#drunk joe quinn
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SHOTS!
Joseph Quinn x reader
Summary: you find yourself in a bar taking shots with Joseph Quinn and leaving with his phone number
words: 1,5 k
A/n: felt inspired by the Spain Story to finally start writing again! Big Thanks to @icallhimjoey for giving my brain a kick to keep me on track, much love!
Unsure of what distraction you wanna go after at the moment you lay cuddled up on your couch and switching between scrolling through your phone and watching some sitcom playing on the TV, which occasionally gets an amused Snort out of you.
It was Saturday and after an exhausting week, you told yourself that you needed a weekend for yourself and maybe clean up your flat, do the dishes, bring out the trash or do some sport. But this was another you plans which has no similarity to this you who was scrolling through memes for over two hours now, with trash and dishes still happily lying in the kitchen, untouched.
A new notification stirred you out of your trance-like state and you saw that one of your friends send you a message with a picture attached to it
- " Isn't this that bloke you're obsessed with the whole summer?? We're partying with him he's buying everyone shots!!! "
- image attached -
No fucking way.
You abruptly sat up, clinging to your phone with sweaty hands and zooming in on the picture with shaking fingers. There he was, Joseph fucking Quinn in the same bar as your friends, which you canceled on because of your stupid healthy second personality.
- " holy shit no way, I'm coming over!! Nobody fucking moves!!" you quickly type back
TV and phone forgotten and with a blanket still tangled around your legs, you stumbled through your flat to make yourself somewhere decent looking in record time, because no way are you meeting your celebrity crush for over 6 months in your pyjamas.
Surprised by yourself and the uber system you achieved to stand approximately thirty minutes after you received the text message, in front of the dimly lit bar from which a remarkable amount of chatter is coming off already, busy night for sure
You wriggled your way through drunk people towards your group of friends who already are beckoning you over with tipsy waving.
'' you got to be kidding me, the one weekend I cancel on you my future husband is in the same fucking bar! " you babble straight away, your way of greeting.
" Either he wants us all to know that he's rich or that he's British " "or both" "but this man actually turned on a timer and every 20 minutes he's giving out shots" two of your friends giving you a recap of what happened in your absence
" we already got our rounds from him, you want some? " your other friend asks, and you looked at her with wide eyes and then at the table with a round of tequila shots, most of them already empty. Nodding quickly and right away drowned two tequila shots, desperate for some drunk confidence. Screwing your eyes shut for a second, embracing the burning feeling going down your throat
"holy shit, I can't believe he's really here"
" well let's go, talk to him"
Looking at her like she grew three heads " what... What do I even say to him?! Hello, I cried harder over Eddie's death than at my grandma's funeral?!"
" I bet he's already so drunk that he would just say thank you and offer you another shot"
Taking a big breath and focusing your eyes on the man in question at the center of the bar, a mop of tousled curls surrounded by a group of apparently other fans or just people who gladly engage with him in exchange for free booze.
Taking all your courage, and with shaking legs you made your way to the counter, sweaty hands grabbing the edge of it, just to have something to hold onto. You stand now only a few meters away from the very man you watched interviews of at 2am while giggling like an idiot.
Just as you rummage your brain for a charming but funny way to grab his attention, a shrill beeping sound went off, making you jump a little, and he suddenly swirled around, big brown eyes meeting yours, and shouted " SHOTS! " right at your face.
and before you know it you stand in a bar, in the middle of sweaty and drunk people taking tequila shots with Joseph Quinn.
Take that for a first impression.
Slamming the shot glass a little too hard on the counter and giving a comically 'whoop' from him, a few drops of tequila running down his chin you seriously asked yourself why the hell you were so nervous to meet him because now he reminded you more of your drunk uncle when watching sports games. But instead of your uncle, Joseph Quinn managed to look hot even when swaying and alcohol breath coming off from him, or you just were already in too deep.
" hi I'm Joe!" he shouted at you over the noise
As if he needed to introduce himself you thought but told him your name
"I don't live under a rock I recognize the man of the year when he stands in front of me"
"Oh shut up" he snorts a bashful smile on his face now
" no you are very subtle about it, even got a shot timer and everything! " you both started giggling and his hand finds balance on your arm like you didn't just meet each other 5 minutes ago
"in my defense..." he holds up his finger but dropped It again as nothing comes to his mind "I don't know I guess I'm just very British" and you both started giggling again. Intoxicated minds turning everyone into a stand-up comedian and best friend for one night.
After a few more drunk small talk and giggling you looked at him wide-eyed like a light bulb just went off inside your head
"ohh by the way British, I'm actually in London next month! Let's meet up!! " your voice getting louder with your enthusiasm and his eyes grew even wider at your information
"fuck you're kidding! That's awesome! We should totally hang, wait imma give you my number so you can text when you're there yeah?!"
You both fumbled with your phones, squinting at the sudden brightness and trying to make out the blurry numbers. Both way too excited over the possibility of meeting up again.
Right after, the next alarm comes off from Joe's phone and you linked your arms together and gulped each other's shots.
As the night continues you both lose count and conversations turned indefinite and slurred until you both part ways with the promise to meet each other again and a toddler-like hug, literally just holding onto each other so nobody falls.
...
You woke up the next morning and wished you wouldn't wake up at all anymore, glad you're actually lying in your own bed with clothes on but with what reward?! The biggest headache you ever felt and vomit already crawling up your throat. Hangovers were no fun but especially not after reaching the age of over twenty.
Around noon you felt good enough to finally check your phone, maybe it can help to fill your missing memories from last night if you even wanted to know.
The first thing you saw was a new message from your friend with an image attached to it, deja vu
"oh no" you mumbled shocked as some memories came back to you, very surreal memories!
In the picture, you and Joseph fucking Quinn, linking arms and taking a shot
Your friend's message under it
- '' thought you wanted to frame this <3"
Idiot.
Hastily scrolling through your contacts, not sure if your memories are wishful thinking or reality and in fact, under the letter J was a new contact
- Joeeeeee q.
Your stupid ass remembers telling him to put the Q behind his name so you can remember which one he is. As if you know so many other Joe's.
Now panic. You have joseph Quinn's number. Result of a very drunken night. Which he for sure doesn't remember. Does it even matter if you write him, He probably won't respond. You could just enjoy it and live in a daydream about him like all the other days before.
But otherwise...
You're staring at the message you typed in and your thumb hovers over the send button... It's now or never
- " was a pleasure to meet the man of the year last night! I don't remember much and you surely even less but I think we wanted to meet up next month when I'm in London" With your name under it, on second thought you even send the image your friend made of you both right after it.
Right after you click send you made an inhuman squeak sound, chuck your phone away from you and throw yourself face down on your bed again, face squished in a pillow and regretting every life decision you ever made.
After doing literally anything to busy yourself the Bing for a new notification on your phone makes you stop in your tracks while holding a now clean dish in your hand
"Please let this be mum, please let this be mum" mumbling under your breath while speedwalking into your bedroom again, anxiety unbearable
Taking a deep breath and opening your phone you saw that it was in fact not your mum writing you
- "you're right I don't remember shit, feeling like it too. How are you doing?"
-" do I really look like that when taking a shot?! "
From Joeeeeee q.
(reblogs and comments are very appreciated additional to your likes)
#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn#joe quinn#joseph quinn fanfiction#joe quinn fanfic#fanfiction#drunk joe quinn
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#joseph quinn#joe quinn#oscars 2024#i cant believe she called him jeff#he is going to get so drunk tonight after that
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No one asking for this:
I want to see Joseph Quinn in Drunk History
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001 - fuck montrose
Soho — 03:45 A.M ( Catherine Steel )
The devil isn't always a little red man with horns, a long pointed tail, sometimes he can be handsome. And Rhys Montrose was the most beautiful demon Catherine had ever seen.
Blue-eyed, stocky, almost territorial in posture, and showered with all the English class, Montrose wore his elegance in a different way than London's rich men, who paraded around covered in gold and diamonds, showing off their fat wallets at Soho parties. . He had a fat wallet, but he didn't show it off. Rhys carried his bullion in an old, battered bag.
"My God, it's Montrose!" - Jess said giving me an elbow, which made me drop my drink.
“What the fuck. Why did it?"
"You did not see? Rhys is right there"
Jess's eyes almost popped out of their sockets they were so wide. She gave him that psychopath smile, teeth clenched, and waved at him. That Rhys Montrose grinned and waved back briefly as he walked down the club stairs. Down the stairs, on the last step, a small group of people gathered and pulled out their cell phones, pointing at Rhys, who just gave them a restrained smile, no teeth showing.
I didn't live in a cave, it was obvious I already knew who Rhys Montrose was. He became one of hundreds of celebrities with a bad history behind stardom who were "unassumingly" paraphrased in a few paragraphs in a booklet with an iconic cover that happened to be at the top of the Times for enough weeks to be placed on one of those lists. "Books You Must Read Before You Die" on the Internet. Yeah, I knew him, as did everyone else in that club.
“He's literally the hottest man I've ever seen in my life."
"Close your mouth before drool falls into your drink."
I laughed and Jess elbowed me again.
"He is...
" Incredible? Wonderful? Intelligent..."
"Married. I interrupted."
"In divorce proceedings, according to the Daily Mail.'
I rolled my eyes. Jesse really had a thing for married men.
She went on and on about how hot Rhys was but I was too tired to listen so I left her with a group of girls who were also talking about Rhys and walked off with my drink in the opposite direction of the fuss and whispers.
Leaving the Montrose fan club behind, I started looking at how the rich worked, and boy was it bizarre. The world of high society was more complex than I imagined. Moving between the millionaire groups I heard conversations about bitcoins, shares in the stock exchange, I took a few more steps and soon I heard about a sexual abuse case that was covered up by a supreme court judge last week, more steps forward and I heard about how the Europe was stupid to free the slaves and behead their Kings, after all, in the world there are only two types of people:
The hunt.
And the hunter.
My drunken walk took me to a secluded spot in the club. A place where loud music was nothing more than an annoying noise muffled by the walls. A kind of room, which I didn't hesitate to enter, with a spacious bed that I also didn't hesitate to throw myself on. The sensation of zigzagging between the limit of sobriety and the unconscious attracted me in a unique way, I liked the feeling of walking on a rope, where one wrong step could be fatal.
Even drunk I was acutely aware that I shouldn't be there, and the fact that I was taking off my dress and heels and rolling around in an overly comfortable bed was going to get me into trouble soon, but I just didn't care. I took a step in the opposite direction of sobriety that night.
Damn it. It was the first thing I thought of when I opened my eyes.
I got up from the bed more slowly than I would have liked, the icy wind coming from the balcony reminded me that I was still wearing my bra and panties, I snorted loudly when I touched the plush carpet in the room, I took a deep breath before I got up to get up , but my stay on two legs was brief, as I landed in a sitting position. in bed again. It was obvious that my stupid brain was still too drunk to do the simple task of keeping me on my feet. I huffed again and after the third try I just gave in to gravity and slammed my bare back into the mattress.
“You made the list of things not to do when you're drunk. Congratulations. "
I looked in the direction of the voice and there it was; Rhys Montrose, sitting in the armchair in the darkest corner of the room. Legs crossed as he slowly swirled a glass of whiskey in his hand.
“You found my secret hiding place." He smiled.
“What are you doing here?”
"I was going to ask you the same thing."
I swallowed hard. Sober or not, I was going to get out of there as soon as possible. I gathered all my strength and got to my feet. I gripped the headboard as hard as I could and grabbed my dress off the floor and put it on, grabbed the silver heels and staggered to the door. But it was clear that my knees were still sleeping and forgetting to support me.
Rhys chuckled as he landed on the floor, not caring if I was listening or not.
" What's the fun"
"Other than your dress being backwards and you being so drunk you couldn't stand up?"
“Fuck off. I don't know what you think is going to happen here, but you're wrong."
"Do you know what's going to happen here?" He set his glass on the side table and leaned forward, clasping his hands together. The thick gold ring that rested on her thumb gleamed in the moonlight. “You'll try to get up, take half a step, and fall again. Get hurt and somehow it will end up on the front page of the Daily Mail tomorrow, with my name next to the word attacked.
" What do you want?"
"To help you"
“I don't need your help. And once again, nothing will happen here-"
“If I wanted to do something to you, young lady, I would have done it in the last three hours you've spent passed out and drooling on my bed."
“Fuck you, Montrose."
I leaned against one of the bookshelves and managed to get up.
Panting and unnecessarily sweaty, but on her feet.
I sucked in as much air as my lungs could hold and took the first step, onto my back, looking directly at Rhys. With one step after another I approached the door. I leaned on the handle when I thought I was going to fall, but on impact it broke, but somehow I caught on to the coat rack and I didn't actually fall before Rhys, who jumped up from his chair, came closer. .
With some difficulty I managed to get the door open and glanced at Montrose's stout figure before walking away.
(( summary here ₊˚✧ˎ
#rhys montrose x you#rhys montrose x reader#rhys montrose#rhys montrose fanfiction#fanfiction#bad boy#wattpad#netflix#joe goldberg#love quinn#young adult#smut#drunk kink
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Teach Me How To Love In Your Own Lyrics
(Part seven)
Prev. Part one
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He wasn’t going to lie. After a month of hotel breakfast, it was starting to get disgusting. Constant toast made with old bread and some of the crappiest cups of coffee ever. If he was extremely lucky, he’d get a waffle. He’d do anything to get a signature Hawkins diner French toast stick. He thinks it’s so dumb that they will be gone for three whole months and only have 12 concerts. As much as he loves his band and all the fans, he can’t wait for tour to be over. He wants to sleep in his own bed for a day. He wants see his uncle and feed the cats outside the trailer. He wants to stay up all night watching crappy movies with his friends. He especially wants to see Steve. He really really missed him. It was weird. He could hardly stand to be without him. He wonders what he was doing now. Is he even upset that Eddie left?
