#blush vancouver

[qhughes43]

quinn hughes playoff beard 🤭

[barzyhughes]

quinn giggling and kicking his feet at gretzky complimenting him

[rickchung]

Blush x Fairmont Hotel Vancouver x Financial District.

Saintly Wines' pop-up bar.

"Passion Potion": Montis Distilling Cloud 9 gin, St-Germain elderflower liqueur, and lemon.

"Flying Solo": El Tesoro blanco tequila, Saintly rosé sparkling wine, grapefruit, and lemon.

[ibeautyacademy]

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[sweetteainthesummerx]

✰ sweet nothing✰

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

nhl masterlist !

pairing: quinn hughes x writer! reader

warnings: angst and comfort, fluff

song: sweet nothing by taylor swift

summary: 5 times Quinn knew you were the one, and the one time he let you know...

word count: 2.2 k

notes: quinn my sweet boy!! also sweet nothing by taylor swift because her love songs are so superior

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

outside, they're push and shoving, you're in the kitchen humming

quinn pushes open the door to his apartment, exhausted. His face hurts from smiling at fans, and the triple header really, really took it out of him.

he loves his captaincy, really. he loves his boys, the leading, the responsibility. it's hard, though, to live up to all of the jostle and hassle the spotlight brings.

needless to say, the push and shove of stress has taken its toll on him, and all he needs is a hot shower and preferably 8 or more hours of sleep.

through the walkway, he hears a familiar voice, the telltale clatter of pans, a taylor swift song and the aroma of garlic and tomatoes.

you must've used his spare key he gave you.

he smiles despite himself, something warm tugging deep in his stomach.

he calls your name and immediately flushes with how breathy and needy he sounds. the last thing he wants is to scare you away.

"q!" you pop up from behind the counter, wearing nothing but one of his old shirts that drapes long over your slender shoulders and a pair of ratty sweatpants. your hair is pulled back from your make-up void face.

you've never looked more beautiful.

you make your way over while he admires you, and lock your arms around his waist, smiling up at him.

"missed you," you kiss his cheek, and he flushes again. god, why was he like this still?

the two of you have been dating for over than a month now, but he's still so easily flustered by you. maybe it's because you work with words for a living, but you're the sweetest thing he's ever seen (and tasted).

you think it's cute, and you tell him more often than not, reducing him to a puddle of a blushing mess.

he bundles you properly in his arms, kissing you properly.

you're so soft and warm under his fingers, your mouth hot and pliable.

you indulge him for a moment, savouring the time with each other. his hands wander down to your hips, gripping hard like he's afraid you'll be blown away by the wind.

a timer dings, and you pull back. he chases your lips, letting out a whine when you giggle and push gently at his broad chest.

"quinny, stop! i made you lasagna, and I don't want it to burn."

"mm, we'll order take out," he mutters into your neck, breathing in your familiar perfume.

you let out a sound of protest, finally breaking free of his hold. he follows you like a lost puppy as you set the table, plating him an extra large piece.

as he eats, you watches your kind eyes and easy smile with adoration.

the realization jars him, but settles firm in his bones: he wants to come home to you everyday.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

i wrote a poem, you say, "what a mind", this happens all the time

it's the release of your latest book, and quinn watches as you engage with your fans. the biggest indigo in vancouver invited you to come do a meet and greet along with a signing.

you had spent the morning with quinn, his hands stroking through your hair to calm you down. although your other books had success, this one was your proudest piece of work yet.

quinn had been the first person to read it. he was impressed; he knew you were smart and you had a way with words that astounded him, but the whole book was like poetry.

the words flowed easy from you, as easy as breathing.

now, watching you all flushed and a little embarrassed by the attention from the mass of people who showed up, he all but glows with pride.

a young girl, maybe in her early teens, comes up to you with a wide smile and bright, glassy eyes. he can't hear well, because he's tucked near the back of the room to avoid the crowd, but she says something and your face falls.

he's ready to sprint through the crowd to get to you, but you hug the younger girl. she's crying, he realizes. you squeeze her tight, sign her book and send her off with what looks like encouraging words and another hug.

afterwards, while he drives with one hand and the other on your thigh, he asks what happened.

"she told me she's never felt more seen by anyone before. that my book told her it's okay to not know where to be in the world." your eyes feel wet, and he smiles.

god, you're brilliant.

he raises your hand to his mouth and kisses your pulse.

"what a mind," he murmurs, and you laugh softly.

"you tell me that all the time."

"because I mean it, babe."

now he understands when those cheesy movies say "I want you body, mind and soul".

you are undeniably beautiful, gorgeous even. kindness seeps from your very being, and you're mind is bright and soft.

he wants all of you, forever.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

the voices that implore, "you should be doing more"

ellen sees some of the articles and criticisms of her eldest on the internet. quinn has always been the quietest, the most calm and so stoic. but her sweet boy, who worked too hard and did too much was always being told to do more.

so when she called him and he picked up the facetime groggy and hair still damp, she was surprised.

"hey, mom." he answered, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"hi, quinn. sorry, sweetie. i didn't expect you to be asleep. i thought i would check up on you."

"all good." he yawns, and he makes small talk.

she wonders if he's seen all of the speculations about his captaincy on the news and headlines.

he tells her he has, because she asks him straight up. he appreciates the straightforwardness, and he has since he was young.

he tells her that you were there.

"she ran me a bath, with those weird salt things that women love so much-"

"hey! they're very nice." she interrupts, laughing at his antics.

"and she made soup. we ate already and I took a nap. she's out getting groceries, but i'll tell her you said hi, mom."

ellen nods, something tangible and comforting in the air around her. her son is in good hands.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

to you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

you find him in the empty change room. he's sitting on a bench, wet hair messy, head hung. you expected this; your boyfriend was nothing if not responsible and too hard on himself.

after another loss, his grief and frustration was normal.

you kneel before him, taking his face, hot from the shower in your cool hands. his pretty eyes are rimmed red, and he leans into your touch.

"hey, pretty boy. you did good out there, captain."

he shakes his head, fingers trembling as he pulls you closer so he can push his face into your hair, inhaling your smell.

"i failed them. i'm a shit captain, and i can't seem to break this cycle we're in-"

"you are not a shit captain." you say those words firmly, and it almost surprises quinn. normally you were soft-spoken and slow, but you tell him this with urgency.

"i should be taking care of everyone, and everything-"

"but who takes care of you?"

your words break a dam in him, and he buries his head in your shoulder. the position is uncomfortable, but you don't shift or mention his shaking shoulders.

"you are a good leader. a good leader is one who stands with his team, even during the tough times. the boys adore you, and you will break this rut. but it takes time, and work, my love. no one works harder than you."

he sniffs, a hovering breath touches your neck.

"you are so strong, my sweet boy." you cradle his neck, pressing kisses to the side of his face. this sets off another wave of emotions, and he easily tugs you up into his lap.

his wet hair drips onto your (his) jersey, but you don't mind.

"and if you need to be strong for them, you can be soft with me. i'm here for a reason. another set of shoulders to bear your burdens."

"i love you, y'know that?" his voice is scratchy, vulnerable and thick with emotion. although the two of you have exchanged those three words countless of times before this, it feels like more this time.

"i know, quinnie. i love you too."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

jack hauls his older brother onto the curb, setting him there, praying that he doesn't fall flat into the road. luke runs out with quinn's jacket, draping it over his shoulders.

it isn't often that quinn gets drunk, especially this drunk. but the boys night was a chance for all of them to let loose during the off season.

the small dive bar near the lake house was the perfect place to get away.

