure it’s good though.”

“You’re going to end up hating it and I’ll have to drink it.”

“That’s not true,” you exclaim, though if you were being honest that exact situation had happened many times in your years of knowing Quinn.

After ordering and getting your drinks the two of you head back to the lounge chairs. It doesn’t take long for you to fall back into your typical routine with Quinn. You would talk, maybe a little too much, he would listen intently, cracking jokes here and there. The two of you would break out into fits of giggles, laughing till your stomach hurt and you could barely catch your breath. When you were with him it felt like nothing could possibly go wrong, everything just felt so easy.

The first couple days of the holiday go by in much the same fashion. Wake up later than you should, have breakfast late enough that it becomes brunch. Spend the day on the beach or going out around the city. Drinking begins long before dinner happens and when you finally get around to figuring something out for dinner you’re tipsy and thoroughly warmed from the day in the sun. Drinking rarely slowed after dinner, the location of where that happened did seem to change nightly, from bars to clubs to the beach.

You’re sitting at a table in a bar at the hotel on night four when you lean closer to Quinn, catching his attention. “Will you go for a walk with me? I want to go down to the beach,” you whisper.

Quinn nods in response, finishing what was left in his glass before setting it down on the table. “We’ll be back in a bit,” Quinn says to the others at the table, walking with you down the steps from the bar to the pathway down to the beach.

You walk together in a comfortable silence, till you get closer to the edge of the water, plopping down on the sand. Quinn follows your lead, sitting down next to you. The sand is cool now with the sun long gone, the moon shining off the surface of the ocean.

“Thanks for inviting me here,” you say to Quinn, leaning your head on his shoulder. You can feel your heart racing in your chest, the physical contact felt so much more significant now than it ever had in the past.

Quinn chuckles, setting his hand on the sand behind you, letting you lean further into him. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

“Well thank you for paying for so much stuff for me, you really didn’t have to do all this,” you tell him, lifting your head to look up at him. “I really appreciate it.”

“I would have paid for all of it.”

Laughing you shake your head. “You’re too nice to me.”

“Is that a problem?” Quinn chuckles, turning his attention away from the ocean to look down at you.

Your eyes lock and there’s a silence between the two of you that lasts a little longer than feels natural. “No,” you finally whisper. You let out a heavy breath, trying not to let your thoughts get too out of control as your eyes fall to his lips.

Quinn reaches over, his fingers sliding along the side of your face. It feels so sudden that you nearly flinch, eyes flicking back up to look into his. There’s another long pause as Quinn watches you intently, like he was waiting for you to object to what was happening. But you didn’t, you couldn’t. Leaning closer your hand fumbles along the sand, your breathing shaky.

Finally he commits to the moment, his lips on yours a second later. He’s gentle and the kiss is so soft and slow. When you pull back it’s hesitant, not wanting the moment to end. But you needed to process it just as much as you wanted to keep going. “Quinn,” you whisper, eyes on the sand, nervous to look into his eyes.

“I’m sorry, did you not want-.”

“No,” you interject. “I mean, yes, yeah, I did, I just…what, um…what?” you can’t help but laugh at your stammering, still not entirely sure what you were trying to say, just hoping he would pick up on enough to say something in response.

Quinn chuckles quietly, reaching over and taking your hand. “I don’t know if this is weird to say right now,” Quinn mumbles. “But um, I, uh, I like you…a lot.”

“Quinn,” you breathe out again, looking into his eyes now.

“Can you please say something other than my name? I’m kind of freaking out.”

Giggling you lean in, pressing your lips to his again. “I feel the same way,” you whisper against his lips, not wanting to pull any further away from him now that the boundaries that had been stopping you from touching him like this before were gone.

Slowly you lift one knee over Quinn’s lap, setting your arms over his shoulders. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” you admit.

Quinn has one hand behind him, propping himself up as he gazes up at you. His lips are curled into a soft smile. His free hand runs up your thigh, landing on your hip. “Me too.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Quinn shakes his head with a breath of laughter. “I mean, look at you,” Quinn mutters. “I never thought I would have a chance.”

“Quinn,” you whisper, tipping his head back as you lean in closer. “There’s nobody else I have ever wanted to be with more than you.”

You can feel Quinn’s breath on your lips, his hand sliding up your back as he pulls you closer. Your lips brush against his, the kiss was gentle again, slow and patient. It doesn’t last long as your body begins to beg for more, fingers tangling in his hair as the kiss quickens. Your hips grind down into him as his tongue brushes against yours, your nerves firing with every touch of his hands on your body.

Pulling back you take a moment to catch your breath, staring down at him with eyes full of desire. “Do you want to come up to my room for a bit?”

“Yes,” Quinn replies quickly with an eager nod.

Clambering to your feet you brush the sand from your legs, taking Quinn’s hand and heading back up to the hotel. Behind the closed doors of the elevator Quinn presses you against the cool metal wall, kissing you gently, hands firm on your waist. The ride is short and you’re giggling as you push him out through the open door, every step you take closer to your room you seemed to be gaining speed.

By the time the hotel room door is closed your body is buzzing with desire. You’re frantically pulling articles of clothing off each other’s bodies, littering them throughout the room from the door to the bed. You let yourself melt into Quinn as he lays you down on the bed, pressing kisses down your neck and chest, fingers hooking under your underwear, tugging them down your legs.

A loud breath leaves your lungs as Quinn presses his lips to your inner thigh, slowly moving them higher and higher up your legs. The closer he gets to where you wanted him the more antsy you became, hips squirming on the bed. “Please,” you whimper, desperate for him to pick up the pace. Quinn takes the hint, tongue brushing over your clit as moans begin slipping from your lips.

Moaning loudly you have one hand on the back of his head, fingers grasping at his hair. Your other hand is grasping the fabric of the sheets on your bed. “Oh, fuck, feels so good,” you whimper. As you grow closer to you your peak your muscles begins to tense, waves of pleasure suddenly crashing through your body just a second later.

Quinn makes his way back to your lips, kissing you deeply as you reach down, hand brushing against his hard cock. “So hot coming for me like that,” Quinn mumbles against your lips. Fumbling his underwear off you grasp at Quinn’s shoulders, staring at him with eager eyes.