“Hellooo? Earth to eddie?” Freddie called out waving his hands in front of his face, “Gareth said he’s dedicating to Abby tonight.” At every concert they took turns dedicating the show to someone. Abby was Gareth’s little sister. She was 14 and was probably the sweetest kid he’d ever met.
“He’s too busy moping over his boyfriend,” Jeff sighed.
Pardon? He has a boyfriend that he wasn’t aware of? “Excuse me?”
“I said that you’re too busy mop-“
“No I heard you I’m just confused. What boyfriend?” They all laughed and he just stared blankly in return. When Gareth noticed he looked shocked.
“Steve? You aren’t dating?” Woah. How did they come to this conclusion?
“No?!”
“Really?” Freddie exclaimed, “there is no way! Have you seen you two?!”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?! How did you come to this conclusion?” They all looked at each other with concern. How would anyone think that.
“I don’t know,” Jeff sighed, “it’s just… nothing man never mind, forget it.”
“Okay I’m sorry but,” Gareth started, “you do like him though right?” Wow. Rude. Just expose all of his secrets like it’s nothing. Without his consent! He felt personally attacked and harassed, so he denied.
“No way!” They all smirked. That snarky little smirk they used to get whatever they wanted. And it always worked, “oh my gooood fine. Yes. I have a massive gay crush on Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington! Happy?”
“Very,” Jeff said, “and it was extremely obvious. Why aren’t you dating?” Is this a real life question?
“Ummm hello? Steve is very obviously straight.” They did that weird look again! What is up with them?
“Sure man. Let’s just go… we have shows to preform,” Gareth clapped once and stood up. Today was concert number 5 so that means almost halfway done! One and a half months until he gets to see- oh god. It was obvious.
They grabbed their few bags and headed to the bus. It wasn’t too bad. They had a few too many blankets so at least it was cozy. They were currently in Southern Wyoming. Their next concert was in Denver. The roads were empty and there was nothing outside. He spent most of the ride with his Walkman and two pens so he can drum on his legs (Gareth hates when he does this, claiming it’s ‘his thing’).
He must’ve fallen asleep at some point because 3 hours later he woke up to Jeff screaming about his excitement. He got up and walked to his sweetheart (despite Steve and Robin constantly making fun of him, they all named their instruments: Jeff’s guitar is named baby, Freddie’s bass is named hot stuff and last but certainly not least Gareth’s drums are named Daniel.) He picked it up and some parts of Gareth’s drum set. They walked about three blocks and made it to the stadium. It was nice to say the least.
They had 1 hour until people started to show up. 2 until showtime. They quickly set up to get in as much practice as they could. They stopped after 45 minutes so a) they’d have time to get ready and b) so their fingers wouldn’t bleed at any point of the night.
They adrenaline was high back stage. They smoked (they swear just a little bit) just to ease the anxiety. They got dressed and waited. And waited some more. Waited until there was 15 minutes to go on stage. They were now standing up screaming nonsense at each other. They did this before every show. For no reason. They should probably stop before they lose their voices before they even go to play.
When they were about to go out they all downed an energy drink like it was a shot. “You guys ready?” Jeff asked. When they all said no, they walked out.
They amount of people there never failed to amaze Eddie. They were all screaming and if that didn’t immediately boost their confidence, nothing would.
Gareth walked up to the microphone to start the show. “Hello Denver!” the crowd quite literally went wild, “it is an honor to be here and we’d like to thank you all for coming! As you may or may not know we always dedicate our shows to a special someone. Tonight we are dedicating to my lovely little sister Abby. She is so kind and probably my best friend,” all of the band looked at each other with their jaws dropped in offense, “any ways I love her and here. We. Go!” Gareth ran back to his seat to count off to their first song of the night.
Eddie found it easy to get lost in the music. He forgets the crowd is there and before he knows it they are in their last song. This song has always been and always will be his favorite. Eddie had written it in ‘89 at three in the morning. He called it ‘Invisible Man (I See You)’. He wrote it after Steve had told him everything. And he means everything. From his dad, to Tommy, to the reading, and even what he thinks of himself. Steve had said, “nobody sees me for who I am. They think I’m dumb and ‘only good for my charm’. Don’t get me wrong, I am very charming,” he faked a laugh, “I hate it Eddie. I really do. I wish everyone would stop. I feel… invisible.” He never told Steve about the song. He would probably hate him if he found out. That’s a really weird thing to do for someone who is only his best friend and won’t ever be anything more.
The song was still heavy but somehow a lot more calmer. Playing made Eddie feel good. Really good. None of the band knew what the song was about. They just saw how the lyrics were better than the rest of the songs (which was really hard to beat) and immediately started working on the beat.
They might look through.
But don’t worry invisible man,
I see you.
The crowd felt electrifying during the song. He felt like he was floating. He waited for the crowd to die down a bit before closing off, “Goodnight Denver! You have been amazing! Crossing our fingers we’ll get to come back!” And just like that one more show was done. They ran to the bus and went to their next hotel.
When they got there they all told each other how amazing they did and goodnight before going in their own rooms.
After today Eddie only had one thing to do, call the invisible man himself. Much to his disappointment, he didn’t pick up. So he did the next best thing, called Robin.
“Heeeelllllooooooooo? How may I help you at this hour?”
“Steve?”
“Eddie!!! How are you? I’ve missed you. Did you have a concert tonight?”
“I’ve missed you too Steve, are you drunk right now?” He could hear Robin shout on the other end.
“Edddiiiiieeee!” She shouted, “we are indeed very drunk. We just got back from a gay bar!,” now why on earth would Steve be at a gay bar? The world may never know, “Steve has been angry all night. So annoying! He only just now cheered up when he heard yoooouuuu.” He could hear Steve giggling and telling her to shut up, “okay I have to go to bed. And Eddie?”
“Hm?”
She whispered so Steve couldn’t hear despite his protests, “for the love of god, please come home early so I don’t have to hear Steve cry about you anymore. Okay byeeeee!” What? Steve cried? Over him? She was probably lying. She was clearly over the legal drinking limit.
“Hi.”
“Hi Stevie.”
“I wish you could come home.”
“Me too.”
“Why? You’re probably having soooo much fun!” He smiled at the phone. He needs to start making Steve drink more often.
He sighed, “I am, but I’d rather be home. With you.” Oh god. That was way too much.
…
“Well Steve, it’s getting late. And you need some sleep. I’ll call you in the morning okay?”
“Okay. Love you Eddie. Good night.” Oh. Well. That was weird. It made Eddie feel all warm and fuzzy inside. But Steve is drunk, so it couldn’t mean anything. (But he heard the way Steve said it. He wholeheartedly meant it.)
“Good night Stevie.” He could practically hear his frown over the phone and he couldn’t handle that right now so he put the phone down.
After 20 minutes of deep thinking about the phone call and what Robin said, he slept the best he had since leaving.
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Next
The Eddie part! Despite it being short this one is by far my favorite. Also, call me Dr Suess cause I be rhyming 😎. I’m so proud for making a song title and lyrics. Also completely ignore the changes in the last part and act like it was always there. I love Steve immediately becoming somehow more intoxicated when he hears Eddie’s voice. Thank you for reading this. Also does anyone actually read my little authors note? Blah blah blah no one cares! As always: comment or reblog to be tagged in future parts! (Also just know if you complimented me or said literally anything: I blushed and giggled like a manic. Thank you guys so much!)
Tag list: @asbealthgn @queerbeansworld @bird-with-pencils @vecnuthy @artiststarme @captain-winter-wolf-aehs @piningapple @rowendyss @steve-themom-harrington @lfaewrites @azreadytodie @thequeenrainacorn @pastel-dreamscape @importanttimemachinenerd @jehneeg @swagaliciousmarie @mightbeasleep @krazyperson @milkshakeflower @bumblebeecuttlefishes @fando-random @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @fluffyreturns @scheodingers-muppet @wonderland-girl143-blog
#IM SO HAPPY#I LOVE TGIS ONE#THEY ARE SO IN LOVE#I LOVE GIGGLY DRUNK STEVE#ITS MY REASON TO LIVE#welcome to todays episode of musical thanks today we have tv girl; MARINA; Lana Del Rey; ABBA (ofc); and last but CERTAINLY not least#heathers the musical#I love Barrett Wilbert Weed#i think the song I made was cute#homos 🙄#steddie#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#joe keery#joseph quinn#steveddie#rockstar!eddie#teacher!steve#steve harrington x eddie munson#they are in love your honor#gay steve harrington#gay eddie munson#Rockie#robin buckley#vickie stranger things#corroded coffin#gareth emerson#jeff stranger things#S4JKs Lyrics
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Wait people canceled Doja Cat because she... admitted to having a crush on Joe Quinn? In summer 2022? When everyone and their grandfather had a crush on Joe Quinn?
I am confusion.
#nor do i particularly care#but I'm wine drunk and have youtube on in the background while i write#some of us still have crushes on Joe Quinn!#some of us have had crushes on him since Les Mis 2018#cancel me i guess?
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Whenever Joe does that stupid tongue thing my brain automatically goes “whore”
Let me ruin you baby 😩
#i’m a lil drunk#but like FR#Joseph Quinn#Joe Quinn#Eddie munson#u know what ur doing u silly man I know it
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I’m out partying for Halloweekend rn but I’m stopping by to remind y’all to REAS MY BILLY FIC alsooooo follow if ur into Steve and Eddie cuz I plan to write for them too!!!! And if ur a stranger things blog who wants to talk to other stranger things blogs HMU!! I can’t follow back bc side blog butttt I can be friends and support y’all. L^__^
#I’m drunk as fuck sorry.#billy Hargrove#Steve Harrington#Eddie Munson#dacre montgomery#joseph quinn#joe keery#stranger things
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i’m at a xmas party and i have had too many glasses of wine and i just want to say that i’m excited to get amongst this fandom and community and trade filthy blurbs about jq and omg, everyone seems so lovely and wholesome and i’m so excited
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I clipped the best part of Joseph Quinn’s interview with Off-Menu.
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Define Close
♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: What good are flatmates even, if they don't comfort you when you need it most? Or when you need it a normal amount? Or, you know, when you don't really need it, but just really want it?
CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, hurt/comfort i guess? idk we're sad a lot and joe cheers us up a lot
Author’s note: this sort of came about after taking small little bits from several requests that i combined and then shaped into what i wanted for myself, and for a minute, i thought 'what if i don't make this one extremely self-indulgent for once' but then... why the fuck wouldn't i? so...
Wordcount: 2.7K
part one - part two - part three - part four - part five
One of those days.
You weren’t going to wait until you got home to ask Joe what pizza toppings he wanted. Not today. So you texted,
“peperoni or chicken?”
And it took just a few seconds for Joe to open Whatsapp and to reply.
“those my only two options?”
You didn’t have the mental capacity to even think of any other pizza toppings, let alone get into some banter over text with your flatmate.
“joe”
There were a million ways for Joe to have read that, to have interpreted that. Yet, he got the tone of it just right.
“don’t worry, i’ll take care of it”
No playing. Just quick solutions to problems of which Joe didn’t even really know what they were yet. Then another text from him followed, asking you the question you’d just sent him.
“peperoni or chicken?”
“chicken”
You remembered exactly when this pizza tradition started. Could pinpoint the exact date, time, and place.
“no i was wrong.”
“peperoni”
The first time you and Joe shared a pizza as new flatmates, was when you’d gotten home one morning, still very obviously in the outfit you’d left in the night before. Joe had been cooking up some breakfast in the kitchen and had his jokes ready, already grinning to himself when he hadn’t even seen you yet.
“Well, well, well,” he called over his shoulder as you took a moment by the front door to just... breathe. You would’ve tried gathering yourself, but there wasn’t much to gather.
“I know you said the plan was to go out and celebrate Friday, but you didn’t mention anything about Saturday morning,” you could hear the joy in Joe’s voice, all chipper and lively. He’d very clearly had a great night’s sleep, unlike you.
Joe heard footsteps, and when they stopped in the doorway, he turned his head to look. Spatula still in hand, eggs just about ready in the pan in front of him.
“Look at what the cat’s drag–...” the comment died on his tongue. “Jesus, are you all right?”
Joe had expected a tired, sloppy girl to have walked in. One with messy hair, eye make-up all smudged and sort of drunk a little, still.
He’d been right.
That was exactly what he was looking at, which should objectively be funny. Hence the smile that still lingered on his face as his brow slowly furrowed in confusion.
“You look like the inside of a shoe,”
Joe tried his hand at humour, but it fell completely flat.
What he hadn’t anticipated, was for his flatmate to look quite so sad in reaction to his comments. So very drained of life. You’d obviously been crying and looked like you hadn’t slept in weeks.
For a moment you just stood in that doorway, looked a little dazed because, um, why were you going into your shared living space again?
You needed your bed.
Without answering Joe, and without even really acknowledging him at all, you took a shuddering breath and slowly turned back around, only to ignore Joe’s question and disappear into the hallway.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Joe quickly turned the hob off and rounded the island to go after you. He was too late though, stepping into the hallway just as your bedroom door closed behind you. The immediate guilt that followed his poking-fun carried him over to stand in front of it, just enough self-restraint left to not just open your door and walk in right after you.
You didn’t seem like you needed to be pissed off any more than you already were.
From just outside of your bedroom door, you heard a very faint knock, followed by Joe’s voice, asking if you were all right once more.
“Did– did something happen? What’s going on?”
All you managed to do was sigh, just loud enough for Joe to catch it.
“What happened?”
But you didn’t want to get into it.
“Do you– hey,” Joe called your name, waited for a second, in case you wanted to answer him, but then when you didn’t, he followed it up with, “Do you want some breakfast?”