"dude, he is hammered." luke huffs, tugging at the sleeves of his own hoodie, the chill of the night starting to surround the air.

quinn says something under his breath as he sways, and jack sets him upright again.

"bro, what did you say?"

quinn repeats your name, louder this time, with the request to see you immediately.

the way he says your name, with so much love and awe makes jack almost wish he was in a relationship.

"sure, man. i'll call her to pick you up."

you arrive a mere 10 minutes later, hair wet, wearing one of quinn's canucks sweatshirts and a pair of sleep shorts.

"hey guys," you greet the other hughes boys. Luke gives you a side hug, and you pat jack's arm in thanks as you move to help her boyfriend up.

"babe!" Quinn only realizes then that you're here. jack has to laugh, seeing his brother so far gone because of the 7 tequila shots they took.

"jeez, guys. how much did you drink?" you ask, laughing, and Luke starts to regale you with the tale of jack's bad rendition of lady gaga.

"i missed you." quinn is now standing behind you, arms firmly wrapped around your waist, his cheek pressed against the top of your head. he doesn't say it loud, but contented and quiet.

jack watches as you smooth your hands over his forearms, rolling your eyes in amusement.

"yes, yes, I missed you too, you clingy baby."

"hey! m'not clingy." he protested, his whole body pressed up against every inch of yours.

jack snorts, giving you a sympathetic look, "good luck with that one."

you jokingly flip him off, as you try to maneuver your much larger boyfriend.

"c'mon, hughes." quinn frowns at this.

"I only answer to quinny, my love, sweetie and baby."

"that's your name?" jack asked, only to be met with a dirty look from his brother. luke snickers as you shrug quinn into the passenger seat.

"thanks for watching him." you say as you walk over to the driver's side.

"thanks for coming to get him. did we interrupt anything?"

"nah, except your mom was showing me your guys' baby pictures." you eyes shine with mirth as they groan.

"please tell me she didn't-"

"yep, the bathtub pictures too." you smile, and quinn yells something from with in the car.

"okay, I should probably get the big baby home. you guys don't stay out too late, okay?" you tell them, and they bid you goodbye.

he watches you guys drive off, quinn probably saying something stupid as you laugh.

"y'know, i really hope she's the one." Luke tells him as they head back into the bar.

jack has never, ever seen his brother so happy. he's never seen him smile so willingly for anyone, and clearly, you have him wrapped around your finger.

"yeah, me too, man."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

+ all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

you're wearing your blue light glasses, a tank top and a pair of his plaid boxers as you sit cross-legged in your shared bed, hair loose around your shoulders.

you're working on something new, and quinn studies your features as you concentrate.

without looking up from your laptop, you grin, "stop staring, stalker."

he laughs, "you love it."

you meet his eyes as he crawls next to you. he lets you wipe at his mouth, where he's sure there's still remnants of toothpastes.

"i love you." you offer instead, and he pulls you onto his lap. his fingers inch up your thighs but stop there.

he just wants to feel you, before he has to leave for another roadie.

"i love you." he tells you matter-of-factly, "and i'm going to marry you one day."

"babe, we've only been together a little over 8 months," you protest, but he sees the glow of joy on your cheeks at his words.

"i know," he says confidently, "but i'm going to make you my wife, one day. all i want is you."

you melt at his words, laying your head on his shoulder, "all i want is you, and your sweet nothings."

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[bellgai-beauty-blogs]

If you want to do a lip blush course in Canada, Bellagi beauty is the best choice. We are a certified educational institute by the government of Canada. We are also providing an online lip blush course. Visit our website for more details.

[brainddeadd]

Accidentally calling your boyfriend "husband"

Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

Fluff

Wandering around Vancouver with Quinn, you both decide to duck into a café for something warm while the rain beats down on the ground outside.

He leads you over to the counter, eyes scouring the menu, but you already know what you're getting.

"Hi, could I please get one large hot chocolate for myself and a large cappuccino for my husband?" You don't even realise you've said it, but Quinn does. He turns to you, eyes wide, jaw falling open slightly, before his face softens and a smile creeps onto his features.

"Sure, anything else?" The girl behind the counter questions, her eyes darting back and forth between the two of you.

"Two chocolate eclairs for my wife and I, please." Quinn adds, and it's your turn to look at him wide-eyed. The cashier nods, and Quinn pays, leading you over to the table in the back of the café, his hands taking yours in his as you sit across from him.

"Wife?" You question, voice soft and shy, a blush coating your cheeks in a way that makes Quinn want to die.

"You started it," he mumbles. "Callin me husband as if my heart won't beat out of my chest."

"I didn't.." You trail off as you run through what you'd said at the counter, your blush intensifying as you realise that you did, in fact, call Quinn, your husband. "I'm sorry."

Quinns heart constrcts at how you sound, almost as if you feel guilty, like you've said something you shouldn't.

"What for?" His fingers tangle with yours. "It's going to be true one day."

Eyes darting to his, your jaw goes slack, and he chuckles slightly, fingers gently pressing your chin closed.

"I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you," he shrugs, as if he didn't just make a life changing, world altering declaration. "Besides, my family would kill me if I let you slip away."

[willowsnook]

Bruised Egos, Hidden Feelings

hiya!!! for you're sandwich shop, i have an order for roast beef with vinegar on rye pls??

Quinn hughes x enemy!reader

 I wanted it to be you

Moving to Vancouver was not in your cards for the year, but when an opportunity to move from the collegiate level to professional came along, you couldn’t really turn it down. You had been working at the University of Michigan’s athletics department for the past four years on their corporate partnerships teams, which you really enjoyed. As a former athlete at Michigan, it was a chance to stay involved with your alma mater and do good for the school. 

A couple of months ago your boss had told you that an old colleague of his, who was now the Chief Marketing Officer for the Vancouver Canucks, was looking to bring someone new to their partnership teams. It would be a new title and major pay raise, and your boss insisted you apply. Five rounds of interviews later and here you were. 

You’d found an apartment close to the facility with a great view over the water, and now all that was left to do before your first day was move all your stuff into the apartment. Your best friend Jack told you that he had a friend in Vancouver who would help carry stuff up with you, so you were waiting patiently in the lobby for the mystery man to appear. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you heard a voice swear, and you looked up to see the last person on earth you wanted to run into. 

“He said a friend, not brother,” you groaned as you stared into Quinn Hughes's eyes. He looked equally displeased to see you, so it was nice to know that nothing had changed since the last time you had seen each other. 

The last time was during the summer when Jack had invited you to the lakehouse, and you spent a weekend bickering with Quinn so much that the two of you had to be separated multiple times. You had a rough history with him that went back to your Michigan days when you were both athletes. You found him to be broody and insensitive and he claimed you were entitled and a brat. Truly a match made in heaven. 

“Why are you here?” You demanded and Quinn glared back at you. 

“Jack said he had a friend who needed help, and I owe him a favor,” he shot back, and you huffed. 

“I don’t want your help,” you said firmly. 

“I don’t care,” he snapped and moved outside toward the moving pod that had all your stuff. 

The two of you began working silently, carrying stuff up to your new apartment and not saying a word to each other. You were standing in the pod trying to pull a box of your clothes off the top when you miscalculated, causing the box to fall and come straight at you. Bracing for impact, you shot up your arm to cover your face, but something yanked you out of the way at the last second. Quinn had you tightly against him before the box hit the ground, your clothes spilling out. 

