#and hugh is there... i guess... /s
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She's so cute are you kidding me :'D
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I know you're young, but you're also wearing a letter now. Do you reach out to Brock (about the trade deadline)? Do you talk about it, or?
We talked about it. But... not a lot, to be honest.
— PREGAME | HUGHES VS. WILD (03.02.23)
#quinn hughes#vancouver canucks#gif#You lose guys / You gain guys / They've earned to add a guy like thattt......#trade deadline szn = illusory nature of self-directed roster accruement and professional autonomy analysis#the parallel ambiguity of 4043's roles on this team does kill me because of how disparate their contract situations are right now#and like their presumed motivations i guess. but is it even... i don't know.#the way they framed this question to him after scalping out soundbites on the nux infrastructural implosion is so brutal lol#but there's still diplomacy there there's still love there there's still an older brother's instinct to accommodate there. lmfao#even if it isn't exactly reflective of the (assumptive) reality of the situation because who can really say at this point#i could write an entire essay. but i won't!
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[ oh captain, my captain ] q. hughes
day 2 of kinktober (captain kink w/ quinn hughes)
➾ paring : Quinn Hughes x fem!reader
➾ summary : Quinn’s girlfriend calls him "Cap" after hearing the nickname come from his teammates, and Quinn reacts totally normally
➾ warning(s) : smut !! captain kink, light dom!quinn, nicknames during sex, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), very slight hair pulling (blink and you'll miss it)
➾ author’s note : i am Not gonna lie … this has been living in a word doc unfilnished for months so i thought that this would be the perfect time to finish it and let it out to see the light of day. enjoy :)))
kinktober schedule
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When her boyfriend asked her a few weeks ago to accompany him to an event that the Canucks were holding, she was not looking forward to it at all. It's a very private event that the Canucks hold at the start of every season for new Canucks to get to know their new teammates and for returning Canucks to catch up. She's managed to be busy on this day for the past two years of their relationship so she didn't have to go, but she can't dodge the event any longer. Especially now that Quinn is captain.
The dress she bought for this event is stunning and she couldn't wait to wear it to the event. It's a sparkly navy blue number that hugs her curves. The thin straps hold up a plunging v-neckline that shows off her cleavage in a way that Quinn loves. There's a high slit in the skirt that goes about halfway up her thigh.
She feels like she could've dressed a little more modestly when she walks into the ballroom and finds that a lot of the women dressed in more high cut and full length gowns. She crosses her arms over her chest in an attempt to cover her exposed cleavage.
A couple of Quinn's teammates greet their captain as soon as the two of them walk into the large room decorated in blue, green, and white. She hears the nickname "Cap" thrown around as a few of the veteran Canucks greet him. That's a new nickname that catches her attention immediately.
The significant others of the teammates that greet Quinn greet her. She does her best to hold a conversation with the group of women but her eyes continue to shift toward her boyfriend in his suit. He has on one of his game day suits from last season that doesn't really fit him anymore so it hugs his arms and thighs nicely.
"Your dress is beautiful, by the way," Lexie Demko compliments. She turns her attention to Thatcher's wife. "I mean it. It's stunning. I guess it's to be expected for the captain's girlfriend to sparkle." The group of women laugh and she forces a smile.
Sometimes she questions if she should be the one leading this group of women because she's only 23 and still kind of young. It's one thing for Quinn to lead the Canucks because he's a natural leader and knew he was probably going captain this team one day. He's had a lifetime of experience because he's the oldest of three brothers.
She was kind of thrust into the role of lead WAG with his captaincy appointment last season. Her version of being a leader means being the one that plans the parties and plans the playoff attire. Making sure all the other wives and girlfriends are okay, making sure they catch their flights to make it to whatever city they're following their boyfriend or husband to so she can watch him play. It's no NHL team, but it takes up a lot of her time. Especially party and playoff jacket planning.
Quinn looks over at her and her brain immediately goes blank. He's still surrounded by his teammates, but he's looking at her like that. It should be illegal to look like that.
She excuses herself from the group of wives and girlfriends to approach her boyfriend. She tries not to feel tiny among a group of hockey players, but she is.
"Cap," she teases with a smile. "I'm kinda hungry so can we go grab something to eat?" Quinn's cheeks turn bright red at the use of his new nickname. His teammates snicker around him at his reaction.
All he can do is nod in response to her and grab her hand. He guides her away without a single word, but his cheeks remain tomato red.
She's rendered him speechless. All by calling him "Cap." Maybe she'll have to start doing that more often if this is how he reacts.
They grab a plate of food and head to their table. No one else is sitting at the table but she knows that it's her, Quinn, JT, JT's wife, Brock, Thatcher, and Lexie at the table. Their tablemates are still mingling amongst the players and coaches in the room while they sit and eat.
Quinn leans over to her and says softly in her ear, "I'm going to need you to not call me 'Cap' again while we're here."
"Oh," she breathes out. "So your teammates can call you Cap, but I can't?"
He presses his lips in a line and meets her eyes. "It doesn't sound sexy coming out of their mouths like it does yours," he mumbles. "So, please don't call me Cap or Captain while we're here or you'll find yourself on your knees in the bathroom helping me with my little problem."
A small smirk forms on her lips as she takes a bite of pasta. "It's not a 'little' problem, Quinn," she tells him. "It's a pretty big problem."
Quinn groans and rubs his hands over his face. "You're killing me," he groans. "Oh my God."
She giggles and takes another bite of pasta like the conversation isn't ruining the panties she has on under the dress. Quinn follows suit and begins to eat his plate of food.
Their tablemates join them a few minutes later with their own plates. She converses with Lexie and Natalie Miller while their husbands talk with Quinn and Brock. She laughs with them, but the entire time, she thinks about the little conversation she and Quinn had about calling him Cap or Captain.
She's absolutely trying it when they get home to see what kind of reaction she gets out of him when he isn't surrounded by his friends.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
They leave the event once Quinn gives a little speech to hype up his teammates. Tocchet also gives a speech once Quinn was done, but he needed to stay until he was done talking. He orders an Uber back to their Vancouver apartment before Tocchet is even done his speech so they can leave as soon as he's done.
The Canucks applaud their head coach for his speech and they make a break for the door before anyone can stop them. Quinn has her hand in his as they make their way outside. Their Uber is waiting for them when they exit the building.
Quinn slides in first and she follows him. One of her hands rests on his knee and she leans over to say, "You looked good while you were giving your little speech." She pauses for a beat. "Captain Quinn."
His head snaps in her direction. "What did I tell you-"
"Just wanted to see something," she giggles as she glances down at the growing bulge in his already tight pants. "And I see what I wanted to see." Her voice drops a couple of octaves so only he can hear. "Do you like when I call you Captain, Quinn?"
He gnaws on his bottom lip. "You're playing a very dangerous game right now," he warns her. "I'm not trying to ruin these pants."
She leans into him and says against his ear, "Then maybe you shouldn't like to be called 'captain' by your girlfriend." Her lips touch the swell of his ear as she talks. Quinn shivers under her lips before she pulls back to meet his eyes. She finds his usually bright eyes dark with lust.
She's not sure she's going to make it into the apartment if she keeps playing this game with him.
"You are ..." Quinn trails off with a smile and a shake of his head. She grins while he tries to find the words to say. "Something else." His fingers trace the slit in her dress, leaving goosebumps behind where he touches her skin.
The Uber comes to a stop two minutes later. She doesn't risk saying another word until they're in the building. The elevator is probably not the best place to say anything either.
Still, it doesn't stop her from poking the bear though.
"Captain Quinn Hughes," she pretends to think out loud. "Even after a year, it still roles off the tongue. Don't you think, Cap?"
"Oh my fucking God," Quinn groans as he turns to face his girlfriend.
Before she can react, Quinn cups her cheeks and pulls her into a hot kiss. He steps so her back is pressed against the wall of the elevator. She grips his jacket as he presses his chest completely against hers. Quinn shoves a thigh between her legs, moving the dress to the side so his thigh presses against her already damp core.
This is a side of Quinn she's pretty sure she hasn't seen in their two and a half years together. He's very particular about his touches and his movements. Slightly rougher with them as well. She might like this side of Quinn.
The elevator dings once it arrives at their floor. Quinn pulls back and grabs her hand as the doors slide open. "Let's go, pretty girl," he says to her, voice soft. "You need to help me with my not-so-little problem before it ruins these pants."
She giggles as Quinn leads her out of the elevator and down the hall to their apartment. It's a moment before Quinn gets the door open but once he does, he pulls her inside and pins her against the door to shut it.
Quinn holds her chin between his thumb and pointer finger. "I hope this dress didn't cost a lot," he says. "Because it might end up torn and on the floor tonight.”
“Quinn Hughes, you better not rip this dress because if you do, you’re buying me a new one,” she warns him. “I mean it too. You better not.”
He grins and hooks his fingers around the spaghetti straps that sits on her shoulders. “I guess I’ll be nice,” he sighs as he pulls the strap off her shoulders. Quinn's eyes fall to the fabric that he pulls down to expose her breasts.
There's about one second between when the fabric pools around her waist and when Quinn crashes his lips to hers in a heated kiss. Their lips mold against each other and his hands cup her breasts. She groans into the kiss and he takes full advantage to explore her mouth with his tongue.
She pulls his suit jacket off his body and it falls to the floor with a light thud. She pushes him toward their bedroom without breaking the kiss.
In the very short trip from their front door to their bedroom, she loses her heels and dress in the hallway while Quinn's tie ends up on the living room floor and his button up gets unbuttoned and untucked as they enter their bedroom. She jumps and wraps her legs around his waist. He kicks the door shut and walks toward their bed.
"What do you want me to do, Cap?" she questions between kisses.
"You know, every time one of my teammates calls me Cap, I'm going to think of you and it's going to end in endless teasing for me," Quinn points out as he sits on the mattress. He pulls back to look at her. "If my teammates mess with me because I get hard after one of them refers to me as Cap, it won't end well for you since it'll be your fault."
She feigns being hurt. "Ouch, Quinn," she says. "I guess I'll never call you Cap ever again."
"I didn't say that," Quinn very quickly replies. "Just letting you know what will happen."
“I’m so scared,” she teases.
“Shut up and get on your knees, pretty girl.”
His stern voice when he says that shoots straight down to her core. She bites her bottom lip as she slides off of Quinn’s lap and to her knees on the carpeted floor below her.
Her fingers work at unbuttoning his dress pants. She pulls them down along with his boxers. His hard dick stands up against his stomach when it’s free from the confines of his underwear. She takes him in her hand and looks up at him. She gnaws on her lip before she says, “Whatever you say, Cap.”
Quinn groans at the same time she wraps her lips around the fiery red tip. She tastes some precome that has leaked as she takes more of his dick in her mouth. His fingers curl in her wavy locks as she hollows her cheeks and sucks. She looks up at him as he throws his head back in pleasure.
"Fuck," Quinn breathes out. The reaction she gets out of him causes her to speed up her actions. Her hands are splayed over his thighs so she has something to hold on to. Not to mention that she just loves his thighs.
She manages to take all of him in her mouth without choking, and Quinn loves every second of it. He gnaws on his bottom lip and soft sounds rise from his throat. It's music to her ears as she takers him completely in her mouth and hums around him.
Quinn can't seem to get enough.
When her knees start screaming at her from being on the carpet for too long, she ignores it. What Quinn wants, Quinn gets. She's done this so many times that the pain doesn't get to her like it used to, but sometimes it .
She hollows out her cheeks and Quinn hums before he pulls her off his dick by her hair. She hums and looks up at her. His thumbs brush her probably swollen lips and she kisses the pads of his thumbs.
"Was that okay?" she questions like she always does after she sucks him off. Quinn raises his eyebrows at her and she grins. "Cap."
He nods and leans down to kiss her. His kiss is softer this time as he helps her back up so she's straddling his thighs. She runs her fingers through his styled hair and Quinn falls so he's lying on his back. His dick pokes her thigh and she wiggles her hips to tease him.
"These need to come off, pretty girl," he mumbles against her lips at the same time he taps the waistband of her panties. "I'm sure they're ruined at this point anyway."
She stands up to push the ruined fabric off her body. Quinn moves back so his head rests on the pillows. She presses her lips together in a line as she crawls back onto the mattress. She straddles his waist and leans over to press a long, deep kiss to his lips. Quinn hums and cups her jaw with his hands so she can't go anywhere.
Without breaking the kiss, she lifts her hips and rests the tip of his dick at her entrance. He slips right in because of how wet she is. A grin forms on her lips as she says, "Wanna ride you, Cap. Please."
"You don't need my permission, pretty girl," Quinn replies between hot kisses.
She hums as she lowers herself onto him. The familiar and welcomed stretch greets her. Quinn's hands land on her waist so she doesn't lose her balance. He bottoms out in her and she allows herself a few seconds to adjust before moving her hips.
The room is quickly filled with her soft moans as she rolls her hips. He helps her keep a steady pace that works for both of them. The kiss breaks but she doesn't go very far. Her forehead rests on his and her lips ghost his every time she moves.
Despite how they got here, she loves when she falls into bed with her boyfriend. No matter the reason, Quinn always focuses on both their pleasure. He makes sure that both of them feel good for however long they go.
Adding a little spice in the bedroom, like this captain thing that Quinn has going on right now, is one of her favorite things too. She's never against trying new things. She's not against this captain thing that he has going on.
Quinn starts moving his hips to match her pace. She groans and pushes herself up so she's sitting on his waist. She keeps her pace though. Her head is thrown back in pleasure and Quinn's hands roam her body.
"Fuck, baby," he breathes out. "You look so good riding my dick, pretty girl."
He moves one of his hands until he's rubbing her clit. She cries out his name and rests her hands on his torso. "Quinn," she gasps. "Oh my God." He stops. "Cap. Captain. Captain Quinn. Don't stop. Please." Those words pass her lips before her brain processes what she wants to say, but her end goal remained the same. Quinn continues rubbing her clit and she hums.
Her movements get frantic and inconsistent as she gets closer to her orgasm. Quinn wraps his arms around her waist and rolls them over so her head is on the pillow. He throws her legs over his shoulders and begins moving his hips.
The new angle has her legs shaking because his dick hits her favorite spot. She grabs his arms and cries out his name. "Oh my- fuck," she gasps. "Quinn, Quinn Quinn. Oh my God." He doesn't stop this time, but he slows down. "Cap, I'm so close. Please."
"Come for me, pretty girl," Quinn pants. "Want you to make a mess on my dick."
It's not very long after that when she comes. Her entire body clenches and she cries out Quinn's name so loud that their neighbors absolutely heard her. Her vision whitens and she's in cloud 9 from how hard she comes.
She's so out of it that she doesn't realize that Quinn pulls out and comes on her thighs. She has no idea that he cleans her up, only that he touches her sensitive core with a wet cloth. Her body melts into the mattress as she recovers.
When she comes to, Quinn is crawling back into bed. She musters up enough strength to turn her head and look at him.
"You okay?" he asks with a smile on his swollen lips. "Lost you for a moment."
She nods and rolls so she's curled up next to Quinn. "You really like when I call you Cap," she teases him. His cheeks turn red. "It's fine, Quinn. You don't need to get all flustered about it. If it's your thing, then it's my thing too. I wouldn't mind doing that again. It showed me a whole new side of you that I think I like."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm."
"Then we might have to do that again," Quinn tells her. "But please. For the love of everything, do not call me Cap or Captain around the team. It's going to take me a second to get over tonight, or get used to those words leaving your mouth."
She giggles and throws her leg over his waist so she's laying on his chest. "You say the word and I'll start using your nickname," she tells him. "Cap."
Quinn rolls his eyes, but she knows he loves it.
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he's hooked (oneshot)
hugh jackman x actress!reader
summary: y/n is an actress in her early 20’s. after having the best night of her career, Hugh Jackman introduces himself. the two stars hook up in the venue's bathroom and for y/n it was nothing but a one night stand. However, Hugh becomes obsessed and can’t let her go so easily.
warnings: use of y/n, she/her pronouns, age gap (22/55), smut, protected vaginal penetration, dirty talk, reader is kinda cocky, hugh is very persistent, reader mentions age gap a lot, oral (f receiving), one use of daddy (in a playful way), bathroom sex.
authors note: y'all I am trying my absolute best to write smut. this is my second attempt and while i'm not super proud of it, I am proud of myself for trying. practice makes perfect I guess lol. anyways, I hope you enjoy. (sorry if it sucks butt) love y'all <33
Tonight felt like a dream. It was the 97th Academy Awards and you had won your first Oscar for best actress. When your name was called, you were completely shocked. The category was filled with nominees that you had looked up to your entire life and you genuinely thought you had no shot of winning. You were completely honored to win such an award so early into your career. After the ceremony was over, most of the attendees made their way over to the Oscars Governors Ball, which was one of the few after parties that are held annually after the event. It felt surreal to be in a place full of Hollywood's biggest names and it was even crazier that you were now one of them. You were currently sitting at the bar waiting for a drink when a deep accented voice spoke. “Congratulations on your big win tonight. You deserve it.” When you look over to see who was speaking, you’re met with a very handsome Hugh Jackman. “Oh thank you. Congrats to you too, best actor.” Your tone is teasing yet sincere. “I’m Hugh.” He offers his hand to shake, which you take. “I know who you are, Mr.Jackman. I’m y/n.” You shake his hand firmly, letting it go right after. “I know who you are, Ms. y/l/n.” He joked back and you let out a small laugh. You look forward as the bartender sits your drink in front of you and you give him a quick thank you. From the corner of your eye, you can see Hugh’s eyes trail your body. “Did you just check me out?” You turn your head to face him. “It’s hard not to when you look that good.” Hugh says without missing a beat. “Aren’t you married? I don’t think your wife would appreciate you hitting on a twenty two year old.” You give him an accusing look. He lifts his left hand, showing off his bare ring finger. “I'm divorced, babe.” You almost miss the smirk that rests on his bearded face.