“Are you sure?” Quinn asks, watching you nod before slipping his hand between your bodies. He guides himself into you, slow and gentle as he watches you closely.

With a soft gasp you grasp at his shoulders, the feeling of him inside you making your head spin with pleasure. No amount of imagining this moment could have prepared you for this. “You feel so good inside me,” you whimper as he thrusts deep inside you.

“Fuck,” Quinn groans, a blissful smirk on his lips. “I don’t think I’ll be able to last long, you feel so fucking good,” he admits.

“That’s okay,” you giggle, pulling him closer to press your lips to his. “I don’t think this will be the last time this is happening.”

“Really hope not,” Quinn mumbles. His hips begin to move faster, your moans increasing in frequency as your fingers dig into his shoulders. “Where do-.”

“Come inside me,” you interject, hoping that you knew where he was going with his question. “I want to feel you fill me with your cum.”

“Oh, fuck,�� Quinn groans, shaking his head. “Can’t say that to me if you want me to last longer.”

“Cum all over me then, is that better?” you tease with a quiet gasp as Quinn’s hips smack harder into you.

“N-no,” Quinn stammers, shaking his head. True to his word you feel him finishing inside you just a moment later, groaning loudly as he rocks his hips into you a few more times before slowly pulling out of you. Reaching over he grabs a few of the Kleenex from the box on the bedside table, quickly cleaning you up.

“Do you want to have a shower?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows. “With me.”

“Yes,” Quinn replies easily, reaching for your hands as you sit up.

After a shower you curl up next to Quinn in bed, your arm over his chest, drawing imaginary shapes on his skin. You try to stay awake, to spend more time with Quinn, but you’re quickly overtaken by sleep in the comfort of his arms.

You weren’t sure what time it was or even how many rounds you and Quinn had gone since you woke up that morning. All you knew was that your legs were beginning to shake with Quinn between them, your fingers tangled in his hair, gasps and moans escaping your lips loudly. But a knock on the door is enough to silence your string of moans and make Quinn pull back quickly.

“Who’s that?” Quinn whispers, looking over at you with wide eyes.

“How would I know?” you mutter, scrambling off the bed to try and find some clothes to pull over your naked body. With Quinn’s shirt and a pair of bikini bottoms on you open your door, eyes widening as you look over at Jack. “Hi,” you mutter, swallowing heavily.

“Are you…okay?” Jack asks, eyebrows furrowed as he looks you up and down. “Oh, oh shit,” he laughs, shaking his head. “Quinn’s not going to be happy about this,” he mutters, glancing around the hallway.

“I,” you begin, glancing behind you as you let out a loud breath. “What do you want, Jack?”

“Are you coming on the boat today or what? We were supposed to meet down there at one.”

“One?” you exclaim, not realizing how late in the day it had gotten.

“Yeah,” Jack states, shaking his head at your confusion. “Also, do you know where Quinn is?”

“I, uh,” you begin before shaking your head. “No, I don’t…I’ll be down in a few minutes, just need to get ready,” you tell him, closing the door before he has the chance to say anything else.

“Didn’t want to tell him?” Quinn asks with a smirk, walking over to where you were standing by the door.

“Tell him that he just interrupted his brother going down on me?” you ask.

Quinn shrugs, hands on your waist as he walks you back to the edge of the bed. “Lay down, I’m not going to let that stop me from finishing what I started.”

You let out a quiet moan, leaning up and kissing him deeply. His tongue is in your mouth and you can taste yourself on him, whimpering into the kiss.

Quinn smirks, pushing you back onto the bed before getting down in front of it. His head is back between your legs just a second later, his tongue sliding along your folds before running over your clit, your hips squirming beneath him. He presses his arm over your hips, stilling them as he quickly brings you to another orgasm, body writhing beneath him.

“Fuck, holy fuck,” you breathe out as Quinn kisses his way up your body.

Quinn presses a quick kiss to your lips before taking your hands and pulling you to sit up. “Should we head down there?”

Nodding you stare up at him with an awestruck gaze. “Y-yeah,” you stammer, pulling yourself to your feet and digging through your suitcase for another bikini and pair of shorts.

The two of you make it down to the lobby only a few short minutes later, your legs not even entirely steady yet. You watch Jack glance over at Quinn and then back to you, eyes narrowing slightly. “Found him,” you declare, looking at Jack as you say it.

“Mmhm,” Jack hums, looking away from you. “Let’s go,” he declares, storming off towards the doors of the hotel. You exchange a look with Quinn, his shrug being enough to tell you to just leave him Jack be and keep going ahead with the plan.

You’re on your sixth drink in the span of a couple hours on the boat, a buzz in your body as you lean back against the hot vinyl seats on the boat. You weren’t the only one who had been drinking, everyone on the boat having lost their sobriety somewhere after hour one on the boat. Quinn scoots a little closer to you, draping his arm over the back of your seat as he leans in, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

“She’s not into you,” Jack declares with a drunken slur, staring at Quinn with a warning look.

“What?” Quinn asks, chuckling as Jack’s statement.

“She was fucking someone this morning, you need to stop.”

“Woah,” Quinn mutters. “How many drinks have you had, bud?”

“I’m not lying, she was-.”

“I know, Jack, now shut the fuck up,” Quinn snaps, a warning tone in his voice.

“You’re in love with her,” Jack exclaims, gesturing wildly between you and Quinn.

You can’t help but giggle at the situation, looking up at Quinn. “You can tell him, it’s fine,” you whisper.

“I was the one in her room this morning, bro,” Quinn tells Jack, dropping his arm from around you on the chair to around your waist, pulling you in closer.

Jack is silent for a few seconds, eyes darting back and forth between you and Quinn. “Oh, shit, sorry, I-.”

“It’s fine, let’s just stop talking about this,” you interject, cheeks flushing.

“Wait, what?” Luke exclaims from where he was sitting on the other side of you. “Are you two finally a thing?”

“No, we’re not really, like, together, but…finally?” you question, turning your head to look at Quinn with a teasing smile. “Did everyone but me know you had feelings for me?”