“Careful,” he murmured, and your heart raced at the contact between you. As much as you hated the man, he was exactly your type, at least physically. Dark hair, athlete, sad eyes. Your holy trinity. Blushing, you moved out of his grasp, muttering a thanks as you kneeled to clean up the mess. 

When you were finishing up, Quinn lingered by the door, confused. 

“Why are you even here anyway?” He asked and you looked over at him. 

“What do you mean?” 

“In Vancouver, idiot,” he said, and you rolled his eyes. 

“I took a job with the Canucks,” you mumbled and his eyes widened. 

“Tell me you're joking,” he deadpanned. 

“I wish I were,” you said, snapping back at him. “See you at work asshole.” 

He turned to leave your apartment and slammed the door behind him. 

—------------------------------------

It had been a month since Quinn helped you move in, and you both were executing a flawless strategy of avoiding each other in the facility. In fact you had only even seen him a couple of times so far. You loved your new job, the team was great and you were happy to be a part of a professional organization like this. All of the players you worked with on marketing initiatives seemed to really like you and you imagined it was because you could relate to them in some ways, having competed in soccer at a national level. Your favorite was the Finnish center Aatu, who followed you around like a puppy when free. He was two years younger than you, so you really looked at him like a baby, which annoyed him. 

He was helping you set up a banner welcoming a company renting out the event space, holding the ladder as you climbed up. 

“Raty!” Quinn barked from the doorway. “On the ice.” 

“Coming, just give me a second,” Aatu said back, looking up at you, worried you might fall. 

“Now,” Quinn insisted firmly, and Aatu sighed. 

“I don’t think him being here another second is going to kill you,” you said, glaring down at Quinn from above. 

“I didn’t realize your job description included using players to do your work for you,” he sneered at you and you climbed down the ladder to get closer to him. 

“I didn’t realize yours included being a bitch,” you shot back and you could see the steam radiating off of him. Aatu looked nervously between you before gently nudging Quinn to the door. 

“I’ll see you later y/n,” he called over his shoulder, forcing Quinn to leave with him. 

Word of your altercation spread quickly, and the boys relentlessly teased Quinn about it. 

“She’s got you by the balls man,” Brock joked to him in the locker room after practice. “I wouldn’t mind that, though; she is a hot little thing.” 

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Quinn snapped, and Brock’s lips turned upward, amused. 

“A little touchy about her, are we?” He teased and Quinn shut his eyes, resting his head against his locker. 

“We’ve just known each other for a long time,” he said. “She’s Jack’s best friend so I have to watch out for her or he’ll kill me.” 

“What part of harassing her at work is watching out for her?” Brock said, laughing. 

“She has known how to get under my skin like no one else since day one,” he muttered. 

Quinn was in his last year at Michigan when he first met you. You were a rising star on the soccer team, and frankly, you knew it. You were a ruthless competitor, earning the nickname “the reaper.” You definitely weren’t as humble as some of your teammates, but they didn’t mind, considering that you were the lead scorer in the Big 10. 

Quinn was a quiet leader, while you were a loud one. You argued over anything, gym time for the teams, better travel accommodations, and more perks for your teams. Unfortunately, since neither of you was on the football team, the athletic department didn’t spend as much, which meant you were fighting each other for scraps sometimes. 

He made a few offhand comments about you being a bitch and you responded by tweeting that you couldn’t wait to watch him go undrafted and it was pretty much over after that. 

What irritated him the most was how quickly you and Jack became friends. Jack was his brother and you had corrupted him. Jack inviting you the lakehouse over the summer made him want to throttle his brother. Not only did he not enjoy bitching at you the whole weekend, but the girl he had brought with him also dumped him right when they got back, telling him that he needed to figure out his shit with you. Whatever the fuck that meant. 

—------------------------------------------

“My two favorite people on the planet,” Jack called out cheerfully, pulling you and Quinn into a hug. Luke watched the scene amused, especially as you and Quinn did everything you could not to touch each other. The Devils were in town to play the Canucks and the four of you had decided to get a quick dinner before the game. 

You sat next to Jack but opposite of Quinn at the table and started to fill Jack in on your new life up here. He was excited for you and selfishly happy that you were in the same place as Quinn so he could see you both at once. Quinn chatted easily with Luke about the season and it felt peaceful. 

That only lasted for so long. 

“Are the guys treating you okay?” Jack asked and you nodded. 

“Yeah everyone has been really nice so it’s made my job a lot easier,” you told him. 

“Everyone? Including the captain?” Jack teased and you gave him a look. 

“Of course not,” you told him. “I could file so many harassment claims against him but I don’t because of my love for you Jack.”

Jack laughed and Quinn rolled his eyes. 

“She’s a distraction,” he muttered. 

“I’m trying to do my job,” you countered. 

“I’m sure,” he said sarcastically and the tension between you was increasing by the minute. 

“Some of us have to actually work all day, Quinn. Not all of us are professional athletes,” you shot back. 

“You would know, huh? " he jeered without thinking, and everyone at the table froze. Blood drained from his face as he started to stutter out an apology. 

“I-I didn’t mean it y/n,” he fumbled out, but you were already shoving your chair back to stand up, grabbing your purse at the same time to leave. Jack tried to grab you and Quinn called out your name but you walked swiftly out of the restaurant, trying to keep the tears from falling out of your eyes. 

He was right; you didn’t know what it was like to be a professional athlete. You would have if it weren’t for a season-ending ACL injury that ended your career when you were a senior. You thought you’d be able to bounce back but it didn’t heal right, and the NWSL team that had drafted you was forced to cut you. It had been the lowest point in your career, and Quinn knew that because Jack had pulled you out of the darkness. 

It took years of therapy to stop feeling like your life was over and to stop thinking, “what if?” So for Quinn to throw that in your face was low. 

The table was dead silent after you left. Jack was so angry he didn’t even know what to say. Luke was scrolling through his phone, trying to distract himself from what just occurred. Quinn had his head in his hands, elbows resting on the table. 

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” Jack seethed. 

“I didn’t mean to say it; she just gets me riled up,” he defended weakly. 

“You know what happened. She lost everything,” he bit out, and Quinn finally looked up. “You know what’s so funny?” 

Quinn didn’t reply but Jack went on anyway. 

“I’ve been telling my friends for the past two years about this fantasy about the two of you someday getting over your beef and getting together. You are both so alike and stubborn that I thought you were a perfect match. But I was wrong. I would never wish for her to end up with someone like you.”

Luke winced at Jack’s words, and Quinn just sat back dejected. Throwing cash on the table, Jack left the building, pulling Luke along with him. 

—----------------------------

You were quieter than usual tonight, and it wasn’t going unnoticed. Of course, you “turned it on” when popping in the corporate suites to ensure everyone was having a good time. But the in-betweens were rough. Brock had come over to say hi to you before the game and was concerned when you didn’t entertain his usual flirting like normal. The game went by in a blur, with the Devils trouncing your team, but you were happy to see Jack score. 

The locker room was somber after the game, and Quinn gave the best “we’ll be okay” speech before leaning back into his locker. 

“Saw y/n earlier,” Brock said casually next to him. Quinn just looked over at him with tired eyes, not saying anything. “She looked upset. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” 

“Why would I?” He sighed out and Brock gave him a knowing look. 

“You’re the only one here who can get that kind of emotion out of her. God, the way the two of you light up when the other walks in the room is insufferable.”

“What are you talking about man?” 

“Dude come on, everyone can see that you guys have a thing for each other. You’re just disguising it as hating each other, but I don’t look at people I hate the way you look at her.” 