“Hm. Well in that case, there are plenty of beautiful women here your own age here that would happily go home with you tonight. Maybe you should flirt with them.” You turn back to your drink, taking a long sip through the skinny straw. “None of them are as pretty as you. You’re the most gorgeous woman here by far.” You let out a laugh of disbelief. “Bye Hugh Jackman. It was nice meeting you.” You slowly climb down the tall ball stool and grab your drink. Before you can walk off, Hugh calls your name, causing you to turn back towards him. “I’d love to take you out to dinner sometime.” He smiles and you’d be lying if you said the sight didn’t make your heartbeat stutter. “You know that Real Steel was my favorite movie when I was like eleven. Does that make my age more apparent to you or do you not care?” He furrows his brows, pretending to think for a moment. “Hm. I don’t think I care very much.” You laugh, dropping your head. “You’re unbelievable.” He smiles. “So is that a yes?” “No.” You smile and walk away.
—
Your friend Kayleigh was ranting to you about a technical issue that happened during her performance earlier in the night and you were trying your best to pay attention. Sometime in between the chat you had with Hugh and now, he had removed the black suit jacket he had on. The sleeves of his white button up dress shirt were rolled up, showing off his large forearms, his biceps peaking out slightly. It was overly distracting. “Girl what the fuck are you staring at?” She moves her head around trying to match your staring gaze. “Y/n please don’t tell me you're staring at that old man right now.” You give her a sheepish look. “God, straight people are so fucking weird.” She sighs. “It’s not weird. He’s kinda hot.” You admit. “Whatever you say. Why don’t you just go talk to him? I’m almost positive he’d fuck you if you ask.” You look back over to where Hugh is talking to some older woman, just like you had suggested. “I kinda already turned him down. Well, not for sex. He asked me to dinner.” Her face scrunches up. “Ew. He’s like older than your parents.” You laugh. “Is it bad that I find that hot?” She nods. “Yes y/n. That’s like really fucking weird dude.” You ignore her. “Should I go try to get him to fuck me?” You ask, genuinely wanting her opinion. “If that’s really what you’re into these days, go for it. I’m highly disgusted by you right now though.” You stand up and grab the small clutch you had with you. “Eh. You’ll get over it. You’ll be okay on your own for a little bit?” She gives you a thumbs up and you make your way over to Hugh and the woman he was speaking to.
“Hi, sorry to interrupt.” You apologize and turn to Hugh. “Could I talk to you alone for a moment?” He looks confused and completely caught off guard. “Uh, yea.” He turns to the woman. “It was nice to catch up with you.” She says something back that you don’t catch, too busy staring at the vein that is basically jumping out of Hugh’s arm. “You wanted to talk to me?” His words bring you out of your thirsting trance. “Follow me.” You grab his hand, dragging him through a door and into a hallway. “Where are we going?” He asks, taken aback by your lack of plan. “I’m not sure.” You say as you continue to drag him. “Y/n slow down, we can talk here. There’s no one out here.” He stops walking and it makes you tumble back, his grip on your hand stopping you from continuing forward. “We need somewhere private.” His confused expression only deepens. “I don’t know how much more private this can get darling. If it’s really that much of a secret, we can stop talking if someone comes by.” He offers and you huff. “I don’t actually wanna talk Hugh.”
“You’re confusing me here darling.” You wiggle your hand out of his and raise it to your head in frustration. “I want you to fuck me.” You look at him and his eyes go wide. “I’m sorry…what?” “If you don’t want to, that's fine, we can go back.” Your confidence began to falter. “Wait, that’s not what I'm saying.”
“So you want to fuck me?” He takes a moment to think before answering.
“Yes.”
“Then help me find somewhere private.” The two of you make your way down the never ending hallway, checking every door you see. Hugh opens a door and closes it, making his way down the hallway. Seeing as it was the only door that opened so far, you went to check it yourself and saw that it was an empty bathroom. “Why’d you keep going, this is perfect.” You shout at him. “I’m not fucking you in a bathroom.” He looks at you like that was obvious. “Well it’s not like we have any other options. Come on.” You go inside and wait for him. Once he’s inside you motion to the door. “Lock it.” You tell him. “We’re really doing this?” He asks, confirming. “Unless you don’t want to.” He takes a pause before speaking again. “Get your pretty ass over here.” He growls.
You walk over to him slowly. He pulls you close to him once you’re in arms reach and you look up at him through your lashes. “Too damn sexy for your own good.” He whispers before leaning down and locking his lips with yours. The feeling of his beard against your skin was addicting. The kiss was slow at first, both of you testing the waters with each other. It was you who begged to enter his mouth, tongue sliding against his lips. You didn’t want to come off so desperate but you needed more from him. His large hands slid down to your ass, giving it a tight squeeze that has you gasping. His tongue dives into your mouth, exploring every crevice. It’s messy but it’s hot. “Jump.” He commands and you listen. His hands grab the back side of your thighs and he walks you over to the counter, sitting you down inbetween two of the sinks. His lips are back on yours the moment your body touches the cold surface.
“You sure you want to do this baby?” He asks. “Positive.” You breathe out. Hugh bends down, sitting on both of his knees. Grabbing your ankle, he gives kisses to the skin that your heel doesn’t cover. He moves upward, leaving long sensual kisses up your calf and thigh, raising the end of your dress as he goes. As simple as the gesture was, it felt erotic, never having a man take this kind of care with you before. His lips move higher, curving with your leg until he’s hovering above your pussy. “You’re wet already baby?” His voice is cocky and if it weren’t for the heat of his breath making your mind foggy, you would’ve called him out on it. He gives the wet spot on your panties a shy kiss. The act has you letting out a quiet moan, sounding louder from the echo of the bathroom. He slips a finger behind the cotton of your underwear and tugs at it while looking up at you. “Can I take these off?” He asks, finger still tugging the fabric dangerously close to where you need him the most. “Yes.” It’s breathy but it gets the job done because Hugh moves his head up, grabbing the top of the fabric with his teeth. He starts to tug your panties down, using one of his hands to help the other side. You lift your body slightly as Hugh pulls them down farther. When they’re all the way off, Hugh sits back with your panties hanging from the big toothy smile he's wearing. The sight was definitely going to be what you pictured the next time you touched yourself.
“Oh fuck me..” He grabs your panties from his teeth and slides them into his back pocket. “Mhm. not yet, baby. Wanna eat your pretty pussy first.” He leans back in between your legs, lips ghosting over your heat. “So perfect.” He whispers as he kisses each pussy lip three times before finally kissing your clit. “Mhmm, please Hugh.” His tongue slides from your opening to your bud teasingly slow. You can feel his beard scratching the sensitive skin but it only adds to the pleasure. He swirls his tongue around your clit a few times before sucking it into his lips, the feeling causes you to jerk your hips. His hands, that were gently holding your ankles, moved up to hold your hips down. His mouth moves down to your opening, tongue plunging in and out a few times before moving back up to your clit. You hadn’t even noticed that one of his hands moved from your hip until you felt one of his fingers dip into you slowly. He curls the finger and moves it back and forth at an unexpectedly fast pace. Before you can adjust to it, he’s adding another finger and it all becomes too much. “Fuck..I’m gonna cum.” Your words are mixed with moans. He doesn't let up, his tongue and fingers speeding up and it has you cumming hard around his fingers, loud moans feel the air. He gives your pussy one last kiss before leaning back and removing his fingers. When you can fully see his face, it is a sight to see. His salt and pepper beard is covered in your slick, lips glossy.
“Want you to see how good you taste darling.” He says while moving his two fingers to your lips. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, taking his fingers in your mouth slowly. Hugh hisses as you suck around his fingers, tongue swirling around each one. Once you're confident that they’re clean, you grab his wrist and take his fingers out of your mouth with a pop. “You still gonna fuck me old man or did you already cum in your pants?” You joke with him. He stands up, both knees popping in the process. Just as you're about to laugh and make fun of him some more, he grabs you off of the counter to stand you up. He turns you around and bends you over the counter. “You keep talking like you weren’t the one staring at me for an hour before asking me to fuck you.” He goes to undo his belt buckle and you shiver at the sound. You're looking back at him through the mirror. “Whatever.” You reach over to your clutch and open it, grabbing a condom. You reach back and hold it back to Hugh. “Here, put this on.” He grabs it with a questioning look. “Why were you carrying condoms?” You roll your eyes and rest your head in your hands, elbows propped up. “Can you mind your business and fuck me already. I’m getting bored.” You were lying right through your teeth. You were far from bored but you wanted to keep the whole ‘hard to get’ game going a little longer.
You watch him open the condom and see his arms move as he rolls it down his cock. As bad as you wished you could see him fully but it was kind of exciting- not knowing what you were about to get. “How do you want me baby?” He asks, looking at you through the mirror. You get a small glimpse of his dick as he slaps it across your ass. “Give me all you got daddy.” He smirks and shakes his head at the name. He lines up his member with your entrance and slides in slowly. Once he’s bottomed out, he doesn’t wait long before he’s slamming back into you. The stretch stings slightly and you hadn’t expected him to be so big. He slaps your ass hard and you yelp in response. You drop your head down at the pleasure. “Nuh uh. Look at me while I fuck you baby.” You raise your head to look at Hugh through the mirror again. “That’s it. Look at how pretty you look getting fucked by an old man.” You couldn’t help but listen to him. Hugh was fucking you dumb and you couldn’t think straight. His balls hitting your clit was what sent you over the edge for a second time. “Please don’t stop Hugh mhmmm fuck baby. I’m cumming, please don’t stop, baby.” Your moans match the rhythm of his hips, each thrust knocking the air out of you with its force. “Just like that sweet girl. Fuck not gonna last much longer.” Even after your high, the pleasure continues as Hugh chases his own. You push your hips back, meeting his thrust. The act makes Hugh moan. “Mhm, I'm gonna cum baby.” His hands squeeze your hips, thrusts getting sloppy as he cums.
The two of you stay quiet as you both freshen up and try to make it less noticeable that you two left to have sex. You push yourself up onto the counter, sitting lazily as you watch Hugh toss his hair around. “Can you kiss me again?” You ask Hugh. He smiles and walks over to stand in between your legs. He grabs your cheeks and kisses you. “Mhm. You're a good kisser.” The compliment is sincere. You could kiss his lips for hours if he’d let you. He hums. “So, are you gonna let me take you out now?” You look in his eyes and smile. “Hugh we can’t. This was fun and it was good sex but that’s all it was.” “Why can’t we?” He’s quick with his words. “It’s just not practical Hugh. I think you're handsome and you seem like a sweet guy but I'm too young for you. The press would tear us apart quicker than we got together.” You explain. “Fuck the press. Let me take you out and get to know you at least.” You sigh. “I’m sorry Hugh. I can’t.” You offer him a small smile. “I’m not gonna stop trying. You’re too good to lose.” He kisses your cheek. “I should get back out there. I have a friend waiting for me.” He steps back, letting you hop down from the counter. “Bye Hugh Jackman.” You give him a small peck on the lips before leaving the bathroom.
—
A few weeks later, you were on set for the newest film you were working on. You’d just arrived an hour earlier and were sent to your trailer to get ready for the first scene. When you walked through the door, you were greeted with a bouquet of wildflowers and a note that read:
I can’t stop thinking about you. -H.J (xxx) xxx-xxxx
tag list: @prettycoolgirl, @nonamevenus, @godlypresley, @pedroscurls, @evasmlp, @bluetimeombre, @sue8724, @princessanglophile, @kellyxo1, @ccmoonshine, @hughverine, @chronicallybubbly, @realhotgirlshitah, @aurlavr, @almosthumongousfunsblog, @wolviesgirl, @flirtyjen, @lilgrinchbitch, @majesticalcocoa, @liamdasimp, @needz1nk, @squishyfruitloop, @afra-ww, @veru-boom
#hugh jackman#hugh jackman x reader#hugh jackman fanfiction#hugh jackman fic#hugh jackman fanfic#hugh jackman smut#hugh jackman oneshot#hugh jackman x female reader#hugh jackman x actress!reader#hugh jackman x y/n#hugh jackman x you#hugh jackman x younger!reader#hugh jackman age gap fic#hugh jackman age gap
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Pool Shenanigans (Christmas Special?)
🐺Pairing(s)🐺→Hugh Jackman x male reader ⚠CW ⚠→ Pool sex, semi-public, sort of public but private, daddy kink, breeding kink, top Hugh, bottom reader, blowjob (reader receiving.), rimming, anal sex, anal rimming I don’t know what other warnings to put. Probably cringy. 🐺Rating🐺→ Explicit 🐺Requested 🐺→ yes
🐺Word Count🐺→ 1.2K
🐺Summary🐺→ You and Hugh were swimming in the pool, but Hugh got handsy, which led to pool shenanigans.
Read before continuing: IF YOU ARE YOUNGER THAN 18 OR ANY OF THE WARNINGS MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, DO NOT CONTINUE READING!
You and Hugh were swimming in the pool early in the morning, splashing water at each other, doing flips, and engaging in other shenanigans. The crystal blue water shone as the sun beamed down on it. The water was clean due to the chemicals, but clean nonetheless.
Hugh was swimming and doing random moves, trying to impress you with his skills. You sat on the edge, kicking your feet and watching the water ripple with each kick. You hummed a soft tune while watching your lovely husband swim.
You then hear the sound of water splashing, coming closer to you. Two large hands grab onto your hips, and you look down and see Hugh appear in your peripheral view. The older man gives his signature grin, water dripping from his hair, and his hairy muscular body glistening in the sunlight. Hugh is a sight to behold.
“Why don’t you come into the water with me?” Hugh asks in a raspy voice as his hands start groping your thighs before moving to your sides. He then presses small kisses and nibbles across your legs, his scruffy beard rubbing against your body. Soft moans and whimpers escape your mouth; Hugh knows how to turn you on.
“This is why I don’t come in the water with you,” You say with a heavy breath. Your cock becomes erect from Hugh’s actions, throbbing and wanting to be released from the tight fabric of your swimming trunks. Gasping as the older man pulls down your trunks, your cock slamming against his face.
“Is that a problem?” Hugh says as his large hands wrap around your aching cock, slowly stroking it. His grin stares at you as he strokes your cock and fondles your balls in his other hand. Suddenly, you feel Hugh take your cock down to the base, a loud moan ringing through the air. “I-I guess… n-not~”
Your moans are music to Hugh’s ear as he sucks your cock, slobbering and lathering your meat with his saliva, swirling the tip, and licking the sides. Tracing his tongue along the veins, he milks you of your moans and other sounds. He pulls back, a string of saliva connecting his mouth to your cock, and you whine from the lack of warmth.
He starts moving further down, kissing your balls before taking the sack into his mouth, suckling on it while stroking your slobber-soaked cock. Your eyes roll back as your hands run through Hugh’s hair, encouraging the older man to continue. Your cock and balls are lathered in saliva before moving down to your gooch area.
Licking long stripes from your balls to your asshole, you were softly pushed onto the concrete and moved a bit from the pool's edge. Then you could hear Hugh leaving the pool. Suddenly, your legs were on Hugh’s shoulder as he started eating your ass out.
His tongue licked around the rim before slowly pushing inside. While preparing your ass for penetration, the older man strokes your cock. “D-daddy… o-oh god~” Your legs clench around Hugh’s head causing the man to further his action. Lathering his finger with saliva, you could feel something long and slightly thick entering your ass.
“Still fucking tight despite me fucking this ass last night… and a couple hours ago.” Hugh groans as he pushes his fingers into your ass, making it stretch for him. For an old man, he sure has a high sex drive. You could already feel an orgasm coming from the stimulation of having your ass fingered and cock stroked.
After deeming you ready, Hugh pulls his throbbing cock from his trunks. You looked to see the large piece of meat throbbing and red after being denied for so long and precum oozing from the cockhead in copious amounts. He slides it and fake thrusts against your entrance, teasing you as your ass tries to capture the cockhead.
He puts you into a missionary position, his eyes stare down and you look up at him.
“P-please… daddy… stop teasing.” That sets Hugh off and he rams his large cock into your warm hole. Groaning and letting out a growl as your ass clenches around him, he looks down to see your already fucked out face, drooling and tears welding in your eyes. The old man slows down to let you adjust, pressing small kisses around your neck and face. After a couple of minutes, Hugh starts thrusting into your tight heat.
Both of your chests heave, Hugh from feeling his cock being swallowed by your ass and you from being filled to the brim by Hugh’s cock. Your moans and whines ring through the quiet air as Hugh thrusts into you.
To prevent anyone from calling the police, the older man presses his lips against yours. Both your moans and groans are muffled by the kiss, the only prominent sound was skin-on-skin and the squelching sounds of you taking Hugh’s cock. “Feel so fucking good, baby boy. So… fuck... tight. Fucking love you so much.” Hugh growls as he goes faster. Suddenly, Hugh’s cock hits the spot it was searching for: your prostate.
blabbering “daddy” repeatedly and asking him to cum inside. Your face is completely fucked out– tears running down your cheeks, slobber and some snot leaking out: a beautiful sight to Hugh.
Hugh starts stroking your cock again, wanting you to cum with him. “Gonna cum soon, baby? Cum with me… gonna fill this tight ass. Fill you with my cum…” Hugh groans as his balls are tightened.
“D-daddy… Daddy, please! Inside… inside!” You whine as you wrap your arms around Hugh’s neck, pulling the older man down to your neck. The breathing quickens between the both of you as Hugh gives one final thrust, biting down on your shoulder as his thick cum floods your ass. You were honestly surprised by how much cum Hugh released.
From the feeling of your ass being bred, your cock spurted its load all over your chest, painting your abdomen white. You feel Hugh’s large hairy body collapse onto yours, trying to catch a breath from the intense lovemaking. He kisses your pecs and his hands roam your body.
“Maybe we fuck in the jacuzzi next time?” Hugh suggested as he tried to pull out but stopped when he heard your whines. The old man stays put and just continues his kisses. “I won’t pull out, baby.”
There was a long pause before Hugh continued his sentence.
“And when I mean next time, I mean tonight.”
THE END
A/N: Hello, my strawberries! Merry Christmas to everyone! Also, if you wish to join my taglist, private message me! As always, special thanks to my proofreader, @sagethegaywitch
Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!
TAGLIST: @spnfanboy777 @meyocoko @buckyshusband0 @mack-thedork @sluttyhusband @wolf-knights @zamfam4272 @ghostking4m @maxxioislost
#x male reader#male reader#male reader insert#male reader imagine#smut#steve rogers#gay#hugh jackman#x male reader smut#hugh jackman smut#hugh jackman x reader#hugh jackman x male reader#fanfiction#hugh jackman x you
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Stuck With Me | Quinn Hughes
Pairing; Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader
Warning(s); Cursing, established relationship, kissing, idk what else. Only edited once.
