#vanco x reader

[wavesofyears]

Silco x Reader or Zaundads x Reader?

I just started a Silco x Reader fic but I am starting to feel the urge to add Vander into the mix. Especially because this fic takes place in the alternate timeline, I just feel like it makes more sense given their reconciliation and dynamic in that universe. I’m at a crossroads because I have already posted it tagged at a Silco x Reader fic and do not want to disappoint anyone who is reading specifically for that.

Please let me know if you’d prefer it remain a Silco x Reader fic or become a Zaundads/Vanco x Reader one instead (though I may just decide on my own anyway lol)

ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ·̫ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀

Link to the fic below if it helps you make your decision or if you’d simply like to check it out!

Accidental Acquisitions ˚✧⁎⁺˳✧༚

TYSM!!!

[arcamemyshorts]

vanco nation i present to you,,, a vanco x reader boxing AU

[honey-tongued-devil]

↠The last drop tour

| Part 1 | | Part 2 | | Part 3 |

This tour was designed to allow those who write and read fanfiction to finally visualize the Last Drop and have a solid map in hand. Specifically, I created it for a personal need, for my fanfiction Everytime It Rains, which you can read by clicking the title. This is part two, where you can see Silco's office in detail. Welcome back from your favorite guide, and enjoy!

Did you get something to drink? I hope so, because it's really packed in here. So, where did we leave off? We were supposed to enter the office, right? Well, sisters, and bros, and non-binary hoes, welcome!

Let's start from the left; I know it's a bit chaotic, but this is where Sevika used to come to drink even when Silco wasn't around, waiting for him faithfully. All those bottles are hers. The rug is from Piltover, you've probably recognized it, along with the iconic Last Drop glasses. That sturdy piece of furniture you see there, closer to his desk, is his safe. No one has the code except for him, me, and now you (it's 937). Since we're here, I might as well open it.

Face down, there's a photo depicting Vander, Silco, and Felicia on the bridge when they were younger—certainly well before Felicia got pregnant, given the length of Silco's hair. That strange map is a map of the mine tunnels, a relic from his past as a miner. And finally, the LP is "Our Love," ironically Vander's favorite song (as Jinx mentions in Jinx Fixes Everything), as well as Felicia's, Silco's, and Jinx's. It's in the safe because Silco treasures that vinyl so much that he doesn't leave it where it could get destroyed; he keeps it protected.

But let's close it up and move on. Here it is, the iconic desk. Since I'm a generous guide, I'll let you circle around it so you can see it from every angle. On top, there's the map of Piltover with the mug that Jinx made for him, while in the drawer, there's a mask to filter out the gray, the smog of Zaun, and a card that I think was used for blackmail. I can't say for sure, but it seems to be part of the man's shady dealings.

Next to his desk, on the right, there are two doors. They're not accessible, but since I doubt he'd want anyone to have such direct access to his office, in my fanfiction at least, there will be a room behind them with a double bed and some of his belongings.

But let's move on to the last piece! The huge map of Piltover and zaun with which he planned the export of Shimmer and weapons, where he kept track of everything that happened.

If you enjoyed or found this little tour useful, let me know, and feel free to check out my headcanons or my longfic! This tour has come to an end, but I might have material to create more in the future!

[ethnicallymoral]

[notawomanimagod]

SOMEONE PLEASE write a Pride and Prejudice Darcy! Silco but also a Modern Bridget Jones AU Darcy! Silco PLSSSS IM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH.

Maybe i should write this myself

+ Silco and Vander fighting l like two idiots outside the Last Drop while Felicia, Sevika and everyone watch

(art by artist_ele /GIF by nadirising)

[gillymugs]

An Au silco for my story

[losernb]

A Stray's Promise (Part 3)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

A/N: Finally figured out a name for this and I'm sorry for takin so long to continue this (School and work is kicking my ass) Okay byeee(>3<)/

The Last Drop is mainly empty, save for a couple of guys passed out in the corner. Vander goes to deal with those guys as you and Sevika watch from behind the bar. You both have small plates of food and cups of club soda—Vander runs a bar, sure, but he’s strict about minors drinking. No exceptions.

You glance over at Sevika, she looks a lot more at peace here. The tension that usually lingers in her shoulders has loosened. She looks... comfortable. You smile a little at the thought.

“‘Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” Sevika asks, raising an eyebrow as she catches you staring.

“Just glad you’re feeling better, a smile suits you y’know.” You tease, nudging your shoulder against hers.

“Oh shut it.” She scoffs, but there’s amusement in her voice as she nudges you back, a small chuckle escaping her lips.

Before you can throw another comment her way, Vander returns, this time with a skinny, long-haired man trailing beside him. The moment they step in, their presence commands attention.

“Do you need me to introduce these two, or do you understand how it works now?” Vander whispers to you.

You smack his shoulder and roll your eyes, “Whatever, man, I’ve got it.” 

“This is Silco, Vander’s best friend.” You gesture towards the man that walked in with Vander. 

He offers a smile and a small wave. “Pleasure.”

“And that,” Vander adds with a smirk, “is Stray’s new girlfriend.”

You immediately flip him off while Sevika looks away, pretending she didn’t hear that.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” you correct quickly, shooting Vander a glare. “Her name’s Sevika. I met her a couple days ago—she pulled me out of a bad spot.”

Silco steps forward, offering Sevika a handshake, which she takes without hesitation. His grip is firm but not overpowering, just assessing.

“How old are you?” he asks, his tone casual but curious. “You look pretty young.”

“I just turned sixteen last week,” she replies.

Silco hums, then glances at you with a sly grin before leaning in slightly. “Only a year older than our Stray, huh? Might actually have a chance with her after all.”

You choke on your drink. Club soda burns a lot more than you’d think when it goes down the wrong way.

Vander and Silco burst out laughing as you double over, coughing violently. Sevika pats your back, barely suppressing her own laughter.

“I’m fine,” you croak out, waving her away. “I’m fine.”

Your face is hot with embarrassment, and you drop your head onto the bar, groaning.

“They must love teasing you, huh?” She jokes, sitting down next to you. 

“You have no idea,” you sigh and laugh. “Vander’s like an older brother to me and Silco—well, they say they’re just friends but I’m 98% sure they’re dating and hiding it from me.” You shrug.

Sevika quirks a brow. “You think so?”

“Oh, definitely,” you nod. “They’ll deny it till their graves, though.”

Vander had been the closest thing you had to family ever since he found you sleeping behind The Last Drop three years ago. He took you in without question, gave you a home, treated you like his own blood. You never really thought about what your life would’ve been like without him, but you’re grateful every day that you don’t have to.

Sevika sighs, resting her head on her folded arms. “Must be nice,” she murmurs. “Having someone you can trust outside of family.”

You don’t miss the quiet pain in her voice. She’s thinking about her dad again.

“You could always stay here,” you offer, the words slipping out before you can second-guess them. “You’d have to share my room, but I don’t think Vander would mind. And I sure as hell wouldn’t.”

She lifts her head and studies your face, as if trying to gauge if you’re serious. You hold her gaze, offering a small, nervous smile.

Then, suddenly, tears spill down her cheeks.

“Shit—did I say something wrong?” you ask, instantly panicking.