And honestly, breakfast sounded nice. But so did burying yourself into your duvet for a few days, where no one would try to look you in the eye, and where no one would try to make you talk. Were you going to listen to your rumbling stomach that wanted some food, or to the rest of your body that just wanted to be horizontal?
“Some scrambled eggs? Piece of toast?”
You milled it over in your mind.
“Or, I could make you something else? You want some yoghurt? With some berries in?”
Joe tried. Was actively trying. But it didn’t seem to work, just didn’t seem to do the trick. It stayed silent on your side of the door.
“Some pizza?”
And it was meant as a careful joke. A hopeful small little thing to at least lift the mood, if nothing else. If you were even still listening to him at all, that was.
He was about to tell you that he’d be in the kitchen if you needed anything, that you could just let him know. No worries if not. But then he heard rustling. Stumbling footsteps, followed by your bedroom door slowly opening.
“Hey,” Joe cocked his head to the side at the sight of you, his eyes all soft, forehead crinkled with worry. “I’m sorry.”
You looked right past him.
“What... what kind of pizza?”
You focused on the important things instead. Didn’t really care to acknowledge Joe’s apology.
“Well,” Joe tried to hide his smile as he looked down at his feet before stepping aside and holding an arm out, inviting you to walk ahead of him, making your way back into the living area. “I think there’s a few to choose from in the freezer.”
You’d shared a pizza that morning, you sat at one of the stools of the kitchen island, and Joe stood on the side. He hadn’t asked you any questions then, but instead had just tried his hand at light conversation until suddenly, halfway through a slice, you’d started sobbing.
And it wasn’t like you and Joe had never hugged before.
But you’d never been hugged by him like that before.
Where Joe instantly dropped his food and stepped closer to fold arms around you. Where Joe got an arm around your head to press your face into his chest whilst the other curled down around your shoulders that pressed your chest into his stomach. Where he decided he wasn’t going to be the one to pull back first, and so you’d just embraced like that for over half an hour.
He hadn’t asked you any questions.
Not when you cried.
Not when you’d stuttered through breaths as you tried to recollect yourself after.
Not when you eventually pulled back and reached for another bite of now-cold pizza.
Not when you then silently frowned at the hardened cheese and softly sighed to yourself.
Not when you did eventually retreat back into your room but came out just a minute later and asked if Joe had any plans that day.
Even if he did have plans, Joe knew that he’d cancel them all for you.
“Want to rot on the sofa with me? Watch films all day?”
And you hadn’t meant to fall asleep all sagged into his side then, but you had. And Joe had played with the ends of your hair until the warmth and comfort had pulled him into a nap as well.
You’d never talked about what had happened then, why you had been so sad, because you didn’t need to. It was nice that Joe hadn’t asked for you to explain why you’d cried, and instead had just comforted you until you managed to smile for him again.
Joe thought that maybe, if you wanted to tell him, one day you would. But he didn’t need to know why his flatmate was sad when she was. He was happy just being there to help and fix it.
And now, here you were. Two flatmates who shared a tradition of having pizza and watching a film when you’d had a bad day.
And today had just been... long. Hard. Frustrating. You didn’t want to get into all the things that had nearly pushed you over the edge, and you were glad that you didn’t need to.
Joe didn’t ask questions. Never did.
Just went to get you the peperoni pizza you’d asked for.
Would cuddle you on the sofa all night if that was what you wanted.
It was what he wanted, anyway.
He was well aware that none of that was normal though.
You were flatmates.
If Joe referred to you in conversation with a friend, with a family member, or even with a stranger, you were his flatmate. The girl that he shared the living area of his flat with. The pantry, the fridge and the freezer. The coat closet by the door. A letterbox downstairs by the entrance.
Flatmates.
But if someone were to ask you if you and your flatmate were friends too, you’d tell them yes of course. You shared dinner more often than not. If you had friends ‘round, Joe would hang out too. And vice versa.
Normal.
Just normal friendly flatmates that also knew each other’s parents by their first names, but you know, those things sort of just came with sharing a living space together, right?
And no one ever really thought there was more to you and Joe, anyway.
Why would they even assume?
You dated other people. Went on regular dates with different men. Other guys. Would even sometimes sit and watch a film with someone, and Joe would join you for a little while. Have casual conversation with whoever you’d invited over.
Normal.
What wasn’t so normal was that the second it would just be you and Joe, you wouldn’t hesitate to touch if you wanted to touch. Wouldn’t hesitate to find him, wherever he’d be, and sling your arms around his stomach from behind, just to hold him for a minute. Would wait to get comfortable on the sofa until Joe would join you there and you’d wait for his arm to find its way around you before you’d settle in.
You never talked about it.
It was just what it was like. You were close. The affection was just a natural thing between the two of you. It didn’t need any words. Any explaining.
But Joe knew you both understood that this could be interpreted very differently through other people’s eyes.
It’s why you kept referring to each other as flatmates, and why you weren’t like that in front of other people.
Which was fine.
You lived together.
There was plenty of time without other people there.
When you walked into your flat that evening, the promise of a shared peperoni pizza combined with the contrasting warmth that immediately made you feel uncomfortably hot in your coat, was nearly enough to bring you to tears.
“Joe?”
“Hey, bad news,”
Oh no.
Joe appeared at the other end of the hallway.
“They didn’t have any Sprite left, so I got you a Fanta.”
You let your shoulders drop and let your head fall to the side in relief. That was hardly bad news. You didn’t love Fanta, but the bad news revealed Joe had gone out to get a pizza instead of throwing a frozen one into the oven.
“Fanta’s fine.” You smiled. Joe easily copied it.
“Good, okay. Now,” Joe continued, suddenly his face all serious again as you took your coat off and toed your shoes off. “I know that last time, I got to pick a film, so technically it is your turn... but, I’ve already chosen something to watch, and I did go out to get us the largest peperoni pizza London has to offer, so...”
You stilled and gave an exaggerated sigh, all mock frustration, because you honestly didn’t give a shit. If anything, it was nice that Joe had made the choice for you, seeing as you didn’t really have the mental capacity for any decisions right now. If it had been left up to you, you’d hav been scrolling through Netflix for at least half an hour until settling just to watch some celebrity panel shows on Channel 4.
“No sprite and I don’t get to choose the film?”
“I’m sorry,” Joe was trying stupidly hard to hide a smile.
You blinked at him a second.
“You’re not sorry.”
“No I’m not. You made me go out and it’s fucking freezing outside today.”
You made your way over to your bedroom to get changed, and just before disappearing, you said, “Cool way of letting me know you’ve not left the flat all day.”
Like Joe’s hair hadn’t told you as much already.
You wished your job would let you work from home too. Although, with Joe spending weird stretches of time just sitting around and reading, you didn’t think you’d get much work done. Would probably be a bit weird if you logged onto a zoom meeting from your spot on the sofa, half of Joe in frame.
“I did leave the flat! I just said!” Joe argued, leaving you to get into a more comfortable outfit.
You grinned to yourself.
Joe was an idiot.
In an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of joggers, you joined Joe in the living room where you found a large pizza box on the coffee table, two cans of Sprite next to it.
Sprite.
“Surprise.”
Joe had lied.
Then you looked at the TV screen, paused at the title of the film Joe’d chosen and, fuck all the way off, did he want you to cry?
“I know it’s not your genre...”
It was. It absolutely was. It wasn’t Joe’s genre, though. “But I promise you’ll like it.”
You didn’t know if you wanted to hook an elbow to his jaw or squeeze your nails into his cheeks, but you needed to do something to get this surge of emotion out.
You opted for swearing at him instead of physical violence.
“I fucking hate you so much right now,”
“Yea?” Joe sat down, pressing play on the remote and reaching for the throw blanket. “Come hate me over here.”
And so you did.
Sat down next to Joe, thigh to thigh, and let him sort the blanket so it covered the both of you before leaning over to grab the pizza box.
The heat coming from the pizza quickly found your legs through the blanket and through your joggers. It was a stark comparison to how cold your fingers still felt from your trek home.
You rubbed them together as Joe opened the pizza box and, shit, that looked good.
“You cold?”
“Just my fingers,” you replied, already putting both hands to use, ripping the pieces of crust that hadn’t been cut properly and lifting a slice out of the box.
Joe did the same, and then when he saw one of your hands lower down, he was quick to grab it, encasing your cold fingers into his large palm.
The act of being upset with him for being nice faltered, and you smiled at Joe as he smugly grinned whilst he chewed.
See, had someone else been there with you, you’d have gotten comments. If not jokes, at least you knew you would’ve gotten some judging looks. Some questions later, about what was going on between the two of you?
Nothing was going on between the two of you.
Just warm cuddles and comforting touches, which was fine when it was just you and Joe.
So what if Joe held your hand whilst you ate pizza and watched a romantic comedy together?
So what if a piece of peperoni was about to slide and fall to your chest, but Joe saw and got it just in time, and you thought he was going to pop it into his own mouth, but then instead he held it up in front of you and waited till you ate it from his fingers?
So what if, after finishing the pizza, Joe planted his feet on the coffee table and pulled you into his side a little? Grabbed your arm to lay over his stomach? Ended up with both arms slung around, his own fingers locking on your back to keep you in place whilst you watched actors older than the both of you act as if they were in their early twenties still?
Life was just more comfortable when it was filled with good snuggles, you and Joe both agreed.
But you never talked about it.
You were just close.
No questions asked.
Flatmates. Friends. Just, close.
---
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Midnight smoking with Joe, fluffy stuff, lingering touches sharing cigarettes.
Midnight Company
Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: Joe couldn't sleep because there was something he couldn't stop thinking about, and you just came home from a failed attempt of meeting someone at the pub because you couldn't seem to be so interested in anyone at all. However, you both knew there was a reason why you both couldn't keep your minds clear.
Author's Note: This request has been sitting in my inbox, and I have been wanting to do it. So, here you go! :)
Wordcount: 2K
“Ah, I see you’re still awake.”
You entered the flat just a little right after midnight and found Joe sitting on the sofa. The living room lights were turned off and the only thing illuminating the room was the television. He was watching an episode of Succession, and you knew then that he couldn’t sleep. Being flatmates with Joe for the last two years had made you learn the little things he did whenever something was bothering him. Smoking at the balcony at 1am because he couldn’t seem to figure out what he needed to do for the character he was playing. Sitting on the sofa and watching one of the episodes of the show he was currently watching meant he couldn’t sleep for some reason.
Joe let out a soft groan, throwing his head back on the sofa and rubbing his tired eyes.
“Couldn’t sleep.” He muttered.
You kicked off your shoes and walked towards him in the living room and flopped yourself down next to him on the sofa. You reached over to grab a handful of popcorn from the bowl that was sitting on his lap.
“Hey!” Joe grabbed your wrist. “Make your own.”
“Don’t be so selfish.” You teased him, pulling your wrist away from his grip before putting the handful of popcorn in your mouth.
Joe chuckled softly and shook his head as he grabbed a piece of popcorn and threw it at you.
“See, now you’re just wasting food.” You rolled your eyes before reaching over to grab more.
Joe threw his head back on the sofa and let out a sigh. You couldn’t help but chuckle softly as you focused your attention on the television. There was a comfortable silence between the both of you for a moment.
“How was your night?” Joe finally asked.
You shrugged, “It was okay.”
“I’m surprised you came home this early or that you came home at all.”
You side eyed him for a moment before shrugging again and stuffing your face with a handful of popcorn. He knew that you went out tonight with your friends, but you were also hoping that you would meet someone at the pub tonight.
“Men are assholes.” You murmured.
Joe couldn’t help but let out a laugh and moved himself a little closer to you and said, “Not all of them.”
You threw your head back on the sofa and turned your head to face him. His chocolate button eyes were sparkling as he gave you a playful smile. Joe was always like that. Even if you two had made an agreement that nothing would happen between the two of you, you still felt your heart beat out of your chest every time those eyes stared into yours. You both had one night of mistake—at least that was what you two had agreed on— and promised each other it wasn’t going to happen again.
It was the beginning of the year last year, and you both got too drunk during New Year’s Eve, and you both didn’t even remember much of what happened. Again, that was what you told yourself at least. You didn’t know if Joe was lying too, or he truly didn’t remember it. You, however, remembered that night crystal clear, but you didn’t want anything weird between the two of you, so you told him that you didn’t remember anything. Since that night, you two agreed that you both just got too drunk and got carried away since both of you were single.
That was all.
But that didn’t mean that you couldn’t stop thinking about it. That didn’t mean that you were okay with it because you had told yourself many times to move on from it because Joe didn’t feel the same. However, you always found yourself pushing other men that you would meet at the pub because they weren’t like him. They weren’t Joe.
God, you were pathetic.
You needed to let go of these unrequited feelings.
“Hmm…” You hummed softly, giving him a soft smile. “Oh, yeah? And is that one of them, you?”
Joe shrugged and just stared at you with a smile tugging on his lips. You let out a belly laugh as you stared at the ceiling. Letting your head rest on the sofa was making your head spin from the alcohol you had drank tonight, and you were sure Joe also had some considering the amount of beer bottles that were sitting on the coffee table.
“Wanna go for a smoke?” Joe got up from the sofa, reaching his hand towards you.
“Yeah, sure.” You took his hand in yours and followed him out the balcony.
Lighting the cigarette, you leaned against the metal railing and stared at the starry night sky. It was quiet, and the streets were empty. It was almost so peaceful and unreal.
“So, how come you haven’t met anyone that interested you?” Joe asked.
You didn’t know if you wanted him to press this subject because honestly at your state right now, you didn’t know if you could just stay cool and tell him some lame excuse as to why you weren’t so interested in anyone other than him.
After letting out a puff of smoke, you shrugged again. “Like I said, men are assholes.”
Joe laughed, shaking his head. “Even I don't believe that. It has been months. You’re telling me they’re all assholes?”
You tilted your head, brows furrowing. “Why do you care so much? Is this what happens when you can’t sleep? You just get into everyone’s business?”