“Not everyone,” Quinn chuckles, cheeks red. “Just these two idiots.”

“We’re not the idiots here if you two aren’t going to just get together, it’s been like 20 years,” Luke states.

“We’ll figure it out,” you assure him, turning your head to look at Quinn. “Right?”

“I don’t think there’s much I need to figure out,” Quinn says, looking into your eyes. “I know exactly what I want.”

“Me too,” you whisper with a soft smile, fingers squeezing his hand, a silent communication that you were both on the same page. Because at the end of the day, it’s better late than never and you don’t know if you could have lived with never having a chance with Quinn.

#quinn hughes #Quinn Hughes fic #Quinn Hughes imagine #Quinn Hughes one shot #Quinn Hughes fanfic #nhl one shot #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagines #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fanfic

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blackberrysummerblog · 2 months ago

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Hi all! I’m just out here being three weeks late with my 2024 Writing Round-Up, and thank you so much to @monbons, @forabeatofadrum, @confused-bi-queer, @rimeswithpurple, @nausikaaa, @prettygoododds, @ileadacharmedlife, @artsyunderstudy, @best--dress, @j-nipper-95, @roomwithanopenfire, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @imagineacoolusername, @mooncello, and @thewholelemon for tagging me! I hope I didn’t miss anyone, and thank you as well to everyone who’s been tagging me for Six Sentence Sunday and WIP Wednesday this month. Without getting too much into it, I am BURNT. OUT, and it’s making me retreat from even the things I enjoy the most, like writing and catching up on everyone’s beautiful fandom works.

But, I’m determined to make this round-up post, even if it takes me a couple of days to put together. There’s a lot here! Almost all of it was from COC, which I was hellbent on finishing this year, and did! Here’s the list, in chronological order, of all published writing for 2024:

The Field Trap, 1/2 (5272, M) This has been sitting unfinished for a bit, but I do anticipate it being completed. I discovered a real love for Watford-era fics toward the end of the past year, but it probably all began for me two years ago when I wrote Field Trip of Dreams, the prequel to Field Trap. At any rate, I haven’t forgotten the fic, and Field Trap may end up with an E rating in the second chapter.

Time Will Lie Down and Be Still (26,201, M) This is the fic I’m most proud of this year. It’s the result of my COBB collab with @rimeswithpurple, and it’s been such an inspiration to work with Arianna! I highly recommend the experience :D This fic has 3/5 chapters published so far, and I’m getting there with the 4th. I’ll share that Arianna finished the art for Chapter 4 the other day and it is STUNNING, so I need to get my part done! For anyone who doesn’t know, the fic is a retelling of the movie Practical Magic (I’ve never been able to get very far in the book, for whatever reason, so I wouldn’t count on the fic lining up with it). This one is close to my heart for many reasons, but I’ve especially enjoyed building Dev’s character and his relationship with Baz.

Absolutely everything else I published was for COC, and I’ll put it below a cut due to length. Thanks to everyone who read my work this year! As always, the output of this fandom is just incredible, and I’ve enjoyed being able to take it in as well as contribute a little myself. Happy New Year, everyone!

Something Old (1146, T) Simon finds something unexpected while clearing out space in the wardrobe.

Chosen (880, G) Agatha and Simon have just begun dating and Philippa attempts to engage her in a little friendly roommate squee. Agatha isn’t quite so sure.

I Hate You, Never Leave Me (2339, M) Simon and Baz have found a new and better way to settle their differences, by getting each other off all over campus. Will it evolve into anything more, however? (I love this one, honestly. Might have to someday write a more extensive version)

Greek (1565, T) Simon has to keep a very close eye on Baz in Greek class, for reasons.

Let Me See You (1205, T) Simon is the one to find Baz draining a deer in the forest instead of Agatha. His reaction is not what either of them was expecting.

Truth or Dare (2608, T) Does what it says on the tin—the gang play a game of Truth or Dare, and the dares reveal a little more truth than anyone expected. (Definitely not a groundbreaking take on the prompt, but I never really tire of reading truth or dare fics, and hoped readers would feel the same :P)

Gently, Gently (668, M) Simon and Baz spend the morning in bed, skiving off class and not regretting it at all. (I came to realize that an embarrassing number of fics I write either start out with the boys waking up in bed or that is the entire premise of the fic. “Waking up” is a weird fetish to have, but OK me, I guess)

Looking for Knives, Looking for You (1181, T) Baz reflects on all the wounds he and Simon have given each other over the years. (Despite the vicious sounding title and depressing summary, this one was meant to be sort of cute and sweet)

Hold You Safe (1015, G) At the start of Eighth Year, Dev and Niall’s relationship is still very new as they get some bad news from home.

Dinner (Guess Who’s Coming) (3525, T) It’s half term, and Baz’s parents want to take him to dinner. They invite him to bring a friend, but unfortunately for Malcolm, he pisses Baz off first, and Baz decides his guest will be Simon—the Mage’s heir, his family’s mortal enemy, and Baz’s undying secret crush. (As with nearly all my COC offerings this year, this fic was knocked out during my lunch break the day of, and it shows. It really could have stood to be longer and more developed, so maybe I’ll revisit it one day, since I did like the premise)

Stay with Me (878, T) It’s Eighth Year and Simon gets home late and injured from a mission. Baz arrives at a resolution. (I was a little baffled to get a comment about the Mage already being dead, since this fic takes place during the school year and makes mention of a very much alive Mage in multiple places. It was more of a statement than a criticism though, I think.)

A Charmed Life (1449, E) Baz and Simon have an utterly normal morning getting frisky in bed. (Again. Huh.)

A Horse Named Jane (736, T) Simon has that song stuck in his head again. The one Baz can’t stand. They work out a (sort of) compromise.