“No, no,” she laughs, rubbing at her face even as the tears keep falling. “I just... I didn’t think I’d ever live to see the day I got away from him.” Her voice cracks slightly, but there’s relief in it, too. She sniffles and clears her throat. “I’d love to stay with you.” Then she quickly adds, “And Vander, of course!”

You laugh at the hasty addition, and she groans, covering her face with both hands.

“Shut up,” she mutters.

“Didn’t say a word,” you grin, nudging her shoulder again. 

“Finish eating then we can figure this out with Vander, sound good?” You say. She nods and then goes back to eating. 

Once her plate is clear, you grab it along with your own and head to the kitchen. The moment you step in, you hear a groan of frustration.

Silco stands by the sink, arms crossed, glaring at the ever-growing pile of dirty dishes.

“This is getting ridiculous,” he mutters under his breath.

Taking your chance while his back is turned, you casually slide your plates onto the pile and then—

“Stray.”

Damn it.

You freeze mid-step, caught in the act.

“You’re not seriously just gonna walk out of here, are you?” Silco asks, voice dripping with amusement.

“I, uh… gotta handle something with Vander! Super important! Life or death, really,” you say, inching toward the door.

Silco raises an eyebrow. “Life or death, huh?”

“Yep! Gotta go!”

And with that, you bolt before he can rope you into dish duty.

Sevika barely suppresses a laugh as you reach her in the hallway, slightly out of breath. “Real smooth,” she teases.

“Shut up, I saved us both from dish duty,” you whisper, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward Vander’s room before Silco can come after you.

Once you reach Vander’s room, you find him at his desk going through some papers. He sees you two walk in and sets his papers down. 

“Ya need somethin’ girls?” He asks, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Before you can speak up, Sevika beats you to it.

“I’d like to stay here.”

Her voice is steady, but you can see her fingers twitching slightly at her sides. She puts her head down and avoids his gaze, nerves causing her to shake a little. You place your hand on her back, letting her know she’s okay. She takes a deep breath before continuing.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to come stay with you guys.” She says, this time locking eyes with Vander. 

For a moment, he just looks at her—really looks at her. Then, a small chuckle rumbles from his chest.

“‘Course you can, kid,” he says easily, leaning back in his chair. “Could’ve just said that from the start.”

Sevika blinks, almost as if she hadn’t expected it to be that easy. “Really?”

Vander smirks. “What, ya thought I’d throw you back out on the street?” He shakes his head. “You’ll have to share with Stray and split her chores, though.”

At that, he flicks his gaze toward you.

But instead of groaning or protesting, you gasp dramatically.

“Wait… SPLIT my chores? You mean I only have to do half of them now?” You whip around to Sevika, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Sevika, you angel, you savior!”

Sevika looks at you, completely caught off guard. “Uh—”

“You have no idea what this means to me,” you continue, shaking her lightly. “I have free time now. I might actually sleep. Do you understand?!”

Sevika chuckles, but there’s a warmth in her eyes now. “Glad I could, uh, be of service?”

Vander rolls his eyes. “Alright, alright, before you throw a damn parade, let’s focus. We’ll go over to your place in the morning and grab your stuff. For now, get some rest.”

The way he says it—like it’s already decided, like she belongs—makes Sevika exhale a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

“Thank you,” she murmurs.

Vander simply shoos you both toward the door. “Go on now, before I put you on dish duty with Silco.”

You don’t need to be told twice.

As you and Sevika walk down the hall, she finally speaks up. “I’ve never had someone just… say yes like that,” she admits, her voice quiet.

You nudge her shoulder. “Well, get used to it. You’re family now.”

She gives you a sideways glance, eyes slightly glassy. Then, after a moment, she smirks. “So… about these chores…”

You clasp your hands together. “Don’t worry, I’ve got the perfect system. You’ll take the worst ones.”

Her smirk falters. “Wait—what?”

You take off running. “GOODNIGHT, SEVIKA!”

Her groan echoes down the hall as she chases after you, but you can hear the laughter beneath it.

[theoldgaylion]

Summary: Destiny was really testing Silco's patience that day. First, Vander called him in a way he hadn’t for years. Then, Powder's new teacher mistook him for her dad.

Some confrontation with his… associate? Friend? The man who shared Felicia and Connell's daughters custody with? was due.

---

There you go with another Vanco 🙇🏻‍♂️ I had so much fun writing this one heh

[constantfragmentation]

I love the latest chapter of Iron&Glass.

Sweet Dad Silco gets me every. damn. time.

I love.love.love Reader and reading it in Silco's pov. Their whole first meeting and the whole scene where she gets her first shower in a long time. omg. and he goes into full protective brother mode but maybe has a crush growing on her, a little possessiveness showing.

He really likes she admires him. So, it's going to be interesting how his relationship with Vander is going to go.

The parallels are really good too. He sees her qualities in Jinx. He's in a toxic relationship with Vander that he doesn't control so it seems right he would be controlling with Reader instead.

It feels like he's not sure what to do with her. There are some feelings coming and I think it's going to fuck him up.

You hit the nail on the head, indeed. It's going to fuck him up.

I wanted Vander to be in control of their relationship. Silco always admired him, wants to be him and now he's the 'secret' lover. But it's growing old.

I like to think Silco has never had a serious relationship except Vander, where emotions are involved. Yeah, he's had one-nighters but it's just sex.

With Reader, he's in control and he's finding he likes that. A LOT. It's on his terms. He just underestimates her feelings and his own suppressed feelings. He's kind of learned from Vander on how to treat a lover.

Being bisexual, I wanted to play in this area too. It can be difficult going from female to male relationships. You can be conflicted on your identity as far as sexuality. I see that in Silco. He likes both but as of now, he's more emotionally invested in Vander for many reasons. Cracks are showing though and they'll continue to grow bigger.

They're already having issues before Reader arrives. It opens up for them to have a fond friendship and Silco starts finding all the things he admired in Vander, she admires in HIM. That's some cocaine for the brain. In the first chapter she's telling him how smart he is and how he should be taking more control because clearly he's the brains in this group.

There is a divergence happening in how Silco sees managing the Lanes and the bigger idea of a full on revolution and this is where Vander starts to waver. He's had control of Silco for awhile and let it slip. Reigning him back in will be harder now that he is finding his own voice.

I wanted to blend Reader into how Silco perceives women and how he sees young Jinx. His protective side comes out. He remembers when he was like that for Reader and how it all went to hell, so he wants to fix that this time around.

I want to play with parallels of Silco/Vander , Silco/Reader and Reader/Jinx (non-sexual or romantic. Silco only views Jinx as a daughter)

There's kind of a triple betrayal on the horizon. Reader's attempt to build Silco up and pull him away backfires, she learns some not so good news on two accounts and hides one from Silco, by the time the other rolls around it's too late.

Vander's not an idiot. He starts to see things change. He didn't care about Silco's one-nighters because he always 'came home' to him in the end but with Reader, something is different and it becomes a tug of war on Silco. Who does he trust? Who does he believe? And who just deceived the shit out of him.

It will get very ugly prior to the attempted murder.

By the time Reader and Silco meet in present time.... the audience will know exactly what happened that tore everyone apart, and what Reader DOESN'T know about Silco until actually sees him again. It will be a shock to her. Will she realize the truth before it's too late?

That's what I'm hoping for.

I love writing unhealthy relationships. IRL, I wouldn't want one but they're hella dramatic to play with in fiction.