A playful smile tugged on your lips and Joe took a step forward towards you. His eyes studied you for a moment, and it only made your knees weak. You didn’t know what he was doing, but it definitely was making your insides turn.
“I just care.” Joe murmured. “There’s no way a man would let you go that easily even if you refused them.”
“Well, they’re all assholes and cowards then.” You inhaled your cigarette one more time before finally putting it out.
You chuckled softly and stared at the night sky for a moment. You didn’t have to look for you to realize that Joe was just staring at you. You didn’t want to turn and face him. You were too scared. You may have drank tonight, and your head was spinning, but you knew you were close to stepping over the line.
“Well, what about you? Since you’re so interested in my personal life, how come you haven’t gone out there either? I’m sure all the girls are all over you since you’re so famous now.”
Joe laughed and said, “None interests me either.”
His answer sort of made your heart skip a beat. You were being way too vulnerable. At this point, you were telling yourself that you were being delusional for hoping that maybe Joe hasn’t dated anyone because maybe he felt the same. Walking back inside the flat, you grabbed yourself a bottle of beer, which probably wasn’t such a good idea and flopped yourself back on the sofa.
“Hm… I guess I’m not the only picky one here.” You teased him, taking a sip of your beer.
“Okay, so why are you so picky? What are you looking for in a guy?” Joe settled himself next to you on the sofa.
You glanced up at the ceiling as you thought about his question. However, there wasn’t anything that was popping up in your mind because you already knew the answer. But you had to make some kind of excuse, right?
“I don’t know. Someone that doesn’t bore me to death.” You laughed. “What about you?”
Joe shrugged. “Not sure, honestly. I haven’t thought about that.”
You raised your brow at him. You may be lying to him, but he definitely wasn’t a good liar when it came to his excuses.
“You’re such a liar!” You laughed, taking a piece of popcorn and throwing it at him.
“Me? You’re the one who couldn’t answer my question too.” Joe laughed.
You grabbed more popcorn as you flicked more towards him, making his jaw drop in shock. Laughters echoed in the living room as Joe tried to defend himself, but you were at this point just making a mess in the living room.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Joe laughed, trying to use the throw pillow as a shield.
He then grabbed you by the wrists gently as you stared into each other’s eyes. You felt your heart beating so fast that it was roaring in your ears. You stared at Joe’s chest that was also heaving as he moved closer to you. You felt the air between the two of you shift, and you knew that you were about to cross the line.
“Joe…” You whispered as he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face.
“Am I part of your asshole list?” He asked, and you immediately shook your head so fast that your mind was spinning for a moment.
“Never.” You replied, voice so low.
You could feel your hands tremble as your eyes stared at Joe’s lips. His fingers slowly grazed your cheek before letting his thumb traced the outline of your lips. It sparked something inside of you, and you couldn’t explain what it was. All you knew was that the alcohol was running through your veins, and Joe being this close to you was electrifying every bone of your body.
“Good.” Joe murmured. “Because you were right. I am a liar.”
You bit your bottom lip as you held in your smile.
“Oh?” You raised your brow at him, your eyes suddenly staring down at both of your hands. “How so?”
You played with his fingers that were on your lap. You couldn’t bear to look at him. You knew if you did, you wouldn’t know what to do.
“Because you’re the only one that I can’t stop thinking about.” Joe admitted.
The surprised look on your eyes immediately caught his. You had too much alcohol, but you knew you weren’t dreaming, right? Joe actually told you that.
“W…What?” Your voice stuttered.
Joe softly brushed his thumb on your cheek, his face inches from yours. You could feel his trembling breath as he grazed his nose against yours. Closing your eyes, you could feel the oxygen leave your lungs. Your heart couldn’t fit in your chest anymore, and you kept telling yourself that this was a dream. That you would wake up, and Joe wouldn’t be here anymore.
Was the alcohol getting in your head right now? How many drinks did you have tonight?
“Maybe I’m… I’m a liar too.” You whispered.
“I know.” Joe grinned before pressing his lips against yours.
A small gasp escaped your lips, and your body was paralyzed for a moment. You didn’t know what to do, but as soon as you felt his soft lips move with yours, you couldn’t help but slide your fingers through his hair and pull him close. It felt like a dream, but you knew it was real. Joe’s hands found your hips as he held on to them and pulled you on his lap. A soft hum escaped your lips as you hovered over Joe, tugging on his hair slightly.
“Joe…” You whispered, pulling away from the kiss breathlessly. “Are you sure about this?”
“A hundred percent.” Joe kissed you hungrily and desperately as he gently laid you on the sofa, his lips finding your neck.
Stars exploded at the back of your eyes as you felt Joe’s lips against your skin. Every kiss he left was making your skin on fire, and you never knew you wanted this so bad until now. Pulling away, Joe stared down at you for a moment and smiled. His fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead.
“Are you sure you won’t regret this like last time?” You asked.
“Darling, I never regretted it the first time.” Joe grinned before getting up from the sofa.
Taking you in his arms, you let out a squeal as he carried you down the hall and into his bedroom. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you kissed him again. Kicking the door closed behind him, Joe gently laid you down on his bed.
Staring into his chocolate button eyes, you knew you weren't going to regret it either because you never did in the first place. This time, you wouldn’t lie about how you felt too because this was everything.
All of this was everything.
The End.
*************
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Teach Me How To Love In Your Own Lyrics
(Part six)
Prev. Part one
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The drive didn’t feel to long. He had Eddie’s tape in and listened to the full thing twice. He didn’t even cry! He was kinda proud of himself.
He took out the tape and pulled onto the curb by their house and saw the girls running towards the car. They looked beyond thrilled. Robin jumped in the front seat and Vickie sat in the back.
They went to put he seatbelt on and Vickie started to speak in the process, “okay so I have the whole day planned out first we are going to go the local- woah. Steve you look…” she struggled to find the words so Robin assisted her;
“Hot. Wow Steve did you have a mid-life crisis?”
“You think I’m only living to be 52?”
“No. It’s just… weird. Eddie would probably be having an aneurysm right now.”
Steve blushed. Bad. He started the car to hide it, “No he would not.”
“Uh yes he would. Have you seen yourself?!?!” She yelled. “So anyways we thought we should go to the mall before we went to a bar to up your dreadful fashion sense,” rude, “but you CLEARLY have that covered now! By the way how? How did this happen… IS THAT MY LIPGLOSS??”
“No… it was mine from the Scoops days,” he winked at the girls.
“Oh. Ew. Makes sense but ew. Anyways. I guess we can get this party started early. Any bar in town I guess. You get to pick.”
“Oh aren’t you sweet,” he placed his hand over his heart and mock smiled. She just grinned in returned, “did you bring a tape?”
“You know me better than that. Of course I did. Anddd in honor of you,” she pulls out the tape and does a very professional reveal, “it’s ABBA!” He grinned as she put it in and they all immediately broke into song.
It makes the truth even more Incomprehensible.
‘Cause everything is new
And everything is you.
And I’ll I’ve learned
Had overturned.
What can I do?
Don’t go wasting you emotions,
Lay all your love on me.
And oh boy. That instantly reminded Steve of him. He misses him. He wished that maybe, just maybe, he liked him back. He knew how unhealthy this was. It was never going to happen he had to stop.
“Um how about this one?” He pointed at a bar.
“Uh yeah sorry, no.”
“Why? What’s wrong with that one?”
Robin sighed, “Steve. Oh Steve. My bestest friend in the whole wide world. That right there,” she pointed back at the bar, “is a gay bar.” Oh. Wait. Perfect. He will definitely take this as an opportunity to expose his deepest, darkest secret… that he himself has only known for about 4 hours.
“Okay… and?”
“What do you mean and? Why would you want to be in there?”
“… fork spotted in a kitchen?”
Robin practically chocked on air, “excuse me? Pull over,” uh oh. He found the nearest open spot and obliged. “Are you joking? Cause this isn’t funny.”
“Robin calm down… but Steve if you are joking please tell me because I will freak out if you are,” Vickie stage whispered.
“Robs… Vick… I would never joke about that,” Vickie squealed, an ear piercing squeal, “plus look at my outfit!” He and Vickie laughed. She looked so excited. She announced that she was going in the bar to buy celebratory shots and just to meet her in there. He thanked her and looked back over to Robin. She looked sad.
“Steve?”
“What’s wrong? Are you mad at me? I’m so sorry!”
“No! Don’t apologize, it’s just,” she sighed and he eyes started to water. Oh. What did he do. He’s a horrible friend, “why didn’t you tell me?”
“Robs, I’m sorry. I would have told you sooner but I just figured it out today,” he faked laughed.
“Really?”
“Yeah really,” he smiled and reached out for her hand which she took. (For someone who claims Eddie is his best friend, this was sure easier. But thankfully, he knew why now.)
“Now be honest with me,” he tilted his head, “was it Eddie? That made you realize. ” Woah. Well, that was quick.
“What?! No!” She raised he eyebrows. Why did she always have to be right? It’s honestly annoying. He sighed and mumbled, “yes.” She shrieked.
“I knew it! No one looks at their ‘best friend’,” she air quoted, “like that! Wait. Does mean I’m your official best friend again?”
“Don’t tell Eddie but, you were always my best friend,” he winked. She looked like a 5 year old who’d just been told their going to Disney Land.
“My lips are sealed,” she motioned zipping her lips and throwing the key, “okay we better go before Vick gets trashed without us.”
The bar was beautiful to say the least. The lights were colorful and bright, there were a lot of people dancing. He noticed most men were with men. Most women were with other women. People could be free here. It was amazing. “Steve! Robin! Come here!” Vickie called from the actual bar. “Okay be thankful, I waited for you guys,” there was a guy standing next to her and he was… cute? (He felt relieved he could think these things without it being weird now) “Oh! Steve meet Trent! He’s a bartender here!” He waved at the other man, “okay can we PLEASE get wasted now?! I haven’t drank in months.”
They downed the shots with ease (besides Robin who grimaced and yelled, “who would willingly drink this?!”). Vickie and Steve did three more rounds before ultimately giving up. Robin had to let the whole world know she was going to the bathroom and was back in less than a minute. No one questioned it because time didn’t really make sense at the moment.
Robin was now on her second dirty Shirley, which somehow made her ridiculously drunk. Robin was the clingiest drunk he had ever met and was now standing behind Vickie with her arms wrapped around her and face buried into his neck. They were so cute that it made Steve physically ill.
By the time they arrived Steve had been hit on (by guys!!) a total of 13 times. Steve politely declined all of their offers to dance. “Steveeeee,” Vickie called out, “what was the point of going to a gay bar if you’re not going to dance with the cute boyyys?!” Good question actually. He feels like he shouldn’t, for Eddie. But what does that even have to do anything. He DOES NOT like him back. (Right?)
“I just-“ he began to say but was cut off.
“Stevie is very much to interested in someone else at the moment,” Robin cheered. You could visibly see the gears turning in Vickie’s head. Steve sighed, knowing what was about to happen.
“Ooooohhhh. Is it E-“ she began but Robin quickly put a hand over her mouth.
“Shhhh,” Robin slurred, “don’t reveal his deep dark secret.” Vickie giggled and smiled at Steve. After a long and awkward moment of silence, Robin spoke up again, “oh em gee Vickkk this is our sooonnnggg.” It was some random pop song that (shockingly) Steve had never heard.
“Dance?”
“Please. I cant stand here another second with love deprived Steve,” she rolled her eyes and laughed. He flipped her off as they stumbled away.
“Ah young love,” Jesus. He honestly forgot he was here, “so what brings you here?” Oh goodie. Small talk was practically his least favorite thing in the world.
“I wanted to drink away my feelings,” now, even though he thinks this guy is cute, he just figured out he was gay barely 7 hours ago and was in no need for the pressure of a relationship. That is unless it was Eddie of course. So he was just hoping he would take the hint and leave him alone. If you couldn’t tell, Steve was almost always angry when he was drunk. Trent spoke barely a sentence and Steve already thought he was annoying. Drinking made him think about the ‘big questions’ and reminded him of the Upside Down. He did love the fuzzy feeling in his brain and that is precisely why he threw back one last shot.
“Oh. What happened?” Dude shut up. He’s clearly not in the mood.
“Well for one I just found out I was gay, the love of my life,” that felt good to say out loud, “is away for three months, and my brain said ‘hey remember all of your childhood trauma? No? Here let me show you!’” He went silent. Good.
“Yikes,” did he really just say yikes? Literally who says that? “Want another?” He says shaking the shot glass.
“No. I need to sober up. No way in hell they’re driving,” he says pointing at the dance floor.
“Okay, let me know if you need anything.” And he walked away! And all he had to do was trauma dump. He turns the stool to face the girls. He noticed many people. A girl who had the coolest hair he had ever seen. A younger boy, he looked happy like he finally found where he belonged. He saw a girl named Tiffany who was in his chemistry class. It honestly made a lot of sense she was here. She was with one of the cheerleaders a year above him. Small world it is. And his personal favorite: a guy who looked really… normal? Like Steve a couple years back when he was in what Robin called his ‘horrible polo phase’. He was with what Steve guessed was his boyfriend. He was wearing a black shirt with black pants. He had a buzz cut and (what Steve thought was awesome) bright pink nail polish. What was even better about this couple was revealed when he turned around. A corroded coffin shirt. Even smaller world. (It still shocks Steve to his core when he notices that people practically fangirl over Eddie.) For the next hour or so he just watches. Watches all of the people just be free and happy. Kind of stalker-ish.
“Steve! We gotta go. Little birdie feels sick,” Vickie said while holding Robin up next to her. He walked to the other side of robins so she could balance between the two of them.
“Awweee,” she attempted to whisper, “I love you guys! Question. Would you guys be like totally mad at me if I said when I went to the bathroom I smoked a complete strangers weed?”