Summary; Based on this request: "could you do a fic of reader feeling jealous and quinn being reassuring 💕tyy"
Word Count; 4.0k
Author’s note; This is not my best work at all, I'd probably rate it a 4/10 just because I didn't really flesh out the jealousy + the pacing is kind of rushed, but I'm tired of looking at it frankly. Possibly in the future I will go back and edit it and make it better. Thank you to the anon who requested this though, I hope you liked it at least a little bit. Also, it's not really mentioned, but Quinn is not drunk and is okay to drive home + Josh is Josh Norris, and Kaylee is just a character I made up, no one IRL. -Honey.
“You’re staring,” Josh comments, nonchalant as he leans closer to nudge your arm.
Startled, you tear your gaze away and take a long sip of your drink, using the glass as a shield. “I was not,” you mumble, trying to sound casual as you glance sideways at him.
Josh chuckles, the sound resonating just slightly over the music playing. “Sure,” he says, dragging out the word with a smirk that makes it clear he’s not buying your denial for a second.
You roll your eyes, letting out a sigh as you lean back against the cushioned booth. No matter how hard you try, your gaze betrays you, drifting back toward the pool table across the room. Your fingers tighten slightly around your glass as you watch Quinn and Kaylee, their heads tilted close as they laugh about something you can’t hear.
You met Kaylee earlier, when you and Quinn first arrived at the bar. She’d come over almost immediately, her tall frame poised with an effortless grace that made you feel small and slightly disheveled in comparison. She was gorgeous—model-gorgeous—with sleek, fiery red hair that fell perfectly over her shoulders and striking green eyes that seemed to gleam in the dim lighting.
And Quinn had lit up when he saw her.
“She’s just an old friend,” he’d said casually, his hand brushing your lower back as he introduced you. They’d gone to college together, apparently, and while she’d been nothing but kind and polite to you, there was something about the way she made him laugh that stuck with you. It was freer, lighter somehow, as if she knew a version of him you didn’t.
She did, actually.
You knew it was irrational. You knew that Quinn loved you, that he hadn’t seen her in years and that they were just catching up. But the jealousy crept in anyway, an unwelcome guest settling in your chest. It festered beneath your skin, bubbling hotter and more insistent with every glance and every laugh they shared over the pool table.
“You’re doing it again,” Josh observes, snapping you out of your thoughts.
Your head swivels back toward him, a guilty heat rushing to your face. “Doing what?” you ask defensively, though the slight waver in your voice betrays you.
Josh arches a brow, leaning back in his seat as he folds his arms. “Staring. Sulking. Probably plotting Kaylee’s downfall, if I had to guess.” His tone is teasing, and there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he studies you.
You groan, setting your empty glass down on the table with a soft thud. “I’m not sulking.”
“Uh-huh,” he replies, clearly unconvinced.
“And I'm not plotting anyone's downfall!” you insist, but your gaze betrays you once again, flicking back toward Quinn and Kaylee. She’s leaning over the pool table now, lining up a shot, and Quinn is watching her with an amused grin, his arms crossed as he leans casually against the edge.
Your chest tightens. You know it’s nothing. You know Quinn is yours, that he’s coming home with you tonight, but the nagging voice in the back of your mind refuses to let it go.
“I’m gonna go get another drink.” You don’t wait for Josh’s response, sliding out of the booth with your glass in hand. The hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter surround you as you weave through the crowded bar, bodies shifting just enough to let you pass. Your pulse feels louder in your ears than the bass thumping faintly from the overhead speakers.
When you reach the bar, you set your empty glass down with a quiet clink and take a seat on one of the worn barstools. The polished wood is sticky beneath your palms, and the faint scent of spilled beer and citrus lingers in the air.
You glance up, taking in the bartender, a guy with a mullet that somehow works on him, tattoos winding up his arms like intricate stories inked into his skin. He’s busy, sliding a tray of colorful cocktails across the counter to a group of friends celebrating a bachelorette party. You lean on the counter, your gaze drifting to the mirrored shelves behind him, rows of liquor bottles glinting in the dim light like a kaleidoscope of temptation.
After a minute or two, he finally makes his way over to you, wiping his hands on a rag tucked into his waistband. “What can I get you?” he asks, his tone brisk but not unfriendly.
“I’ll just get a Jack and Coke, thanks,” you say, offering the bartender a polite smile. As he reaches for a glass, you lean slightly over the counter, your voice carrying just enough over the ambient noise of the bar. “And my boyfriend has a tab. Last name’s Hughes—put it on there, please.”
The bartender pauses for a moment, giving you a quick once-over before nodding. “Got it,” he says, turning toward the shelves with practiced ease.
You settle back onto the stool, your fingers tracing idle patterns on the sticky wood of the countertop as you glance around. Behind the bar, the bartender moves quickly, grabbing a tumbler and dropping in a few cubes of ice before reaching for the Jack Daniel’s. His movements are efficient, the kind that come from muscle memory, and within moments, the golden liquid pours into the glass, followed by a splash of Coke.
It’s a simple drink, nothing fancy or fussy, but that’s what you like about it—consistent, reliable, no surprises.
He sets the drink in front of you with a small napkin, the condensation already starting to bead on the sides of the glass. “There you go,” he says, glancing briefly in your direction before moving on to the next customer.
“Thanks,” you reply, wrapping your fingers around the cool glass.
Taking a sip, the familiar blend of sweet Coke and smoky whiskey slides down smoothly, the warmth spreading through your chest. It’s exactly what you need—not too strong, not too complicated. Just enough to ground you as you try to push away the nagging thoughts that have been buzzing at the back of your mind all evening.
Sliding off the barstool, you clutch your drink in one hand and begin making your way back to the booth you’d claimed earlier, until your body collides with something—someone—firm and unyielding. A sharp gasp escapes your lips as you stumble back, your drink sloshing out of the glass and soaking into your white top. The cold liquid clings to your skin, staining the fabric a disgusting, murky brown.
“Shit, sorry,” the guy mutters immediately, his voice filled with genuine regret. He moves quickly, grabbing a handful of napkins from the bar behind you. “Here, let me—”
He leans forward, attempting to dab at your shirt with the wad of napkins. His well-meaning gesture only amplifies your frustration, the awkwardness of the situation making your cheeks flush. You set your now-empty glass on the nearest surface with a loud clink and grab the napkins from him.
“It’s fine,” you say, your voice clipped as you step back. “Thanks, I got it.”
You don’t wait for a response, brushing past him and heading toward the bathrooms. Your pulse pounds in your ears, a mix of embarrassment and irritation settling in your chest.
Pushing the door open, you’re relieved to find the women’s bathroom empty. The faint hum of fluorescent lights fills the silence as you approach the sink. With a deep sigh, you wet the bottom of your shirt under the cold stream of water, scrubbing at the stain with a dollop of foamy soap from the dispenser.
The dark blotch stubbornly clings to the fabric, refusing to disappear entirely. You scrub harder, the rough texture of the paper towels adding to your frustration. After a few minutes, the stain fades slightly, the color no longer as glaring as before.
You toss the soggy paper towels into the trash with a sigh of defeat, inspecting the faint brown shadow that still mars your top. “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, resigning yourself to your less-than-pristine appearance. Moving to the hand dryer, you press the button and hold your shirt away from your body, letting the warm blast of air dry the damp fabric.
You let the hand dryer hum for another minute, the hot air doing its best to dry the wet fabric of your shirt. It’s still slightly damp when you decide to give up and leave the bathroom. The faint shadow of the stain remains, but you’ve done all you can. With a sigh, you smooth the fabric down and push the door open, exiting into the social minefield.
As you make your way back to the booth, the familiar knot of unease tightens in your stomach. It’s not just Josh at the booth anymore. The entire group is back now, including Quinn—and Kaylee, of course. They’re sitting next to each other, laughing softly at something, their heads tilted just close enough to make your chest tighten uncomfortably. Because of course they’re next to each other. Of course.
The frustration you’ve been trying to tamp down flares up again, prickling hot under your skin. You glance away, your eyes threatening to roll before you can stop them. But it’s as if Quinn has some sixth sense for your mood, because the second you look back, his gaze locks onto yours.
He smiles at first, the kind of warm, easy smile that usually makes your heart flutter. But then his eyes drop to your shirt, the faint stain still visible against the white fabric, and his expression shifts to one of confusion.
“What happened to your shirt?” he asks, his voice cutting through the chatter as he abandons his conversation. He slides a little further into the booth, making room for you to take your usual seat on the end.
You approach the table, sitting down a little harder than you intended. The irritation bubbling beneath the surface sharpens your tone, and when you finally respond, it comes out rougher than you’d meant. “What do you think happened?”
Quinn blinks, visibly taken aback by the edge in your voice. His eyebrows shoot up briefly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. The silence that follows feels heavy, the casual buzz of the bar suddenly too loud in contrast.
Quinn leans slightly closer, his voice softer now, careful, his breath hitting against your ear. "Are you okay?"
You exhale a long sigh, the weight of the evening pressing down on you as you lean into his side. The familiar warmth of his presence wraps around you, grounding you in a way that words can’t. “I’m fine,” you murmur softly. “Sorry for snapping at you.”
Quinn doesn’t hesitate, his arm slipping casually over your shoulder as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. He presses a kiss against your temple, his lips lingering against your skin for a brief moment.
“It’s okay,” he replies, his voice low, just for you to hear.
For the next little while, you sit in the booth, letting the conversation flow around you. Quinn dives back into catching up with his friends, his laughter easy and unguarded as he shares stories and memories you’re only half-listening to.
You chime in occasionally when someone calls your name, offering a small smile or a quick reply. But mostly, you let yourself fade into the background, content to simply exist beside Quinn. His arm remains draped over your shoulder, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against your arm.
“…double date, right?”
You only catch the tail end of the sentence, your mind still drifting when you feel Quinn give your shoulder a gentle squeeze. The touch pulls you back to the moment, your eyes blinking as you try to focus.
“Sorry, what?” you ask, glancing around the table.
The group erupts into light laughter, the kind that feels good-natured rather than mocking. Quinn leans in slightly, his smile soft but amused as he repeats himself. “A double date. You’d be down for that, right?”
“Oh, uh… sure,” you reply, nodding quickly before the words have fully sunk in. Your gaze shifts between the faces at the table, suddenly feeling as though you’ve missed an important detail. “With who?”
Quinn’s smile widens, and there’s a playful gleam in his eyes. “Kaylee,” he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Your mouth falls open slightly, caught completely off guard by the response. You blink, turning your attention to Kaylee, who’s sipping her drink with an easy grace. “You… have a boyfriend?” you manage to ask, the words spilling out before you can stop them.
Kaylee lets out a light, melodic giggle, setting her glass down on the table. “Soon-to-be fiancé,” she corrects, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. “At least, once he grows a pair and actually proposes.” She laughs again, shaking her head. “He’s working late tonight, so he couldn’t make it.”
Her words hit you like a freight train. Fiancé? Working late? You feel your stomach drop as the realization sinks in. All of your jealousy is baseless. Kaylee wasn’t flirting with Quinn; she wasn’t even remotely interested in him that way.
She had a boyfriend. Soon to be fiancé.
Heat creeps up your neck and into your cheeks, the embarrassment washing over you like a tidal wave. You manage a small smile, but inwardly, you’re cringing so hard you wish the ground would swallow you whole. "Yeah, that'd be fun, for sure."
The next couple of hours fly by in a blur, and before you know it, everyone is saying their goodbyes, exchanging hugs and promises to meet up again soon. The warm glow of the bar’s lights spills out onto the sidewalk as you and Quinn step outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin.
It’s dark now, and a light drizzle begins to fall, the raindrops cool and soft as they dot your clothes. You glance at each other and break into a jog toward the car. By the time you reach it, the rain has picked up, turning from a drizzle into a steady downpour. You barely make it inside before the skies seem to open up, the sound of rain pelting against the roof filling the silence as Quinn starts the engine.
“Well, that was close,” he mutters with a small laugh, brushing the dampness from his sleeves before backing out of the parking spot.
The car is warm, the faint scent of Quinn’s cologne lingering in the air as he drives through the quiet streets. A few minutes pass in comfortable silence, the rhythmic drumming of the rain against the windshield almost hypnotic.
Then, his voice cuts through the quiet. “What was up tonight? You were quieter than usual.”
The question catches you off guard, but you quickly shake your head, hoping to dismiss it. “Nothing,” you say.
Quinn glances at you briefly, his expression skeptical even as he keeps his focus on the road. “I know you,” he says evenly. “And I know it’s not nothing, so just tell me.”
You huff, crossing your arms over your chest as you turn to look out the window. The rain blurs the city lights into streaks of gold and white, a beautiful distraction from the conversation you’d rather not have. “Quinn, I’m serious. It’s nothing,” you insist, your voice firmer this time.
He presses his lips together, his jaw tightening slightly. “Was it something I did?” he asks after a moment, his voice softer now, tinged with concern.
“No,” you reply quickly, shaking your head.
“Then what is it?” he presses again, his tone patient but persistent.
Your chest tightens, the question hanging in the air between you. It’s not that you don’t want to tell him—it’s just that you don’t even know how to put your feelings into words. The jealousy, the self-doubt, the small spiral you’d gone through earlier tonight—it all feels so petty now, so insignificant in hindsight. And yet, the weight of it still lingers, sitting heavy in the pit of your stomach.
You sigh, leaning your head against the cool glass of the window. "Just drop it."
At your words, Quinn pulls the car onto a quiet side street, the tires crunching over loose gravel before coming to a halt. He shifts the gear into park with a resolute click, his jaw tightening.
You turn to him, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing?” you demand, your voice edged with confusion.
He leans back in his seat, shrugging nonchalantly, though his eyes betray his concern. “We’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”
“Quinn, I told you—it’s nothing,” you snap, the irritation bubbling to the surface. Your arms cross tightly over your chest, a defensive shield against his relentless prodding.
He shakes his head, undeterred. “And I know you’re lying.”
A frustrated sigh escapes you, sharp and heavy. “You know what? Fine.” You unbuckle your seatbelt with a jerky motion, the click echoing in the small space. “I’ll walk home.”
Before Quinn can respond, you fling the door open and step into the storm. The frigid rain pelts down, soaking through your clothes almost instantly. The dirt road beneath your feet churns into sticky mud, clinging to your shoes as you march away, your defiance burning hotter than the cold seeping into your skin.
“Y/N!” Quinn shouts from the car, his voice cutting through the rain like a lifeline you refuse to grab. When you don’t stop, he curses under his breath. You hear the unmistakable sound of his seatbelt unclicking and the slam of his door.
The rain muffles his footsteps, but you know he’s chasing after you. “Y/N, wait!” he calls, urgency threading through his voice. You don’t slow, your pace quickening despite the mud threatening to pull you down.
“Y/N!” Quinn’s voice grows closer, and you finally halt, spinning around with enough force to startle him. He skids to a stop, but momentum carries him forward, and he stumbles into you. His hands instinctively reach out, gripping your arms to steady you both.
“You want to know what’s wrong, Quinn?” you snap, your voice trembling with more than just the chill. Rain streaks down your face, mingling with the tears you can no longer hide. “I’m embarrassed, okay?”
His hands drop, and for a moment, he just looks at you, water dripping from his lashes and the ends of his messy hair. “Embarrassed?” he repeats, his voice soft, almost incredulous.
You wipe at your eyes with a trembling hand, though the rain makes the gesture futile. “Yeah, embarrassed,” you admit, your voice barely audible over the steady drumming of rain. You look down, unable to meet his eyes. “I thought Kaylee had a thing for you.”
Quinn blinks, clearly taken aback. “I—you what?” he stammers, his brows knitting together in confusion.
You sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself against the cold rain. “I thought she liked you,” you repeat, more firmly this time, though the words still sting as they leave your mouth. “But she has a boyfriend, so obviously she doesn’t.”
“She’s just a friend from college,” Quinn says, his voice steady, as if the explanation should settle everything.
You nod, but it feels hollow. “I know.”
“And even if she was single,” he continues, stepping closer, “I’m not.”
His words make you glance up despite yourself. The weight in his gaze pins you in place, your breath catching in your throat.
“I have a girlfriend,” he says, his tone softening but no less resolute. “A girlfriend who makes me chase after her in a rainstorm in the middle of the night.”
The corners of his lips tug upward into a faint smile, though there’s no mistaking the seriousness in his eyes. Your heart twists at the realization—you’d been so caught up in your own doubts that you hadn’t stopped to consider how much he’d already chosen you.
The rain pours around you, but the world seems to shrink to just the two of you. For a moment, neither of you speaks. His words hang in the air, heavy with meaning.
“Quinn—” Your voice falters. You search for the right thing to say, something that can express the tangle of emotions inside you. Embarrassment. Relief. Gratitude. "I usually never get jealous like this. I'm sorry."
Quinn’s expression softens as he reaches up, his fingers gently brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The rain pelts in a steady, rhythmic drizzle around you, the droplets catching the light from the streetlamp above, creating a soft halo that bathes you both in a muted glow. He smiles, not in the least bit fazed, his eyes warm and reassuring.
"It's okay," he says simply, as if it's no big deal, his tone so calm, so easy, that it almost makes you feel like your jealousy was nothing at all.
"Quinn, I'm serious," you say, your brows knitting together as you try to convey just how sorry you truly were.
"Baby, it’s okay," he repeats, his voice low and full of understanding. "We all get jealous sometimes," he continues, his fingers now gently brushing your cheek, his thumb softly caressing your skin as if he’s trying to soothe away the tension. "I just ask that next time, you talk to me about it, okay? I want to know how you're feeling."
His words are earnest, leaving no room for doubt. He’s not upset, just asking for honesty—asking for you to trust him with those feelings. And that, more than anything, makes your heart soften.
You nod, the weight of your earlier emotions starting to ease. "I will," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper.
Quinn’s smile deepens, a mixture of relief and affection in his eyes as he gazes down at you. He reaches out, cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing softly over your damp cheeks, wiping away the raindrops that have begun to cling to your skin. Then, without another word, he leans down and captures your lips in a searing kiss.
The world around you seems to fade as his mouth moves against yours, slow and passionate, his lips warm and soft despite the chill of the rain. The kiss is intense, full of emotion, as if he’s pouring everything he feels into it—the reassurance, the love, the unspoken promise that he’s here for you, and only you. Your arms find their way around his neck, pulling him closer, and in that moment, the jealousy, the embarrassment—it all melts away, washed clean by the feeling of his lips on yours.