Quinn didn’t say anything, just quietly contemplating what his teammate said. He did have a point. He was excited every time he saw you, even though he knew it would just end up in a fight. That would also explain his irritation whenever he heard someone talking about you. 

Fuck this was a mess.

You were saying goodbye to your last guests in the front of the arena when Quinn finally found you. He was dressed down in a pair of sweats and a hoodie, and you eyed him warily. 

“Here to rub salt in the wound?” You asked dejectedly, his brows furrowed as he walked closer to you. You two stood a couple of feet apart, eyeing each other but with no energy. 

“I’m sorry y/n,” he said, and a look of surprise flashed across your face. “I hate myself for saying that to you; I wasn’t thinking. I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t play hockey anymore so the fact that you even want to work around sports is admirable.”

You caught him off guard when you stepped closer to him, snaking your arms around his midsection. To be honest, you were so emotionally exhausted that you didn’t even care that you were finding comfort in him right now. After his shock wore off, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you tight to him.

Jack and Luke saw what was happening from a distance and smirked at each other, their anger at their brother fading. Plus, they scored on him, so they were even. 

“Hey guys,” Luke called out as they approached and you turned around. Quinn kept his arm wrapped around your waist, which didn’t go unnoticed by Jack, smirking. 

“We are free for the night,” Jack said. “Movie at Quinn's?” 

You all piled in Quinn’s car and headed towards his condo, which was actually not that far from yours. Looking at the boys all sprawled out in their sweats, you pouted, still in your business casual from the game. 

“I need clothes,” you said, crossing your arms. Quinn looked from Jack to Luke before sighing and getting up. You changed into one of his long-sleeve team shirts, and he handed you a pair of sweats. 

“These are way too big Quinn,” you complained, and he crossed his arms over his chest, looking at you. 

“This isn’t a store,” he replied. 

“Don’t you have boxers I can wear or something?” 

His eyes widened at your request, “You want to wear my boxers?”

“Obviously I don’t want to but I don’t really have a choice unless you prefer I just don’t wear any pants at all.” 

Quinn’s eyes dropped to your bare legs and you shifted, trying to pull down the shirt further. 

“I wouldn’t complain,” he said huskily. You felt your face get hot as his eyes met yours again with an intense gaze. You moved past him, ripping open one of his drawers until you found what you were looking for. 

Jack laughed as the two of you came back out. 

“You look like one of his puck bunnies,” he giggled, and Quinn flipped him off. You frowned. The thought of him hooking up with different girls didn’t sit well with you and you were mad at yourself for being mad. 

Quinn took the end of the couch, and you sat between him and Jack. You laid your head on Jack’s shoulder as you got comfy and could feel Quinn’s gaze burning holes in your skin. 

At some point, you went up to use the bathroom and Jack looked at Quinn smirking. 

“Would you like to share something with the group?” he asked, and Quinn didn’t even look away from the tv. 

“Nope.”

“She’s the reason Kelcie broke up with you, right?”

“Yep.”

“And now you’re realizing that there’s maybe something more than just pure hatred for one another?”

“Yep.” 

Jack cheered, and Luke pulled out his wallet and handed $100 to his brother. 

“You guys bet on this?” Quinn said irritably and his brothers grinned. 

“Of course, when I saw you hugging her, I knew I could get you to admit it tonight. Lukey didn’t believe,” Jack said in a sing-songy voice. 

You walked back out of the bathroom, and all three boys immediately shut up, making you suspicious. Jack gave you an innocent grin as you sat back down, and as you did, he stretched out horizontally, forcing you to sit closer to Quinn. Quinn threw his head back onto the couch, closing his eyes to pray this could stop happening. 

Everyone focused back on the movie, and it wasn’t long before your eyes started to droop, your head falling over to rest against the wall next to you. A soft wall. Quinn shifted his arm behind your shoulders, and you subconsciously snuggled closer to him as his hand rested against your skin. Jack jumped off the couch and snapped a picture before bolting to the bathroom. Luke was trying to keep his laughter contained. 

You woke up later, sprawled on top of Quinn on the couch, his head resting on top of yours. Shifting, you woke him up, and he grumbled at you about what time it was. Jack and Luke must have left already, which wasn’t surprising considering it was 3 a.m. 

“Just stay here the rest of the night,” Quinn said groggily, and you nodded, not wanting to try to call an Uber now. “Let’s move to the bed though.”

“I can sleep on the couch,” you insisted and he waved you off. 

“Just come on,” he said and you followed. His bed was massive, and you sighed as you got under the covers. Quinn pulled you back into his arms and you didn’t protest; it was too comfy. 

“I still hate you,” you mumbled and he chuckled against your neck. 

“I still hate you too, princess,” he said as you drifted off. 

You quietly slipped out of Quinn’s embrace the next morning to leave. You decided that you would keep the clothes he gave you because, frankly, they were comfortable and he still owed you for that comment last night. 

You made it back to your apartment and got in the shower, thinking about last night’s events. You didn’t like Quinn. You couldn’t, right? It felt like yesterday was the first time you’d been hanging out where it didn’t end up in a fight. His body fit perfectly around you when you saw him after the game, and your attraction for him started to bubble up after you had pushed it down for so long. 

This didn’t even cover last night. Basically cuddling on the couch and sleeping in the same bed. And not just two friends sharing a bed together, this was two people who didn’t lose contact the whole night. You really didn’t know what to think. 

—---------------------------------------------------

You were in your office the next day, going through your emails when Brock barged into your door. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked, concerned. He was still dressed in his gear, as practice was going on now. 

“Quinn got hurt and is having a meltdown with the trainers, can you please come down there?”

“Why me?” You said, and Brock shot you an annoyed look. 

“I don’t have the time to discuss this with you right now, so let’s go,” he said, and you got up to follow him. 

Quinn had never been in so much pain. His right knee felt like it was going to snap in half at any moment, and his palms were bloody from how hard he was clenching his fists. He was alone for the moment, having screamed at the trainers just to give him a minute while he tried to settle down. He’d have to apologize later but he saw the looks on their faces and he knew it was bad. 

Nothing had really even happened, he just hit the ice wrong when he was turning and his leg twisted at a weird angle. He knew they were going to send someone in to the room soon. Probably one of his coaches or teammates to try and tell him some shit about everything being okay. 

You pushed open the door slowly, and a look of surprise flashed over Quinn’s face. He looked pitiful on the training bed, his knee already wrapped with ice but you could tell how much pain he was in. 

“Here to make sure I’m not suicidal?” He joked humourlessly, and you snorted. 

“Something like that,” you replied, moving over to him. 

You grabbed a towel and ran some warm water over it before taking his hand from him, cleaning off the blood and then moving it to the other one. 

“I wanted it to be you,” he whispered and you looked at him curiously, his eyes burning into yours. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I didn’t want anyone else to come in here. I saw how the trainers looked at me and I knew you wouldn’t look at me like that,” he confessed and you smiled softly at him. 

“This is rock bottom,” you told him, and he laughed a little before wincing in pain. “I hung on to the fact that the worst part had already happened. All you can do is move forward. No need to get lost overanalyzing it.” 

He gave you an unrecognizable look and the two of you sat silently for a little while, just staring at each other. His phone started ringing and you snorted after seeing Jack’s name flash across the screen. 

“Hey man,” Quinn said into the phone. You started to move back, but Quinn’s hand tightened around yours.