I wanted to show Readers loyalty to Silco. A friendship turning into more but its complicated. Unrequited love? I wanted to show her as scrappy, smart and independent at first but finding a lost soul in Silco and attaches to that (kind of like Jinx) because she has no one else. So when she starts to fall apart, Silco is literally "dude wtf ?Why are you a mess now?" because he expects her to be logical like him and doesn't realizes she harbours serious emotions for him.

Silco processing his emotions is a juggernut in itself. The man holds grudges until the time of fucking time. He has serious trust issues. He emotionally closes himself off out of fear of abandonment and hurt. He can't handle disloyalty or lies.

He knows when he's wronged someone but him apologizing for shit? Oh boy.

I love playing with his character because there is SO MUCH to work with. Silco is so damn complicated that you can take him in multiple directions.

Of course, me being long-winded as fuck when I'm talking about something I like.

I just need to learn to say: thank you! I appreciate it! Thanks for reading but my fucking brainrot says otherwise.

[saguaroo1]

I need a beta reader for a 1264 words angst Zaundads Fanfiction. For warnings, it would only be Major Character Death. Please help me.

DM me or comment to let me know if you're interested. No experience is needed.

[thejohnlockedfemboy]

enforcer!User and young!Vander, with an appearance by young!Silco // 🚬

User is an injured Enforcer who ends up at the Last Drop, surrounded by hostile patrons and a barkeep ( Vander ) and his business partner ( Silco ) who absolutely do not trust them.

🍺

REQUESTED BY @mverickss

Is User really just looking for a drink, or is it something more?

[honey-tongued-devil]

↠The last drop tour

| Part 1 | | Part 2 | | Part 3 |

This tour is designed to provide those who need it with a complete map of the Last Drop, as well as to help me (and anyone reading my fanfiction, Everytime it Rains) clearly envision the spaces while reading. This tour is incredibly detailed, and I’ll explain both the location and what you’re looking at. Let’s just say I’ll be your personal tour guide! Enjoy!

↠FIRST PART, THE BAR

Let’s start with the entrance! The door is massive, asymmetrical in true Zaun style, made of stained glass and steel. To the right of the door is the Last Drop’s electric meter, while on the left stands the iconic, battered jukebox. In these photos, it looks especially worse for wear because they were taken after the fight between Vi and Sevika.

And we can finally turn around to take in the Last Drop in its entirety! For accuracy, I’ve included both a screenshot from “Jinx Fixes Everything” and an image from Nikolai Lebedev’s ArtStation portfolio.

There are about four fairly large round tables scattered across the central area of the room. The floor is herringbone wood, and the lighting is spread out. While I didn’t take the photos myself, the LED lights are dispersed across the ceiling. On the second floor, you can still spot a yellowish-greenish sign featuring the Last Drop’s symbol, and the “columns” are adorned with blue lights.

If you’re looking for warm lighting, the yellow neon lights and the ones behind the bar are switched on; the cooler lights are positioned along the side walls of the venue.

Before moving on to show you what’s around the main rectangle, I’d like to point out that the staircase to the left of the bar leads to the upper floor. Next to it is a small corridor that takes you to arcade machines and the pool table seen in several scenes.

"What’s on the sides of the rectangle? What do you mean?"

Yeah, I wasn’t sure how else to describe it, but while the public and chaotic section where people dance is the central rectangle, to the right and left of that area are two booths on each side. These booths have fixed tables and heavy curtains that can be closed to ensure maximum privacy.

This is where customers strike deals—we see it in Act 1 when the two Bilgewater pirates threaten Huck. Since the Last Drop came under Silco’s control, the first booth now displays pictures of him (and two other chembarons, though theirs are small and insignificant), commemorating the venue’s inauguration.

So, if you’re looking for privacy, this is the perfect spot.

But follow me—before I take you to Silco’s office, I’ll bring you to another place I’m sure none of you expected to see. Through the door to the right of the bar, there’s a small flat area, perfect for storing spare drinks, followed by a long staircase leading down. But first, we need to grab the key. Silco cared deeply about keeping this place intact, so it’s been locked up the entire time. In the meantime, take a look at the bar!

The key is nailed to one of the planks of the bar—it was necessary to stop here to retrieve it. But let’s not dawdle, down we go!

I know you’d never have guessed, but Silco was an extremely sentimental person. He decided not to touch the little room where Vander and his kids used to live. Instead, he locked it up and let it remain "sacred" in its own way. The room is very small and packed with stuff, so it’s hard to move around. You’ll have to settle for a quick glimpse. Let me jog your memory by reminding you that when Vander talks to Vi and sends Mylo and Claggor out of the room, the staircase Claggor sits on is the same one we just came down.

What do you say—shall we head back up? Taking the staircase on the left side of the bar, we arrive at the upper floor! At first glance, it’s just a mezzanine, as it aligns with the "public" rectangle of the bar below. To the left of the stairs, we have Silco’s office, which I’ll show you in detail another time. Over there, where you now see the barrels, is where, in my story, there’s a door leading to the upstairs area—currently Vander and the kids’ home. That door gets covered during event nights to prevent any troublemakers from wandering into their house. On the right, we have the DJ’s console and more tables for those who’d rather enjoy their drinks in peace than join the dance floor.

The reason I suggest you take a break and grab a drink before entering Silco's office is that there's really a lot to see. Here you’ll find my Masterlist, which includes both Part 1 and Part 2 of the tour.

[hischiershoe]

─── DOUBLE OR NOTHING

─── QUINN HUGHES X FEM!READER

[ summary ] Falling for a hockey player was risky, but falling for a hockey player your dad coached was an entirely different gamble.

[ word count ] 7.4k

[ content warnings ] brief jealous quinn, drinking is mentioned, some gambling references which author (me) knows moot about it, angst if you really really squint, make out session that alludes to smut but it fades out before it gets too steamy, heavily unedited

[ note ] after rewriting this with three different players over the last eight months, Quinn was the one that truly motivated me to get it done. please note that the events of the gala are probably not factually correct but it’s for the plot okay

The first time you met Quinn, you knew who he was. Of course you did. He was a guy with a pretty impressive reputation for being his team's saving grace more often than not but most importantly, he was a player on the team your father just so happened to be the head coach for. So of course you knew who Quinn Hughes was the second you saw him in a lowly lit bar with a few of his teammates, and he knew who you were from the moment he saw you walk through the door. 

Quinn had seen your pictures all around his coach’s office, some from when you were young and some that were more recent. He had heard stories of your accomplishments and childhood in the midst of team dinner or practice rambles, and he had listened to your dad go on about how proud he was of you. It was a secret to none on the team that you were attractive, but the guys were smart enough to know you were off limits, but now that you were only a few feet away from him, Quinn knew that was going to be easier said than done.

At first, he pretended not to notice the way your eyes lingered on him longer than they should, and you pretended like you couldn’t feel his stare when he thought you weren’t paying attention. The two of you played the game of cat and mouse, neither of you quite ready to take the bait and completely follow through with what was being dangled in front of you. Though, when the group you were with combined with his own, you grew hopeful that that was going to change.

When one of the guys you quickly recognized as Brock introduced himself, he also went around and introduced the rest of the guys. You forced yourself to focus on them rather than the defenseman that was standing directly across from you, his eyes unwavering from you as you focused on his teammates. You didn’t dare spare a glance at him until his name was falling from his friends lips, but the second you made eye contact you knew you were undeniably screwed. 