“Robin! Why would you do that. You know your tolerance is absolutely horrible,” Vickie said when they were finally out of the building. They had parked two blocks away. Great.
“Okay so you’re mad! So no I didn’t do it!”
“I wondered how someone could get that wrecked after two Shirley’s,” Steve said more so to himself.
“Steve?”
“What Robs?”
“You know how much faster this would be if you gave me a piggy back ride?”
…
“Steve?”
“Fine.” Robin grins and lets go of the two of them. Robin walked backwards to get a running start (followed closely by Vickie because this was bound to go wrong). She made Steve squat and ran. Oh no. But with some miracle, nothing went wrong. And just like that she was on Steve’s back. Easy peasy. He only almost fell over 3 times from Robin hitting him in the head and/or kicking him.
Once they got to the car he placed he down and got in the drives seat. “Well that was interesting. Same time next week?”
“Definitely!” They both said perfectly in sync. “Minus the weed right Robin?”
“No promises,” she winked.
They went back to their house and, after Steve answered their phone and they all talked to whoever it was for 15 minutes, all immediately passed out. Robin on the floor, Steve on the couch, and somehow Vickie managed to get to the bed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Next
I am EXTREMELY sorry about how short this is. I got like 4 hours of sleep last night and rushed this today so I can go to sleep. It’s also probably crap because of the fact I’m tired. I honestly dc about it tho. I feel like the rest will probably still continue to be short so I am so sorry. Anyways. I thought including the whole Zendaya spotted at a gay bar! thing was funny. ABBA Steve truther. Now the boring stuff: if you want to be tagged in future parts comment or reblog! Make sure you have your tags on!
Tag list: @asbealthgn @queerbeansworld @bird-with-pencils @vecnuthy @artiststarme @captain-winter-wolf-aehs @piningapple @rowendyss @steve-themom-harrington @lfaewrites @azreadytodie @thequeenrainacorn @pastel-dreamscape @importanttimemachinenerd @jehneeg @swagaliciousmarie @mightbeasleep @krazyperson @milkshakeflower @fando-random @bumblebeecuttlefishes @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @fluffyreturns @scheodingers-muppet
#on todays episode of projecting myself onto Steve Harrington we have:#my ABBA obsession!#I love angry drunk Steve#mean girl Steve 🤝 mean girl Gareth#yk I’m tired when I don’t write a bajillion tags#I also had therapy until 9 so that didn’t help#night y’all#stranger things#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#gay#joe keery#joseph quinn#rockie#rockstar!eddie#teacher!steve#gay eddie munson#gay steve harrington#love birds#this man is a clingy bf even tho they aren’t even dating (yet)#I honestly don’t like Trent#I felt like he should be there tho#he’s kinda important later on maybe#idk#ronance#steveddie#steddie fic#steddie is life#S4JKs Lyrics
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Because We’re Only Kissing When We’re Drunk.
(Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader)
Based on this song:
Low-key In Love - The Struts
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Story: You and Joe had always been this ‘friends with benefits’ thing- and you never expected anything more from it, he was there for you and you were there for him- that was that. But one night, Joseph said something in the moment that freaked you out and caused you to run off- and he instantly regretted it.. or did he??..
‼️Warnings‼️: mentions of smut, use of y/n, drinking, slight angst, slight comfort at the end, etc. (if I missed anything please tell me!)
—————————————
You and Joseph had been friends for quite a while, well I guess you can consider each other 'friends'
If hanging at each other's houses late at night every week, getting completely shitfaced, then hooking up is considered being 'friends' then yeah- you guys are friends..
Really good friends.
To be honest- you guys are totally a 'friends with benefits' thing, but you just both hate that word so much- it makes things seem weirder than they already are.
It started off with one night, your now ex just dumped you- you wanted to distract yourself.
Who better to go to then the first man you called to hang out, Mr Joseph Quinn himself.
It started off as a regular hangout, you crying on his shoulder as he consoled you, you both had a few drinks- then things escalated there.
All that you could remember was waking up, naked in his bed- the shower was running because Joe was in there and you used that moment to escape as quickly as you could.
After that night, things changed.
Soon it became once every few months, to once a month, to a couple times a month-
Now you or him were at each other's houses, hooking up on the couch once a week if not a couple times more.
But neither of you were complaining- and neither of you had feelings for each other.
It was more of a way to escape everything, to just let all the stress of the week fall out.
Through drinks and steamy, naked make-out sessions.
But this time- things were different.
It was a late, Friday night- Joe had texted you telling you how much of a stressful week he's had with work and everything.
Being the good 'friend' you were- you obviously headed over to his place to help him get rid of the stress.
Then it happened.
You were both in his bedroom, he was leaning back against his headboard, you were on his lap- you two were basically just eating each other's faces up.
Nobody and nothing could stop you both at this moment.
the sounds of lips smacking with small hums and groans, the feeling of hot breath on both your lips mixed with the hands roaming- both of you were just locked in the whole steamy moment.
Then it just fell from his lips.
"Fuck darling- I love you so much."
He moaned it out against your lips as his hands were gripping onto your waist and your ass.
Your eyes just quickly shot open at the moment, causing you to freeze-
He didn't just say that did he?- but he did.
It took a moment to noticed you stopped kissing as his eyes slowly fluttered open, his soft brown doe eyes revealing themselves.
You watched as his eyes widened, realizing what he said.
You both never thought you had feelings for each other, at least you didn't think he had feelings for you- you always would agree that this was strictly friendship only.
But apparently Joseph didn't think that way- and you weren't gonna lie, neither did you- but you never said anything.
"Oh shit, I'm so sorry-" he said, only to get caught off by you.
"I should uh, I should probably get going-" you said, just pretty much in shock at what he said as you quickly climbed off his lap and got off the bed.
"Wait- y/n, darling-" he said, his smooth British accent running through your ears as he quickly stood up from the bed as well.
You just quickly shook your head, keeping your gaze down as you quickly grabbed your shoes and sped out the bedroom.
"I'll- I'll call you Joe.. okay?" You said, quickly grabbing your bag while he followed you, and you refused to meet his gaze.
"Wait let me explain please-" he said, but before anything else could happen- you had left, slamming the door behind you to get to your flat as quickly as possible…
As soon as you got to your flat, you started freaking out.
He loved you?!?! No- that's not possible, you guys are just friends- hell, you guys are just fuck buddies!
You weren't freaking out in a negative way- more like in a "holy shit" way.
You never really thought about having feelings for Joe-
of course there would be moments where you would look into his eyes, noticing how pretty they truly were.
Or how hot his messy curls looked in the morning after a wild night-
Or how that little slutty chain would dangle from his neck as he hovered over you.
Oh fuck it- he was hot as shit, and you liked him.
But it was just such a shock for him to actually like you back… but what if he didn't?-
Maybe it was just an 'in the moment' thing, maybe he was thinking of another girl-
Soon all these thoughts were cut off by a loud knock on your front door.
You jumped at the sound, instantly knowing who it was- and you didn't want to answer it.
"Y/n, love- are you home?.." Joseph's beautiful voice rang out through your wooden door.
You just stood in your living room, staring at the door as he continued to knock on it- obviously eager to talk to you.
Soon enough of just standing there, silently panicking to yourself, you just sucked up the courage to go answer the door.
A shaky breath escaped your lips as you headed over to the door, your hand resting on the doorknob before you turned it open.
Your eyes were instantly met with his worried brown doe eyes-
He looked anxious, nervous, like he felt like he fucked up big time- which he did feel.
Your eyes moved down to look at his outfit- he was wearing some pretty good looking flared jeans, a nice button down shirt and his brown leather jacket over it, his hands resting in his pocket as he stood there nervously.
"Can I?.." he said, looking down at you, instantly making eye contact with you.
It was an obvious habit of his with people, making eye contact whenever he talked- just so people knew he was listening to them.
You just quickly broke it, bringing your gaze down to the ground as you gave a small nod, avoiding his gaze once again while he walked into the small flat you owned.
As soon as you noticed his shoes walk onto your wood floors, you slowly closed the front door behind him, continuing to keep your eyes down.
"I- uh, I think we need to talk.." he muttered, his voice soft and smooth as you noticed his feet turn towards you- meaning he was facing you.
"There's nothing to talk about Joe.." you mumbled, your voice quiet as you were too nervous to say anything- afraid that this might be it, the end to everything..
Soon you felt two bulky, firm fingers grip onto your chin, lifting your face up to meet his eyes- which you did.
He had a soft look in his eyes, causing them to sparkle as they looked down into yours- god he was perfect.
You two just stood for a while, admiring each other while feeling your lips slowly move more and more closer together.
"You’re right.. maybe there isn't any words to say.." you heard him whisper, his voice was so soft as it ran through your ears.
You could feel his breath on your lips as his face basically hovered over yours, causing a small chill to run down your spine.
Finally- his lips were pressed against yours, and you leaned into the soft but passionate kiss.
Both your eyes fluttered shut as you stood there, his hand holding your face firmly.
After standing there, slowly but passionately kissing him, you slowly pulled away- your eyes opening to meet his which were so close to yours.
"I love you too Joe.."
#joe quinn#joseph quinn#localemofreak#joseph quinn fanfiction#Joseph Quinn fanfic#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn x fem!reader smut#joseph quinn x fem!reader#joseph quinn x y/n#joseph quinn imagine#Joseph Quinn imagines#Joseph Quinn oneshot#Joseph Quinn blurb#Joseph Quinn fluff#joseph quinn angst#joseph quinn smut#Joseph Quinn comfort
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Infatuation Rewritten - Chapter 1
Joe Goldberg x Reader (ft. Love Quinn)
Previous | Masterlist | Next
Summary: Love's longtime friend moves back to LA. Fortunately, Joe (Will) never had too much trouble adapting (Season 2).
Warnings: Alcohol consumption (we're all adults here), Joe actually loses his mind a little at the end.
Now for something nobody expected! The long-awaited rewrite for Infatuation... I have 40 pages of this, by the way. I'd like for *some* of them to see the light of day... and so I've told myself: If I wait for it to be perfect, It'll never be posted.
I hope you all enjoy, and feel free to share your thoughts!
xoxo Ona
My eyes roamed the list of names by the front door of the apartment complex. There were about four total, so finding yours was the easiest part. The hardest step came in the form of mustering up the courage to press the buzzer. But, was it really a trouble with courage? The more I thought, as my finger hovered over the button, the more I began to consider it to be uncertainty.
I pause and reach my other hand into my pocket. My fingers slide across the screen of your phone, and I remind myself why I'm here. Simply put, I’m here to give you your phone back. I found it on the passenger’s seat of my car and almost thought to tell Love… Instantly, a part of me knew she would’ve pried it from my grip to give to you herself – and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity for us to speak again, this time unmonitored by her perceptive gaze and sharp ears… and without the alcohol in your system.
Last night, you clung to Love as she touched you tenderly, playing the role of your dutiful sober saviour. She hosted a dinner and she invited her friends. One of them was you.
“A good friend,” She had called you. The last she’d spoken to you was ten years ago, and I guess I hadn’t realized good friends stay out of reach for a decade at a time. It didn’t matter how much time had split you two apart, though, because Love embraced you with a warm smile and open arms. There wasn’t any malice, no judgement either. She was just happy to have you back in her life. When you got too drunk to take public transportation, Love tried to coax you into staying the night. You wouldn’t budge, even with a slipping tongue, fluttering eyes, and a head too heavy to stay upright. So she compromised: you let her coddle you, sober you up just enough, and I drove you home. It wasn’t even that late, Love just couldn't stop pouring you wine after wine after wine. You seemed like you needed it, though. Tense as you were. Pent up little thing.
“What’s your relationship like with Love?” I asked, feeling rather bold with your inebriated self. The image of her hand resting on your thigh flashed in my mind. I laughed. “She hadn’t mentioned you until you’d moved back to LA. She practically can't shut up about you now.”
You shifted in your seat like a child. No position in my car seemed comfortable for you, and you had made it more than obvious.
“She’s a good friend.” You responded and looked out the window like it meant something. Love had said the same thing — I believed you both — but I felt as though you were withholding something else from the conversation. The annoying bell on your purse jingles as you tuck it closer to your side.
“You two seem close. Should I be concerned?” I then asked teasingly, laughing to fill the awkward tension of a silent car ride. I wanted to spark something in you, but you brushed it off as you curled your arms around your waist.
“I think I had too much to drink…” I glanced at you, and I was suddenly nervous. Your coat was askew, hanging off your shoulders. I knew you were drunk, but your direct announcement sounded to me as a warning.
“Tell me if you need to throw up, okay?” You slowly nodded before slotting your forehead against the cool car window. We remained like that until you got home, choosing to stumble your way for a block to feel a semblance of privacy – but I watched you walk up those steps. I knew your building, and you were still too fucked up to realize.
I pull your phone out of my pocket and look it over one more time. My thumb runs over the plastic case before turning it around and looking at myself in the black reflection.
Your phone is dead. Has been since I found it. None of my chargers fit into the port, unsurprisingly. It’s one of those phones where the keyboard slides out, for Pete's sake. Your phone is more than a few generations old. A brick. I chewed my fingers raw trying anything I could to get it started again – I wanted to pry, really. I’ll be honest with you here, I really wanted this glimpse into your personal affairs.
I wondered, exasperatedly, about what you were hiding behind this screen. Clutching it tighter into my palm, I lift my free hand and press the buzzer.
A few long moments after the sound, I hear a click.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Y/N. It’s Will –” I begin to say, ready to explain myself in the same manner I had rehearsed at home, eating breakfast, in the car, and on my way up the steps. However, you cut me off immediately.
“Do you have my phone?”
My heart skips a beat and I’m momentarily stunned. I blink a few times before speaking.
“Yeah, actually.” I replied. “I found it on the passenger seat this morning, I guess I didn't see it when I got home last night.”