Sour and Sweet (3060, G) It’s Baz’s birthday and Agatha has just given Simon his walking papers. Oh no :P However, the breakup does little to lift Baz’s spirits. (This one has two chapters and filled two prompts, sour and sweet, natch. Chapter two’s summary is: Simon decides he needs to make something sweet for Baz’s birthday, even though he’s two days late and doesn’t know how to bake. Well, he’s got magic at his disposal, so things are sure to turn out just fine. :P)

Punk (828, T) Baz is making Simon join him for lunch with Fiona again, but Simon figures he’ll debut a new look & attitude. Will they actually make it to the restaurant? (I really enjoyed writing this one. Simon being frustrated with Fiona’s behavior and still being silly with Baz about it was just a happy place for me)

Surprise (733, M) Simon and Baz are engaging in one of their classic Mummers’ House tiffs. What will happen? :P (I did write a little surprise into this one, but it was very much in keeping with some of my favorite themes)

Cast in Fire (791, G) Simon comes to Watford and learns about how his roommate will be chosen.

Fluff and Nonsense (1627, T) The prompt is ‘fluff’ and did I once again take the opportunity to write a light-on-plot secret relationship fic about Watford-era Simon and Baz being cozy and silly in bed? Yeah, I might have. Simon is going home with Baz over the Christmas break. Not a lot going on here, they’re just really comfy and in love.

Pieces of Me (1557, M) Baz has been having nightmares. Simon comforts him and encourages him to open up.

The World Was Open (956, T) Agatha and Niamh attend Simon and Baz’s wedding, and Agatha overhears another guest making a snide remark.

Find Me (2374, M) Eighth year at Watford was unremarkable, and Simon and Baz last saw each other when they graduated. Seven months later, Dev and Niall drag a pining and protesting Baz out to a club for a night of drinking and dancing, but there’s a familiar face behind the bar. Simon Snow is serving drinks, and worse, he’s flirting with a Baz lookalike. What will happen :P (This was yet another fic that could have been developed a little more, but I was still happy with the result overall)

Warm Spell (1795, M) Goatherd Simon has been almost-encountering a beautiful stranger for several weeks now, but one hot summer day, they finally meet.

Lost and Found (575, G) The boys go shopping together and Baz temporarily loses Simon, but it’s all pretty plot-free :P

Truce (1101, M) Simon pesters Baz while he’s trying to study, and needs to learn a lesson. Will they be able to call a truce? (This one was where the trouble began—I changed my settings to allow comments from unregistered users, because I like to fuck around and find out, I suppose. And find out I did! Luckily, the rude comment I received took aim at some writing element that didn’t even make sense for this particular fic, and I quickly realized it was a bot. Not long after, I started getting comments on other fics as well, all very nonspecific to the fandom, characters, and genre. I’m so sorry because I know it upset a few readers who were very kind to clap back and reassure me, and I changed my settings back so that it wouldn’t happen again.)

Savour (1189, T) Simon has been away on one of his missions for the Mage, and Baz has been awaiting his return by leaving out plates of food in their room every night. (Bot’s review: “the worst fic in the fandom”. It’s not even the worst fic in my own oeuvre, so joke’s on you, guy XD)

We Were Always Together (2239, T) During cotillion class, Simon is forced to dance with Baz. The horror! (I flipping loved writing this. Full on had a blast and Would Write Again)

Let It Snow (925, M) It’s almost time for Christmas break at Watford, and it may not turn out as the boys planned. However, thanks to a spell gone wrong (or very right) it may yet work out for the best :P

Always (551, G) It’s Christmas Eve and Baz has just finished putting the kids to bed. Simon is putting the finishing touches on the Christmas tree.

Something New (990, T) Simon and Baz have a little tiff near the end of eighth year, but it’s not fated to last long. I’ve written a lot of secret!relationship Watford era fics for COC this year, some that could go together and some that were in separate universes. It’s been so much fun to write about the boys sneaking around, but this is…something new. :P (In which I was very pleased with myself for how I wrapped things up in accordance with the prompt. I really, really enjoyed COC this year :D)

Thanks for reading! I’m sure most everyone has already made their own round-up posts, but consider these no-pressure tags and hellos: @valeffelees @stardustasincocaine @bookish-bogwitch @facewithoutheart @c0nsumemy5oul @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists @tender-ministrations @basiltonbutliketheherb @ghostpepperworld @larkral @letraspal @cows4247 @fiend-for-culture @palimpsessed @hushed-chorus @shrekgogurt @raenestee @cutestkilla @drowninginships @youarenevertooold @iamamythologicalcreature @beastmonstertitan @ic3-que3n @supercutedinosaurs @stitchy-queerista @alexalexinii @asocialpessimist @shutup-andletme-go @prettygoododds @ivelovedhimthroughworse @j-nipper-95 @wellbelesbian @bookishbroadwayandblind @orange-peony @papierhaikuphoto @martsonmars

#snowbaz #baz pitch #simon snow #year in review #coc 2024 #carry on countdown #carry on countdown 2024 #cobb #Cobb 2024 #carry on big bang #wow I’m even tagging these late #my brain has been mush lately #eep #72327 words in 2024 #40854 for COC alone #31473 words of other writing

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hereghostslive · 1 month ago

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WIP Wednesday

I haven't done one of these in a while and it's because I told myself I wouldn't until I had completed a fic but no surprise, I've grown impatient with my slow as fuck writing pace. so here's what I've been working on.

started writing this on my own birthday because I was feeling sad and depressed and wanted to cheer myself up by writing angsty Tommy and then cheer him up as well. here's everything I have for it. not sure when I'll finish it.

He’s staring at the dark screen of his television when his phone goes off for the fourth time? Fifth time? He lost count after the first few, not interested in answering but too tired to move to turn his phone off.

Besides, he already knows what the messages say.

Happy birthday, Tommy!

happy b day man

Wow the big 4-0, got your AARP card yet?

And probably a

Happy birthday from Diner 54. Get 30% off your meal today!

Okay, that one he should actually open and make use of. The others, well … he doesn’t want to look and see the one message that isn’t there.

He has the day off, which is unusual for him. Normally, he works on his birthday, on account of him not really caring about this day at all. But he had taken this one off because —

“— you have to celebrate turning 40, Tommy, c’mon! It’s a milestone birthday!”

“You just want an excuse to have your own day off,” Tommy had replied, fondly rolling his eyes.

“Well, yeah, sure, but specifically to celebrate you,” Evan had said, like it was simple.