“Hi,” You greeted, your voice sweet and smooth as you stuck your hand out for him to take, “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Nice to finally meet you,” He shyly smiles, the calluses of his palm slightly scratching the softness of your own.

 A few observing eyes noticed the way the two of you seemed to disappear in your own world, your hands locked together for far longer than necessary and your entire demeanor mirroring his own. It took the announcement of someone buying a round of shots for the two of you to break apart and join the rest of the group, but neither of you strayed too far from the other for the rest of the night.

While you didn’t go home with Quinn that night, you did manage to get his number from him before you went your separate ways. It took a little convincing on your part after he initially rebuffed your question with the simple excuse that he couldn’t because he played for your dad, but you were coy in your second attempt. Reminding him that exchanging phone numbers wasn’t a marriage proposal, that it was just you looking for more friends in a city that was brand new to you, and not long after, you couldn’t hide the smug smirk on your face as he typed his number in your phone.

The two of you started off casually texting, you asking him about his hobbies outside of hockey and him asking about how you were liking Vancouver so far. Your conversations flowed naturally and with ease, the two of you becoming closer than you thought you would in such a short amount of time. However, the two of you didn’t see another until his phone rang one random Friday night between home games. You’d had a bad date that left you stranded at a restaurant in a part of the city you were not yet familiar with and you had no ride home. Getting an uber by yourself was out of the question, and you found yourself clicking on Quinn’s number before anyone else's.

“Hello,” His voice was deep and wary, undoubtedly confused at your unprompted phone call.

“Hey,” You breathed out, “Are you busy?”

“No,” He shook his head, though you can’t see him, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes– Well, no, but it’s just– Do you think you can come pick me up,” You asked, your voice meek and hesitant as your eyes darted around the bustling street life around you.

“Of course,” His response was instant, almost embarrassingly so, “Send me your location and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

The restaurant you had been left at was only a fifteen minute drive from him, but he made it in ten. He didn’t ask any questions as he held the passenger door open for you, but you didn’t miss the way his eyes dragged across the people walking by almost as if he was searching for something. Or someone. When he was back in the driver's seat, he silently handed you his phone with the music app open so you could play whatever you wanted as he started driving. However, not even the soft, familiar tune playing through the speakers was enough to ease the awkward tension filling the car.

“So,” You started, hands clasped in your lap as you gazed at him, “What have you been up to tonight?”

He briefly glances at you, a nervous chuckle passing through his lips before he says, “Nothing too exciting. Was just at home relaxing before the game tomorrow. What about you?”

You were quick to gather that you weren’t as outgoing and confident around him when you didn’t have a few drinks in your system, or when you were face to face as opposed to texting. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your fingers wringing together as you tried to keep yourself calm and outwardly collected. It also didn’t help that you picked up on the few wandering eyes of bystanders, their whispers making a ball of anxiety form in your chest at the thought of word somehow getting back to your dad. Though, you tried to push those fears away as you focused on the current moment.

“Well, I was on a date,” You snorted, pressing the side of your head into the headrest as you look between him and the road, “He left after getting some phone call, and left me there without a way home since he insisted on picking me up. Never doing that again.”

“He just left you there,” Quinn slowly asks, and his anger is evident in the way he’s white-knuckling the steering wheel and his jaw is clenched so tightly it looked almost painful. His sudden change in demeanor confused you, made you wonder what you had said that caused such a shift to the usually calm guy next to you. 

“Yeah,” You draw out, furrowing your eyebrows together, “But it’s okay, it’s probably the best thing that could’ve happened. I didn’t want to get back in his car.”

“Why even go on a date with someone who makes you feel like that,” He slightly scoffs, but you know he doesn’t truly blame you. At least, you hope he doesn’t.

“He wasn’t that bad over text,” You shamefully shrug, moving your gaze to the dashboard in front of you as you let out a shaky breath, “Plus, he was attractive enough for me to want to go home with him.”

Quinn’s breath hitches in his throat, a wave of jealousy washing over him like a bucket of scalding water, but he brushes it off as he adjusts in his seat and keeps his focus on the road. You can feel the slight shift in the air, but the feeling that lingers is unrecognizable. It’s tension, that much you can tell, but you can’t quite figure out what kind of tension it was. It unsettled you, the unfamiliarity, but you decided to force it down your throat and let the ride home pass in silence. 

When Quinn was nearing your apartment complex, you hadn’t expected him to park in one of the guest parking spots and slip out of the car. You pushed the car door open, stepping onto the concrete as he stands near the back of his car with his hands shoved in the pockets of his sweatpants. He can see the curiosity swirling in your eyes as you near him, your bag tightly grasped in your hand as you stop and raise your eyebrows as you peer at him.

“I’m just walking you up to your apartment,” He chuckles, shaking his head in amusement, “I was raised with manners, you know.” 

“Thought that was typically done after a date,” You tease as you brush past him, trying to shake off the last bout of tension that remained stuck to you.

“Technically, this is,” He smugly points out as he follows closely behind you.

“I guess so,” You hum, throwing him a playful look over your shoulder as you continue, “But I’m not sleeping with you.”

That night, your relationship with Quinn began to shift into something you knew it shouldn’t. You found yourself texting him far more often about anything you could, thinking about him any time you got a free moment to yourself, spending as much time the two of you could spare together. The two of you were teetering over the edge into territory that could be dangerous for both of you, but neither of you were doing anything to stop it. 

Quinn knew that what he was doing was a gamble for trouble, his teammates constantly reminding him of that when your name would fall from his lips or pop up on his phone. Truthfully, Quinn had never been much of a risk taker before, always choosing the safe route or weighing all of his options in his head before following through, and he knew developing feelings for you was the biggest risk of all, but he didn't care when it came to you. While he wasn’t exactly sure where the two of you would end up, he was sure that he was willing to face anything that got in his way. To him, you were worth it all.

When your mom called and told you that you had to be at the annual Dice and Ice charity event the team was holding on Sunday, you had to bite your tongue to keep your eagerness at bay when you agreed. It had been nearly a week since you had last seen Quinn, courtesy of his hectic schedule and your busy life, and you weren’t going to pass up the opportunity to see him again. Although the setting of your reunion wasn’t exactly ideal, you had high hopes that everyone would be far too busy to analyze any potential interactions you had with him.

The hallways to the venue were freezing, and the lower than normal temperature outside didn’t help in the slightest. While your brothers didn’t seem to mind with their pants and light jackets, you were bundled up in the warmest jacket you owned with a pair of fleece-lined leggings under the dress your mom asked you to wear. Living on the lower east coast for the last few years left you newly unaccustomed to the cold atmosphere you grew up around, and your brothers were not letting you forget about it.

“You would never know she grew up in hockey rinks,” Mason snorts, lightly slapping Trevor on the shoulder. 

“She’s just a beach girl now,” Liam teases, “Can’t handle the cold.”

“Duke doesn’t have beaches dumbass,” You roll your eyes, “It’s below freezing outside, anyways. I don’t want to hear you guys bitching about being cold later.” 

The four of you get into a playful bout of bickering, your voices growing louder as you try and talk over one another. All of you were far too engrossed in your petty argument that none of your ears picked up on the nearing footsteps until the two guys were standing right in front of you. You all come to an abrupt halt, Liam and Mason snapping their mouths shut as they gape at your new guests. 