The rain continues to fall, droplets dancing off the pavement, but all you can feel is him—the solid warmth of his body against yours, the softness of his hands cradling your face. The streetlight above flickers softly, casting the two of you in a golden glow, making the moment feel like something out of a dream, something ethereal and untouchable.
When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests gently against yours, and for a moment, you just stand there, catching your breath, your hearts beating in sync.
Quinn looks into your eyes, his gaze steady and full of love. "And for the record," he says, his voice low and serious but with a teasing lilt at the end, "I don’t want anyone else. You’re stuck with me, okay? Deal with it."
You can’t help the small laugh that escapes your lips, the tension fully gone now, replaced by warmth and affection. The way he says it—so matter-of-fact, so confident—makes your heart swell. You shake your head, smiling as you look up at him, the rain continuing to fall around you both, but in this moment, you’re completely lost in each other.
"I love you," you whisper, your fingers threading through the damp hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down for another kiss, this one softer but just as full of meaning.
#quinn hughes#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes imagines#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes x you
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bed chem.
pairing(s): quinn hughes x fem!reader
warning(s): fluff. mutual pinning. very slight slow burn. suggestive content. 18+.
wc: 1.5K
an: hi lovesss!!!! I present you with a new fic, finally. this song is loosely based off of "bed chem" by sabrina carpenter, and the one and only quinn hughes. this is one of my favorites, I'm really happy with how it turned out! I hope you all enjoy, like and reblog if you did :)
as always, much much love <3
He caught your attention in a room full of people, your eyes stuck to him like glue. Your eyes followed his every movement, watching him wordlessly from across the busy club. Watching how he interacted with the people around him, how his lips broke into a smile as he laughed at something someone said to him.
He, whoever he was, was beautiful. From his hair, eyes, smile, everything. Not to mention how his white fitted shirt looked on him. The fit was so perfect, it almost looked like it was painted on him. You felt like a creep looking at him, but you couldn't help it. There was just something about him that was almost addictive? Something bad, but yet so so good.
“Are you done staring at him like a creep, or are you gonna go over and say something?” your friend says besides you, snapping you out of daydream
“I wasn't looking..just observing” you say, clearing your throat, before taking a drink of the watered down cocktail in front of you in hopes to avert your gaze from the Greek god of a man in front of you.
“Well..he and his friends just looked over here and pointed.” she giggles from besides you
“Shit. Are you joking? Youve got to be joking right?” you whisper-yell to her in a state of panic
“Nope,” she says, popping the p.
“Oh god, yn they're coming over here now.” she says frantically
“Oh my god” you say, moving to sit up straighter in your seat. Your eyes move to follow the very attractive man and his friends make their way over to you guys.
“Shit he is hot, and so are his friends.” your friend gushes out besides you
“Shut it, act normal, talk to me about something.” you say quickly, your eyes flickering to the men who are moving in closer.
Your friend starts talking to you about something random, but you can't concentrate on her words. Your mind is locked in the man approaching, that you can't gather another thought about anything else, as you watch them in the corner of your eye. Just as they are about to reach the table, another large group of men cuts in front of them. Wrapping each of the men into hugs, yelling and smiling as they interact, with what you assume are their friends.
“Youve got to be kidding me” she says, stopping mid sentence of her empty word ramble.
“ well..thats, that i guess” you sign out, looking as the men pull each other to the bar in the opposite direction.
“Guy in the white shirt is looking at you, look up look up.” she says slapping your arm
Quickly reacting, pulling your head up. Your eyes find him quickly, as he looks back at you. Sending you a quick wink and smirk before he turns around following his friends.
“Oh my gosh. Yn he so wants you”
“I don't even know if i'll see him again”
“Never say never.”
You giggle at her opsitism, before throwing the rest of your drink back, hopping out of your seat, moving to grabher hands pulling her towards the dance floor.
“Come on! We came to have fun, right?” you shout at her, as you two giggle walking hand in hand to the dance floor.
–
After lots of fun, maybe too much fun and a few more drinks later. You finally make your way back to your hotel. You come back solo you might add, your friend being pulled away by a hot mysterious man who caught her attention. Leading her to follow him out of the club with a wide smile on her face.
Sighing deeply as you stare at your shoes waiting for the elevator door to open, a few moments later a loud ding signals in the opening. Heading in quickly, and hitting your floor. Leaning your exposed back against the cool elevator door, the only thing on your mind is taking off your shoes, and washing a somewhat disappointing night out away.
Just as the elevator is about to close, you hear a man shouting to hold the door. Pushing yourself off the wall to hit the open button. The out of breath man quickly moves in, as you look up to ask him what floor he needs, you're face to face with, hot fitted white shirt man, who's staring at you with widened eyes.
“What floor do you need?” you ask quietly, struggling to find your words.
“Um, 69 please, oh wait you've already pressed that.” The man finally speaks to you, his deep voice filling the now closed elevator.
“You're the girl from the club tonight.” he says looking over at you from across the elevator.
“And you're the guy” you say
“Felt you looking at me, the whole night” he says, his words causing a blush to rise to your cheeks as you look back down at your shoes.
“Don't be embarrassed, i was looking too.” he continues
“I saw” you spoke
“Almost had you too” he says
“Almost..” you repeat to him softly, your gaze flickering between his lips and eyes.
“Well we’re here now” he replies
“You have 9 floors to make something happen..” you trail off
“Quinn. My names quinn” he says
“Yn. my names yn”
“Well yn i only need 2 floors to make this happen” quinn says, quickly making his way over to you. One of his hands meeting your hip as the other holding your face, pulling you into him, your lips connecting as one.
The motion happens so quickly you barely have time to register what your body is doing until you're kissing him back quickly. Your hands tangle themselves into his hair as you pull yourself into his body.
You two are so wrapped up into each other that you don't even realize the elevator has stopped, the door opening slowly.
Quinn pulls back, his lips swollen as he looks down at you. “How was that for something yn?” he says, dropping his gaze down to you.
“I think i might need you to show me a bit more” you whisper
“Oh really?” he says as he slowly pulls you out of the elevator.
“Mhm” you mumble to him
“Lead the way” he says, dropping his hand from you, waiting on your next move.
You take a second to take him in natural light. Everything about him is intoxicating, you need more. No matter the cost, or how bad of an idea it could be. You don't care, not right now. Before you can give it a second thought, you're pulling him by his hand by your room. Your steps are quick, your body hot with need.
Reaching your room quickly, dropping Quinn's hand, as you start searching for your key card, you feel Quinn's hot body against yours. His lips finding your neck and his hands back on your hips as he pulls you back against him. Your movements began to halter as he began to get lost in his touch.
“Quinn..you have to get off me for 30 seconds so i can open the door”
“Mhm. I know, but I'm getting impatient. I've wanted you all night.” he says against your neck, his warm breath sending chills down your body.
“You wanna know what i've thought about and what i'm thinking about right now? Hm?” he asks
“Yes, yes tell me” you gasp out, your hands trying to move quickly, still in search of the key.
“How the dress would look on the floor, how your body would look against mine. How youd look all fucked out for me in my bed” he says, his lips tight to your ear.
Just as he finishes his sentence, your hands grasp the key card in your purse. Pulling it out quickly, and tapping it against the door aggressively, pushing the door open as soon as it buzzes open.
Quinn moves quickly, pushing you in slamming the door, and before you know it his lips are against yours as if they never left. You're quick to turn him around, your hands moving against the buttons on his shirt as he hits the bed, pulling you on top of him; your lips never once leaving each other.
“You're dangerous” quinn says pulling away from your lips
“Why's that?” you ask, your hands still working to unbutton his shirt.
“I've barely had any of you, and i dont think ill ever get enough” he says looking at you
“Who said you ever have to stop, we’re just getting started” you say while unbuttoning the last button on his shirt before pushing it off his shoulders.
Quinn responds with a look and a small smirk and you know what that means.
#nhl fanfiction#nhl hockey#nhl x reader#nhl imagine#nhl fic#qh43#quinn hughes smut#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes#vancover canucks#quinn hughes fluff#quinn hughes fic
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FAVORITE KIND OF NIGHT ; HUGHES, SLAFKOVSKÝ
PAIR jack hughes x fem!reader, quinn hughes x fem!reader, juraj slafkovský x fem!reader, ex-cole caufield x fem!reader
SUMMARY when you found out your boyfriend of two years had been cheating on you the entire time, you do what every girl does when they get cheated on: you fuck his best friends.
WORD COUNT 5,5k
WARNINGS taboo content, cheating, foursome (f/m/m/m), p in v, unprotected sex, degradation, mention of stomach bulge, creampie, double p in v, rough sex, manhandling, dirty talk, humiliation, subspace, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), gagging, dacryphilia, brief aftercare.
FROM ME TO YOU my loves, listen to your clara very carefully: if you do not agree with ANY of what’s written here, please consider not reading. this is just a silly idea i had a few days ago and i wanted to write about it. i have zero intentions of offending anyone: this is pure fiction! none of this is real! anyways, thank you @cyberhughes for listening to my naughty thoughts about this plot and for having my back. love you juni baby, this one’s for you <3 and for those who are still here, have a nice reading!
𖧷
on that lonely night, said it wouldn't be love
but we felt the rush (fell in love)
it made us believe it was only us
THE THING about being a hockey girlfriend is that you will, most certainly, get cheated on.
When you first heard that, you thought it was just bullshit— not all men are the same and all of that. Some people were just unfortunate to have shitty boyfriends, but not you.
Or at least that’s what you thought before watching a viral video of your boyfriend of two years kissing three different girls at a party.
The video was blurry, and maybe if you were a little bit more naive, you wouldn’t have noticed that the man eating those girls’ lips was, in fact, Cole Caufield, the man you swore to be the love of your life.
“Maybe it’s not him, Y/n,” your friend said, voice soft and gentle, as she put your phone down and locked it. “Cole wouldn’t do that… right?”
Right, you want to say. Of course he wouldn’t do that.
But you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to lie and betray your own trust. You sat there, on your couch, thinking about what you were going to do.
Your relationship was public, Cole had already posted pictures of you several times over the years, but now, so was the fact that he cheated on you with not just one girl, but with two more.
Now, everyone knows that you got cheated on, and that you weren’t an exception to the Hockey rule.
“‘s okay,” you sniff, cleaning your nose with your sweater’s sleeve. “It’s okay.”
It wasn’t, really, but what else could you do?
Truth is, even though you love— loved?— Cole a lot, you had been feeling a little bit weird. Cole didn’t seek you anymore, he didn’t look at you the same way he used to do when you first started dating.
You thought it was just the fact that he was tired and feeling responsible for his team’s recklessness, but clearly, it wasn’t just that.
Days passed after the terrible, awful video, and even though you hadn’t spoken to Cole in probably two weeks— he was away and you couldn’t bring yourself to answer his texts—, you wanted to break things up with him in person.
“Why would you do that?” Your friend asked over the phone, and you sighed.
“Because I’m better than he is,” you say. “And because I need to get closure.”
“I guess you’re right,” she sighs, and then she’s quiet for a few seconds. But, “I need to tell you something.”
“What?” You ask, rolling to your side. “What is it?”
“There’s going to be a party at Zegras’ place tonight,” she says. “Heard Cole shit ass is going.”
“Who told you that?”
“I was talking to one of his new buddies, and he invited me to the party. Said I could go if I kept my mouth shut to you,” she scoffed. “I thought about telling him to hell and then telling him to fuck himself but I thought it might be more useful to pretend I wasn’t going to tell you anything and then tell you everything.”
You chuckled. “Yeah. We’re going, then?”
“We so are going,” she giggles. “I’ll bring the eggs.”
“I’ll bring the flour.”
𖧷
THE PARTY looked more like a frat party than anything, which lowkey disgusted you.
You knew the majority of the players were young and still in their teenager mindset, but whenever you went to a party, it usually had more decorum than whatever this was.
The music was so loud you couldn’t hear your friend talking next to you. People were grinding against each other like they were in heat and ready to fuck in front of everyone, and the room had a strong smell of marijuana and cheap beer.
You rolled your eyes but focused on your reason to be there: find Cole, break up with him and maybe even embarrass him in front of all of his friends.
You tried to warn your friend about where you were going, but since the music was too loud, you just signaled to the door on your right. She nodded, and you moved around the room, feeling with your feet the way the floor shook with the song’s thrumming.
Fortunately, you didn’t have to walk much. Cole’s stupid ass seemed to have forgotten to close his room’s door, and now you were staring at the 5’8” man you thought was going to be the father of your kids, kissing another girl.
“So, this looks really fun, huh?” You said, closing the room’s door, and suddenly, all of the eyes were on you. Cole’s included.
“Y-Y/n, what,” he stutters, removing the girl from his lap and getting up. “What are you doing here, baby?”
“No, what are you doing here?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, feeling yourself start to burn with anger. “Weren’t you supposed to be in New York?”
“No, you see—”
“Is your name New York, sweetie?” You ask the girl who was previously kissing him, who looks like a scared, little kitten. Little does she know you’re not going after her— you couldn't care less about her. “Uh, I guess not.”
There were at least eight other people in the room, sitting there and goofing around. But now, all of them looked like they would pay a hundred thousand bucks not to be in Cole’s shoes.
“Y/n—” he tries again, reaching for your arm.
You step back, flinching away from his touch. “Don’t fucking touch me, Cole. You’re fucking sick. I hope y’all have fun,” you hiss, turning around and heading towards the room’s door again. You look over your shoulder, watching Cole’s sorrowful face. “Enjoy as much as you can, darling. I know his dick won’t make you happy.”
You leave the room with fast steps, not before hearing Cole’s so-called friends laugh out loud with your words. You could feel yourself burning with anger, which made you happy. You thought you were going to feel destroyed, sad and depressed when you confronted him about the fact that he cheated on you regularly.
But after seeing his pathetic expression and actions, you realised you weren’t the one who should be feeling that way.
Your legs were moving on their own, and when you noticed, you were on the second floor, barging in another room, opening its door with full strength.
Only to blush even more, this time not with anger, no.
“Oh, hey there, Y/n. Where’s the fire?”
Jack’s sarcastic tone made you hold the door’s handle tighter, and when you looked around, you felt like a fish out of its tank.
The room was poorly lit, only the yellow light from the lamps reflected on the dark walls of the room, making the environment seem more intimate than it really was.
There were sofas along the room, and low music was playing, probably coming from one of the cell phones.
Because not only Jack Hughes was there, but his oldest brother, Quinn and Juraj Slafkovský.
You didn’t even know Quinn and Jack got along with Slaf, yet there they were, sitting and chatting with each other like they weren’t all rivals during the weekdays.
They laughed with Jack’s little remark before Quinn said: “You can come in, we don’t bite.”
“Unless you want to.” Juraj was the one who said this, to your ultimate surprise, and you rolled your eyes, doing as they said and getting in, closing the door behind you.
“Dude, come on,” Jack laughs. “She has a boyfriend.”
“Not anymore,” you say, for the first time since you opened the door. You eyed the drink cart in the corner of the room, taking full steps towards it and opening the first bottle you say. Whiskey. Great. “I just broke up with Cole, actually.”
There was a second of silence before you heard some clapping behind you, which made you turn around and stare at the grown men sitting across the room.
“What’s this clapping for?” You ask.
“It was about time, Y/n, what the hell,” Juraj says. “Guy’s been cheating on you for months.”
“And you guys didn’t think of, I don’t know, maybe give me a heads up?” You ask, sarcasm pouring out of your mouth while you pour the alcoholic drink in the glass sitting on the wooden surface. Then, you walk until you’re sitting beside Quinn and Juraj. “Would’ve been nice.”
“Sorry,” Quinn says, poking your shoulder. “In my defense, I wasn’t around enough to know he was cheating.”
“In my defense,” Jack starts. “I don’t like him.”
“In my defense,” Juraj finishes, opening his legs and resting his arms behind his head. “I couldn’t do it, because I would’ve been called a homewrecker.”
You almost choked on your drink. “What?!”
“You know I’ve been wanting to fuck you for ages now,” he sighs, like he’s tired of saying that; like he’s been saying that for a long time now. “But you can’t exactly fuck your homie’s girlfriend, can you?”
“Word.” Jack says, leaning forward to fist bumping Juraj. Quinn only chuckles and you can’t believe your eyes.
You’ve known all of them for basically the same amount of time, and you liked them a lot. Jack was a little, teasing shit, way too different from Quinn, but he was funny and so were his brothers— hanging out with them was always fun.
Quinn was private but sweet, probably one of your favorite people in the league. His soft spoken demeanor had made its way into your heart and was now stuck there, for the rest of your life, probably.
And Juraj was an old friend, someone you knew even before you started dating Cole— he was the reason you and Cole got together in the first place.
So hearing that one of your closest friends wants to have sex with you is weird, especially because he had just confessed that in front of two other men.
You stare at them, incredulous. “What are you even talking about?”
“Come on, Y/n, you can’t be this oblivious,” Jack grunts, and you tilt your head, confused. “You didn’t notice the way he looks at you?”
“Fuck you, Hughes,” Slaf curses, giving him the middle finger. “Like you’re one to talk. Everyone knows you’re head over heels for her and you know which head I’m talking about.”
Quinn laughs like what Slaf said had been the funniest thing he’d heard in a while, while Jack simply shrugs and looks at you with expectant eyes.
“You are all drunk. That’s the only explanation I can find,” you say, still choosing not to see what is right in front of you. “And I’m about to be the next one.”
You took just one sip before Quinn wrapped his hand around your glass and took it out of your hands. You were about to complain and ask him what happened when he shook his head, clicking his tongue. “We are not drunk, Y/n. And we don’t want you to be.”
“What? Why not?” You ask. “I promise I’m not that type of person who talks about their love life when they’re drunk. I might talk about Tik Tok memes, though.”
“That’s worse than talking about your shit ass love life,” Jack murmurs and you turn around to look at him with angry eyes. “What?” He asks, grinning, with his hands in the air.
“It’s not my fault I can’t find the right guys,” you sigh, resting your head on Quinn’s shoulder like you’re used to doing. “Why do men suck?”
“Not all of them do, sweets.” Quinn says, placing his hand on your naked thigh, making you blush faintly.