So Tommy had asked for it off but they never got around to making any plans for it. The day on the calendar sat free and inviting without his notice until suddenly he found himself waking up alone on his 40th birthday, with no plans and no one to have them with.

He thought about watching his favorite rom-coms to pass the time today but nothing seemed appealing. Hard to watch and invest in the romantic lives of fictional characters where everything works out and the hurt is only temporary and never proceeds past the end credits.

Tommy wonders when his rom-com started becoming less rom-com-y and more … rom-tragedy? If that’s not a genre then Tommy’s earned the right to patent. He sinks back into his couch, his phone still going off, and keeps staring at his dark television screen. Remembers back to three weeks shy of their six month anniversary when Evan showed up at his door with his favorite take out and a pack of lightbulbs Tommy had mentioned off hand that he needed replacing.

He remembers gazing up at Evan as he stood on top of the ladder, the light flipping on, wholly fixed. And with the light shining behind his head, Evan looked down at him with an easy smile.

Yeah, that was the moment.

Roll credits.

–

There’s a banging in the distance. Tommy’s eyes flutter open; he’s slumped over on his couch, still facing the blank TV screen.

“Tommy! Open up!”

Tommy groans, pushing himself off the couch and stumbling to his front door if only to stop the incessant knocking.

He flings the door open to find Howie, fist raised to continue disturbing Tommy’s neighbors and most importantly Tommy.

“What?” he grumbles.

“Now is that anyway to greet your old friend?” Howie asks, shoving his way past Tommy into the house. Tommy’s still waking up from his accidental nap on the couch, too slow to stop Howie from intruding further.

He closes the front door and reluctantly follows Howie into the kitchen.

Howie opens his fridge and whistles. “Just as I suspected,” he says, and then closes the fridge, spinning around to face Tommy.

Tommy, still waking up, can only raise a single eyebrow in question.

“Your fridge is empty. How are we going to celebrate your birthday with nothing to eat or drink?”

Rolling his eyes, Tommy collapses onto the bar stool at his kitchen island. “Oh, is that why you’re here?”

“Why wouldn't I be here? It isn't every day your friend turns 40!”

Tommy eyes Howie, searching for an ulterior motive. He wants to ask about Evan, if Howie is here on Evan’s behalf, but he doesn't. Doesn't think he could handle a “no,” and anyway, he lost the right to ask about Evan when he walked out of his life.

Eventually, Tommy nods at Howie, agreeing to at least hear him out about dinner. “Okay, so … what are we eating? There's a good Thai place not far from here we can get take out from.”

But Howie’s shaking his head. “Oh, no, no. It's not that easy. Get up, get dressed. We’re going out.”

tagging some bucktommy mutuals: @liminalmemories21 @leashybebes @beanarie @alrightbuckaroo

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #howie chimney han #wip wednesday #buck/tommy #911

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nerdieforpedro · 7 months ago

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Empanadas and Chocolate

Part One of Foul Play Series

Javier Peña x Aria Davis (plus size female OC)

My entire masterlist and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI. I do not consent to my work being used in AI, recommended on TikTok, borrowed or plagiarized.

Summary: The meet cute between Javier Peña and Aria. The beginning of everything.

Warnings: Meet cute, adorable vibes, food, curioisity, (we’re safe this part - we had to start somewhere)

Word Count: a little over 1.8k

Notes: My smut fairy was gone for a very long time. Thanks to @magpiepills and a fic called "Aquarius" that she wrote that was all the right kinds of smutty filth, she inspired me to write this. It's from an old WIP I had started but never finished. Now it is in a completely different direction and one I like. She also beta read some (not the whole thing - gotta surprise her 😘). So here we are. Originally posted on A03.

Main Masterlist/ Javier Peña Masterlist

Together is what he told you. That you’d go on this journey together and help bring peace to an unsettled country. It’s been eight months and neither the government nor the American agencies involved in trying to take down Pablo Escobar were any closer to ending his reign. What did any of that mean for Aria?

Not much, just looking over the balcony of her small one bedroom apartment provided by the US embassy. Her fiance and her had decided on living separately since they were each entitled to their own places. It seemed like a weird idea at first, but the longer she stayed here, the more sense it made. She wouldn't have to hear him coming and going or worry when he would be home. He rarely was, only to have some mediocre sex, maybe sleep sometimes and leave again citing that he was needed back on the case. Aria sometimes was able to finish on her own, but increasingly she couldn’t even do that, getting tired in the middle of things and giving up to read a book, listen to some music and just sleep. Sleep was what she did best.

It was early yet and the sun was just cresting over the horizon, painting a golden pink across the sky, it was barely six in the morning. One positive for coming here, despite all the violence was the scenery, it was beautiful and so were the people, well those she had met. That was two. She sighed and entered her apartment readying herself for work and headed off to the embassy where she worked as an accountant along with four others in a small office. It was cramped but she got to know them well, all nice, sometimes a little too chatty. Her days were similar, rise, go to work, come home, sometimes see her fiance, fuck, sleep, repeat.

It was on a rare day off during the week where she decided to venture to her favorite little shop down the street. Here she didn’t wear the knee length shirt of buttoned up shirt that fit a little too tight, she could wear a flowing dress with sunflowers on it. It was a gift from an older woman a few doors down. She also often gave her rice, meat, vegetables and other foods, hence why her work clothes didn’t fit as well as they once did. Her build was stocky and dense from head to toe though she did have breasts that stuck out a bit farther than her belly and wide hips so that helped, but in her work clothes she was still self-conscious, she knew it hugged in all of the places good and bad. It was always a button down shirt and skirt. She could get away with a polo shirt or sweater depending on who was in the office but more often than not if their supervisor came in and they weren’t dressed appropriately it was a warning then could progress to a write up. So stupid.

Arriving at the shop, she spied her prizes, empanadas and chocolate cake. She went to order as another person placed theirs, a tall man whose skin had been kissed by the sun, wore dark aviator sunglasses, and had a thick head of hair with a mustache to match. He stood with his hands on his slim hips, a rose pink shirt on with medium wash jeans and what was likely a gun along his back. He was cracking a joke with the señora who ran the shop with her husband. The señora asked for her order again as she had lost her train of thought while looking him up and down.