“Hey guys,” Kiefer greets over the large box in his grasp, his eyes flitting towards you for a brief second.

“What’s up,” Trevor responds, puffing his chest out to make him appear taller.

You roll your eyes at his lame attempt at seeming cool before you ask, ”What are you guys doing?”

“We were sent on a mission,” Elias’ deep voice rumbles, “Or maybe we’re hiding. Who knows? ”

“Right,” You drawl, slightly narrowing your eyes at the taller of the two in confusion, “Well, you guys have fun with that. We’re gonna go.” 

You step around the two of them, your brothers following you without protest, but all three of them hear Elias’ not so quiet ‘Should we tell him she’s here?’. They all toss suspicious, curious looks your way, but you lamely shrug your shoulders in mock confusion as you scurry ahead of them. You knew your brothers were far nosier than you were and when they felt out of the loop, they would do anything to figure out what was being kept from them. All you could do was hope that luck was on your side tonight, and that they wouldn’t uncover the one thing you wanted to keep secret.

Quinn found you the second you stepped on the floor with three boys in your wake, and he couldn’t help but gawk at how beautiful you looked. The dress you were wearing was hugging you in all the right places, your hair done in a way that framed your face just right, and he could see the shine in your eyes, even from where he was standing. He could feel the knowing stares from his teammates as he let their conversation fade away, but he wasn’t in any hurry to look away. He was completely and utterly entranced with you.

It didn’t take you long to find Quinn, either. He was tucked in a corner with Conor and Brock, mingling with a few fans near the drink bar with amused smiles on their faces. You could feel your brothers watchful eyes on you, so you were quick to avert your eyes and sneak passing glances whenever you could. Each time their focus shifted to something more worthy, you were instantly letting your eyes fall on Quinn, and you found that he was already looking at you almost every single time. 

During the entirety of Quinn’s speech, your eyes never strayed away from him. You hung on to his every word, listening so intently that every other sound around you was temporarily muted. You didn’t pay attention to anything else except for him until you felt a small pinch to your arm, forcing your harsh gaze to your brother as he jerked his head towards your parents. They were rising to their feet as they clapped, so you followed suit and ignored the skeptical look on Trevor’s face.

At first, you weren’t entirely sure where your dad was looking off to, but when Quinn came into view, a pit of nerves formed in your stomach. He had a wide smile on his face, greeting people as he walked by them and ran his non-injured hand through his hair, and the simple act alone made your mind go hazy with thoughts of him. Though, admittedly the closer he got to you, the more sense the empty seat directly to your left made, and you felt like you were going to pass out on the spot.

”Nice speech, Huggy,” Your dad calls out, pulling Quinn into a friendly hug, “It’ll have donations rolling in.”

”Let’s hope so,” Quinn lightly laughs.

As he walks around the table, he stops to politely greet your mom and brothers before he finally gets to you. The shift in his gaze was so subtle that you almost missed it, almost missed the way his eyes sparkled with a glint of comfortable familiarity. Almost as if seeing you, simply being near you, was enough to relax him despite the hectic chaos around him.

“Hi,” He bites back the smile toying at his lips, holding out his hand for you to take, “Nice to finally meet you. I’m Quinn.”

“Hi, Quinn,” You stifle the amused tone threatening to burst to the surface as you tell him your name, “Nice to finally meet you, too.”

You’d been in Vancouver all season, but you had yet to make an appearance at any games or any other team events that would’ve allowed you to ‘meet’ Quinn. Pretending to not know each other was the safe route to go, the easiest way to keep your family unaware of what you had been doing in your free time. You still weren’t entirely sure how your dad would react if he found out you’d been hanging out, and crushing on, one of his players, and you weren’t looking to find out, either. Especially not tonight. 

“Two years I’ve been coaching this team,” Your dad calls out as he takes his seat, “And this is the first time my daughter’s meeting everyone.”

“Dad,” You exclaim in annoyance, narrowing your eyes at him as you sit down.

“Sorry, sorry,” He throws his hands up in surrender, “I know you were busy with work and school. I’m just messing around.”

“What were you studying,” Quinn smoothly redirects, fixating his gaze on your face, making your brief bout of frustration disappear like it was never there. 

The conversation flows after that, a mixture of hockey and various other topics being thrown around the table. Anytime you and Quinn would disappear into your own world, you could feel Trevor’s suspicious gaze on the side of your face and it served as a careful reminder that you were surrounded by your family and not in the confined walls of his apartment You’d forcefully pull yourself away from him and engage with the others, hoping no one else picked up on it the same way he did. However, judging by the several looks your mom threw your way, she could tell something was up. 

By the time the speech portion of the event was over, everyone scrambled off in different directions to participate in whatever caught their eye. Liam and Mason followed your dad to go and talk to some of the bigger sponsors, and Trevor disappeared before you could catch wind of where he was going. A few of Quinn’s teammates hastily pulled him away, but not before he tossed an apologetic look your way. A look that did not go unnoticed. 

“I see you and Quinn get along well,” Your mom’s voice startled you, tearing yours way from Quinn’s retreating figure.

“Yeah,” You nervously chuckle, avoiding her stare as you grasp at the fabric of your dress, “He’s nice.” 

She lets out a melodic hum, a sound you knew she reserved for when she knew her children were hiding something.

“He is a nice boy,” She affirmed, kissing her teeth before she moves in front of you, “Honey, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I know,” You mumble as you finally meet her soft eyes, “But there’s nothing to tell. It was just nice to talk to someone my own age that isn’t from work.”

You could tell that she didn’t fully believe you, but she didn’t press any further. Instead, she pressed a gentle kiss to your temple before she was slipping into the crowd on her own. You stood in your spot, eyes darting through the sea of people in search of no spa in particular. You recognized a few of the girls that had been at the bar the night you met Quinn, but you didn’t feel privy enough to approach them. Finally, you managed to catch a glimpse of your brother standing at one of the roulette tables, and you made your way towards him.

When you reached his side, the dealer called out to you and asked if you were participating, earning a shake of your head as you stood behind Trevor. You weren’t all that great at playing any sort of betting game, but you knew the relative rules and basics and that made it easy to keep up with what was going on. Your brother seemed to be doing fairly well, and, from what you remember, he had a pretty good chance at winning.

“Your boyfriend’s coming over here,” Trevor mumbled, his gaze flicking beside him before the table in front of him reclaimed his focus.

“What,” Your face screwed up in confusion, “Who?”

Your head turned, and your eyes immediately settled on Quinn as he walked towards the table you were standing at. He was passing polite smiles and hello’s to everyone he passed, but he made no efforts to stop and converse further. The way your heart rate increased so quickly at the mere sight of him was almost worrisome, though it was a feeling you’d grown accustomed to by now. No matter how many times you saw him, or what you were doing, he made your heart race.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” You whisper under your breath, subtly kicking the leg of Trevor’s chair.

“Tell that to your face,��� He smugly states without glancing in your direction.

Before you can say anything else, the sound of Quinn’s voice calling your name echoes in your ears. You take a deep, ragged breath, shifting your gaze to Quinn as he comes to a stop right beside you. He’s got his hands shoved into his pockets now, a slight pink tinge to his cheeks as he flickers his eyes between you and your brother.

“You not playin’,” He asks, clearing his throat before he settles on watching the table. 