“They wrapped ice around it; it looks bad,” he said quietly and you caressed your thumb over his hand, trying to comfort him. 

“She’s here with me right now…shut the fuck up… I’m hanging up right now,” he said, rolling his eyes. Putting his phone back down, he looked over to you. 

“You can probably let the trainers back in now; I’ll behave,” he told you with a lazy grin. 

“Yeah yeah,” you said standing back up. “I’ll grab them.” 

“Will you wait for me after?” 

“I’m going to be here until 5 anyway, buddy. Just text me if you need me to come back down,” you told him, and he frowned before giving you a mischievous look. 

“Well, I’m going to need someone to take me home,” he said and you rolled your eyes. 

“Don’t push your luck.”

Without even thinking, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his forehead. He stilled with shock before smiling to himself. 

“I think a kiss somewhere else would make me feel better,” he teased as you walked to the door. You didn’t even entertain his words, just flipping him off as you walked. The blush on your cheeks told you that maybe those feelings you shoved down were a lot bigger than you thought. 

[itsjusthockey]

Hughes Your Daddy pt.2 - Jack Hugges

wow.

It took longer than expected, but you should all be thankful because I was going to quit this blog, but I didn't give up

tell me how proud you are and how much you love it. pls & thx

Anyway, enjoy ❤️

w.c: 2,754 (credit to gif maker) (don't steal my work)

The crisp 100-dollar bill you’ve just won sits nicely tucked in your back pocket as Jack breaks the world record for sprinting and dodging almost a million cameras to get to you. As soon as he crashes into your waiting arms, he lifts you into the air and lets out a breathy laugh in your ear that’s only reserved when you’re with him. It’s light, happy, and maybe even a little giddy.

After a moment of you being suspended in the air, he gently sets you down, giving you one last tight squeeze, then backs up to see your face.

“Did I embarrass you?”

You give him a slight smirk and shrug your shoulders. “You did okay.”

He playfully rolls his eyes, shaking his head at you as he moves on to hug his waiting parents. With his attention away from you, you survey the space and catch sight of the other Hughes brothers walking toward the group.

Luke is doing his little half smile and has a slight pep in his step that comes with a nice win, and Quinn looks about unbothered with everything as usual. You make a mental note of that, knowing that your evil boyfriend is going to push his buttons later to get any sort of reaction to his loss.

“Nice game, Lukey,” you pull him into a hug as he gets within distance, patting his arm as you pull away. “You’re kinda being a stud out there.”

Luke blushes a shade darker at your comment, and you can’t help but love knowing you can still get a rise out of him. Luke moves on, too, and you’re left facing the only Hughes brother who didn’t have a win tonight.

“Tough loss cap.” You hug Quinn tightly before glancing back at your boyfriend and leaning in slightly to whisper in his ear. “But we all know you’re still the best.”

Quinn gives you a small laugh, and you can see his head is held a little higher as you pull him to join the circle with the rest of the family. As soon as you do, Jack opens his smart mouth.

“Family circles are for winners only.”

As soon as the words leave his lips, Ellen hisses his name, and you pinch the back of his arm as hard as you can.

“Ow,” he yelps at you, rubbing his arm. “What was that for?”

You give him a look that tells him exactly what that was for, to which he rolls his eyes at you.

“He knows it’s in good fun,” Jack says. “Right Q?”

This time, Quinn rolls his eyes but nonetheless nods his head.

The group chats about the game for a couple of minutes before unanimously deciding that family dinner is a must, and then you’ll head back to Quinn’s place for one last night altogether. As soon as the decision is made, you beeline to follow when Jack holds you back for a second.

“Dinner, just you and me, okay?” He all but pleads, pulling you toward him.

You glance back at his family walking away, seemingly unaware you two fell behind.

“They want to see you too, J.”

He grabs your hands and pulls even closer, leaving no room for any personal space. “They don’t care that much, and I haven’t had a second alone with you.”

His point is fair, but you also are torn by the fact that it isn’t very often that all three brothers are together.

“C’mon (Y/N). The winner should get a reward dinner right?”

You raise your eyebrow at him. “Then shouldn’t we invite Luke?”

He snorts at your comment and shakes his head.

“Please, I did the heavy lifting.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re at a nice restaurant in downtown Vancouver. It’s big yet cozy and has low lighting, making it slightly romantic. You’re impressed with Jack's pick, but you also know deep in your heart he probably asked Quinn for his recommendations.

Your reserved table is in a cozy little corner, and a bottle of wine is sitting out, ready to be poured. You’re beyond happy with the setup, but you can’t help but feel a little underdressed as you both walk toward your seats. Jack has his game-day suit, but you’re still clad in a red and black jersey with the number eighty-six plastered across the back.

“This is wonderful, J, but you couldn’t warn me to wear something a little nicer.”

He pulls out the chair for you before you sit down, and as he crosses to the seat directly opposite you, he laughs.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He smirks. “This is my favorite outfit for you to be in.”

You roll your eyes as far back as possible but let it go. You are proud to be his girlfriend, and you allow him to have this little ego boost for one evening.

You spend the next hour talking about everything and nothing, and when the bill comes, Jack hands over his card, and you two pack up the leftovers you have, knowing Luke will destroy them once you get back to the house.

Once the card returns, you head out into the chill Vancouver night with Jack's arms wrapped around your waist. The walk to the car is short and filled with your usual light banter. As soon as you're within the view of the car, you go to swat away Jack's arm when he gets a little too handsy, but not before your boyfriend reaches into your back pocket and pulls out the hundred dollar bill that was safely hidden.

He eyes the bill with curiosity and darts his eyes back and forth between you and the bill for a few seconds.

“What this?”

“Cash?” You deadpan, moving to snatch the bill away, but he holds it out of your grip.

“You never carry cash.” He narrows his eyes slightly, then a dawning look crosses his face.

“This is the fourth hundred I’ve found in your pocket after a game with my brothers.”

You give him a surprised look but shake your head no.

“It’s just a coincidence, Jack.”

He passes you back the bill, but let’s put a low whistle. “Twice is a coincidence. Four times is a pattern.”

Before you can open the passenger door to the car, Jack blocks his body with it, tilting his head to the side and eyeing you up and down.

“You wanna know how I think you’re getting the money?”

You let out a puff of air, wishing he’d drop it, but you also know your boyfriend, and he will never let it go.

“Sure.” You take a step closer to him. “Let’s hear your theory.”

He smirks again and leans toward you as if he’s going to tell you a secret.

“I think you’re betting with my dad.”

You freeze when he speaks and must admit he’s smarter than he looks. You want to deny the accusation, but you simply shrug your shoulders and lean away from him.

“An excellent theory, J, but alas, it’s none of your business.”

You meet his stare, lean into him to kiss him on the cheek, and then body-check him from the side, and he stumbles just enough to allow you to climb into the passenger seat.

He heads to the driver a second later, and when he climbs in, the conversation is merely forgotten. You go back into talking about everything you’ve missed in each other's lives until you pull into the familiar driveway.

The house is decently quiet when you walk in, and when you round into the dining room, you see Luke and Quinn on opposite sides of the table, a checkerboard between them. Luke is stressed, chewing slightly on his hand, and across from him, Quinn sits with a smug smile and a stack of chips next to him.

“C'mon Lu, you’re better than this.” You say, gently patting his shoulder as you bring the leftovers to the fridge.

He huffs and glares at Quinn. “I am better, and I think he’s cheating somehow.”

Jack pipes up from behind you. “How can you cheat at checkers?”