Unfortunately, it turned out that the handsome stranger had taken the last piece of chocolate cake. Aria pouted but little could be done, she hoped he at least enjoyed it, maybe it was a reward to himself for something that happened that day or week? She just hoped he wasn’t the type to eat a few bites and dispose of it. Taking the three empanadas she ordered, she turned to leave as the señora pointed to her and said her name. Apparently, handsome sunglasses wanted to add empanadas to his order but didn’t tell señora when he got the cake. The accountant had the last of them. He walked over with a smile,

“Disculpe señorita (excuse me miss), could I buy one of the empanadas from you? I just need one.” He asked, almost pleading, how much did he need one? Aria raised a counter offer,

“If you’ll spit half of the cake with me, I’ll give you the empanada at no charge.” She raised a finger. He nodded and waved his hand toward one of the small tables with chairs outside where they could do the exchange. He pulled out her chair for her and Aria thanked him, he said there was no thanks needed, he should be thanking her. He’d been looking forward to the empanadas all week, the señora here makes the best ones. To that, she agreed and pulled out the bag with the rolled and fried goods. Señor brought them plates, some water and napkins, insisting that they eat here. Aria shook her head but aviators nodded and assured her he was alright with it as long as she was, that he would make for good company.

“Alright, let’s exchange and eat. Here.” She took one of the empanadas and placed it on the plate in front of pink shirt. He cut his chocolate cake in half and placed it on her plate.

“Here you go. We’re even.” He chuckled, quickly picking up his newly earned empanada and moaning as he took a bite. “Been thinking about these all day…” His eyes were closed as he chewed slowly, savoring the flavor of the onions, chicken, potatoes and peppers. Aria nodded as she watched his mouth, he smacked his lips before taking another bite and another moan left him. It wasn’t long before she wondered if she should be watching this, it felt like she was intruding on a private moment. She picked up water and downed a few gulps before biting into her own empanada, humming with the flavor.

“Mierda eso esta bien (Shit that’s good).”

Pink shirt had momentarily forgotten that he was sitting in public, with a woman no less. He cleared his throat and drank some sips of his water before muttering sorry to his table mate. She shook her head and told him that the lovely couple who owned the shop would be delighted to know he enjoyed the food that much, plus it was fun to watch him eat. Shaking his head, he asked her how long she had been coming to the little shop and in Columbia in general. Her accent sounded similar to his partner’s - American. She told him eight months in Columbia and six for the shop. It took her a few months to get acclimated at work and to the slower pace. She appeared to indicate that she was enjoying herself but there was a large part he knew she was leaving out: the ring on her left fourth finger. There could be a few reasons she could be leaving out that detail, none of them were good for him. She was definitely easy on the eyes, well scratch that. He found her gorgeous, her smile and laugh and the fair trade was definitely a bonus. He would at least let her know his name before they parted. The city of Bogotá seemed larger than it really was. He learned that she did accounting at the Embassy, he told her that he was with the police - didn’t think she really needed to know he was an agent.

“My name’s Javier, Javier Peña. What’s your’s Mrs?” He finally asked as the stood and disposed of their trash. Her warm smile faded with the question. Did that mean she really was married? Peña wasn’t really up for all the drama that came with that even if she did have hips he wanted to see from the back, a very different angle than he was looking at them now.

“No, no. I’m engaged. It’s…I’m engaged. “ Her nod told him she needed to be convinced she was in fact engaged. Usually engaged couples are supposed to be happy. Not that he wasn’t familiar with how that could burn horribly. It wasn’t his business, though he wondered. “My name is Aria Davis. It’s nice to meet you Javier. Thanks for the cake.” Her smile remained warm, he may see her around at the embassy though he didn’t recall ever meeting her before.

“I see. Well congratulations hermosa (beautiful). He’s a lucky man. Gracias for the empanadas. The señor here makes some of the best ones in Bogotá. I may see you if you come again, I’ll try not to take all the cake this time. I usually don’t eat sweets.” Peña explained, it was true he did not. He’s had another failed raid with no new information found and it would be a day that he forgot to get a new carton of cigarettes. He was on his way to go buy some when he noticed he was passing by señora Hernandez’s tienda (store) so he figured he’d stop in and get the food on the way. He hadn’t eaten all day, plus he’d been meaning to come all week. “Today didn’t go so well so I figured I’d get something on my way.” He paused. Did she walk here?

“Do you need a ride home, Aria?” He tilted his head in the direction of his car to which Aria shook her head.

“Oh no I live close by. Thank you though. I’m going home after this. Just going to relax a bit before work tomorrow.” Aria’s smile didn’t falter and Javier was curious, shouldn’t she be mentioning spending time with her fiancée? He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a bent card. He handed it to her and she took it reading it over, her eyes revealed her surprise but she didn’t mention that she’d heard of him. Aria assumed he didn’t want to talk about it.

“Here’s my card just in case. Bogotá is beautiful but can be dangerous. Call me if you need help okay?” The nod and grin that followed made her giggle. “I’ll come running and may speed a bit.” Javier cracked a small joke, it was a bad though but she didn’t seem to mind.

“I’ll remember that Javier. I do pretty well at staying out of trouble though.”

“Trouble has a way of finding people Aria.” Peña took a step closer and spoke in her ear. “Call me Javi. Stay safe hermosa.” With that he turned and walked to his car, getting in and waving to her before putting one hand on the steering wheel and driving off.

Aria was left standing with Javier’s lingering words and his breath on her ear. The food in her belly wasn’t the only thing heating it from within. Peña wasn’t wrong. Trouble had found her.

Part Two

Dipping their empanadas in chocolate for Javi to lick off 🍫: @syd-djarin @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @guelyury

@yorksgirl @indiegirlunited @readingiskeepingmegoing @fhatbhabiee @javierpena-inatacvest

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier peña #javier peña x ofc #javier peña x plus size ofc #nerdieforpedro #a short series

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oros-ash3s · 3 days ago

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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 vampy (👀👀)

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 evil twin shenanigans (>:3333)

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 kageko.. AUGHHH (kageko huh... 👀)

Any one of these and/or the jeremiah happy au?

thanks for the ask!! I decided to do all of them since I’ve been WAITING to leak some of my wips (which may well take months to finish).