“Absolutely not,” You snort, shifting on your feet, “I’ll leave Trevor to betting all Dad’s money” 

“At least it’s for a good cause,” He jokes as he gently knocks his elbow against your own, “How much is the pot?”

“Not sure what it is now,” You hum, letting your eyes trail to Quinn’s face, “I heard someone say something about double or nothing, though.”

“Oh he’s a risk taker, I see,” Quinn chuckles as his eyes dart across your face, “Must run in the family.”

“What’s a reward without a little risk,” You flirt, ignoring the blood pounding in your ears and the knots twisting in your stomach.

The sound of Trevor clearing his throat rips through the veil of tension that surrounds the two of you, forcing you to tear your eyes away from Quinn and straighten your back. You met the careful, warning filled stare he was throwing over his shoulder before he turned his focus back to the game in front of him, and you felt your entire face heat up in embarrassment like you’d been caught sneaking a boy into your room. You force yourself to keep your focus on what was going on in front of you, rather than the dark haired man who has been residing in your dreams for the last few months. Though, Quinn wasn’t making that easy on you with every fleeting touch to the arm or question he threw your way. 

“Hey,” He quietly calls out to you, eyes soft and hopeful, “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Your gaze flickers back to your brother who was now honed in on the game before curtly nodding at Quinn. You follow closely behind him, ignoring the needles of anxiety that were poking your skin at the idea of someone somehow twisting what they saw and it getting back to your dad. In reality, you knew most people would assume that Quinn was likely helping you, guiding you in the unfamiliar building, but you knew how nosy people could be sometimes. They loved a good headline for their gossip sessions, and the last thing you wanted was your name on the front page. Fortunately for you, the two of you came to a quick stop as you joined a group of his teammates and their partners. 

Brock was the first to notice you, cheerfully greeting you before he pulls you into a friendly hug, which was shortly followed by one from his girlfriend. The others were simple with their hello’s, sticking to small waves and verbal greetings, and you happily returned them all. 

“Bella,” Quinn mumbled under his breath, slightly jerking his head towards you. 

“Oh, right,” Her face lights up with recognition, “I asked Quinn to bring you over here because I,” Her gaze briefly flickers towards Quinn, “Wanted to know if you’d be interested in going out with us afterwards? We’re just going to go to a bar for some drinks. Probably the one we met you at, actually!” 

“I’d love to,” You rush out embarrassingly fast, your face slightly heating up before you collect yourself, “I’ll have to tell my family though. I rode here with my parents and brothers.” 

You felt like a child as you told them that you had to practically ask for permission, but, judging by the looks on everyone’s faces, they already knew that. None of them were giving you any sort of weird looks, or looks of judges. In fact, they had all let their eyes fall on Quinn as he stood behind you with his hands shoved in his pockets and a bashful look on his face. It was then that the cliche lightbulb went off in your head. 

He knew that you would need a good enough cover story to leave without your family. It was something you’d mentioned over text the day before, and he was giving you just that. 

“That’s okay,” Bella continues, “We won’t be leaving until the events well over so there’s plenty of time. We just wanted to give you a heads up.” 

After that, you fell into a casual conversation with the group of them, even after Quinn and the guys had to wander off for teamly duties. The girls were nice, asking you about work and how you had been liking Vancouver so far, and they answered any questions you asked them without complaint. You stayed with them for a while, letting yourself enjoy their company before Bella reminded you that you still had to clue your family in on your plans for the night and time was about to run out.

You slipped back into the dwindling crowd, stepping around chair and circles of people as you searched for your Mom or Dad. It didn’t take you long to find them near the stage, both of them engaged in what seemed like a pleasant conversation with an older couple you vaguely remember meeting earlier in the evening. Once you finally reached them, you stood off to the side and patiently waited until they were finished up, and you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself at how childish it all felt. 

“Hi honey,” Your mom was the first to call out to you, her arm looped with your dads as she tugs him to face you, “Everything okay? We’re about to head out soon.”

“I was actually coming to tell you guys that I’m going to go home with Bella, Brock’s girlfriend,” You nervously admitted, picking up on the subtle flash of suspicion on your moms face, “They invited me out for drinks.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Your dad sighs as he anxiously glances at your mom, “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Who knows who’ll be there and—”

“I know Dad, but you know I don’t have many friends here. I swear I’ll keep my ‘coaches daughter’ appearance up the whole time.”

A brief pause hangs in the air, and you know your mom can see right through the charade you were playing, but she keeps it to herself. In fact, she quietly encourages your dad to agree and let you have the night with friends.

“Okay, okay,” He finally shakes his head, small smile tugging at his lips, “I trust you. Have fun, okay? And be safe. Call me if you need a ride no matter what time it is. I’ll keep my ringer on.” 

“I will,” You practically squeal, lunging forward to pull them both into a hug, “I promise! I love you guys!” 

You reconnected with the girls as they hovered near the bar that held everyone’s jackets and purses, telling them that everything was good on your end. They all let out excited cheers before diving into what was the overly complicated driving situation. You could barely follow along, but what you were able to gather was several people carpooled and now there weren’t enough seats, which didn’t make any sense to you. 

“Wait,” You politely interrupt, “You said Elias and Conor rode here with Quinn, so why can’t they do that now?”

“Captain’s orders,” Bella drops her left eye into a wink, making your entire face warm and your chest warm. 

You don’t have much time to think about her insinuation before the guys are crowding around you all over again. The already loud conversation seemingly increased times ten as everyone tried to talk over one another, but eventually they were able to come to enough of an agreement for everyone to finally filter out to the parking garage. You noticed that Brock and Bella made sure to stay close to Quinn, which in turn, meant you could stay close to him without worrying about your parents wandering eyes.

“You ridin’ with me,” Quinn asks as you step into the brisk Canadian air. 

“I think that is the plan,” You confirm, glancing at him with a teasing glint shining in your eyes, “Apparently it’s just us, though. Something about ‘captain's orders’ I heard.” 

“Oh, did you,” He raises his eyebrows, a mischievous smile toying at his lips, “Guess we have to follow them, don’t we?”

You follow Quinn to his car, settling into the familiar leather seat as he adjusts the temperature and hands you his phone so you can pick the music. You're scrolling through Apple Music when he starts backing out, but it doesn’t take you long to queue up a bunch of songs you know you’ll both like. After so many car rides and impromptu karaoke sessions, you’d grown used to his music taste. You put his phone in the cup holder, softly singing along to the song as you fall into the comfortable silence that fills the car. 

“You okay if we swing by my apartment first,” Quinn asks after a few minutes, glancing away from the road to look at you for a second, “I want to change before we head there and I think I still have some of your clothes at my house from when your washer broke.”

“Oh, that’d be great actually. I need to get out of this dress,” You dramatically groan, pushing your head into the headrest, “It’s a little uncomfortable, but my mom insisted that I wear it. She said it was ‘sophisticated’ or whatever.”

“Well, you look good,” Quinn rushes out, clearing his throat as he puts extra effort into looking at the road in front of him. 

Your gaze flickers over to him, fixating on his face and taking quick notice to his cheeks that were tinged pink, but you can’t tell if it’s from how warm his car was or the comment that still hung in the air.

“Thank you, Quinn,” You sheepishly smile, letting your eyes fall to his hands as one grips the steering wheel and the other rests on his thigh, “You look good, too.”