“We don’t.” Juraj murmurs beside you, and you hum.
“Well,” you say, measuring your words. “Unfortunately, I can’t have any of you. So, yeah, I still have the same problem.”
“Who said you can’t have any of us?” Juraj says, and you lift your head, furrowing your eyebrows at him. “Or even better, all of us.”
There’s a beat of silence. The room is suddenly too warm for you, and even if you’re just wearing a skirt and a crop top, you still feel yourself starting to get sweaty.
The song is still playing, an unknown melody reverberating through the room, and what once felt big and spacious suffocates you now.
“You guys. You can’t be serious… right?” You ask, looking at each and every single one of them in the eye.
Jack is the first one to break the silence. “Come on, Y/n. Haven’t you ever thought about us like that?”
You can feel their eyes on you as you think of what to answer. You can’t say you haven’t— that would be a lie. You were loyal to Cole and you loved him, but you weren’t blind.
And now that you’re really thinking, these guys hadn’t been particularly sleek either; Jack with his obsession with calling you pet names, Quinn finding any and every excuse to touch you whenever you were in the same room and Juraj eye-fucking you from afar while you cuddled with his teammate.
So yeah, you have wondered about it before, but it all sounded so insane you didn’t think about it twice. The odds of all four of them liking you were pretty low, so why bother fooling yourself with these kinds of thoughts?
But now, you were sitting in the same room as them, with Juraj’s arm touching yours, Quinn’s hand running up and down your leg, and Jack’s eyes on you, like you were a prey or something similar.
“We can’t do that,” you whisper, trying your hardest to hold onto that single piece of sanity and morals you still had. “You guys are insane. Jack, Quinn’s your brother.” You reason, expecting to knock some sense into them.
Quinn squeezes your thigh slightly. “It wouldn’t be our first time.”
“Besides, it’s fine because we’re not going to fuck each other,” Jack says, like he’s telling you the sky’s blue. “I’m going to fuck you.”
“We are going to fuck you,” Juraj corrects, and you close your eyes, holding your hands together on your lap, trying to keep them still. “What do you say, chéri?” He asks, getting dangerously close to your neck, his strong, masculine scent making your head spin. His lips briefly touch your neck, the contact so light you wouldn’t feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of your surroundings.
Quinn’s warm, big hand is moving up, up and up, and that startles you.
You get up, panting as hard as if you had ran an entire marathon, and you stand in the middle of the room, surrounded by them. By your friends who had just asked to fuck you.
“I can’t— I can’t do this,” you whisper. “What about Cole, what about—”
“Sweetheart, Cole is probably balls deep inside someone else right now,” Quinn replies, and the others hum in agreement. “If you don’t want it because you don’t want to, it’s fine, you know we’d never force you. But,” he spreads his thighs, the outline of his cock is visible and right there for you to see. You gulp, not sure of what to do. “If you don’t want to do it because you still believe Cole deserves your kindness, then I have to say—”
“You’re being dumb,” Juraj finishes Quinn’s sentence, smirking. “You’ll be crying over one small cock when you have three waiting for you. It’s your pick, really.”
Your head is spinning and you feel aware of your body, which is something you hate. You can feel your arms and legs starting to give in, and to your absolute horror and panic, you can feel your underwear start to get sticky.
You walk towards the door, ready to leave, ready to put this night behind and pretend this was all a fever dream, and never think about this again. But, as you grab the handle, you know you won’t be able to forget this, not even if you wanted to.
So, you stop being a hypocrite, and grab the door’s key, locking the door once, and then twice, before exhaling and turning around again.
All three of them are staring at you, with the same expression; lust. It’s sinful and you are certain that you’re going to hell for this, but as you start to get undressed, right there, in the middle of the room, for all of them to see, you can’t help but feel like what you’re doing is nothing but right.
You remove your crop top, pulling the fabric over your head and dropping it on the floor, shivering slightly when the cold breeze hits your naked skin. You do the same with your skirt, letting it fall around your feet like a river, leaving you standing with only your bra and lace underwear in front of them.
“Fuck.” You hear one of them say, you’re not sure who, the word nothing but a whisper.
Juraj is the first one to get up, and get his hands on you. He’s rough, hungry and not careful at all, something you’re not used to but like it anyway.
His lips are on yours almost instantly, and his hands are holding you down while he licks and sucks your mouth. He tastes like some kind of candy you’ve had before, and your brain is screaming that what you’re doing is wrong, so wrong and that you literally just broke up with your boyfriend of two years not even thirty minutes ago but you can’t stop.
It’s maddening, it’s addictive and you want more.
It gets worse when you feel another pair of hands on your back, unclamping your bra. You hear a soft tud, which you can only assume is your bralette hitting the floor. Then, there are hands squeezing your tits, hands almost as rough as Slaf’s, and it has you moaning inside his mouth.
“So fucking soft,” you hear Jack say behind you as he gets closer, his hard dick poking your ass over your underwear. “Tits so fucking soft for us, baby.”
And he pinches both of your nipples, making you whimper loud and separate your lips from Juraj’s. There’s a saliva string connecting both of you and it makes you feel nasty.
He gives you a brief peck before gently slapping your thighs twice, silently asking you to remove your underwear, which you promptly do. You slide your lace panties over your legs, shyly throwing them away from you.
It’s only then that you notice Quinn staring at you from the couch, half naked with his dick out of his boxers— the thought of him getting off only by watching you makes you squeeze your thighs together, to stop your hole from clenching around nothing.
“Let’s get you wet and ready, alright?” Juraj says, manhandling you around like you were just a toy for him to break, until your back touched the cold, wooden surface of the table sitting in the middle of the dark room. You arch your back, pouting with the coldness and Slaf coos at you. “I’m sorry there isn’t anything more comfortable than this.”
“Like she cares about comfort,” Quinn snorts. “The only thing she’s worried about it’s whether she’s taking one or two cocks in that greedy pussy of hers.”
The humiliation Quinn’s words bring you is almost unbearable, yet it has you dripping anyway. Their laughs, the way they’re all staring at you like some piece of meat makes you feel hot all over.
Juraj lays you down carefully, only to spread your legs open with the same roughness he used before, when his lips were on yours. You yelped, feeling exposed and embarrassed— your bare, glistening pussy was on display for all three of them to see.
“Holy shit,” you hear someone say, Juraj maybe, and you cringe, hiding your face with your hands. “She’s perfect.”
“We’ll see about that,” you hear Jack say behind you and you remove your hands from your face. Suddenly, he’s sliding his pants down, his dick touching his covered abs as wraps his fist around his length, slowly jerking off in front of you.
You’re watching it in awe, even as you stare at him upside down, since your head is hanging off the table’s edge. He smirks down at you at the same time Juraj licks your clenching hole, making you moan for the first time, loud and involuntary.
“Ah.”
“Shit,” you hear Slaf say. “Pussy so fucking wet and sweet. Y/n, you’ll drive me crazy.”
You don’t answer; not because you don’t want to but because Jack places his hands on both sides of your cheeks, squeezing them together until your mouth forms the perfect O and he can slide his entire dick inside it.
He moans noisily as you gag on his long dick. It’s an unexpected feeling, to have your throat fucked like this— Cole wasn’t a big fan of messy, rough blowjobs— but fuck if it doesn’t get you wetter.
Juraj is still working hard on your pussy, licking your folds and throbbing clit, eating it with a loud slurp, the sound of your wetness making you close your eyes with pleasure and shame.
“Your mouth feels so good, pretty,” Jack moans behind you, still holding your head in place while he drags his dick through your throat. Your eyes are wet with unshed tears and you feel your mouth so full it is starting to hurt. “Almost as tight as a pussy.”
It’s overwhelming to try to manage the feeling of Juraj’s tongue and Jack’s cock on you. You feel warm, your hands are gripping the table like your life depends on it, and you can feel yourself start to slip more and more.
“She’s wet enough already,” Quinn states, and the fact that he’s referring to you like you’re not even there makes you whimper loudly around Jack’s cock.
Next thing you know, you’re being manhandled again; Jack’s rough hands leave your cheeks to hold your waist instead, taking you to the nearest couch and laying down with you on top of him.
You’re facing him, those blue eyes never leaving yours. “Y/n,” he starts, his tone gentle for the first time that night. You hum, adjusting yourself on top of him, until you have both of your legs on each side of his body, almost on fours on top of him, highly aware that Quinn and Slaf could see everything. “We are going to be rough.”
“I know,” you whisper.
“I’m not asking for permission, baby, do you understand that?” He talks to you like one would do to a child, using a tone so soft it could put you to sleep, if it were any other situation. You bite your lips, feeling Slaf’s long fingers sliding up and down your pussy, rubbing circles on your swollen clit while Jack speaks. “We are going to be rough. Tonight, you’re nothing but a toy for us to play with, alright? A hole for us to fuck.”
You nod, closing your eyes momentarily as Juraj pinches your clit, hard. He tugs it and it feels like he just placed a clothespin on you. It hurts so. Good.
“I need your words, baby.”
“I u-understand that,” you sob, hot tears running freely down your face as you continue to speak. “I w-want it.”
Jack chuckles, touching your face with care. “It would be so nice if we actually cared about what you want, huh?”
You bit your lip again, suppressing a loud moan. It would be even more embarrassing if they realized how wet you got every time they were mean towards you.
“Bitch gets wetter and wetter every time you say shit like that, Hughes,” Juraj says, and your entire face burns with shame, as you hide it in the crock of Jack’s neck. “Come see this shit, Quinn.”
You tremble as you hear a pair of steps echoing through the room, and without warning, you feel your hips getting lifted, just slightly, at the same time you feel two fingers being inserted inside deeply in your pussy.
You whine loudly, not even feeling pain with how wet you were. His fingers were moving around like you were nothing but a sex doll, making you hold Jack’s arm to steady yourself.
“Look at this tight, little thing,” Juraj says, twirling his fingers around, scissoring them inside you. “Merde. She’s milking my fucking fingers, bro.”
“I can see that,” Quinn hums. “Pussy so fucking greedy she’s taking you without complaints.”
You were about to moan again when Juraj removed his fingers from you, leaving you clenching around nothing, once again. “Let’s start, then.”
After that, it’s hard to tell what really happened. You were thrown around, and suddenly, Slaf was laying under you, Quinn was standing beside you and you assumed Jack was behind you.
You could feel one of them poking their cock through your slit, gathering all your wetness to use as lube. Then, he slowly started to insert it, the stretch making you whimper inside Slaf’s mouth, as he bruised your lips roughly again.
Jack had barely given you time to adjust to his length when you felt Juraj’s tip poking at your entrance too. You gasped inside his mouth, feeling his dick joining Jack’s inside you and.
Oh.
“Fuck, Y/n.”
You opened your eyes, glistening with tears, and stared at Quinn standing beside you, who was looking at you with fond eyes. He chuckles while staring down at you, taking his dick out again and grabbing it with his right hand, running the tip over your mouth.
The salty taste of his precum painting your lips white distracted you momentarily from the fact that Juraj was still trying to put his dick inside you, accompanying Jack’s.
But it wasn’t enough, of course— even if Juraj's thick, long fingers had stretched you, it didn’t compare to having both of their cocks inside you, together.
“Oh,” you heard Quinn coo. “She’s crying. Maybe she can’t take it?”
You shook your head immediately, not even acknowledging how desperate you looked. Quinn put his thumb inside your mouth at the same time Juraj completely bottomed out inside you, making you scream around the brunette’s finger.
“Sh, sh,” Juraj mumbled under you. “Take it, hm?”
The stretch hurt, yet you couldn’t ask them to stop— you felt so full and you swear you can feel them rearranging your guts, reaching so deep inside your body that if you were to look, you’d probably see a bulge in your stomach.
“Holy shit, man,” Jack moaned, dragging his dick slowly until only the tip was in, so that he could slam it back into you again. “She’s so fucking tight.”
“Move, Hughes.” Juraj hissed under you, and after that, everything fell into a pure state of lust.
Jack and Juraj slammed their cocks inside you rhythmically, like they were dancing a well rehearsed dance. Your body jolted forward as they pounded inside you, rough hands— you didn’t know who's— holding you by your waist and pulling your hair at the same time.
Quinn, who had just been jerking his cock while looking at you, decides to take the opportunity and shove his dick inside you, making you gag around his thick length.
“Shit, Y/n,” he moans, throwing his head back. “I’m going to wreck your mouth like they’re doing with your pussy.”
And he wasn’t lying. He tilted your head to the side and thrust his dick deep inside your mouth, until your nose touched his crotch area. You gagged, still not used to the reckless act, but you were far too gone to complain.
The room smelled like sex, lust and sin. The dark walls watched as you laid on top of Juraj’s much bigger body while you took their cocks in two of your holes, with your pupils blown and wide. Your face was destroyed, it didn’t need to be a genius to realize that; your mascara had smudged under your eyes and the tears had spread the black ink almost everywhere.
Your legs hurt, and so did your jaw, but the pleasure was bigger than any pain. You had never felt this dirty, this raw before, but you feared that after this night, you wouldn’t ever be the same; nothing besides them would ever be enough.
“She feels so good,” Jack says, voice filled with need. “She was born for this.”
“Fuck, you’re right,” Juraj says, kissing your neck while you gagged around Quinn’s dick. “Born to take cock inside her tiny pussy.”
After that, you keep slipping and slipping. You come on their dicks at least twice, falling apart each time you feel your wetness coating their dicks.
Your throat is raw, your jaw is hurting, but Quinn is close to his climax, like his brother and Slaf.
Jack and Slaf are the first to come, both painting your walls white with their seed. It’s maddening, your belly feels full of them, but you don’t have time to acknowledge that properly, not when Quinn is also coming deep inside your throat.
You lay limp on top of Slaf’s broad chest, closing your eyes, tired.
But—
“Y/n, hey,” you hear Quinn calling, and you open your eyes, just barely. “Can you stand up, just for a bit?”
“Don’t let it go to waste, baby,” Juraj warns you, and you keep clenching even after they remove their dicks. It’s hard, you feel so open you should be disgusted at yourself but you still try to do as they said.
You feel a pair of hands lifting you, and you sigh, exhausted. They manhandled you until you were laying on top of the couch, head resting on your arms. A rough pair of hands— Jack’s— spread your legs open, leaving you exposed once again.
“Go on,” he commands, and you let it go, feeling their sticky cum pour out of your used, gaping pussy. You sob, feeling dirty.
“Jesus fuck.”
“I think I’m hard again.”
“Lowkey, yeah.”
You collapse on the couch once you feel like there’s nothing left, blacking out as soon as your head hits the leather.
𖧷
YOU WOKE up with a light touch on your cheek.
It takes a while for you to manage to open your eyes, but when you do, you thank whoever decided to put a yellow, warm lighting in that room.
“Hi.”
Jack’s voice brings you back to the present, and you lift your head, only then realising that you were in his lap, fully clothed— with clothes that weren’t yours— and covered with something heavy that felt like a blanket.
You frowned.
“What… what happened?” You ask, looking around. There was Juraj, who was placing a few takeout bags on the table, and Quinn, who was holding an old piece of cloth. “Oh my God.”
It was real. You fucked Jack, Juraj and Quinn.
“Oh my God,” you groan, hiding your face in Jack’s chest.
“I hope these exclamations of yours are because you’re wearing Zegras’ hideous clothes and not because you realized you fucked the three of us.” Jack says, sarcasm taking over his face.
“Why would we do that,” you mumble. “Gosh. That’s wrong in so many ways, I can’t even begin to—”
“Y/n,” Quinn calls you, dropping the cloth on the table— the same table Juraj had eaten you out on— and walking towards you, lifting your chin with two of his fingers. “Did you enjoy it?”
“I— Well— We—” you stumbled over your words, not sure of what to say.
He applies pressure on your chin, sapphire eyes squinting at you. “Answer me, sweetheart.”
“I—” you sighed. “Yeah. I did.”
He smiled.
“Then we’re fine.” It’s all he says, before pecking your lips, briefly. It was your first time kissing him and you secretly didn’t want it to be the last.
“We liked it too,” Jack says once his brother lets you go. He winks at you, smirking. “I’ll never forget the sight of you full with my—”
You put your hand over his mouth, red as an apple. “Okay, alright, shut up.”
He chuckles, taking your hand away and kissing you, exploring your mouth with his tongue, just like his brother had done, barely two minutes ago.
“You guys are no fun,” you hear Slaf’s voice. “In my opinion, we should just keep doing this.”
“No,” you say. “This was a one time thing. We can’t keep fucking each other like this.”
“As I said, no fun.”
“She’ll change her mind in a few days, I just know it.” Jack says under you and you roll your eyes at his cockiness.
“I’m too tired to argue with you,” you say. “I smell Chinese food. Can we eat?”
“Yeah, we should probably do that,” Quinn says, nodding. “It’s late already. Let’s eat and take Y/n home.”
Juraj and Jack agree with just a few more complaints, and while you watch them take turns to feed you, you realize, with shame, that Jack was wrong about one thing.
It wouldn’t take a few days for you to change your mind.
You had already done it.
NHL MASTERLIST.
JACK HUGHES MASTERLIST.
QUINN HUGHES MASTERLIST.
#jh86#qh43#js20#vancouver canucks x oc#vancouver canucks fic#vancouver canucks imagine#vancouver canucks#quinn hughes x you#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes smut#quinn hughes imagine#captain quinn#quinn hughes#new jersey devils x you#new jersey devils x reader#new jersey devils fic#new jersey devils#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes x you#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes fic#jack hughes smut#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes#juraj slafkovský#juraj slafkovsky x reader#juraj slafkovsky x you#juraj slafkovsky fic
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Sugar daddy hugh touching you under the table at some fancy event, LOOK AT HIM
https://x.com/lokispoem/status/1826978276893401192?s=46
Sugar Daddy Hugh: 2
18+ No Minors
A/N: I love you for this. Yall always come thru with the links 😮💨 I love sugar daddy! Hugh. I recommend watching the link too 😉
Warnings: public fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it), daddy kink, basically a slow burn love story atp
Hugh leads you into the luxurious building, gripping your hand tightly as you both walk through the crowd. He pulls a chair out for you allowing you to sit before sitting beside you and resting his hand on your thigh. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" He asks, noticing you're a little extra quiet tonight.