“Vampy” is my silly docs title that I have put in place for the first chapter of “What Lies Below”. I haven’t gotten too far with the actual chapter because I was writing it right around the time Febuwhump came around, but I have a pretty good idea of where I want the scene to go.

Here’s some excerpts from that:

Elmira finds herself staring at the face of a ghost.

The boy in front of her is not one she recognizes. The person she once knew, the grinning little girl with bouncy black waves and rosy cheeks, a joke always on the tip of her tongue, has been very evidently replaced. Everything that she would have been able to hold onto, the little mannerisms and quirks that might have brought her spinning back into the past, six years of separation fixed within a blink, are gone. They have been carefully removed, picked and prodded apart, until she is left with no more than a young man who she assumes must be her sister — must have once been her sister — standing before her, a blank look on his face.

She searches him for some sort of recognition, some sort of warmth. Searches past the tattoos and the piercings, the choppy, frayed bleached hair and the sharply-lined mismatched eyes. Searches, desperate, for the girl she raised. The girl she loved.

She is met with nothing.

.༉‧₊˚

“Because she’s your sister!” Elmira screams, raw. There are tears she’s tried so desperately to force back this entire encounter springing up in her eyes. Tears that she knows, once they start, won’t stop. She stares at the ghost across from her with confused desperation. This terrible want. It’s consuming her, swallowing her whole. It’s this very thing that’s been eating away inside of her for so many years, and she fears if he doesn’t do this, it will threaten to absorb her entirely. “She’s your family and she needs you. Please!”

“Family?” His eyes narrow, voice dipping low, danger lingering near the surface. “Because she’s my family?”

A deadly grin twists across his face, warping his near-perfect features. His alien features, features that Elmira is sure cannot have belonged to her own sister. He barks out a laugh, cackling without mirth. There is nothing but anger present inside him now, thrumming from his figure, evident in the tenseness of his posture. “Thats a lie and you fuckin’ know it, Koroleva.” He hisses, stepping close to her. He’s kept his distance up until now, hung back; not allowing her to get even an inch near him. But now he is only inches away, staring down at her with his hands clenched, teeth bared. “Family doesn’t count. It hasn’t counted for a fucking second, not in any of your eyes. I’m not your family. I haven’t been since you cast me out, since you left me for dead.”

His eyes flick to the body limp in her heavy arms, a sneer pulling at his lips. “And she…..” He lets out another laugh, voice dropping to only a whisper. “She definitely isn’t my fucking sister.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

“Kageko.. AUGHHH” is also a silly docs title for a REALLLYY old drabble I have from like, 2022 with Kageko and Ryuji.

It’s supposed to show a snippet of their backstory, and was from when Kageko was a lot more malicious towards Ryuji. I think it’s good to represent how much Kageko contributes to Ryuji’s deteriorating mental state. This is from my WIP Metamorphosis, for those who don’t know.

Here’s an excerpt of that:

Ryuji gasped, bolting upright. Sweat was sticky on his skin, slicked down the nape of his neck. He glanced around his room in alarm, his surroundings finally taking focus in the dark. Moonlight filtered through the window, shining against the dark wooden floorboards.

He was sitting in his bed, in the Seventh Sector, at home, blankets entangled tightly around his legs. His chest was heaving; quick, strained breaths wheezing in and out of his lungs. His body felt icy and cold, fear twisting inside his gut, seizing his muscles. His eyes were brimming with tears, and when he reached up, furiously rubbing at them, he could feel his face was already wet.

Ryuji trembled, trying to get his breathing back under control. Stop his scarred hands from shaking so badly. Stop the fucking sobs that he was so desperately trying to hold back.

In the corner of their room, He was standing, upright and still, blending completely in but utterly out of place. He looked eighteen, even though Ryuji was positive the last they’d seen him — really seen him, not waking up alone, in the middle of the night, bridging on a panic attack from another nightmare — was twelve years ago, when he was six. Like usual, he glared at him with cruel, dark eyes, smiling as blood poured from his mouth, down his chin, puddling onto the floor and inching its way around him and towards Ryuji.

He just wanted him to fucking leave him alone, for once. He sighed, hunching his shoulders and putting his head in his hands. He rubbed his eyes, exhaustion settling in, even though he knew there was no way he was going to be getting any sleep after that. Not when He was there, staring at him in the corner. Not when the twitch in his fingers still wouldn’t go away, and his chest was still tight, shaky breaths coming out in huffs.

“You know,” Ryuji muttered under his breath, voice barely above a whisper. “Sometimes I think I wasn’t the one who was spared…” He stared up at him through the cracks of his fingers, as his expression twisted into a deformed grin, flashing a row of crooked teeth caked with black blood.

“But you.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

“Evil twin shenanigans” is a drabble I have planned for Odesa and Kageko, which takes place in between Febuwhump Day 11 and Febuwhump Day 12. This one is also from my WIP Metamorphosis.

Here is an excerpt from that:

Ryuji laughs. He genuinely and truly, laughs. Falling to his knees, a wide grin splitting across his bandaged face, he laughs. It is a foreign sound, one Odesa has never heard fall from his lips. Not with such ecstatic glee, with such careless joy. He is not tense nor stiff, posture relaxed, like the worries lying upon his shoulders have simply dissipated.

“Holy fucking shit!” He cackles, hands brushing over the blades of grass with a sort of reverence that Odesa is sure no one has seen within the four walls of the Seventh Sector before. No one inside here could ever look so simply happy at something that is truly so basic, so ordinary. Yet Ryuji, her Ryuji, the Ryuji who has been holed up inside his room for weeks on end, dead to the world; the Ryuji who cannot make himself see any of the wonders of their universe, who does not find joy in even the simplest of things, is laughing and giggling as he pulls up chunks of grass, feeling it beneath his fingertips as if it is the best thing he has ever witnessed.