It doesn’t take long for Quinn to get to his apartment, pulling into his usual parking spot before he’s quickly jumping out of his seat and speed walking around his car. You knew what he was doing, and you always pretended to be busy gathering your stuff until he was there to open the door. A fact you’re certain he knew, but neither of you ever brought it up to one another. If you mentioned it, it would only lead to a conversation that neither you nor him were quite ready to have with each other.

“My place is a little messy,” He bashfully admits as he sticks his key into the door, “Haven’t had much time to clean lately.”

You wave him off with a small shake of the head, stepping around him when he pushes the door open to let you inside. Your eyes graze over his apartment, your brows arching as you take in what his idea of messy was. He had a few stray hoodies thrown about, some dishes lingering on the kitchen counter, and maybe two take out containers on his dining table. He’d hate to see the state your apartment was currently in if he thought this was bad.

“Your clothes are in the guest room, so you can change in there and then we’ll head out,” He clears his throat, tossing his keys on the small table before he turns to you. 

You were shrugging your coat off, carefully laying it over the back of his kitchen stool since he had yet to get an actual rack to hang anything on. He couldn’t stop himself from letting his eyes drag the length of your body as if he hadn’t spent the entire evening doing that already. His fingers twitched at his side, the urge to commit the feeling of you to memory growing the longer he let himself stare.

“Sounds good,” You hum, pivoting on you heels to catch Quinn already looking at you. Even though he was quick to look away, it was too late. He’d been made. 

Quinn mumbles something incoherent before he darts down the hallway to his room, leaving you almost as flustered as he was in the middle of his living room. You’d spent time alone with him before, several times, but you’d never caught him blatantly checking you out before, and it made your stomach twist itself into undoble knots. It took you a few moments to gather yourself enough and will your feet to move down the hall and into the guest room.

With the door shut behind you, you scan the room until you find that the clothes you had left were neatly folded on the small dresser across from the bed. You hadn’t realized that you left so much at Quinn’s, but you were grateful for that now, wanting to shed yourself of the dress that was digging into your skin the longer you wore it. As you picked through a few of the shirts, you froze when your fingers brush against the fabric of a hoodie you knew didn’t belong to you. 

You recognized the logo on it immediately, having seen it during the many times you had stolen the hoodie it decorated when you’d conveniently forgotten to bring your own every time the two of you hung out. You’re not sure how it got mixed up with your laundry, but if Quinn had taken the time to fold all of your things, he had to have left it in there on purpose. He had to have knowingly left his hoodie, a hoodie he told you a hundred times he loved, in a pile of your clothes, but why?

Deciding not to spend too much time dwelling on a piece of clothing, you let it fall on the dresser and stepped out of your heels. You glanced between your shoes and the pants you had left here, suddenly regretting your choice to forego the flats you were contemplating with earlier, but you accepted the fact you were going to have to make it work. After all, it was either that or stick with the dress, and that was the last thing you were going to do. 

You had shed the fleece leggings, tossing them on the floor somewhere before you were grasping at the zipper of your dress trying to free yourself from it, but it seemed to be stuck. No matter how hard you tugged or what position you stood in, it just wasn’t budging. You tried pulling the sleeves over your shoulders to pull it down, but the fabric wasn’t flexible enough and kept you trapped in its stupid confinement. Letting out a defeated groan, you stared at the door knowing that your only hope at freedom was right down the hall.

“Hey, Quinn,” You called out, sticking your head through the break in the door, “Can you come help me really quick?”

“Uh, yeah,” You hear him shout in response, “Be there in a sec.”

You leave the door cracked open enough that he would know to come right in and awkwardly stood near the end of the bed with your hands clasped in front of you as you rocked on your feet. There was a small bout of nervousness forming in your chest at the idea that Quinn was quite literally about to help you undress, but you tried to snuff it out by reminding yourself that it was just a friendly thing. A friend helping out another friend. Just two friends who are friendly. 

“What’s up,” He says as soon as he steps through the doorway, his eyes darting up to your hair that you’d messed up during your zipper induced frustration, “Everything okay?”

The second you saw Quinn, you felt everything around you come to a screeching halt. He had gotten rid of his suit jacket, but he was still wearing the white button up that was underneath. Only now, the first few buttons were undone and the sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, and it made you completely lose the ability to function properly until you heard him call out your name again. 

“Sorry,” You sheepishly murmur as you shake your head, “Sorry. I just, uh, I need some help with the zipper on my dress. I think it’s stuck and I can’t get it.”

“Oh,” Quinn breathes out, visibly swallowing before he nods, “Yeah, okay. I can do that. No problem. Easy money.” 

He mumbles a few more things under his breath as he walks towards you, but they were too low for you to understand. You nervously turn around so that your back was towards him, your heart pounding in your chest and your ears ringing as you waited with baited breath. You can hear the unevenness of Quinn’s breathing behind you, the sound telling you that he was just as nervous about this as you were. Though you didn’t let yourself believe it was for the same reasons, no matter how badly you wanted it to be. 

“I’m gonna—,” Quinn stutters, his fingers ghosting over the exposed skin of your upper back, “I’m going to try and do it now.”

All you managed in response was a small, curt nod, not trusting yourself to speak when he was so close to you. You can feel the pressure from his hand, but you can tell that he’s being careful to not actually touch you. To not let his fingers brush against your soft skin the way that you desperately wanted him to. Your body reacted before your mind could, your feet shuffling back so you were closer to him and he had less room to pull away, but he didn’t move. 

He stayed in the same spot, this time letting his knuckles graze your spine as he effortlessly tugged the zipper down until it came to a stop just above the curve of your ass. A trail of goosebumps chased his fingers, leaving the skin behind them on fire and your body shuddering when he slowly pulls away. Every nerve in your body was burning with months worth of desire to feel more, to feel him on every inch of your body in ways that a friend shouldn’t. It was making your sense of reasoning cloudy, but maybe that was exactly what you needed. 

“Quinn,” You whisper, your eyes fluttering closed as you hesitantly turn to face him, “Can I ask you something?”

When you find the courage to meet his gaze, it felt like time was beginning to crawl, teasing and testing you to the point of breaking. It felt like the world was putting everything on pause for you until you decided what you wanted. To decide if you were willing to risk what felt like everything on the off chance that the guy in front of you was willing to do the same. 

“You can ask me anything,” He softly affirms, looking at you with a gaze so intense it makes your knees grow weak. 

“What would you say if I told you I wanted you to kiss me,” You shakily mutter as you feel the gap between the two of you closing. You’re not entirely sure who was initiating it, maybe it was both of you, but it didn’t matter. 

“I’d say that we shouldn’t,” He declares, his eyes dropping to your lips, “That your dad is my coach and I don’t know if we should take a risk that big.”

His face was barely two inches away from you now, and you can feel his breath fanning your face as anticipation builds in the lower part of your stomach. You barely register the way he was cradling your jaw in your palm until his thumb was brushing over your lips, sending a shiver down your spine and one of your sleeves slipping off your shoulder. 

“Do you want to know what I would say to that,” You subtly challenge, looking up at him through your lashes, “I’d say that sometimes the risk is worth the reward.” 