Luke huffs again and mutters a quiet “he’s finding a way” under his breath, returning his attention to the board.

Jack crosses the room and sits down next to Luke, saying he’s playing the next round to defeat Quinn for the second time that night, and as soon as he takes his attention off you, you beeline to the living room in hopes of finding your gambling partner.

You find Jim and Ellen in the living room, and when you enter, they’re beyond excited to see you. You sit on the opposite chair and lean over to them both, whispering so the boy in the other room won’t hear you.

“Jack is onto us.”

Jim gives you a confused look.

“He knows about the betting.”

Ellen lets a giant laugh bubble past her lips, and soon enough, you’re all laughing about the situation.

“Out of all of them to figure it out,” Jim says, shaking his head.

You smile at them both, telling them how the secret came out, and in the end, they shrug it off.

“Just because he knows doesn’t mean we should stop. If anything, maybe it will be more of an incentive.”

You smile ear to ear and relax back into the chair, knowing that the little game won’t end, even if the boys know about it. You settle back into casual conversation for a while before you hear some commotion from the dining room, and Ellen gives you a knowing look.

You walk swiftly back into the dining where the chaos is, and when you enter, you see Quinn sitting calmly with his arms crossed and Jack standing in front of him, surrounded by all the tiny checker pieces with the board flipped upside down.

You can’t stifle your laughter, and you high-five Quinn across the table as Jack turns to you with a cold stare.

“You two can laugh all you want. I still won the actual game tonight.”

Quinn shrugs his shoulders at Jack. “Well, I just won the game that clearly matters more. So who’s the real winner tonight.”

Quinn throws you a wink as he begins cleaning up the pieces on the floor, and Jack follows suit, angrily putting them into the little pouch they came in.

You watch them clean up the game and go to stand by Luke, who’s eating your leftovers and quietly watching the scene unfold in front of him.

“Did you just stand here the whole time?” You ask.

He takes another large bite. “I enjoyed the show.”

You knock your shoulder against him, and a few minutes later, all the games are put away, and you all decide to join the parents in the living room. There, you watch a few episodes of The Office under Jack's hold, and soon enough, you find yourself dozing off in the comfortable position and extra body heat.

You're not sure how long you're asleep until you wake up hearing some shuffling around you. You open your eyes and see that Ellen and Jim have already left, and Luke and Quinn are moving around, getting ready also to leave the shared space. Quinn folds up a blanket and places it on the couch when you quietly whisper at him.

“Is he asleep?” You ask, referring to the boy behind you who’s gripped has softened a bit and whose breath has gone steady.

Quinn nods and whispers back a goodnight, leaving you and Jack alone in the living room. You’re perfectly content to stay on the coach, but that doesn’t last until you feel Jack move behind you.

“What time is it?” He mutters.

You look around for your phone, and when you click on the screen, it reads about half an hour before midnight. You show him the screen, and he hums.

“Wanna go to bed?”

You nod, slinging your legs to the side and getting up. Your muscles are stiff, and you stretch them out as Jack follows close behind you to the shared bedroom you've been occupying this weekend.

As you are busy getting ready for bed, Jack joins you in your domestic bliss, washing your face together and brushing your teeth. You can’t help but smile into the toothpaste because every time you go to stare at him, he’s already looking at you, and a blush creeps into his cheeks when he gets caught.

You finish up, climbing into your pajamas, and when you walk back into the room, Jack is already under the covers, looking at his phone. As soon as he notices you, he tosses the device away and lifts the sheets, patting the space beside him.

You crawl in, and within a moment, his arms wrap securely around you, and you’re pulled to his chest. All the stress of finals, flying back and forth, and life in general melt away, and for the first time in a long while, you know you’ll get the best sleep tonight.

You settle in even deeper into Jack's hold, reading yourself to enter the dreamland until you’re slightly brought back when he gently taps your arm three times, your relationship code to see if you’re still awake.

“Yeah?” You ask, flipping over to face him in the darkness.

“I just have a question.” He whispers

You wait for him to ask, and after a second passes, he does.

“Of course, I’m not mad or anything. You betting with my dad is the funniest thing ever. But one thing is bugging me.”

You gently rub his arm, and he continues.

“How did you win?” His voice is soft. “Did you bet on us winning even though we haven’t been playing the best? Or was it something else? Do you switch teams? Or how do you decide which team you bet on?”

He throws so many questions at you that you silence him with a light kiss pressed to his lips. It effectively shuts him up, and he stays quiet until you answer.

You take a minute to speak on purpose, wanting to make him wait, but you know that his wheels are turning, and he honestly doesn’t know your secret to success, and you know you have to tell him.

It’s never a question when you’re betting with Jim; you always pick with your heart, and you’re rarely wrong, and even when you are, you’re still correct with the outcome, and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

“I never have to decide.” You press another kiss to his lips. “I always bet on you.”

[hhughes]

❍⌇𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 — 𝐐𝐇𝟒𝟑 ‧₊˚ ꒱

pairing: fem!celeb!singer x quinn hughes

summary: in which a famous singer from vancouver has a little crush on her home team’s captain. there’s a Jayden mentioned in this (he is reader’s ex bf who is a professional football player. completely fictional!!)

genre: social media fic

fc: sabrina carpenter

note: I had so much fun creating this!! giving quinny the love he deserves!! as always I hope you like it and feedback is always appreciated and adored <3

YOUTUBE | COSMOPOLITAN POSTED !

-> some of the web’s most searched questions with Y/N L/N

1.7 M viewers | 52K likes | 3 dislikes | posted 2 weeks ago!

… (10K comments)

user56: OMG!? YN and hockey?? my two worlds colliding

user89: STOP. the way she’s blushing and giggling?? I mean same girl but-

user17: she’s so beautiful

user33: I NEED new music. like right now

⤷ user54: what do you think the new album is gonna be about?

⤷ user33: definitely Jayden. I can’t wait for the tea

user39: jumping from football to hockey💀

⤷ user61: don’t kid yourself YN has always been a hockey girl. she’s from Canada

user64: a win for the quinn girlies

⤷ user26: actually it’s not 😞

user99: guess I’m gonna have to watch hockey now

user23: she’s so real for being a quinn girl😌

⤷ user19: quinn is the hottest hughes brother confirmed

⤷ user11: he has brothers?? 🤭

nhl

liked by quinnhughes, trevorzegras and others.

nhl: canada’s very own pop star, Y/N L/N is confirmed to be one of the all-star celebrity captains. the singer will also be performing in between games on saturday!

view all comments

user53: do we know what team she’s the celeb captain of??

⤷ user65: if it’s not quinn’s…I will riot

⤷ nhl: Y/N is set to captain team hughes!

trevorzegras: might need to make another appearance at the all star game this year. you need a plus one? @.jackhughes

⤷ user55: trevor💀

⤷ user32: $50 he’s only doing this to piss quinn off😭

yourusername: so so excited! I can’t wait!