“Oh my god, oh my god—” he grins, rolling onto his back and wiggling on the ground, genuinely wiggling. He rolls and laughs with unrestrained delight, smiling and basking in the soft heat of the sun. It is as if nothing matters anymore, as if all his troubles have vanished. Like the sudden spring that has pushed through the borders of the Sector has rejuvenated him, given him new life. “Des, Des— Odesa, you… you have to see this!!”

He bounces up in place, body vibrating with energy. A crooked smile is flashed in her direction as he grips her wrist, shoving a half-crushed weed into her palm. “Look!”

Odesa is not quite sure what she is supposed to be looking at. She is not sure if she’s even staring at her boyfriend at all.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

The Jeremiah AU title is a little bit misleading because it’s not exactly a happy lovey-dovey au (I love angst what can I say). But the basic premise is that it’s the main plotline of The Chrysalis, only instead of Alastair leaving the church and Jeremiah becoming a secondary villain, Jeremiah is one of the primary protagonists and a rebel.

It’s personally my favourite AU of ours because it shows off Atlas and Jeremiah’s relationship in a new light, and how they could’ve been friends, in different circumstances. It also changes a lot of the character dynamics (especially with Alastair) which is very interesting as well!!

Here’s some excerpts from that, co-written with @ohagiwrites:

“BULLSHIT.” Atlas yells, face flushed and body raised as if he’s about to jump Jeremiah. “Don’t fucking lie to me! I’ve seen what the Congregation does to Magicae! The only ones who are equal are the ones they deem to be fucking holy!” With every word his voice only raises. “I’ve only ever killed bad people. I’ve only ever killed when it’s absolutely necessary! I’m NOTHING like you.”

Jeremiah’s hands are hot as he barely restrains himself from sending out a burst of light straight towards Atlas. “You know nothing of our mission! The church grows because we accept all Magicae! Not just the ones we can use. We’d never take precious Magicae blood and lock them away! Use them as objects!” Jeremiah’s hands are shaking now, Alastair’s muttered pleas for retreat falling dead upon his ears as he throws his arms in the air. “And that’s a fucking excuse! You kill anyone who threatens to reveal Magicae! Anyone who wants us to take our rightful place above the humans!”

“LIAR! You’re a liar, just like the rest of your precious fucking church! Don’t tell me the church would never harm Magicae when I’ve witnessed it firsthand! I’m not a fucking fool, I know what I saw!” Atlas screams. He’s raw, unconstrained. Venom is spitting out of him, directed straight at Jeremiah. “The Congregation is a million times worse than Eden. At least Eden tries to protect people from the massacres that each of you causes, day in and day out! At least they have some sense of order, of control! All the Congregation does is bring destruction and chaos! All for your little fake fucking God whom you love so much! And you don’t even care if it means hurting your own kind, as long as it ‘pleases him’! It’s fucking disgusting!”

When Atlas starts to get up, Wren quickly latches onto his arm, desperately trying to pull him back down. “Atlas,” they plead in a soft voice. “Let’s just take a break. Cool off, okay?”

Jeremiah blood boils, his face hot, vision blurred. “How dare you! How dare you say something you know nothing about! You don’t know anything! You’re just some fucking-”

Jeremiah’s words die in his throat as Alastair stands, gripping his shoulders and spinning Jeremiah to face him. “Jeremiah, that’s enough.” Without his glasses on to soften the edges, his little brother’s eyes are sharp and stern. He looks almost angry. Not quite, but it’s close enough to make Jeremiah’s heart sink. Alastair’s never been angry with him.

.༉‧₊˚

Tears slip down Jeremiah’s cheeks when Alastair flinches at his touch, and he has to choke back a sob. He squeezes his eyes shut, sucking in a sharp breath. “Alastair, you’re my little brother.” He whispers, hating himself for not realizing how hurt Alastair really was from the Congregation. How little he thought of himself. “I’d give up everything in a heartbeat, if it meant that I could be at your side. I don’t want anything else except you. If you aren’t with me then it isn’t worth it.” He squeezes his hand tighter.

Alastair looks up again, startled by the noise that comes from the back of Jeremiah’s throat. An unknown emotion flickers past his face, so quick Jeremiah almost misses it, and then Alastair is squeezing his eyes shut again, as if he can’t dare to look his brother in the eye. “But you shouldn’t have to,” he whispers. “You shouldn’t have to now and I wouldn’t have you wanted you to back then. I could have endured it. I would’ve been fine if you were happy.”

“No, Alastair, that’s not…” Jeremiah falters, his voice cracking. Alastair’s words break him even more. I would have endured it. All this time, he had thought he was doing what was best for Alastair. What was right. And all this time, Alastair had silently suffered…. Just to protect him. “That’s not how it works. I’m supposed to protect you. That’s my job. You deserve to be happy too. Actually happy. You shouldn’t feel like you have to sacrifice your own happiness for me. You shouldn’t have to have been down there. Alone.”

Jeremiah’s words leave a sting in Alastair’s eyes and throat as he swallows, inhaling shakily. “Jeremiah.” He whispers. His fingers close around Jeremiah’s hand and he squeezes. “If given the chance again… I wouldn’t have told you about Father Julius and I… I wouldn’t have asked you to come with me,” he murmurs.

Jeremiah sobs. Usually he’d feel embarrassed about being so emotional, but right now he doesn’t care, not when Alastair looks so sad and empty. It’s the most heartbreaking sight in the entire world. “No. No, no, don’t say that. I’m glad you told me. I’m so glad. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, Alastair. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” His voice is so brittle as he tries to force the words out, tries to make Alastair see that he is worth so much more than he could ever know. “I can be happy here. I can. As long as I have you by my side, I’ll be okay.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

The first scene is a scene from when Alastair and Jeremiah first come to join Atlas and Wren on the run. It shows off how both Atlas and Jeremiah are indoctrinated into their beliefs, leaving them kind of at odds with each other.

The second scene is an aftermath to Jeremiah finding out how the church actually is. It’s honestly a super important scene imo because it humanizes Jeremiah who otherwise isn’t shown to be soft and loving in canon, and shows how Alastair is the most important thing to him (which explains why he is the way he is in canon).

If you’re still reading, thank you :] This was one of my longer asks I must say!!

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