The words had barely gotten out of your mouth before Quinn was slamming his lips on yours in a kiss so blinding that you had to grab a hold of his shoulder to keep yourself steady. His mouth was moving against yours so desperately, so fervent and yearning for more as his hand slid to cup the back of your head and he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Heat coursed throughout your entire body as you clung to Quinn, as you use his body to keep yourself from toppling over from how hard he was kissing you. 

His other hand finds purchase on your hip as he carefully guides your body backwards until you can feel the mattress on the backs of your thighs. You let your body fall against it, Quinn following closely behind until he’s hovering over you and your hands are tangled in his hair. You’re tugging at the roots, coy smirk tugging at your lips when he groans against your mouth, and one of your legs is hooked behind him to pull him even closer to you. 

You can feel his bulge pressed on the inner part of your thigh as he grinds against you, applying pressure to the one spot you needed him the most. A soft moan slips through your lips with each passing movement he makes, and Quinn nearly comes undone from the sound alone.  The idea of still trying to meet up with his friends had already been fleeting the second he walked into the room, but now it wasn’t even an afterthought. All he could think about was you. The way you looked, the way you felt, the way you sounded. Quinn was willing to give up anything and everything as long as he got to have that. As long as he got to have you.

me and open, vague endings are besties if you couldn't tell ;)

[haliotropes]

Oh My Love (Damien Karras x GN Reader Pt. 1)

(Pt. 2)

Summary: Reader (non-gendered) is completing their master's capstone at none other than Holy Trinity church. And guess who is starting to have a crisis of faith?

Rating: M

Tags: religious imagery and symbolism, catholic guilt, priest kink, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, gn reader, queer characters, realistic depictions of anxiety attacks, s*icide, foul language, eventual sm*t

November is cold in Georgetown.

Four years of your Master’s studies has taken you from Penn State to Rome, to the hills and valleys of the East, and back to Georgetown now, to take up a scribe’s position with Holy Trinity Church.

You’ve never been a scribe, at least not for money. But you can’t pass up this opportunity. Georgetown is only an hour and a half from where you grew up, and it is a pleasant enough little town.

It’s your first day so you’ve dressed in your smartest sweater and slacks. Your coat is a hair too big. You bought it for five dollars at a second-hand store in town with the aim to grow into it, though you’re fully grown.

A worn cassette player is nestled delicately in your pocket. What money you’d saved on the coat you spent on a nice pair of Vanco headphones so you can listen to your music in peace. Today, it’s John Lennon.

It’s a little after nine when you reach the church- earlier than you’d planned, but that was a symptom of neuroses. You had to be early to everything.

You creak open the great wooden doors to the church, clicking off the music and resting your headphones on your neck. Within it was warm and smelled sweetly of incense. The gentle wood beneath your feet gives a little with each step you take and soon you’re in the nave of the church. It’s not very crowded, only six or seven people, but at the altar, beginning mass is a priest in a green chasuble. He’s impossible to miss. He’s intense yet carries a softness in his voice as he reads aloud passages. His black hair falls into his eyes and you feel the sudden desire to swipe it away.

You promptly push the thought away and linger in the back as the pipe organ strikes up and the small crowd begins singing.

You must lose yourself in the ceremony of it all because soon things are wrapping up. You blink away the haze of just watching it all and straighten.

“Pardon me, y/l/n?”

You turn to find a priest standing beside you. He has a wide smile and clean-cropped hair.

“Yes, that’s me. Are you Father Dyer?”

He nods and extends a hand for you to shake and you do. The music begins again and the bells strike.

“I am. Thank you so much for coming. I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“I was, but I showed up early. I always do- can’t help it. It was nice,” you nod to the altar but the other priest is gone and the parishioners are dispersing.

“It’s nice to hear. How does it feel to be back in Georgetown? I saw on your resume that you got your undergrad here.”

“It’s familiar so it’s comfortable.”

You keep it at that. No reason to dredge up why you constantly reassure yourself about living here. It’s a nice town. It’s close to home.

You falter for a moment when the other priest approaches the two of you. He’s dressed down to the typical long-sleeved button-up and slacks. And he wears them well.

“Ah, Damien! This is y/n. Y/n, this is Father Damien Karras. He serves as priest and psychiatrist here at Holy Trinity.”

You shake hands and note how well they fit together. “Double duty? How'd that happen?”

“Holy Trinity made me an offer I couldn't refuse,” he says with an earnest smile. “What brings me here, if you don't mind my asking?”

“Work, hopefully,” you reply, catching Dyer's eye. He smiles and nods.

“Y/n is completing their Master's capstone in transcribing religious texts. Georgetown sent them here to study our collection.”

This seems to pique Damien's interest.

“And what are you looking for in our collection?”

You unsuccessfully attempt to hide a blush as the truth of the matter comes to light.

“Truthfully, I'm analyzing for mistranslations. Not that I think I'll find something no one else has before, but maybe I'll write it down in a new and interesting way.”

Both men nod, and if either of them are uncomfortable they hide it exceptionally well. This reassures you a little.

“Well, welcome to Holy Trinity. If you need anything, I have an office on the second floor.”

“Do you have office hours for spiritual counseling?”

Damien cracks a smile and even gives you a chuckle for that one.

“No, the spiritual door is always open. It was nice meeting you. Joseph,” he addresses Father Dyer then exits from a side corridor. You watch as he goes, for some reason wholly fascinated with the way he spoke to you and the rich contrast of it against his preaching. You often forget that priests are people too.

Just…usually not people that you find attractive.

“So,” Dyer begins, clapping his hands together in a way that shakes you from your thoughts. “Have they got you set up with a place to live?”

You nod. “An apartment on Prospect Street by those tall stairs. It's nice enough. So, when can I start?”

“As soon as you'd like. We can get you situated in one of the studies in the back corridor so you won't be disturbed. It has easy access to the library.”

The reality of it begins to set in. Your own study and unlimited access to ancient texts? It was every grad student’s dream.

“That sounds wonderful, Father Dyer. Thank you. Is it alright if I return tomorrow to get started? I have some supplies I need to get before settling in.”

“Of course. I’ll let Father Merrin know you’re here. He’s about to leave for an archaeological dig, but I’m sure he could spare a moment to talk to you about translating Latin. It’s one of his favorite pastimes.”

That you didn’t expect. Father Merrin is something of a legend around Georgetown. Prolific, with a deep voice that people found both calming and demanding. He often left Holy Trinity for things like digs, or pilgrimages. You never thought you’d get the chance to meet the man.

“I- that would be spectacular. I’ve always wanted to meet him.”

“Alright, I’ll get it set up for tomorrow if I can. Have a good day, y/n.”

With that Father Dyer leaves. With butterflies in your tummy, you depart as well, welcoming the cool air of Georgetown as you take the first steps into what is shaping up to be a wonderful adventure.

[ink-and-dagger]

Do you happen to also be a Silco x Vander x reader throuple enjoyer like myself? Lol

I don’t seek it out, but I wouldn’t scroll past if it appeared on my dash.

I very much enjoyed @chickenparm’s fic Forever and @kikorenart’s accompanying artwork

But if we’re talking Silco x Reader x ? throuples then my vote is gonna go to sad pathetic loser Marcus every time.

If what you’re actually asking is would I consider writing any… maybe. I’m not against the idea, but I have a lot of other things I’d rather write first. If I ever open for commissions then that’s probably the most likely chance of me writing any Vanco x Reader.

[tweek-tweak22]