“I’m going to buzz you in.” Perfect.
After hearing the buzzer, the door clicked. I made my way inside. The stairs were wooden and creaky, the walls showing obvious water damage, and the lights hummed obnoxiously. Obviously, none of this was of your doing. Your landlord just didn’t care.
Your door’s paint was chipping off, revealing the cracked wooden layer underneath, but the rusted numbers on your door somehow looked worse. I knocked.
I heard the shuffling of your feet from behind the door before it opened. When your head peeked out, you gave me a smile and extended your hand.
I momentarily look at it, thinking… Right. I drop your phone into your awaiting palm. I almost thought you wanted me to reach out as well. That would’ve been too good, right?
“May I use your bathroom?” I ask.
Your mouth opens momentarily, as you look away and off to the side. There’s nothing there, you’re simply thinking it through and disappearing into your head again.
“Sure.” You then reply, reluctantly scooting back and giving me my first glimpse into your apartment.
If only you knew how ecstatic I was to slip through the crack of your front door. My heart thumps excitedly, as I waste no time looking around. By the door sits a coat hanger with a few pairs of shoes around its feet.
“Should I take off my boots?” I ask.
“Yeah, actually. I’d appreciate it.”
I untie the laces and slip them off my feet. Then, just as I drop them by the coat hanger, you beckon me to follow.
Your apartment is a fair size, with one large space making up both the kitchen and the living room. Right of the front door, a short hallway leads us to a room. As you continue past the door, I slow myself and look to my left. Your hallway has a little louvred closet, and I can’t help but reach out and open it. There’s nothing exciting inside, only white bed sheets.
“The bathroom is over here.” I suddenly hear you say from within the bedroom. I close the closet and hurry along, hesitantly making my way into your room.
I examine the layout of your furniture: your bed is made, your dresser tucked away in the corner, your desk by the window, and your small bookcase right by its side. I take another look toward your window: It overlooks the front of the building, I think. I want to look around more, but I’ve already entered an uncomfortable silence through this simple observation… you’re bound to find it weird. Hell, you’re already finding it weird – my being here – if your reluctance to me using your bathroom is anything to go by.
“Thanks.” I tell you, nodding in your direction and scooting by to enter the bathroom. I peer over my shoulder, however, and take another peek into your bedroom before shutting the door.
In the bathroom, I made my way to the toilet and listened to your shuffling from the other side of the door. I lifted the seat without paying much attention, and stilled when I heard you leave the bedroom entirely. I didn’t really need to go to the bathroom, but I wasn’t lying when I said I needed to use it.
I waited a moment, lowered the toilet seat again, and didn’t bother flushing or washing my hands. The sound could set you off that I was finished, and I definitely wasn’t finished. I needed the opportunity to snoop just a tad bit more. I unlocked and creaked the bathroom door open, observing the quiet room with more attention than I had before.
Stepping out of the bathroom, I leave the door open. My head snaps in the direction of your bedroom door and I pleasantly find it shut from the rest of your apartment. You’re making this too easy. I make my way around quietly, being careful with my steps as I approach your nightstand with a familiar object glinting in the natural sunlight of the room: your phone, on its charger. When I press the button on its side, the logo appears as it powers on.
I take the time needed for the phone to boot up as an excuse to look about your room. The bookcase, which I had only glanced at before, takes shape infront of me. My hand drifts along the spines of the books… and I feel unsatisfied. You have a small selection of kitschy modern romance novels. My judging eyes shift to your dresser, the framed pictures sitting on top catching my attention. I don't recognize anyone, but a weird feeling washes over me. You’re not in any of these pictures. I feel a… disconnection… from the room. My eyes move elsewhere and I catch sight of a few unopened cardboard boxes against the wall near the bedroom door. They’re folded. Unused. I wonder briefly as I look back down to your phone. It’s open.
Unlocking it was easy, no password. You know, the good thing about an older cellphone model is how easy it is to just… get in. I flip your phone over and pop the back right off. I slide the chip out of my pocket and right into place. Once everything is back in its place, I unlock your phone and fully install the hardware. As much as I would like to start snooping about your phone now, I close it and set it back down on your nightstand. I make my way back into the bathroom, pulling my phone out all the while. I open the freshly installed app and bite at my lip as I see the device sync up. Done.
I flush the toilet, wash my hands, and make my way out of the bedroom. When I step back into your living room kitchen, you’re seated at the short island, your back to the small living room.
“Thanks for letting me use your bathroom,” I say, making my way back to the front door. You swivel the chair as I walk by and watch me duck for my boots.
“Thanks for bringing me my phone. I was almost going to head out to Anavrin–”
“Oh, I don’t work Saturdays. You would’ve missed me entirely.” I say all matter-of-factly, like an asshole. You shrink.
“Noted.”
As I loop the laces around, I look up at you. Your brows knit together and you avert your eyes from me. I watch you for another moment, smiling to myself. You’re nervous.
“What’re all the boxes for?” I ask, looking around the apartment. They’re a little sprawled out everywhere, but most of them are still folded up. I chew my cheek as I wonder – are you packing up to leave already? You just got here not even a week ago. Is that what’s gotten you so nervous? Cause I caught you? I bite my tongue and choose to rephrase my thoughts. “Still unpacking?”
“No, It’s… complicated.” You respond.
I nod my head and stand. Your eyes fleet to me for a second before drawing away. Is it me, Y/N? Am I making you nervous?
“Thank you again, for my phone.” You mumble, drifting off somewhere. I smile wide, and huff. You’re not a threat. A pest, likely. But not a threat.
“Yeah, no problem.”
I’m out the door not a moment later, spinning my keys while on the way to my car.
—
Back at my apartment, I notice the door’s unlocked.
I'm cautious as I walk through the threshold, peering ahead only to notice Love behind the counter.
“Love, I didn’t expect you to break into my apartment.” I tease, taking off my boots and shedding my jacket.
“I thought you’d be home,” she whines. “Besides, it’s not breaking in when you’ve got a key.”
I make my way into the kitchen, to her side, and slip my hands around her waist. She turns her head to look at me, a big smile on her face.
“Where were you?” She mumbles, still looking down at the counter.
“I went over to Y/N’s apartment,” I began, rolling the hem of her shirt between my fingers. “She forgot her phone in my car last night.” I kiss her shoulder.
“Mmh,” Love hums. “That was nice of you.”
I look over her shoulder, noticing the restaurant brochures infront of her.
“What were you doing here?”
“Looking for something to order. I don’t really want to cook again tonight.”
I lift my hands off her hips, placing them on either side of the counter. I press forward, and slide one of the menus into view.
“This one seems good.” I whisper, inconsiderate of what I’m pointing to. I’ve got one thing on my mind right now, and it isn’t the brochures.
Catching onto my carelessness, Love turns around and faces me. She tilts her head and observes my face for a moment before sliding her arms around my neck.
“How did it go?” Love suddenly inquires about us again.
“It went well,” I tell her, keeping it short. Still, she pries.
“Tell me more,”
“Well, she showed me to her bathroom,” I look around, as though I was recalling the few minutes I stood in your apartment. I’ll keep the snooping to myself. “Aaand, that’s about it.”
Love thins her lip. She’s pensive for a moment. She thinks, and I watch her grapple with her thoughts as she looks about the kitchen. She clears her throat before speaking.
“Will,” She starts, her hand taps my chest and I watch it circle around. “I wouldn’t be asking you this if it wasn’t important, but… can you do me a huge favour?”
My hands find Love’s face, cupping her cheeks, and pressing her forehead to mine. My eyes search hers, and I pout.
“Anything for you,” I tell her. Anything.
“Forty has this thing tomorrow… I didn’t think ahead, and my plans are jumbled. But, this is really important.”
For a second, my stomach drops. I try not to let the horror show on my face as I’m convinced she’s about to glue me to Forty’s side for a day. But she continues.
“Y/N needs help clearing the apartment,” My eyes narrow, and I nod as I continue to listen. “You see… Will. It isn’t really my place to say this, but I thought you should know her mom passed away a few months ago. She’s been trying to sort through the estate, and they finally gave her the green light to clear out her old apartment. I can’t be there to help.”
Love’s hands slide over mine, cupping my fingers as I cup her cheeks.
“Are you free sometime tomorrow? Would you be able to help her out?”
With this revelation, the framed pictures sitting on the dresser make sense.
“I mean… yeah. I can do that.”
Love lights up at my response, hopping up for an intimate kiss. My hands fall to her ass, but she pulls away too soon. Always too soon.
“Thank you, Will,” She grins, tapping my chest again. “I’ll let her know.”
As Love pulls out her phone, I watch her tap away at the screen.
“You know, that entire complex looks unlivable. The place might have a rodent problem, too.” I say as she hits send.
“I know! I told her she could stay with me,” Love leans her head against my chest with a frustrated huff, slipping her phone onto the counter.
“You both already spend so many afternoons together,” I begin, sliding her head up to look at me. My fingers brush her cheek, and my next words come out hushed. “If she was around any more, I’d never have you to myself.”
Her eyes flutter as my hands brush baby hairs out of her face. I hum, and lean in for another kiss.
“Will,” she starts, pressing her palm into my chest. She pushes me back, and I let her. “I’m not in the mood right now. Is that alright?”
I purse my lips… a little agitated, but I understand. I’m in the mood, but I understand. She doesn’t want to have sex, she wants to talk about you.
“Of course, Love,” I kiss her cheek. “Some other time.”
With a smile, she returns her attention to those stupid brochures. I agree to whatever she wants, whatever she’s in the mood for. I always do.
Once dinner’s sorted, we pair it with a movie on my tv. We cuddle, and it’s nice. During an intimate scene, a quiet one with rustling bedsheets, Love decides to speak.
“I’m glad you’re getting along well with Y/N.” She says with a hum, rubbing her face into my chest. I grunt when her hand squeezes my knee. “She appreciates it too, I know it. She doesn’t know many people in the city anymore.”
I tear my eyes away from the sex on tv to look Love in the eyes.
“Are you doing anything tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I have that thing with Forty. Someone seems a little forgetful tonight” I laugh and apologize, scolding myself. Of course… Tomorrow. I did forget. She turns her attention back to the movie. When I reluctantly return my own attention to the screen, I can’t help but scrutinise everything I see. Love seems pleased, watching the protagonist and her girlfriend lounge after what felt like the most drawn-out fucking I’d ever witnessed on tv. She’s probably thinking to herself: what a nice couple, happy, in love, and all tuckered out. But I feel differently. I see something I’m missing. We could be them, Love and I. But, instead of being wrapped in each other with more to do than to SAY, I think about the brick phone, I think about the lunch dates, I think about the selfishness of only reaching out when things became convenient, and I think about YOU. I think about the rust on your door, think about your dead mom, I think about how Love wants me to help you pack her things – like I’m some tool to be borrowed and Love’s the kind neighbour willing to lend – and I think about how Love touches you and I can’t help but wish I could crawl into your skin and rip you up from the inside.
The bell on your bag rings in my ears, jingling as you tap it over, and over again. Should I feel threatened by you? Because I do, even when everything about you proves to me you’re no threat at all. You’re meek, small, pathetic. Despite it all, you’ve stepped into my yard, trampled the very bushes I’ve trimmed and watered to perfection, and made yourself cozy against the love of my life. And, like a call to battle, the bell stirs something in me.
But you’re innocent, I cry in my head. You’re not Peach. You’re no evil mastermind, and stepping into someone else’s yard doesn’t mean much when you’re a helpless rabbit. Your mom is dead, you’re grieving. I think about you, in my car, curled in on yourself, skin exposed. Scared. I grit my teeth at the thought.
When Love departs, just after the movie ends, I spend some time catching up on your messages. That’s all I can really do, actually. With such an old model, your system doesn’t allow access to anything, anywhere, anytime. Just the text messages. I scroll to find your mention of me dropping by earlier.
‘Left my phone in Will’s car. He dropped it off.’
‘He’s the best <3’ Love responded.
About twenty minutes after that, Love let you know I’m replacing her tomorrow.
‘We can reschedule.’ You tried, but Love tells you the plans are already made. You can’t run from this. Neither can I.
I recline on my couch, huffing as I read as far as your messages go. I couldn’t get the older logs but anything you send from here on out, I have access to. When the late hours of the night finally catch up to me, I look out my window at the flickering street lights, and I head to bed.
#joe goldberg x reader#joe goldberg#love quinn#love quinn x reader#yandere#x reader#yandere x reader#yandere joe goldberg#Joe Goldberg x Love Quinn
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.·:*¨༺ a little death. ♱ chad meeks-martin ༻¨*:·.
SUMMARY: in which you have a pretty intense night terror alternatively, in which you, a friend of the core four, is stuck at a slumber party, where Chad comforts you after having a nightmare
SHIP: afab!reader x chad meeks-martin
WARNINGS: explicit content (minors stay out), unprotected p n v, praise kink, sub!reader, soft dom!chad, choking/gagging, reader jealous as fuck towards Tara, ethan/chad rivalry?? for your attention, "i kIsS tHe sCaRs On hEr SkIn!1!1!!1! XD" type shit, chad is coochie drunk (and a heavy dirty talker), random storytelling/porn with a plot. fluff if you squint.
TW FOR: mentions of murder, character death, grief, recovery/healing, ptsd related topics, body image.
WORD COUNT: 6.1K
SONG: a little death by the neighbourhood.
A/N: hello hotties!! i told myself "this is going to be a short one it's pretty to-the-point" but then i forgot who the fuck i was and realized i don't know chill and wrote 6K words of this. typical me behavior. this is for my shawties you love some emotional intimacy <3 chad is the actual loml, i'm shocked i'm writing for him now when i should've done this more last year lol REBLOGS, NOTES, AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED !!
.·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.
you woke up to your scream.