"I'm just not used to... all this, I guess. I know you've brought me to plenty events and parties but I'm still shocked by them." You slowly say, looking around at the fancy decorations. "You'll get used to it after a while. Honestly, I rarely pay attention to it anymore." Hugh tells you with a small smile, gripping your hand again and bringing it to his lips, kissing it softly.
"I'm afraid once I get used to it, you wouldn't want anything to do with me anymore." The words fall from your mouth before you can stop them, feeling Hugh's eyes automatically lock onto you. "Quit talking like that, princess. You know I will always want you." He sternly says, his jaw clenching slightly.
Before you can respond, the waiter walks up and sets two drinks and two plates of food down in front of you, thanking him quietly before reaching for your champagne. Hugh keeps his eyes on you while he slowly eats his food, placing a hand back on your thigh.
The sound of soft music from the band fills the air causing you to slowly zone out but Hugh's thumb rubbing slowly back and forth keeps you from fully zoning out.
"How's your chicken?" He asks, moving his hand up higher. You glance over at him to see what he's doing but he keeps his eyes on his plate, eating the vegetables that came with the meal. "It's good." You squeak as his fingers ghost over your panties.
Your eyes frantically scan the room, noticing no one is paying attention to either one of you and his long fingers slowly press against your clit, a light almost teasing move that causes your hips to shift towards his hand. "You okay, princess?" He innocently asks, pressing his fingers harder against the dampening fabric.
You nod, focusing on your plate as you notice Hugh leaning towards you from your peripheral vision. His warm breath over your ear sends a shiver through your body, hearing him whisper, "I think I asked you a question, princess." "I'm okay, daddy." Your voice is shaky, causing him to smirk and his fingers to finally slide in your panties.
"So wet.. is that all for daddy?" He chuckles, leaning back in his chair as if it's the most casual thing in the world. The band starts playing a louder song, causing majority of the people to run to the dance floor while the others stay behind to drink and chat, not paying mind to neither you or Hugh.
His fingers slide past your folds and slowly move inside of you, causing you to moan but you quickly bite your lip. Hugh moves his fingers abruptly, smirking as he brings them up to your lips. "There you go, princess." Hugh coos as he stands up and grabs your hand, leading you towards the bathroom.
He locks the door behind him, turning around and kisses you deeply while pushing you up against the sink. "How many times do I have to tell you that you're all I want, love?" Hugh asks, pulling your dress up and sets you on the sink as you notice the change in your nickname.
"I'm sorry, daddy." You whimper but he shakes his head. He pulls his erect cock out of his pants, quickly sinking inside of you causing you to moan out. His hand clasps down on your mouth while he pounds into you.
Hugh's eyes connect with yours, the sound of your skin slapping against one another and the sink slightly rocking fills the little bathroom but at this point you don't care who hears. He leans down and kisses you again, your legs wrapping around his waist as you feel your orgasm creeping up.
His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing quickly as you start trembling against him. Hugh moans against your lips once both of your releases hit and he slowly continues to move inside of you, holding you close to him.
"If you could see yourself the way I see you, you would never question my love or loyalty to you. Quit running yourself down because you don't think you're good enough, you're everything I've ever wanted and more." Hugh tells you and your heart skips a beat at his confession but instead of saying something, you hold him close and listen to his heartbeat.
"C'mon, let's get cleaned up and go home." He says, kissing your forehead softly.
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MAROON — JACK HUGHES
jack hughes x fem!reader
published: February 7th, 2023
summary: in which y/n and her best friend, Jack, get drunk on cheap wine and finally confess their feelings in her New York apartment.
specific lyrics: “‘how’d we end up on the floor anyway?’ you say, ‘your roommate’s cheap-ass screw top rosé, that’s how.’” and “the burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me and how the blood rushed into my cheeks” and “i chose you, the one i was dancing with in New York..”
warnings: light profanity, alcohol
GIF by jonasiegenthaler
i’ve known the Hughes family my entire life. with my mom and Ellen Hughes being best friends from playing hockey together, i grew up spending my summers at the Hughes lake house and visiting whenever possible. so, of course, i grew close to the three brothers.
Quinn, the oldest, is three years older than me. growing up he was always like the annoying, protective older brother i never had, and he still is.
Luke, the youngest, is a year younger than me. he’s my buddy, the one i go to when i need something set straight for me, and the only guy i know that would sit in his bedroom and miss a party at his own house just so he could comfort me over the phone.
and lastly, Jack. a year older than me, and my best friend since i was born, i guess. my mom and Ellen have always said that as soon as i was born, it was like Jack knew we were meant to be best friends. they claim that when i was a baby and he was one, he would cry until they put him in my crib with me, in which case they swear that it would instantly put a smile on my face. but no matter if those stories are true or not, we have indeed been best friends since diapers.
Jack and i’s friendship has always been different than the ones i have with his brothers, especially when i turned thirteen and started really paying attention to guys. that was the fateful year that Jack graduated from not only being my best friend but also my biggest crush. i started noticing not only how cute he really is, but how sweet he could be, and how comfortable i am with him.
which brings us to now, in my New York apartment, where i’m currently sat on the floor with the guy i’m head over heels in love with, sharing a bottle of wine. it’s the first week of the off-season and he had originally came over to help me pack for the annual lake house trip, but then my roommate popped her head in to ask if we wanted a couple bottles of rosé that she bought on sale. she was about to leave for the airport for her flight back home for the summer and couldn’t bring them with her. so Jack and i shared a quick glance and said yes, and now here we are.
i’m sat with my back against the coffee table, my feet in Jack’s lap.
“hey, do you remember that time- when uh- when Luke jumped into the lake from the rope swing, and just completely belly flopped?” Jack’s words were broken up between fits of laughter, and i burst out in laughter, as well, at the memory.
“oh my god yes! his entire chest and stomach were red!” it’s a wonder how we’ve yet to get a noise complaint from my neighbors by now. as our laughter dies down, Jack shifts around.
“my ass is numb from the hardwood.” he tells me, and the casual announcement makes me double over in laughter once more.
“how’d we end up on the floor, anyway?” i wonder out loud.
“your roommates cheap-ass screw top rosé, that’s how!” he exclaims through giggles. i don’t laugh with him, instead i stay silent, studying him. he’s so beautiful.
Jack stands from the floor, letting my feet roll of his lap and land with a thump. grabbing the empty wine bottle and our glasses from the coffee table, he goes into the kitchen. i watch him as he grabs my bottle of red wine from the fridge, refilling our glasses before walking back to me. he bends down to hand me my glass, but in his inebriated state, he doesn’t pay attention to his own glass in his hand and his wine splashes onto my white t-shirt. the burgundy liquid staining and leaving the shirt slightly see through, clinging to my braless chest.
“oh shit, sorry y/n/n!” his eyes go wide and he stares at my chest. logically, i know he’s just looking at the stain and not my breasts, but blood rushes into my cheeks at the thought of him eyeing my chest.
“it’s fine!” i wave it off, as i stand to go change. “i’ll be right back.”
i go into my bedroom and ruffle through the shirts that i don’t have packed for the summer, picking out an old USA Hockey shirt of Jack’s.
i step back out into the living room to find Jack had put on one of my vinyl’s, i watch as he dances around my living room to the sound of Photograph by Ed Sheeran. a smile breaks across my face as he just spins around the room. finally spotting me, he walks over and holds his hand out.
“dance with me, belle.” my heart flutters at his use of the nickname he started calling me in high school. he never explained why he started calling me ‘belle’, all i know is that one day when i had met him after his french class and my spanish class, he said he had a new nickname for me, and he’s called me ‘belle’ ever since. usually the nickname seems to be reserved for special moments or when it’s just the two of us.
i slip my hand in his, allowing him to pull me closer. his hands take hold of my arms, sliding them up onto his shoulders, and he wraps his arms around my waist, swaying us around the living room. he gazes down at me, a soft smile on his face and an unreadable emotion present in his eyes.
“hi.” his voice is barely a whisper.
“hi.” i reply in the same low volume. his eyes flicker over my face and his cheeks turn pink. making me ask- “what are you thinking?”
“i’m thinking that i’ve wanted to be in this position since high school.” his words confuse me. but my heart speeds up, as if it knows what he means before my brain does.
“dancing?” i laugh halfheartedly.
“you in my arms. just the two of us.” he clarifies and i can feel myself blush for the second time tonight.
“if you wanted me to yourself, you could’ve just asked.” i joke.
“i don’t just want you to myself.” he whispers. “i want you to be mine.”
his reply causes me to stumble a step, and my heart feels like it might beat out of my chest.
“don’t say things you don’t mean, Jack.” i tell him. suddenly, i feel insecure and afraid. i’ve never felt this way with him. other guys, sure. but never him.
“why would you think i don’t mean what i’m saying?” he stops our dancing and i only just realize that the song has changed. my arms slip off his shoulders, dropping back down to my sides, but his hands never leave my hips. “y/n, do you think i would say something like that if i don’t mean it?”
“i don’t know.” i mumble, shrugging my shoulders. he brings a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, before letting it fall back down to my hip.
“i’ve been in love with you since high school, y/n/n. i thought by now you would’ve caught on, but i guess that’s on me because you always have been pretty oblivious when it comes to flirting.” he laughs.
“wait, what?” i ask. please don’t be messing with me. please be telling the truth.
“did you really not know? look if this is too much, if you don’t like me like that, then just tell me. straight out. because i don’t want to compromise our friendship with this confession. we can just forget it ever happened.” that sobers me up real quickly.
“wait, no, hold on. i never said i didn’t like you.” i rebut.
“what are you saying?” by the smirk on his face, i know he knows what i’m saying, but i take a deep breath and clarify anyways.
“jack, i’ve liked you since i was thirteen.” i confess. “i didn’t think you thought of me as anything more than your annoying best friend though.”
“y/n, i literally gave you a nickname that translates to ‘beautiful’ and you thought i was looking at you like ‘oh yeah that’s my best friend, she’s so annoying’?” he asks.
“what? is that what that means?” my tone is incredulous. i assumed he was calling me ‘belle’ like princess belle because i like to read.
“oh my god, you really had no idea? i literally gave you that nickname after we learned the word in french class. you were the first thing that popped in my head when we learned it.”
i can’t take any more talking. Jack starts to say something else but i cut him off by pressing my lips against his. it doesn’t take him more than a second to start kissing back, his lips locking with mine.
i pull back, breathless and anxious, but the smile Jack wears eases my nerves.
“so you like me, huh?” he jokes.
“oh shut up.” i roll my eyes, giving his shoulder a playful shoulder.
**BONUS SCENE**
we’ve been at the lake house for three days and so far, no one has even noticed that Jack and i are officially dating. have we really always been this touchy?
Jack and i have made a game out of it, guessing who the first person to notice will be. he says Ellen or my mom, but i say Quinn or Luke. we both know our dads don’t pay enough attention to catch onto anything.
i walk down the stairs, prepared to grab a snack before us ‘kids’ head out on the boat. Ellen and my mom sit in the kitchen talking, but go silent as soon as i walk in.
“heyyy.” i drag out, eyeing them suspiciously.
“hi, honey.” Ellen gives me a kiss on the forehead as i stop in front of them.
“what were you two talking about?” i ask.
“nothing.” they say in unison, shaking their heads.
“i believe you, not at all.” i joke, opening a cupboard to grab a granola bar. “what was it?”
“they were talking about you and Jack.” Luke says, walking out from the walk-in pantry. “mom was saying she thinks they should set you guys up on a blind date with each other.”
“Luke Warren Hughes! how long have you been in there?!” Ellen scolds, not even bothering to deny his claims.
“i was looking for something to eat, you’re the ones who came in gossiping.” he shrugs. before Ellen can refute, Jack walks in from the same way i came. wrapping an arm around my shoulders, he stops next to me.
“what are you guys talking about?” Jack asks.
“our moms wanted to set us up on a blind date.” i say, a sly smile on my lips as i look up at him.
Jack lets out a chuckle before directing his gaze to his mom.
“sorry, no can do mom. i’ve got a girlfriend.” he smiles, and i have to bite back a grin. it’s the first time he’s called me his girlfriend. i like it.
“you what?!” Ellen exclaims. “why have i not met her? or even heard about her?”
“it’s a recent development.” Jack shrugs. “anyways, i’m gonna steal y/n/n here. Quinn is waiting for us at the boat. Luke, c’mon.”
before i can even think to take a step, Jack sweeps my feet off the ground, throwing me over his shoulder and walking away. i smack at his back with my free hand while one still clutches my granola bar.
“Jack Rowden Hughes, put me down! right now!” he barks out a laugh and i can feel his neck shift against me like he’s moving his head around before he lands a smack against my ass. “HEY!”
he ignores my struggles, walking down to the dock, all the way to the boat before finally setting me down.
“i can walk. i have legs.” i laugh.
“i know, but i wanted to carry you.” he grins down at me. i scan the dock for Quinn, but with no sight of him i relax.
“you just wanted an excuse to stare at my ass.” i joke. Jack hooks his fingers through the front belt loops on my shorts, tugging me closer so that i’m pressed up against him.
“and is that a crime?” he asks. i smile up at him, sending one last glance toward the house over his shoulder, not seeing Quinn or Luke. i lean up, planting a kiss on his lips.
“what the fuck?!!” the exclamation comes from behind me and i pull back, spinning around quickly to find Quinn stood on the boat. he’s leaned over the side, staring at Jack and i with a dropped jaw.
“oh- hi, Quinny.” i smile, painting on a face of innocence. Quinn’s eyes dart between me and Jack.
“when the hell did this happen?” he asks. “i knew i never should’ve let you move to New York. he’s corrupted you. i should’ve insisted you moved to Vancouver, but no, i said ‘if New York is where she wants to be, i won’t push.’ i should’ve pushed.”
i look over to Jack, sharing an amused smile with my boyfriend as his brother rambles on.
“Quinn.” i interrupt. he stops, throwing me a raised brow before giving a side eye to his younger brother. “did you really think this wouldn’t happen eventually?”
he sighs, before nodding.
“i know. i expected this. i prepared for this.” it’s my turn to quirk a brow now.
“you prepared for this?” i ask. he nods and hops onto the dock.
“okay, it’s time for us to talk. Jack, y/n, when a man and a woman love each other very much, sometimes-”
“oH MY GOD.” i shout. plugging my fingers in my ears. “la la la la la i can’t hear you! i am not currently getting the sex talk from my boyfriends older brother! la la la la la.”
Quinn’s face lights up and he burst out in laughter. i take my fingers out of my ears, eyeing him.
“oh, that was good! you should’ve seen your faces!” he laughs. i turn to look at Jack, who still wears a disgusted grimace. i pat his chest and let out a sigh. “seriously, i’ll be right back though.”
Quinn takes off in a jog towards the lake house, but before he disappears inside, i hear him yell.
“MOM! YOU’LL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT I JUST SAW!”
Jack finally unfreezes from his state of disgust. pulling out his wallet and handing me a twenty dollar bill.
“you won.”
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✨Absolute works of art!✨
All the works listed in this masterlist are for mature audiences and contain adult themes. Please proceed responsibly.
Hello friends!
This masterlist is a heartfelt collection of works that have captivated me, stayed with me, and, honestly, left me more than a little obsessed. These stories are nothing short of masterpieces, crafted by authors whose talent knows no bounds, bringing characters and worlds to life in ways that feel almost tangible.
It’s important to note that none of these stories are mine. Each one belongs to the brilliant writers who poured their creativity and heart into them. I’m simply here to share the love and appreciation for their work.
To the authors: thank you, sincerely, for sharing your talent and for creating these worlds that let us escape, feel, and dream.
You’ve made a mark on me as a reader, and I hope this masterlist helps others fall in love with your stories as much as I have.
Logan Howlett
@bluetimeombre
Hugh and you are WIRED
@briseroyawritingsblog
Futuristic Lover (Masterlist)
@bpmiranda
Friendly competition
Role Play
Off Camera
Guard Dog
Best in The Business
@cupidscorpsee
You missed the damn line (Hugh)
@d1stalker
This is Ours
@dilf-docs
Misery Reigns My Lonely Neon Nights
@eufezco
After Midnight
@fartcloudfartcloud
Logan Howlett × Squirter! Reader
@gothgoblinbabe
The Art of Make-believe Matrimony
@hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall
Celebration
@hyper-fixates
Time after time
@inkedells
Old Logan!
Logan x reader
@joelsflower
Love Language
@joelsgoldrush
Never is a Promise
You can Use my Skin to Bury Secrets In
crawl home to her
@logansbaby
Guilty as a Sin
@mistyorchid
Meet-Cute
@moonlight-prose
THE GRAVE OF LUST
Right Where you left me (Masterlist)
@murdrdocs
80's Logan
go about things the wrong way
@mcrdvcks
Until I Found You
Nasty
@retrosabers
How I look on you
@sceletaflores
I COULD PLAY THE DOCTOR ( CAN CURE YOUR DISEASE)
he's a good time, cowboy casanova!
SINK IN ME WITH YOUR DOG TEETH!
@shellshocklove
Snapshot
@thinkinonsense
Wicked
call me if you're only
@tteotlma
Silk and Submission
Missed Every Inch
Edge of Redemption
@wyniepooh
Loving him was never enough
@wlwloverwrites
Quiet Drive
@yxtkiwiyxt
Beggin' for Seconds
A New Kind of Beautiful
I Think You Know
@flowersforbucky
for always and ever is always for you
@eloquentlytired
Fisherman LoganxOlder Reader
@pandapetals
Pony
Frankie Morales
Life In The Fast Lane by @mylostloversbookmarks
you make loving fun. by @redahlia-writes
Listen by @frannyzooey
Meant To Be by @absurdthirst
Plastic Hearts (Masterlist) by @guess-my-next-obsession
Sweet Lies (Masterlist) by @lavendertales
#masterlist#logan howlett#javier peña#tony stark#frankie morales#logan howlet smut#logan howlet x reader#javier pena smut#javier pena x reader#old man logan x reader#mcu cast#old man logan
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i want you | logan howlett
warning(s): afab!reader if you really squint, cursing, immense and unbelievable heartbreak, spoilers for Logan (2017)
GIF by anonymous
author's note: I'm back where I came from writing x-men fanfiction and naming chapters after songs, life has truly come full circle. I could sit here and write some smut, talk about how much I want lick Logan (Hugh Jackman in general) from head to toe, OR I could break all of our hearts so guess what I chose :)
This is going to be a series so let me know if you want to be tagged.