⤷ user95: shoot your shot queen

user76: oh I can’t wait for the YN and quinn content

⤷ user53: you think he’s gonna be practicing his smile in the mirror every day so he doesn’t look like a haunted cat when he meets her

⤷ eliaspettersson: 100%

[homestylehughes]

reading interruptions

pairing(s): quinn hughes x fem!reader

summary: when yn gets interrupted by quinn and his dirty mouth, while reading on the boat.

warning(s): plot with porn, smut 18+, oral fem!receiving, dirty talk, cussing. quinn has a dirty mouth in this. fluff, cute reader and quinn.

wc: 2.8k

an: hiiiii!!! new quinn ficcccc. i will never leave my quinn era. ever. recently ive been in a summer mood, first with sundresses and now with boats idk whats going on LOL. i honestly dont know where this idea came from, and for some reason i think it's bad? idk maybe ive just been looking at it too long i couldnt tell you LOL. so let me know if you guys like it or not. anyways!! i'll stop yapping now. i hope you guys enjoyyyy, like and reblog if you do! as always much love <3

happy reading <3

The morning sun comes through the window, peeking through everglow slightly illuminating the room, casting a light glow over the walls and a sleeping quinn. Quinns body lays partially over mine, our legs intertwined together. his face nuzzled into my neck, soft snores leave his mouth as he sleeps soundly against me.

There weren't many days where I'd wake up before Quinn, his schedule keeping and waking him up at the early hours of the day. Ever since the hockey season ended in a heartbreaking loss in the playoffs, he'd been sleeping more, getting the much deserved rest he’s needed. Quinn wanted away from hockey, from Vancouver, so he decided heading to the lake house earlier than usual to get away from everyone would be the fix. 

Which leads us to the position we're in now, my hands moving slowly up and down his back as he still sleeps soundly against me. Quinn always looks the most peaceful when he’s sleeping, so at peace and calm.

I feel quinns body shift slightly besides me, feeling him roll away from me, my body already feeling cold without his warmth beside me. I sit up in the bed, watching Quinn stretch and yawn himself awake, rubbing his eyes like a little kid before he turns to me with a soft smile on his face.

“Good morning” he says, his voice thick with sleep. 

“Good morning handsome” I smile back “sleep well?” 

“Mhm” he mumbles out as he makes his way to me from across the bed, grabbing my thighs pulling me on top of him. 

“Hi” i giggle from above him 

“Hi baby” he grins at me, his hands finding my neck pulling me down into a sweet kiss. My hands lay flat against his chest as I melt into the kiss. After a few moments I pull away to catch my breath, and to get a better look at him. The glow of the sun now being at its brightest, covering most of the room. Highlighting Quinn's body, his golden brown locks and blue eyes shining brightly in the glow. 

“You look so pretty” I say, as I bring my hands to his cheeks, running my fingers over his jaw, over every scar. Tracing and taking in everything part of him, memorizing every line like I've never seen them before. Quinn blushes at my complement, nuzzling his face into my hand, a smile breaking through on his features as he does so.

“Thank you baby” he says, bringing his head back to lay against the pillow looking back at me. “What do you want to do today?” his hands running across my bare thighs, his touch spreading warmth throughout my body. 

“Could we go on the boat?” i ask

“Is that what you want to do?” he asks me again.

“Mhm, yes. I even brought a new book to read to you, just for this, " I say with a smile.

 Quinn loves when i read to him, the peaceful feeling of being on the boat, the waves flowing beneath would be the perfect setting. 

“Alright you've convinced me, maybe we could even have lunch on the boat too? If you're up for that?” 

“That's fine with me, just want to be around you” I say before dropping my head into his neck, breathing in his scent, his arms circling around my waist pulling my body flush against his. 

“Okay baby” he says into my hair

 “Okay come on, let's get up. '' I said, lifting myself from him, patting his chest before swinging my legs off of him getting out of bed.

“I'm cominggggg” Quinn says from the bed, as I make my way to the bathroom, turning back around to see him lying face down in the middle of the bed, his arms and legs fanning out across the bed. 

Giggles rip through my body as I look at his childlike state, shaking my head as I take another glance at him before turning around heading to the bathroom to start getting ready for my day.

Taking a quick shower, throwing on a random swimsuit, before heading down stairs to start making lunch for myself and Quinn to take on the boat. 

Deciding on sandwiches and chips, with some fruit would be the best option for lunch. Just as I'm packing everything up I see Quinn coming down the stairs, in a pair of black swim trunks and a Canucks shirt. 

'What did you pack for lunch?’ he asks, pressing a kiss to the side of my head, walking behind me to the fridge to grab bottles of water before turning back the counter, putting the bottles of water in the cooler.

“Sandwiches, chips and fruit, is that okay with you?” I say as I place the food into the cooler along with the water, closing the top before looking up at quinn. 

“Yeah that's fine with me baby, perfect” he says leaning in for a quick kiss

“Do you have everything you need?” he says while grabbing the cooler from the counter walking towards the back door

“Yes I think so, let me go grab my bag from the couch then I'm ready” I say smiling at him, making my way to the living room grabbing my bag that has my book, sunglasses and other things in it, pulling it over my shoulder before following Quinn out the back door.

Following him down the dock towards the boat, reaching the boat, Quinn got on first placing the cooler down before turning around offering me his hand, helping me step on the boat. 

Walking over, placing my things on one of the seats, turning around, taking a look at the lake, the site never fails to take my breath away. I feel Quinn's arms circle my waist, pulling my body against his. 

“Where do you wanna go today?” he asks me, his chin resting on my shoulder as he looks out at the lake. 

“Doesn't matter me” i say turning around wrapping my arms around his neck, “take us where the wind takes you” 

“That was so corny” he laughs 

“Yeah it sounded better in my head..” i say laughing along with him

“It was still cute” he says, giving a kiss to my forehead, turning around making his way to the dock, untying the boat from the dock. 

“Okay ma'am we’re about to take off, all passengers please remain in your seats” he says with a smile spreading along his features. 

“Yes caption” I say, saluting him, taking a seat on the boat.

Making his way to the cockpit sitting down, turning on the boat before taking off along the water, the wind blowing in my hair as we ride across the lake

The boat rocks gently to the calm waves that run through the lake, Quinn docking the boat, now at a standstill in the middle of the lake. The bright summer sun beating on our skin, the warmth casting over my body as I grab my book, before settling back in my seat. Moving a pillow to rest under my neck and part of my upper back, laying down to rest myself against it, pulling my knees up, so i can rest my book on my thighs opening it book, i begin reading,

The romance novel pulls me into an alternate reality so deep that  I forget that I'm even on the boat with Quinn until his voice breaks through the silence. 

“I missed it out here” he says his eyes looking around the lake taking in it like it's his first time seeing it, “i forgot how peaceful it is out here” he continues.

“ It's so peaceful out here, it's nice to see you so relaxed” I say to Quinn, looking at him above the pages of my book.

“I thought you were supposed to read to me baby?” he asks

“Come over here” I say with a smile, opening my legs so he can rest in between them. his footsteps padding across the boat, as he lays himself between my legs, his warm skin laying against mine, his arms circling around my waist as he pulls himself closer to me. 

“Comfortable?” I say looking down at him, his head resting against my stomach, Quinn shaking his head up and down in response. 

“Good. okay, now where was I?” my eyes searched for where I left off on my page, finding my spot again, taking a deep breath before I began reading. My eyes glance down every few minutes to see if Quinn is asleep or not, occasionally feeling his fingers trace down my sides, as I continue to read to him. Just as I'm getting to an interesting part in my chapter, I feel Quinn's body move lower against mine, not thinking anything of his movement. I continue reading. 

Pausing to take a deep breath before reading the next line, I feel a warm kiss being placed right below my belly button, causing me to stop reading, lifting the book up, looking down at Quinn whose face is right in front of my covered core, his eyes locked with mine. 

“What are you doing?” I ask slightly confused at his actions

“Nothing, just wanted to lay down here, keep reading for me baby” 

“Okay” I say before licking my lips, picking up on the unread line. 