It was Halloween weekend, and the news had just broke about the two murdered college students, and their film professor. You, a Woodsboro native knew exactly what this meant. You weren't just any Woodsboro native; you were directly involved with the recent Ghostface massacre of 2022. You had lived in Woodsboro for only a short fraction of your life, yet what happened there impacted everything you do now.
You had moved from the south; Georgia-Florida-Alabama-ish. You met your current friends in your eighth grade year; coincidentally, the year one of your friends, Tara, had an issue where her sister ran from home. you enjoyed your little life there until it was viciously torn from you by your best friend and her psycho-groomer boyfriend-who you always had a bad feeling about. you were dating Wes at the time of his death, and after he went, so did all of your patience for the slasher genre. fuck the box office, fuck the critics, fuck the movie.
when things had finally settled down, you and your newfound family decided to make the ambitious move to new york. you were stuck being undeclared though as you slowly figured out what you want to get out of your experience at Blackmore. which all leads to now; October 30th, and the boogeyman you only saw in your dreams or in old photos of amber, was now prowling Manhattan for the survivors and fresh meat; ridiculous and fucked, that's what that is. your new friends; Ethan, Quinn, and Anika barely knew the drill. but you did. you've played this game before, unaware you were playing; now your focus could not be shaken.
Sam had suggested a fucked-up slumber party of sorts; "if we all stay together then he won't attack." "or we could be feeding him an all-you-can-eat buffet." Mindy croaks after Sam. Regardless, you knew that it was probably for the best everyone stayed together, especially the new ones. you had your suspicions about Ethan, who seemed to have taken a liking to you. the average sweet nerdy boy who's a bit corny, it all seemed a little too familiar. he would still try to get you to talk to him, stare you down, you could've sworn he stole something out of one of your drawers some time ago while looking for the restroom. you would never admit this out loud, because everyone is always so fucking uptight, but you never really cared about how he objectified you. you liked the attention.
but he gave off joe goldberg energy, and you were more of a steve harrington girl.
it beats having to look at your long-term crush, Chad, who was falling for Tara. you always felt like the silver lining of both of your partners dying would be that he would finally look at you; but just like Wes when she first got attacked, Chad's eyes were on Tara. fucking Tara. nothing wrong with her, she was your friend. maybe you just needed to stop crushing on and dating boys who would all rather fuck Tara Carpenter than give you the light of day. but then again, you don't even think you're ready for romance to reappear in your life. last year you were manipulated, stalked, and stabbed; Tinder sex would be a nightmare. so there goes that pipe dream.
you were sleeping in Tara's room with Quinn, Mindy, and Anika, while Chad and Ethan slept in the living room and Sam slept in Quinn's room; which was closer to everyone. It took everyone until midnight to get ready for bed, then Tara's music was too loud, and then Mindy and Anika started getting frisky which caused Tara to yell out "ARE YOU GUYS FUCKING?!" which led to Quinn screaming and laughing, which caused Ethan and Chad to rush in like knights ready to save the damsels, who were just making out. so Anika and Mindy were banished (by Chad) to Sam's room. you made a mental note to remind Sam to wash her sheets.
you knew, despite the horrible situation that was starting to arise, that right now felt like any other night with your friends, and that it might be the last time things will ever be this way. so what had you screaming the way you are now? if not, a horrific night terror you had about how everything went down last year: the look in Richie's eyes piercing you through the mask as he violently stabs you, leaving gashes as you screamed out for the one person who can't even rescue you; Wes. this happened three hours after the last person went to sleep, making it 3 am.
the thing with you that the others don't understand is that you had frequent nightmares about what happened. it's nearly a nightly occurrence and every night it's something different; Mindy's under the mask, Amber, Tara, Chad, Ethan, Sam, Anika, the Bodega guy, the guy who played Billy in Stab one, fucking Gale Weathers. It keeps you up half the night, flashing your phone flashlight in the corner of your dorm and waking your dormmate. you used to sleep with a hunting knife; stuffing it under your pillow and holding it under there. you also have several cans of bear mace; you were Wes's girlfriend after all. you inherited all of his self-defense tools.
the only one who understands is Sam. You can't believe the situation that's been happening between her and Tara; you would've killed to have an older sister who cares about you like Sam. Of course, your ID starts talking and tells you that Tara is just ungrateful to have a supportive family and Chad's attention and not want it. It fills you with envy. Sam gets it. Sam gets you. Sam tells you to try tea or get a medical marijuana card like she did, or try Zoloft like Mindy is doing. Mindy sarcastically suggests substance abuse.
you scream, having it rip through the still silence that filled the apartment. with a flip of a light switch, the big overhead light shines over the scene of you; hyperventilating and pacing around as Tara rubs her eyes. The boys, with Mindy, rush into the room on queue as Quinn stands up from the bed. "hey! hey y/n!" she tries to get your attention, anything to break you free from the sobbing mess you were starting to become. Tara decides to do the worst possible thing and start shaking you, she seems almost confused and pissed off as to why you woke her up. "y/n! look at me-" Tara tries to get your attention. "hey! Tara, that's not helping-" "-y/n, girl, what's wrong?" Quinn talked over Ethan.
then, finally, Sam chimes in and pushes past everyone; shooting Tara a worried look as she slowly wraps her arms around you. you slowly sink in Sam's arms and sob as she softly pats your back. "another one?" she asked, and you nod, unable to speak as you take a harsh gasp and slowly breath out, trying not to sob more than you already have. you hated being so emotional in front of your friends, you hated being emotional in general.
"wait so there was no one in here?" Ethan chirps.
Sam shakes her head. "no." she huffs out. "no no, just a night terror...I had one like this the other night. she'll be okay-" "-like hell she is, Samantha! I mean, look at her! she's shaking like a chihuahua!" Mindy blurts out. "I'm gonna make you tea, y/n," she announced as she went to the kitchen. Sam sighs, you could almost feel another brick weigh Sam down with the way she carried herself, then Tara spoke up. "Sorry I shook you, I...I panicked," she admits, which you knew was the truth.
you sigh softly, your face beet red, blinking away the last of your tears. "it's f-fine-" "-it's really not, I mean, do you shake someone when they're having a seizure?" Tara lightly jokes, earning a small laugh as you sniffle.
Sam speaks up. "I think one of us should stay here with y/n, at least until she falls back asleep. I would but I am very tired."
"I don't mind-" "-i'll do it," Chad and Ethan said in unison, which ended with Ethan's side-eyeing Chad. then Chad spoke up again. "I can bore her with one of my old football stories, plus i've known her for years." if only you could read Ethan's mind, even when the look on his face said it all. Sam looks down at you, getting your nod of approval before glancing back at Chad. "yeah, that sounds good."
Chad, who had come in charging with a chunky remote controller, just passed it to Ethan as he went back into the living room to grab his pillow. Sam rubbed her eye. "the girls can move to my room-" "-yikes." Mindy jingles as she came in with a mug. "I might've been sleeping there, with Anika, if you know what I-" Sam's face falls flat. "-you better be fucking joking, Mindy." she deadpans
"It's not like you're using that new mattress at its full capacity."
"okay gross." Chad gags, clutching his pillow and throwing it on the mattress. by then, Tara and Quinn already moved into Sam's room, probably collapsing at the door and sleeping on the floor as Mindy handed you the warm tea. She gives you a look that makes your stomach flip, it was almost sympathetic. almost like Mindy herself knows how it feels to be woken up like that. Mindy retreats to the room before Sam can say anything else. she sighs. "now I have an excuse to go to Target, and burn those sheets." she turns to you. "you sure you're gonna be fine here, with Chad?" she asks, Ethan, peering right behind her.
"Yeah, thanks, Sam," you tell her as she walks out, leaving just you, Chad, and Ethan. Ethan just purses his lips and gives you a weak smile before shutting the door and the lights off. you sit back down on the bed, grab the mug of tea, and sipped it sweetly, feeling the hot liquid run down your throat as Chad turns on the lamp. The room was cold, dimly lit with autumn new york air hitting your skin from the window next to you, the one Quinn cracked open.
Chad groans softly as he flops on the messy bed. he's surprised anyone is even getting a wink of sleep tonight, especially you, with how stiff and cold you got the moment everyone left. he stares at you for a second, unable to say anything before blurting out. "...do you wanna watch a movie on my phone? it can be a funny one." he offers. "I have We Are The Millers downloaded." but you just retract even more. why? why can you just shut off whatever's stopping you from opening up? maybe it was the stark realization you never really trusted anyone, ever.
you stayed silent, unsure of what to do; he wouldn't have offered if he didn't care a little. plus, it was only until you fell asleep. he was not going to stay with you the entire night. you turn to him, biting the inside of your cheek as you sip more of the tea. "no thanks, i've already seen it." you say. he isn't like Ethan; Ethan would just start leading the conversation with questions like 'Oh so what's a movie you haven't seen?' and whatever movie you think of off the top of your head will be the one that'll play. Chad just kind of stops after that; less of a nuisance but you were sure he wasn't at his full power since he hasn't really slept. because Chad can be annoying.
"you know you hit the floor, right?"
you furrow your eyebrows. "what?"
"you fell off your bed, that's what woke you up. it was very loud, and woke me up," he says as he scoots over to you, sitting right next to you. "I'm a light sleeper now, it's a recent development. it's not all that fun...Tara said you were murmuring in your sleep too before you hit the ground." your face burns with embarrassment. "...how often does that happen?" he curiously asked.
"What is to you?"
"just looking out for you. y'know, since the masked killer that tried killing us last year is trying to kill us again." his voice dripped with sarcasm. you scoff. of course. "...it happens a lot, maybe one of two times a week? it used to be every night."
"I guess that explains your caffeine addiction."
you chuckle weakly. "thanks doctor dudebro."
"I'm just saying, I wish you would've told one of us you were having nightmares..." he voices. "you know, Mindy used to have really bad nightmares. She would call me almost every night around the same time, just screaming and hyperventilating. it feels pretty real at the moment. then you wake up and it's not real." he mumbles towards the end. looking down a bit. you study the expression on his face, you knew Chad was more than some meathead jock, he gave you butterflies, and he seemed to be the healthiest among the survivors. he looks at you. "I'm on like 75 milligrams of Zoloft at all times so...I know what it's like, I've had my fair share of Richie-Amber adjacent nightmares," he confesses.
your stomach churns from what comes out of his mouth. "is that why you agreed to stay here? to talk me into talking about what happened and get medicated-" you jumped. Chad shakes his head. "no no, I'm not here to tell you what to do, or how to heal, It's just...hard seeing you this way." you know exactly what he means, so you dropped the stubborn act. "I know none of us are really dealing with it, but now it's happening again...and I don't want to get hurt again. I don't..." he processes what he's about to say before expressing it; "...I don't want any of us to get hurt again."
"...do you think about her?" you blurt out. "liv, I mean."
Chad freezes. you almost start to feel bad about bringing her up before he responds with. "most days." he croaks out softly. "sometimes I think if I would've just done what she wanted and went upstairs with her, things would be different." he fiddles with his fingers. "but then again, probably in the worst way, right? I don't know what I would've done if...if it was Mindy. or you." he flashes you a frail smile. "I think about her every time I hear a Paramore song, or when I see orange is the new black on Netflix or pink box dye. I hate the smell of that sugar cookie body mist that Quinn uses, it's the same one Liv had. She wanted to study 'abnormal psychology', she would've loved it up here...what about you? Do you think about Wes?"
"every night." your voice slightly breaks. "his Spotify account is still up, all the music he neatly organized into playlists for us is still on there, just collecting dust," you mumble, then, you feel pressure slowly lift off your chest as you continued to talk about him. "I deleted Spotify, though. can't be on there without seeing something he made for me or seeing his face, and Instagram too. His dad gave me a box of his things at the funeral and I brought it with me here, I can't look at it for very long without crying," you confess. "...can I be honest?"
"This is probably the most honest you'll ever get me, so shoot."
You let out a sigh, feeling your heart drop to your stomach as you stared into his eyes. "things in my life were already starting to go downhill before everything, and now...it never will feel the same, you know? I will never get over this, i'll just have to learn how to live with it when it's already happening again." Chad watches you, seeing your eyes sorrowly hang as the words spilled from you. he hates seeing you like this. you used to be so full of life, animated, and passionate; now you were just a shell. he softly bumps his shoulder next to you and gives you a reassuring smile. "...you're not alone." his voice softly spoke. "it feels lonely, but you're not alone."
you finish the tea, setting it on the nightstand before Chad speaks up again. "what makes you say that, though?" he perks up. "that things were starting to go downhill?" he asks, maybe genuinely curious. you bite the inside of your cheek. "I had this feeling that Wes was in love with Tara. I thought I was just going crazy but after Ghostface attacked her, and I saw the way he looked at her, I knew I couldn't keep denying it anymore. I just wanted him to look at me the way he looked at her, everyone looks at her like that, but now he can't because Amber wanted to cosplay Stu Macher." you spat, your condescending tone dripping in anger. "...i've just been filled with jealousy ever since, mostly towards Tara, sometimes at Quinn...the whole situation made me feel...ugly."
Chad scoffs a little, and you immediately get defensive, but the better half of you knows Chad is not going to judge you. "you? jealous of Tara?! Tara Carpenter? The same Tara in this apartment?!" he seems almost appalled. "y/n...Tara Carpenter is a mess." he exposes. "Tara shows up to class drunk. Tara got her driver's license suspended. Tara's mom dropped her after her dad and Sam left already. Tara almost died three times!! Wes was crazy for you, he loved you-it annoyed the shit out of me really but he did. Tara might be pretty but she isn't you...I know what you're trying to say, but the last person you should be jealous of is Tara." Chad rambles. silence falls on the both of you for a second as you process what he told you; he's right. Tara has some horrible luck, you needed to stop comparing yourself to her.