-.-.-
It’s embarrassing; shameful, but he needs to have something.
Charles has to know about this little habit, somewhere in his few moments of clarity.
It’s practically morning when he comes back from work, but the water is running. He lingers; he always lingers when he realizes it’s you behind that door. He tells himself it’s typical animal behavior, he’ll guard you like the dog he is.
Today he’s not even good at that. His legs can’t hold him up any longer.
His feet take him to your room.
It’s probably the only part of this godforsaken place that smells nice. Almost feels like a real home in here, with your fresh cotton sheets and plush comforter. He won’t sully them, so he sits on the floor instead – a proper dog.
He should just fucking die already. Just send you off to a better life and die.
It’s what he deserves and long overdue.
You wouldn’t leave him though, and you most definitely wouldn’t leave Charles, or to be exact, what measly bits are left of both of them.
What a fucking waste.
You find him asleep there. Exhaustion took over when he leaned back against your bedframe, yet his body doesn’t seem at rest. Where can peace be found if not in sleep?
You sit next to him, now clad in soft pajamas and he’s already awakened by the smell of your shampoo before you call out to him.
“Logan?”
He blinks once, twice.
Even his eyes are not working properly these days. Always a little out of focus.
“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”
He gives a half-grunt and moves to get up, but a brave hand on his thigh stops him. He surrenders to your insistence and the warmth of your fluffy carpet under him.
“I’m fine, just tired.”
“Of course, you are. You never sleep.”
He doesn’t answer.
“You can take my bed if the problem is the mattress.”
You watch him pinch his nose. Can’t be sure if he’s annoyed at you or himself.
“It’s not the fucking mattress, sweetheart, alright? I’m rotting from the inside out, no bed on earth can change that.”
You don’t quite know what to say to that.
It’s no secret to any of you that Logan has been struggling as of lately. He won’t speak of it, won’t ask for help. He's Atlas and the world is slipping.
“Did you need something?”
He doesn’t look you in the eye anymore, you notice.
“I was just checking up on you with how much time you spend in the shower. What do you even do in there?”
“I like it. It makes me feel normal.”
Logan merely hums in response. His hand reaches for the flask inside his pocket in a well-practiced motion.
“Is that whiskey?”
Of course it is.
You can make out his little smirk in the dim lighting. The odd little bit of humanity left in him that you always seem to attract. The tenderness they’ve tried time after time to rid him of.
“Can I have some?”
He watches you drink and lick your lips clean; admires your little frown at the taste. Decades alive and you’ll never grow used to it.
Your hands brush as you hand it back—an intentional act on your part—and he jumps. A shiver runs through him when it turns into a caress. Your hands are so much softer, so much gentler. A feather touch on his knuckles where the pus has begun to gather.
He should just fucking die.
“You should cut down on your hours. I can get a job, something part-time.”
His laugh is angry. It’s cruel and unnecessary.
He doesn’t mean to make you feel bad, but what does it matter?
“No need, bub. No point in it either.”
“You can’t go on like this, you know that.”
He drinks and drinks until the flask is almost empty.
“You should go somewhere else entirely; somewhere they won’t find you easily. Maybe your trouble will be worth something there.”
Maybe you’ll even have a life there.
“Is that what you think? That I’m here out of necessity?”
Logan chuckles, but there’s no humor in it.
“That’s why we’re all here, doll, but you- it could work. You should leave.”
Leave him. Never look back.
“It won’t. I won’t – I can’t.”
Something invisible tugs at his heart. Your glassy eyes, your loyalty.
Argos waited for Ulysses till death. For which master do you endure?
“For what? For whom, Charles? He’s barely even himself anymore, he doesn’t recognize you half the time. What’s the point?”
“So, he’s right, you’re just waiting for him to die.”
He falls silent again. The words cut deep.
“What about you, Logan?”
“What about me?”
“I should just leave you behind?”
It can’t be the heat, it has to be the alcohol, but the air is getting thicker in here.
He practically tears his suit jacket off. He’s usually nicer than this, always respectful of your efforts. The neat way you iron his shirts. Your ways of taking care of him.
The booze has started to get to him lately, as every other thing. He feels it now as it slurs his mind and speech. A shadow of his former self in every way.
It makes it even harder to look at you.
“I’m dead fucking weight. If you knew what’s right for you, you’d run and never look back at this shithole… you certainly don’t need me either.”
“I don’t stay because I need you, Logan. I stay because I love you.”
It’s hard to breathe. There’s unease in the way he holds your gaze and he almost looks small for a second. It doesn’t last. He’s quickly an animal again, now wounded and hurting. His growl is sign enough.
“Don’t say that.”
“Logan-”
You reach for his hand, but he doesn’t let you. He tries to stand up. His legs don’t listen.
What a pathetic excuse of a man he’s become.
You reach for him again when he lands back on your floor.
His voice is small and quiet, “Shit, sweetheart. You can’t fucking say that to me.”
He’s practically shaking in anger. Or sadness. Whatever this is, it’s overwhelming.
It’s easy to give up and lean into you; face landing on the softness of your middle.
“You can’t-you can’t say that to me.”
He can hear your heartbeat so clearly, it’s almost deafening when he presses his ear to your stomach. Everything hurts.
“I love you.”
You see his eyes close gently.
He wants to lose all his other senses, if only for this moment, if only to focus solely on the softness of your skin. The gentleness of your fingers when they gather in his hair.
“It’s okay, Logan.”
He only looks up when you take his face in your hands. You can feel his breath on you. All you can do is look at each other. His hand comes up to your shirt and lifts it, just enough for his lips to touch there – just this once.
He only needs this one thing and he’ll be good for the rest of his pitiful, miserable life.
“I have things I need to do.”
You only nod.
You offer your hand, but he doesn’t take it, drags himself upwards instead. The moment of weakness has passed.
“I’m going out. You should get some rest, don’t forget to lock the door.”
There is no point in arguing or asking where he’s going. He needs to be away from you.
“I won’t.”
He nods back at you, but avoids your eyes as he leaves. He’ll sleep in the car tonight.
Just this one little thing might be enough.
#logan howlett x reader#logan x reader#wolverine x reader#logan howlett#james logan howlett#old man logan#xmen x reader#the worst logan x reader#deadpool and wolverine#logan 2017#the worst wolverine
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[ slip of the tongue ] n. hischier
paring : Nico Hischier x fem!reader
summary : after a Devils win, Nico gets interviewed in the locker room after scoring his first NHL hatty. he slips up in front of the cameras and mentions his girlfriend for the first time. it doesn't stop her from showing Nico how proud she is of him though ...
warning(s) : smut ! p in v protected sex, oral (m receiving), pet names during sex, language throughout. possibly wrongly translated german (i'm learning)
author’s note : this plot has been in my head for a while so here i am. pls just indulge me w this bc i was having a moment while writing it
18+ below the cut ! MINORS DNI
༺═──────────────═༻
(Y/N) swears she won't have a voice come the morning.
As soon as the puck went into the net and the goal horn went off for the third time, she's been screaming in the suite with the other Devils wives and girlfriends. Her boyfriend just scored his first NHL hat trick and she couldn't be prouder of him. They're now up 5-2 on the Sabres with less than a minute left in the game.
Jack and Dawson have a goal each along with Nico's three goals. It's a four-point night for her captain boyfriend since he got an assist on Jack's power play goal. She remains standing until the final horn that signals the game is over. The Rock is buzzing as the Devils give Vitek some goalie hugs.
She records when Nico is announced as the first star of the game for his four-point night. The crowd cheers as loud as they did when Nico scored the hat trick. Her lips hurt from smiling for nearly ten minutes straight.
As soon as Nico skates off the ice, (Y/N) makes her way down to the players' lounge room that the wives and girlfriends usually hang out in before and after the game. She hangs out with Vitek and Erik's wives as she waits for the players to come in after they've changed and showered.
Notifications start coming through about a half hour after going to the players' lounge. A lot of notifications. New followers, lots of likes and comments on Instagram. A lot of mentions on Twitter. She has no idea what's going on.
(Y/N) reads one tweet that's in her mentions that has a clip attached to it.
vina @/hischiers i knew there were rumors but nico hard launching his relationship after the game was not something i expected to happen today of all days
She clicks on the clip of Nico in his postgame interview and watches it.
Amanda Stein asks off camera, "Did you have any friends or family present for the game today to witness your first NHL hat trick?"
Nico doesn't hesitate to reply, "My girlfriend came to her first Devils home game today." He smiles and bites his bottom lip. "Yeah, she, uh, this game was really special for me because she's here and she got to witness my first hat trick in person." He blushes and doesn't stop smiling in the clip.
"Oh my God," (Y/N) gasps as the clip restarts.
They never talked about going public with their relationship. They've been dating for about seven months. Nico is one of hockey's most popular players, and (Y/N) has seen how loved he is among the fans. She's basically a no one from Newark dating the captain of a hockey team in the NHL.
The players begin to make their way into the lounge area. They make their way to their wife or girlfriend or really whoever they invited to the game. Her eyes are on the door as she waits for Nico to come in.
Jack and Luke walk into the room with Nico five minutes after the rest of the team does. They're deep in conversation but she can't help but run over to her boyfriend and basically jump into his arms.
Both Hughes boys both laugh as Nico catches her and she wraps herself around him completely. He wraps his arms around her torso so she doesn't fall.
"Congratulations, baby," she says against his hair. It's still damp so he recently showered. "I'm so proud of you."
"Guess you're my good luck charm," he laughs in reply. (Y/N) pulls back so she can see his face and he looks genuinely happy. "I play a lot better when you're in attendance."
She shakes her head and smiles. "I think that's bullshit," she tells him. "There's a reason you're one of the league's best players since you came back from your injury. It's not because of me."
"I think you should come to more games anyway," Nico says. "Clearly I like when you come to games."
(Y/N) laughs and rests her hands where Nico's shoulders meet his neck. "I'll come to games whenever you want," she replies. "You like to show off when I come."
He smiles and nods. "I gotta show off for my girlfriend," he retorts. "Especially when she looks so good in my jersey."
"Flatterer," she laughs before she leans down and captures his lips in a soft kiss. Nico laughs into the next kiss before she pulls back and looks at him. "By the way, did you know you told the entire league and it's fans that you have a girlfriend during your postgame interview?"
"You saw?"
"It's all over social media, Nico. People are saying you hard launched our relationship."
She lets her legs drop and Nico lowers her to the ground. "There were rumors anyway," he replies. "It was bound to come out. Did it bother you? It just kind of came out when I was asked and I wasn't really thinking about the fact that we never talked about it."
"I just would've liked a little heads up," she tells him with a smile on her face. "Are you ready to go?"
He nods and begins to make the rounds to say goodbye to the Devils. She never lets go of his hand as he says goodbye to his teammates. It's his job as captain to tell the team how good they did so he doesn't forget about that. He congratulates Jack and Dawson on their goals before they finally head to the parking lot.
Nico drove them to the Prudential Center in his car so she sits in the passenger seat of the car so Nico can drive them to whoever's place is closest. Which is Nico's apartment.
As they leave the parking lot, Nico stops and says hi to some fans. Pictures are taken where (Y/N) is definitely in the background but at this point, she doesn't care. Nico already told the entire world that he had a girlfriend that was at the game.
He signs some jerseys and pucks, takes some pictures, and gets more than a few congratulations on his hat trick before Nico finally pulls out of the parking lot. He looks over at (Y/N), who gives him a small smile as they stop at a red light.
"You played really well tonight," she tells him. "I'm not just saying that because you had a four-point night but you played really well. I'm so proud of you for getting your first hat trick tonight. I can't believe that I was able to watch it happen in person."
Nico laughs and says, "I told you that you're my good luck charm. The first game you come to after we start dating and I score my first NHL hat trick. It's not a coincidence."
She shakes her head with a smile on her face and looks out the window until they get to Nico's. She plays with her thumbs under the sleeves of her too big jersey that Nico gave to her a few weeks ago.
Fifteen minutes after leaving the arena, Nico pulls into his apartment building parking lot and parks in his usual spot. Her car is parked next to his. They get out and begin the trip up to the top floor of the building where Nico lives.
The building is ten stories tall so it takes a minute for the elevator to get up to the tenth floor from the first floor. Their fingers are laced together the entire time.
(Y/N) follows close behind as Nico unlocks the front door to his penthouse apartment. She wraps her arms around his torso as he unlocks the door and presses her front to his back. "You can't wait until we get inside?" Nico asks as the stupid door finally unlocks.
"Nope," she replies, popping the "p". "I wanna show you how proud of you I am."
He laughs before he pushes the door open. (Y/N) stumbles inside after her boyfriend. She closes the door behind her and Nico presses her against it with his hands on her waist. She stares up at him like she’s challenging him to do something.
Nico looks her up and down. “I wasn’t lying earlier when I said you looked good in my jersey,” he tells her. His voice is deeper and accent thicker than it normally is. “I love seeing my name and number on your back. Knowing you’re mine. It’s so hot. You're so beautiful.”
“Do something about it.” Her voice almost comes out as a whisper. She is absolutely challenging him at this point.
He leans down and captures her lips in a searing kiss. Her heart leaps in her chest when their lips touch. Her back hits the door with the force of the kiss and her fingers grasp at the collar of the jacket Nico is wearing. (Y/N) pulls him as close to her as she can get him.
He presses himself completely against her and slots a thigh between her legs. She has to resist the urge to grind up against his thigh to give herself some relief from the pressure that's building between her legs.
"Off," she mumbles as she pushes Nico's jacket off his shoulders. He helps her out and shrugs the fabric off. He kicks it to the side when it hits the floor and grabs her by the waist.
She pushes her waist off the door and they stumble toward the master bedroom where Nico sleeps. Their shoes are kicked off by the door and Nico's jacket is abandoned on the floor. He loses his tie in the living room and his button-up is lost in the hallway.
When Nico falls onto his back on the mattress, all he's wearing is his suit pants. Even they're unbuttoned and the belt is on the floor. (Y/N) looks down at her boyfriend on the bed and gnaws on her bottom lip.
Sometimes she doesn't know how she got so lucky. She fell in love with the most beautiful and loyal guy. He's captain of a NHL team but still manages to find time to see her whenever he can. He's a talented hockey player that fell in love with her.
She can't believe this is her life. Being able to fall in love with Nico has been the best thing that's ever happened to her. Being able to be loved by Nico is an honor.
"You okay?" Nico asks as he sits up. His hands run up and down the back of her thighs. "You look deep in thought."
"Just thinking," she tells him as she crawls onto his lap. She straddles his waist. "I don't know how I got so lucky to love and be loved by you. You could've fallen in love with anyone but you fell in love with me."
Nico smiles up at her and wraps his arms around her waist. "I fell in love with you because you are the most incredible and beautiful woman I have ever known," he replies. "You're so supportive of me despite my crazy schedule. I don't know how I got so lucky."
Her face gets hot as she smiles. "I'm proud of you, Nico," she says. "I am so happy that I get to see you grow as a person and a player." She leans down and presses a quick kiss to his lips. "Gonna show you how proud of you I am."
She slides down to her knees on the floor at the foot of the bed. Her fingers work on unzipping his pants. She pulls Nico's pants and boxers off in one pull. His hard dick pops out of its prison and stands against Nico's stomach. (Y/N) throws them to the floor and kisses up the inside of his leg from his knee.
After placing a soft kiss to his hip bone, she takes him in her hand and gives him a few slow pumps. Nico grabs a pillow and uses it to prop his head up so he can see her without straining his neck. She smiles up at him before she takes him in her mouth.
"Oh, fuck me," Nico breathes out as (Y/N) moves her head up and down on him. "That mouth of yours feels so good, liebling."
(Y/N) loves it when Nico uses German nicknames on her, especially when they're in bed. They sound ten times hotter when her mouth is on him or when he's inside of her. There have been times when (Y/N) has been in control and Nico has been reduced to speaking his native language.
She'll never get enough of it.
One of her hands makes up for what can't fit in her mouth while the under snakes into the leggings she's wearing under the jersey. Her own fingers run through her folds and work her toward her orgasm. She lets out an occasional hum, which drives Nico crazy. She knows it drives Nico crazy by the way he squirms under her touch every time she does it.
Then she does the one thing she knows gets Nico to come almost as soon as she does it. She hollows out her cheeks and sucks before she swirls her tongue around the fire red tip.
"(Y/N), baby," Nico pants. "Gonna come in about two seconds if you keep doing that."
With a pop, she pulls off his leaking dick. She uses her tongue to get a bead of precum that was on the corner of her mouth. "We wouldn't want that to happen so soon now would we?" she asks as she stands up.
Nico's eyes widen as she begins to undress. The leggings come off first. She reaches down to pull the jersey over her head and Nico sits up quickly. "Uh uh," he says. "Jersey stays on."
"If you come on it, you better get me a new one," she tells him as he slides back on the bed. "I'm not walking into games wearing a jersey you came on." He laughs as he reaches into his bedside drawer and pulls out a foil package.
She finishes getting undressed but leaves the jersey on. Nico slides the rubber contents of the packages onto himself as (Y/N) straddles his thighs. He sits back against the pillow and headboard. She leans down and captures Nico's swollen lips in a tender kiss. He matches her pace and slowly kisses her back. He puts a hand on the back of her neck. His fingers curl into her hair.
All of her emotions are poured into this kiss. Her hands are on his jaw so he can't go anywhere. Not that he could go anywhere since she is sitting on his lap.
(Y/N) begins to move her hips slowly. She hums as Nico's dick slides through her folds and against her clit. A soft moan falls from her lips into the kisses she exchanges with Nico.
One of her hands leaves Nico's jaw and she positions him at her entrance. She presses a long kiss to his lips and leaves them connected as she slowly sinks down onto him. A whimper comes from her as the familiar pressure fills her. Nico takes the opportunity to lick into her mouth before he pulls back to look at her.
"You feel so good, schatzi," Nico tells her. "So good for me. You take me so well, you know that?" She replies with a soft hum as he completely fills her.
She allows herself a moment to adjust before she begins to roll her hips. Nico's hands fly to her thighs before sliding under the jersey to her waist. "Fuck, Nico," she breathes out as he moves in and out of her while she rolls her hips. Her hands are on his torso to keep her balance.