"...if it makes you feel better, I get jealous of Ethan."
well, that was a shock. "huh?!"
Chad chuckles softly. "yeah, I do, I get jealous of Ethan sometimes." you can notice him getting a bit flustered. "he-he's just lucky, you know? he didn't experience what we did, so he can walk alone at night and go to bars without feeling like he's being watched...he isn't active, which annoys me so much." he raises his hands in defense. "I know I know, it's not my life, but when he does tag along and goes to the gym with me, he can work out a lot longer than I can. he can wear whatever he wants. he can take his shirt off and no one will stare at him or ask questions. he doesn't have chronic pain. he can go and date whoever he wants and not feel bad about his body, or feel bad that he's cheating on his dead girlfriend...little shit like that makes me jealous," he admits, pressing his tongue against his cheek. "my injuries from last year were so severe that I can't even play my favorite sport anymore, and Ethan just gets to sit around and play World of Warcraft with his perfect nervous system." his words stung.
you couldn't think of anything to say, because he was right; it's not fair, none of this is fucking fair. suddenly, you can't help but slide your hand over to his, squeezing it softly. Chad studies you for a second, his brown eyes scanning how beautiful your features looked in the dark, you couldn't help but notice how clammy his hands were starting to get, he opens his mouth to say something, then he stops himself before saying something else; "...can I show you?" he asks.
you glance over at him, seeing how close to you he already was. you could feel your cheeks heating up as your eyebrows slightly raised from his request. you were shocked that he trusted you. "you...wanna show me? you won't even show Mindy-" "-Mindy can never take anything seriously, y/n. She's gonna call me Tony the Tiger if I show her." that made you chuckle, considering one of the scars that you had also looked like animal print; or you romanticized it to the point where it reminded you of a zebra stripe. so you nod. "yeah...yeah you can show me."
Chad, noticeably nervous, sighs before lifting his shirt slightly, revealing not one, not two, or three, but four or more deep scars that dented his already chiseled chest. your face flushes, blood traveling to your cheeks as you examine his body, how his skin was still healing, how deep the valley of his abs truly was. your throat goes dry, almost like you can't process the amount of pain Chad might be going through or what he went through when he got those scars. It's almost like he sees you contemplating on what to say; if there was anything you can say to make him feel better. your lips slowly part as you lean in closer.
"you can touch it." Chad chimes.
you look up at him for approval, even though he told you that you could. shakily, your hand slowly grazes down his chest, your fingers running down the canyons of his chest, reminding yourself that this was the case for you too, both physically and mentally scarred. you could feel Chad's breath hitch softly, and you stop. "did I hurt you or-?" "-no, no you didn't hurt me..." he says softly, his pupils growing in size as he watches you feel him. you know the room was not well-lit but you knew he could see you blushing. before you know it, Chad's hands slowly creep over to your hips, pulling you closer in the most unsubtle way. "may I?" he asks.
you were flustered, and all the blood that ran to your cheeks ran down to your core, feeling your heartbeat slowly revive itself down there as Chad's big hands rested themselves on your lower back. you squeezed your thighs together; you've wanted this for so long, you wanted Chad's attention since sophomore year, so you nod your head. Chad smiles softly at you before lifting your shirt slightly and exposing the scar on your stomach. you blushed from the tension and the embarrassment. you could feel Chad's hot breath on your neck as his fingers slowly graze your curves, just softly skimming past the waistband of your pajamas as he looks into your eyes. "...did I mention that I get jealous of the way Ethan looks at you?... Same reason I was so annoyed with Wes-"
the desperation of having Chad's hands on you drives you over the edge as you crash your lips into Chad's, feeling how chapped they were as you relax into the kiss. you did this for your inner teenager, who's probably doing summersaults because you're finally kissing Chad Meeks-Martin. before you knew it, Chad eagerly kisses you back, one of his hands squeezing your waist as the kiss grew more and more passionate. you weren't expecting this, but thinking back at it now, you should've seen this coming. you pull away from the kiss, realizing that your hands involuntarily wrapped themselves around his neck, and your faces were just a few inches apart. "well shit..." Chad mumbles as you notice his cheeks turning a dark shade of red.
he then grabs your chin delicately and kisses you softly, making sure you were present as his hands drop to your hips. the last person you were with like this was Wes, and you knew Chad was in the same boat with Liv. you pull away, seeing his lips chase after yours as you placed his hand on his chest. "Chad...should we be doing this?" he stares into you, his bottom lip caught in his teeth as he gnaws on it, unsure of what to say. "I would like to..." he said softly, pulling you closer. "We should make some new memories..." he huskily whispers before attaching his lips to your neck. your breath hitches as you grab onto him, and once he does that, you realized you wanted nothing more than to fuck Chad. "w-we should." you respond.
Chad manhandles you, again, pushing you back up against the mattress, grabbing your neck and jaw as he leaves open-mouthed kisses, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as a soft gasp leaves you. he hovers on top of you, his breath getting heavier with each kiss before pulling away from your neck entirely. the look he gives you is full of passion. "besides, can't watch you squeeze your thighs like that and expect me not to want you..." he mumbles softly. your heart feels like it's on crack at this point, your stomach cramming with anxiety and lust as you kissed him roughly.
his lips felt so right on yours like they were always supposed to be there. he quickly gets in between your legs and reattaches his lips to your collarbone, his hands sliding down to your hips as you press them up against his growing bulge. a small moan escaped passed his lips as you grab his face and bring him back to your neck. every touch fills you with passion, your moans getting increasingly louder before Chad completely pulls away. "shhh." he chuckles softly, grabbing your jaw and making you look at him, squeezing your cheeks a little. "our friends are right outside, don't wanna wake them, right angel?" god he's so fucking fine. "no matter how cute you sound."
Chad delicately pulled your shirt off, revealing your tits, since you pulled your bra off before climbing into bed. his eyes could not peel away from them, as hard as he tried to focus on anything else. he gently flicked his tongue around the bud off your left tit, then slowly slides his tongue down your stomach, over your scar, and down to your abdomen. your face soured up from how different it felt having Chad kiss and suck and lick down your stomach. he leans up and kisses you. "your body is so beautiful, you know that?" he mumbles softly against your ear, and you respond by nodding, because deep down you always knew, just never affirmed.
Chad's hands slowly found themselves sliding off your silk pajama shorts, which might've been driving him crazy all night. he slowly reveals your panties, basic cotton white boyshorts with a wet stain conveniently down the middle. he pulls you to the edge of the bed, standing up as he gets a better look. he smirks at the sight of it, you could see his mouth nearly watering as his left hand softly grazes your clothed core. his class ring hitting your sensitive nub as your hips gently jerk to the sensation of it. then, his hand softly slaps it, a soft, wet squelch coming out of you as your body jolts again. you whine as he starts to speak; "fuck...poor angel, must be very desperate, huh?" he taunts.
you can barely think of what to say, already so desperate to feel him that you just lazily nodded your head. he grabs your face. "cmon, use your words." he says gently. it makes you feel so weak in the knees as his free hand softly caresses your cunt. "when was the last time you came, angel? you're so sensitive..." he uses his thumb to rub your throbbing clit in circles, still waiting for you to answer. "l-long ago..." and you weren't lying. it's hard to focus on yourself and your needs when you're constantly in survival mode, and it's harder to make yourself cum when the last person who did got brutally murdered. Chad gets it, considering how flaccid his anti-depressants made him. seeing you in this position, though, finally gives him the hard-on he's been waiting for. "let's fix that."
He slowly slips two fingers into you, watching your back arch as he quickly covers your mouth, his hand taking up half of his face as he thrusts them slowly in you. he sees your body slowly adjusting to his fingers as your muffled moans pushed pass the cracks of his knuckles. his class ring hits your clit with a certain rhythm, making you twitch as you hold onto his wrist. "fuck" you mumble in Chad's hand as he starts to recklessly pound his fingers into you. his actions were so rough but his words were so sweet, causing your brain to almost malfunction; "taking my fingers so fucking well." he pants softly.
your faint moans turned into muffled screams when Chad stuffs a third finger in there, curling them and thrusting them deeper and deeper into your aching hole. his hand clamping harder around your mouth as your screams got louder and higher. he looked so determined to push you over the edge, it's almost like he wants you to cum all over his fingers.
your eyes flutter as his thumb grazes over your clit. fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. you wish you had the entire apartment to yourself so you can scream and moan and do Chad on the dining table. for now, you're settling with him shutting you up with his knuckles deep in your hole. you can't help but feel your walls tighten around his fingers. he drags his fingers out and glances up at you, seeing how flustered and aroused you were as he slowly pulled off your panties, shushing you gently and moving his hand away from your mouth. "open wide angel." he hums before stuffing them in there.
you could taste how tart you were, saliva staining the panties as he slowly slides his finger down your folds, using his free hand to whip his cock out. You faintly groaned out in frustration. you haven't felt this good in so long, your skin hot to the touch as your fingernails dug themselves into his shoulder blades. your eyes pleading as they found themselves staring at his cock; you knew Chad was pretty big, Liv might've ranted a little bit about how she was 'sore' from the first time she did it with him. you weren't expecting him to be so thick either. you could see his cock tremble, his tip already soaked in precum as it glistens in the dim lighting, the lamp hitting it just right as he smirks at you. "come on, angel, show me how bad you need it." he coos softly, brushing your hair behind your ear.
you rest yourself on your elbows, staring down at that Alaskan bull worm Chad calls a penis as you imagine yourself getting nearly split in half by him. how badly your hole was begging for any kind of contact as Chad's muscular arm wraps itself around your thigh. you could see his hand slowly pump his cock as he waited for your answer, maybe you propped up the way you were could get the job done for him. you whine and try to squeeze your thighs again before he forces them open, prying them apart like a Venus flytrap as he slowly inserts himself. His tip slowly sinking into you "o..oh-f-fuck..." he groans softly, his voice getting even huskier as he pulls down on your hips. "your cunt sucks me up so well, angel...you're s-so tight." he mutters.
he slowly starts lunging his hips against yours, sweat gleaming from his forehead as he admires your reaction to every thrust, seeing your eyebrows furrow, your mouth falls open, your eyes fluttering, all of it just drives Chad insane. "such a pretty girl..." he nearly growls as he throws one of your legs over his shoulder; it's almost like he wanted to pace himself so he wouldn't get lost in the pleasure she was giving him; but it seemed nearly impossible as his pace increases.
your muffled moans got louder and louder, causing Chad's strong hand to wrap around your neck and squeeze it softly, your moans becoming inaudible as he starts to brutally fuck you into the mattress. you thought this whole exchange would trigger something primal in you, freak you out too much that you end up running out of the room, but it was quite the opposite. Chad leans down. "your pretty moans are gonna wake t-them up, angel." he warns her again, his tone was so sweet though, it made you melt. "how do you t-think everyone's gonna f-feel when they see you getting fucked out-mhm-like the doll you are-?" he groaned out softly, his teeth grazing your ear and tugging on it.
pleasure began to overwhelm you, your moans and whimpers turning into gasps and yelps as Chad clapped the hand he choked you with over your mouth, again. "f-fuck baby...you w-wanna be my angel, don't you?" he mumbles softly as your body started to jolt with pleasure, you could feel the panties hit the back of your throat, the essence of your juices left stuck on your tongue as your nails scratched up Chad's back. he then answers his own question. "I know you do, sweet girl...fuck, you hear how good you're taking me?" he praises.
your own pleasure starts to build up as your back arches, and you can't help but cry out from how good it made you feel, it almost made you regret waiting so long before making a move on Chad, or anyone else really. Chad's dirty ramblings keep you on edge: "My cock fits so perfectly inside of you a-angel...wanna be buried in you like t-this all the time-mhmfuck-" his whispers start to turn into strained statements, the sound of skin slapping echoing inside the room, if anyone else was awake in the apartment, they probably would have already noticed the intense fucking happening in that room.
the tip of his cock starts punching your g-spot like a boxer and his punching bag, you can't contain your muffled moans getting any louder; which causes Chad to cover your mouth for a third and final time. you could feel his cock seize inside of you as Chad's own groans start filling up the room. you were almost worried that Sam or Ethan were going to charge in here and see Chad balls deep inside of you. the pleasure starts to overwhelm you as your thighs shake uncontrollably, your hot breath wafting back into your face as Chad groans out quietly. "y-you need my cum, baby? mhm? that'll g-get you sleeping-" he manages to get out before feeling your juices gush out of you; realizing you had cum all over his cock, your body jerking in response as your eyes fluttered close.
involuntarily, Chad's cock squirms before you felt the thick ropes of his cum spill inside of you. you watched as his tense body finally relaxes into your touch, his heavy breaths and soft groans hitting your neck. seeing him slowly pull out and realizing he forgot to grab a condom from his wallet or check if Tara had some, oh well, it's not like he's gonna get murdered on the way to the pharmacy and back. he notices how limp you've become as he moves his hand away and pulls the panties out of your mouth. you can't help but notice how charming his smile was. he was glad he can catch you at this moment, all worn out and lazy but perfectly content, and finally dozing off to sleep. Chad gives you a lazy, soft kiss before you finally fell asleep.
the next morning, Chad and Mindy had run out to get breakfast; you were the last one to wake up, which Quinn noted as a good thing: "It means you finally caught up to your sleep schedule." which couldn't be further from the truth. you couldn't help but think about just a few hours prior, how good it all felt, how he basically fucked all the nervous energy out of you; feeling zen before the wave of reality hits you. The news was on, still talking about the new local Ghostface killings. you weren't sure if the slumber party kept you safer from the attacks or put you right in the middle of them, all you knew was that you had Chad as a bodyguard now. and when Chad finally comes back with several bags of Dunkin' breakfast sandwiches, he gave the only sprinkled donut he ordered to you.
.·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.
buy me a coffee ૮⸝⸝> ̫ >⸝ ა
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