Slowly, she begins to pick up her pace. Moans fall from her lips the faster she moves.
One of the best things about being with Nico is how intimate these moments are. It feels amazing to be physically connected to him like they are one person. She wouldn't trade this for the world.
They fit together like two puzzle pieces. His hands fit perfectly on her waist. Their lips mold together every time they touch. The way his nose fits perfectly above hers when their foreheads touch is her favorite thing. She molds against his body every time they lay in bed together.
It's like they were made for each other.
"(Y/N), liebling," Nico breathes out. His eyes are on her as she rides him. "Ich liebe dich so sehr."
This is what she means. It's like he's forgotten how to speak English when they're in bed together. She loves it.
"I love you too," she pants because she's slowly been learning simple phrases and knows what Nico said. He tells her he loves her all the time in German. "I love you so much. I'm so proud of you. Fuck. You're amazing."
One of Nico's hands slide to the back of her neck and he pulls her down so their foreheads rest against each other. Her nose brushes his every time she moves. Her eyes close and Nico's thumbs brush her cheeks. "Open your eyes, baby," Nico tells her. "I want to see them. Please."
Her eyes open back up and meet Nico's big brown eyes. He smiles and she leans down to kiss him. She breathes hard into the kisses that are exchanged between them.
Nico takes advantage of the distraction and rolls them over so he's hovering over her. She smiles up at him until he begins to thrust hard and deep inside of her. A pornographic moan passes her lips and she arches her back to get closer to Nico.
He reaches between them and his fingers find her sensitive clit. She gasps when he touches the bud then whines when he begins to rub her closer to her pending orgasm. "Holy fuck, Nico," she cries out. "Keep going. Fuck."
Nico throws her legs over his shoulder so he can get a new angle and move even deeper into her. She has to bite her lip to keep from screaming his name as he begins to slam into her g-spot over and over again.
"Let me hear you, liebling," Nico says. "Don't hold back."
His pace quickens and she has to grab on to something. She chooses his hair when her hands slide up into his locks and her fingers curl. "I'm gonna come, Nico," she warns him. "Fuck, I'm close."
He keeps the same pace and uses his fingers to bring her over the edge. She comes so hard she sees stars. Her vision goes almost white and Nico's name passes her lips along with a string of curses. Her legs shake as they hang on his shoulders and she cries out as she has one of the most intense climaxes of her life.
Only Nico could ever get her to come like that. No one has ever made her come like that. No one besides Nico will ever get her to come like that.
There's a weight on her chest as she comes to and she realizes that Nico is lying on her chest. They're both panting messes as Nico gets off of her after resting for who knows how long. He ties off the used condom and tosses it into the trash can by the bed.
(Y/N) pulls off the jersey and takes off the bra she's wearing because she's sweating before she crawls under the blankets to cover her naked and spent body. Nico joins her and she rests her chin on his chest. Her eyes are on his the whole time. She traces little shapes on his belly.
"I think I got a little carried away," Nico admits. "I blame the jersey."
She laughs and shakes her head. "Good to know you have a thing for me wearing your jersey," she replies. "I'll have to remember that when you're having a bad day or you have a rough game."
Nico smiles and brushes a piece of hair out of her eyes. "I really do love you a lot," he tells her. "Thank you for coming to the game tonight. It meant a lot to me that you were there to watch me score my first hat trick."
"Thank you for inviting me," she says. "I had a lot of fun watching you score your first hat trick. It was incredible."
He leans down and presses a soft kiss to her lips.
Their night is nowhere close to being over. Nico has a day off so she is going to make sure she takes care of him and gives him whatever he wants for the rest of the night. All because of that hat trick.
༺═──────────────═༻
MASTERLIST
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#nhl imagines#nhl imagine#nhl fanfiction#nhl fic#nhl oneshot#nhl fluff#nhl smut#hockey imagines#hockey imagine#hockey fanfiction#hockey fic#hockey oneshot#hockey fluff#hockey smut#nico hischier#nico hischier fluff#nico hischier smut#nico hischer x reader
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PERFECT, q. hughes
word count | 0.5k
pairings | quinn hughes x plus size!reader
summary | quinn realizes his girlfriend doesn't see herself the way he sees her.
warnings | not proofread. no use of “y/n”. slightly suggestive content. lowercase intended. this is a work of fiction, i am by no means saying this is how they act in real life.
a/n | i’m sorry i havent posted anything, i have had no time or motivation to write :/// but i was finally able to sit down and write this. it is not personally my favorite thing i’ve written but i need to post something. anywayyy enjoy!!
quinn hughes was obsessed with his girlfriend. every little thing from her perfections to her flaws; she was perfect in his eyes. however, what she saw in the mirror was the farthest thing from perfect. although she was insecure, she never voiced them in fear someone would agree. so she stayed silent, smiling through it all.
quinn had come to her a few days prior about finally hard launching their relationship, something she was hesitant about. however, one look at his excited eyes made her cave. they decided that they would take some cute pictures during their picnic date they had planned out, deciding to post them later that night.
the two watched as the post quickly blew up, positive comments rolling in, the hateful ones not far behind. she did her best to ignore them, placing her phone on do not disturb. it was when quinn finally fell asleep that she began to read them.
they varied from simple jealous comments about quinn having a girlfriend, to the ones that pointed out every stretch mark, every scar, every flaw. she sat there, reading each hateful comment and DM, tears streaming down her face silently. she hadn’t realized quinn had woken until she felt him shift, a confused look on his face. she moved quickly to wipe her tears but it was no use, he had already seen them. “hey, what's wrong?” he moved to sit up, his hand settling on her cheek, moving her head slightly to look at him.
“nothing. it's nothing.” quinn gave her a pointed look, a sigh escaping from her lips. “‘m just lookin’ at the comments on the post, ‘s all.” quinn gently took the phone out of her hands, his eyes squinting at the bright screen.
“you know these aren’t true, right?” quinn said after a moment of reading them. she couldn’t even look at him. “you are the most beautiful girl i think i’ve ever laid my eyes on.” she rolled her eyes at him, a smile tugging at her lips. “also, jealousy makes a person ugly, so already you are more beautiful than them.” she giggled at that, snuggling into quinn as he rested his arm around her shoulder. “plus, i think the only person’s opinion that should matter is me. well, and you i guess.” quinn smiled down at her, wiping the stray tear.
“i love you, quinny; but you know, they aren’t exactly wrong.” she pointed out, still doubting him slightly. quinn scoffed at that:
“okay, you’re right to having an opinion about yourself has been revoked!” she laughed at that, a smile finally settling on her face. quinn maneuvered them so he was looking down over her. “i guess i’m just gonna have to show you every perfect thing about you then.” she looked at him, eyebrows furrowed as he started with her face.
“well, i’ll start with your dimples,” he kissed both of her cheeks before moving on, “and your lips.” yet another kiss. “and your moans.” he moved down to her neck, sucking at the skin to entice a moan. he looked up with a smile before gradually getting lower down her body, kissing every little thing he loved about her. once he finished, he settled in beside her, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead as he did so.
“i love you so much, and i just want you to remember that even when you feel like you can’t love yourself, i’ll still love you.”
#angelicsoka#nhl imagine#quinn hughes#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes x you#quinn hughes x y/n#hockey imagine#hockey fic#nhl fic
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☼ worth the risk ; walking on sunshine
➪ summary: luke wants to ice skate with phi for christmas, but she's nervous about getting an injury
➪ warnings: none... i think !
➪ word count: 0.7k
➪ cupid's notes: no notes! simply enjoy :)
© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here
“Lu, I’m not so sure about this.”
“C’mon, sunshine. This has been on my bucket list since I found out I was getting called up.”
“Skating with me? Baby we’ve skated together before.” Ophelia looked down at Luke, who was kneeling in front of her, tying skates onto her feet.
“Not just skating, you idiot. Skating here, in front of the Tree.”
Ophelia’s gaze wandered over to where the Rockefeller Tree sat, in all 74 feet of its glory. Her eyes seemed to focus on every single light it was adorning before she looked back down at her boyfriend, “M’just nervous. You know what coach would say if she found out.”
“Well, it’s a good thing she won’t.” He patted her thigh, standing up and holding his hands out for her. She slid her hands into his, using them as she got up from the bench, leaning her head against his chest.
He wrapped his arms around her, one hand playing with her hair and the other across the small of her back. He kissed her temple, murmuring against her hair, “I would never let you fall, you know that.”
She blushed and nodded, grateful for the cold that surrounded them which already made her cheeks pinkier than normal. She used Luke’s hand as a guide as they stepped onto the ice, mind racing with thoughts about how horrible this idea was. Coach would surely kill her if she found out that she got injured going ice skating, especially if she knew that she had thought it was a bad idea and did it anyway.
The thought scared her more than she liked to admit, tightening her grip on his hand even as she fell into the rhythm of skating. Luke looked at her, pride shining in his eyes as she was skating on her own, barely needing him as support.
They skated around the outside of the rink, Luke playfully shoving her in the slightest bit, sending shockwaves of fear through her before she shoved him back, which only resulted in him laughing.
“You know, you’d be a shit hockey player.”
“And you’d be a shit softball player, I think we can call this argument even.”
He grinned, simply spinning her into his arms as they came to stop just short of the exit. Ophelia’s cheeks were still just as flushed as they were before, pink dusting her cheeks and her nose turning red. He wrapped his hand around both of hers, letting them rest between their chests.
She took a deep breath, staring up at him, unable to look away. This would mark their first Christmas as a couple. Sure they had spent plenty of Christmases together since they first met, but this was different, of course it was. She wasn’t sure what he had in store for the two of them when she first flew out to New Jersey, but it certainly wasn’t this.
Luke leaned in, kissing her softly, as they were passed by by a multitude of people who were for sure giving them looks for just stopping in the way of their paths, but neither of them could find it in them to care. She thought this was worth the risk of her injury, if it meant staying like this with him for a little while longer.
When Ophelia pulled away, her forehead rested against his, a shy grin making its way onto her face as she noticed the tips of Luke’s ears turning pink from the cold. Luke smiled back at her, pulling her along to the exit and sitting her down on the bench, repeating his actions that he did before; bending down and untying her skates, placing them beside her as he did the same with his own.
“What’s next on your itinerary, Luke Warren Hughes.”
She giggled at his groan, walking down the street as she cuddled closely into his side. He gave her a soft glare, “What’s with the middle name?”
“Nothing, just like to annoy you.”
“Well in that case, I guess you won’t be getting any hot chocolate.”
“What-” She was quick to pout at his word, protesting softly, “Noooo. I want hot chocolate.”
“Gotta make it up to me sunshine,” he tapped his cheek, looking down at her expectantly.
“Ass.” She muttered, but leaned up to kiss his cheek anyway.
꒰ WALKING ON SUNSHINE TAGLIST ꒱
@winterbarnesblog @kei943 @digitalhughes-jpg @rowdyluv @bunbunbl0gs @hughesfilm @fantillisgirl
WALKING ON SUNSHINE MASTERLIST ; AU'S ; 12 DAYS OF AU'S
TAGLIST ; NHL MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION
#˚ ༘♡〚 cupids writing 〛ₓ。#˚ ◌༘*〚 cupid's 12 day's of au's 〛#☼ walking on sunshine au !#☼ luke + ophelia !#luke hughes#lh43#luke hughes x oc
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Arrogant | Jack Hughes
Pairing; Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader
Warning(s); Suggestive (kissing), cursing, Jack slander (?), edited only once.
Summary; Reader can't stand Jack Hughes, but the sex is too good to throw away.
Word Count; 1.5k
Author’s note; Just a little blurb to dip my feet into the water of writing for Jack Hughes, also a little different than how I normally write. Will write a part two if requested, otherwise, I hope you enjoyed! As per usual, any thoughts + reblogs are appreciated (: -Honey
Jack Hughes was the absolute worst, and if you had any shred of self-respect left, you’d stop answering his texts at two in the morning, let alone opening the door when you knew it was him knocking. Every time you saw his name flash on your screen, you told yourself it would be the last time. The last time you’d get tangled up in whatever this was, the last time you’d let him worm his way into your night with that smug smirk of his. But then your phone would light up again, that familiar ding piercing the quiet of your room, and against your better judgment, you’d find yourself reaching for it.
You couldn’t stand him, honestly. The way he walked around like he was the king of New Jersey, all swagger and arrogance, thinking that just because he was good at hockey, he was somehow above everyone else. He had that cocky, self-assured grin that made you want to roll your eyes every time you saw it, and the way he carried himself—like the world owed him something—was infuriating.
Jack Hughes was infuriating. Plain and simple. He acted like the universe revolved around him, as if the rest of the world was just background noise, something to fill the gaps between his big moments on the ice. He was loud, brash, and so fucking egotistical that sometimes you wondered how his head even fit through the door. He was stupid, in that careless, reckless way that only someone who’s gotten everything they’ve ever wanted can be.
And yet...
Here you are, again.
Your phone had buzzed just twenty minutes ago, lighting up your dark room with a text you should’ve ignored. But you didn’t. You never did. Because for all the ways Jack Hughes made you want to tear your hair out, there was one undeniable fact that kept pulling you back in: the sex.
Goddamn it, the sex.
You’d never tell him. Never give him the satisfaction of knowing just how good he was at it. Jack’s ego was already the size of an entire hockey rink, and the last thing you wanted was to inflate it even more. So when he asked if you came, you lied sometimes, just to keep him guessing. You’d mumble something noncommittal, roll your eyes at his smug grin, and make him work harder for it the next time.
But deep down, you knew the truth. No one had ever made you cum the way Jack did. Unfortunately.
And that was the problem, wasn’t it?
It wasn’t just that the sex was good—it was phenomenal. It was earth-shattering, toe-curling, makes-you-forget-your-own-name kind of good. The kind of sex that had your heart pounding in your chest long after he’d left, the echo of his touch still lingering on your skin. Jack had a way of knowing exactly what you needed, exactly how to pull you apart piece by piece until you were a trembling mess beneath him. It was maddening. And you hated how much you loved it.
And so, here you were again—lying in bed, wide awake, staring at your phone as you waited for the inevitable knock at your door.
It always played out the same way. You’d hear the faint sound of his car pulling up, the slam of the door as he got out, and then, a minute later, the knock. Three sharp knocks that sent your heart racing, even as you cursed yourself for letting him in again. You told yourself you wouldn’t open it this time. That you’d let him stand out there, alone in the cold, and go back to bed with your dignity intact.
But when the knock finally came, you found yourself throwing the blankets off and padding toward the door in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and underwear. Your hand hovered over the doorknob for a split second, your conscience screaming at you to turn around, to lock it, to put an end to this ridiculous cycle. But then, almost on autopilot, you twisted the knob and pulled the door open, your heart pounding in your chest as Jack Hughes stood there, looking like sin incarnate.
He leaned casually against the doorframe, that infuriating smirk already tugging at the corner of his lips. His hair was a mess, like he’d run his hands through it a dozen times on the way over, and his blue eyes sparkled with that familiar mix of arrogance and mischief. He wore a hoodie, the hood pulled low over his brow, and sweats that hung low on his hips, casual but still somehow infuriatingly sexy.
"You gonna let me in, or are you just gonna stare at me?" Jack’s voice was smooth, dripping with that cocky charm that made your stomach twist, and you hated how easily he could get under your skin. How effortlessly he made you feel both irritated and… excited all at once.
You didn’t answer him. You just stepped aside, letting him brush past you as you closed the door behind him, the soft click of the lock sealing your fate for the night. The scent of his cologne—something woodsy, with just a hint of spice—hit you as he walked past, and you hated the way it made your head spin, the way it made your pulse quicken in anticipation.
As soon as the door clicked shut, you felt his hands on you, rough and impatient, like he couldn’t wait another second to have you. He spun you around and backed you up against the door, his mouth already on yours before you could say a word. His kiss was all heat and urgency, his lips rough against yours as he pressed his body into you. There was nothing gentle about it—nothing soft or sweet. Jack didn’t kiss like a man who wanted to take his time. He kissed like he had something to prove, like he needed to remind you why you kept letting him in.
And maybe you did need the reminder. Because the second his hands slid down to your waist, gripping you with just the right amount of pressure, all the reasons you’d been telling yourself to say no melted away. His touch was electric, sending a jolt of heat straight through your body, and you gasped into his mouth, your hands instinctively gripping his hoodie, pulling him closer.
"You couldn’t wait, could you?" Jack’s voice was low, teasing, as he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes flashing with amusement. "Always acting like you hate me, but here you are, letting me in again."
You glared at him, your breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts as his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, his knuckles brushing against your bare skin underneath. "You’re such an asshole," you hissed, even though your body was already betraying you, arching into his touch.
He grinned, his teeth catching the light as he leaned down to kiss your neck, his lips dragging across your skin in a way that made you want to punch him and pull him closer all at once. "Yeah, but you love it," he whispered against your throat, his breath hot against your skin. "You love how much of an asshole I am."
You hated him. You hated how right he was. How he could get under your skin with a few words, a few touches, and make you forget every reason you had for not wanting him. But more than that, you hated how much you wanted him.
You hated the way your body responded to his touch, the way your skin burned under his hands, the way your breath hitched when his fingers dipped lower, just brushing the waistband of your panties. You hated that, even though you knew better, you couldn’t resist him. Not when he was here, pressed against you, his lips on your skin, his hands on your body.
"Shut up," you murmured, your voice breathless as you pulled him closer, your fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie.
Jack chuckled against your neck, his hand slipping under your shirt, his fingers trailing up your side, sending shivers across your skin. "Make me," he whispered, and you could hear the smirk in his voice, could feel the challenge in his words.
And that’s the thing about Jack Hughes. You did want to shut him up. You wanted to wipe that smirk off his face, to make him forget every cocky thing he’s ever said. But the problem was, every time you tried, he always ended up winning.
Because as much as you hated him, as much as he made you want to scream in frustration, there was no denying the fire between you. The way he could make your pulse race with just a touch, just a word. The way he could unravel you with a single look. And that was why you kept answering his texts at two in the morning, why you kept opening the door when you should’ve slammed it in his face.
Because Jack Hughes was the absolute worst. But he was also the best damn thing you’d ever had in bed.
And tonight, like every other night, you knew you’d let him prove it to you all over again.
#jack hughes#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes imagines#jack hughes fic#jack hughes fanfiction#jack hughes smut#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes x you
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