I don't even make it through half the page before I feel Quinn pressing more kisses across my lower stomach, kissing all along the top of my bottoms. His fingers sliding under the ties on the slides pulling down slightly, rubbing his fingers along the skin under. 

Clearing my throat before starting again, my brain struggling to register the words I'm reading, all of my focus on the man between my legs. My brain goes completely to mush, when I feel quinn pressed kisses against my covered core, my breath immediately hitching at the sudden touch. 

“Quinn, i'm trying to read '' my eyes locking with his, a small smirk dances along his face. 

“No ones stopping you from reading baby” he says, his fingers moving under the sides of my bottoms. 

His hands move to pull on one of the strings that hold the left side of my bottom together, pulling it apart with one tug, repeating the same action on the other side, his eyes still locked with mine. 

“Quinn '' my breath hitching, as he moved his thumbs under the now loosened fabric, peeling it back, exposing my bare cunt, the wind casting a slight breeze causing me to shutter when it hits my exposed center. 

“Quinn” I say again, my voice slightly higher than the previous attempt, trying to get his attention. 

“Yes?” 

“What are you doing? I thought you wanted me to read to you?” 

“I did, but now I want to hear that pretty mouth make some other noises,” he says, before grabbing the loosened bottoms from my body, throwing them somewhere on the boat. Grabbing the book out of my hands, closing it, throwing it in the same direction. 

“Quinn, are you serious, I was reading!” I am slightly annoyed but turned on at the sudden change of Quinn's intentions.

“Shhhhhh, lay back and let me have a taste” his eyes locked with mine as he began tracing random shapes on the insides of my thighs, his hand inching closer and closer to my exposed cunt. 

I couldn't help but comply with his words, his face inching closer and closer to my center, I felt his warm breath against my folds. His tongue darted out, licking a stripe down my center. My head falls back against the pillow, as he begins to lick at my folds. his hands pulling my thighs apart, gaining better access to my cunt. 

His tongue finds my clit as he begins to run his tongue along the bud, my jaw falling slack as my hands grab his hair, needing something to stabilize myself with. As he continues to lap up my clit, like a popsicle on a hot summer day. 

“Quinn, fuck” I moan out from above him, his movements never slowing running his tounge over every part of my cunt. The sound of him sucking up everybit of my wetness, is like music to my ears.

“Taste so good baby” he mutters against my cunt, before diving back in, his hands pulling my thighs further apart as he continues to devour my cunt. 

“Quinn don't stop please” my chest rising and falling quickly as I struggle to catch my breath. My body feels like it's on fire, not just from the heat of the sun on my skin but from the feeling of Quinn’s burning touch.

His tongue continues to thrust in and out of my weeping hole, my moans growing louder and louder as I feel myself getting closer to my peak. 

“Fuck look at you baby” pulling his face away from my cunt, bringing two of his fingers dragging them through my cunt, my wetness coating his fingers. 

“Look at that baby” he says now looking up at me, holding the two fingers in front of him, “do you wanna taste?” he asks me 

Nodding my head in a yes, Quinn brings his fingers to my mouth pushing my lips apart, shoving them into my mouth slowly. My tongue swirls around the digits, the taste of my cunt wrapping around each of my taste buds. 

My eyes are locked with Quinn’s as I continue to suck on his fingers, his eyes hooded with mine, blown with lust and he looks up at me. He slowly pulls the fingers out of my mouth, a string of saliva following them. Tracing his fingers down my stomach down to my core, before running them across my cunt, my body itching around nothing from the action. 

“Quinn” i whine

“What baby?” he says as continues to run his fingers along my cunt. 

“Do you want my fingers? Is that what you want?” 

“Yes fuck please” i whine again, my hands finding his hair again pulling it, hoping that, that will urge him along. 

“So needy baby” he says laughing against my cunt, placing a kiss to my slit before pushing two fingers into my cunt. 

My head dropping back instantly, my body feeling full, as he starts thrusting his fingers in and out. Broken moans are falling from my lips, my eyes closed as my body moves against his. Moving my hips to help meet his thrusts. 

“Right there right there” I moaned, my legs beginning to shake as I felt myself about to come. 

“Quinn” i whine out, as he attaches his mouth to my clit, rolling his tongue over it, as his fingers continue to fuck me. 

“Please dont stop fuck” lifting my head to look at quinn, the sight of him inbetween my legs, mouth wrapped around my clit, as i watch his fingers thrust in and out me, takes my breath away. 

Quinn's eyes looking up, locking them with mine, his movements never stilling. My hips continue to move against his, the burning feeling in the pit of my stomach continues to grow with every touch, thrust, everything setting my body a blaze. 

One last curl of his fingers sends me into a frenzy, my head dropping back against the pillow, my month agape but no words are coming out. My legs shaking as I come, my hands still in Quinn's hair pulling the locks so hard that it probably hurts. My vision clouds over as my orgasm takes over my body. 

I don't even realize Quinn's fingers have left my body, until I feel him pressing kisses along my neck. My eyes opened slowly, my chest still rising and falling, struggling to catch my breath and find my words. 

“Are you with me, pretty girl?” Quinn says, looking down at me, pushing hair that's fallen into my face back. 

“Yeah i think so” bringing my hands to his face, pulling him down into a kiss. 

“Did so good for me” he says once he pulls back, “always so good to me” he says peppering kisses all over my face. 

“I love you” i mumble to him

“I love you more” rubbing small circles on my sides, as he looks at me, a wide smile on his face. 

“Can you go grab my book?” I ask him with a small pout on my lips

“Oh im not done with you yet” quinn says with a smirk playing his face, before flipping us over, my hips now straddling his lap. 

“I think this is next to go” pulling at my top, undoing the strings in the back pulling it from my body tossing it somewhere in the boat, my top now completely bare to him. 

“Now where was i?” he says licking his lips, before crashing ours together. 

[ab4eva]

‘The Three of Us: Brat Behavior’

Fully co-authored with: my love @therealslimshakespeare

Notes: The response to the first fic has been so unexpected and overwhelmingly amazing - thank you, thank you to everyone who has read, reblogged, liked, screamed and gushed over it! It has made our little hearts so very full, we can’t even express properly just how happy it’s made us! We hope you enjoy this installment - we love hearing from you so please feel free to scream at us!

Warnings: Threesome, all the sex that entails, 18+ only

Word count: 6.3k

The Three of Us - part 1

-

When the paparazzi pictures of you and Callum outside a pre-Emmy’s bash were splashed across the internet, the confusion was palpable. The photo evidence of Austin Butler’s girlfriend looking especially loved up with his best friend sparked more than a bit of outrage. It wouldn’t have been so bad, if they had snapped the two of you just a few seconds before. But the way his strong arms engulfed your entire body, your sequined dress glittering in the night as your back was pressed to his broad chest while you waited on the curb for your ride. The way he nuzzled your neck and made you giggle - the evidence was undeniable. Tumblr was once again set ablaze with rumors and speculation:

“I thought she was dating his close friend? Wtf?”

“He didn’t seem like this kinda dude but ok, another disappointment. Damn.”

“Bro code is dead it seems.”

But then, a day after those pictures captured headlines, a new set of photos made the rounds. Austin Butler himself could be seen, standing just off to the side, laughing and chatting with you and Callum. Upon further inspection he had been there all along - crouched in front of you and Cal, talking to the Uber driver, head ducked into the window. A leather jacket-clad arm, just barely inside the photo, ringed hand entwined with yours as Callum held you in his arms. A collective huh could be heard throughout the fandom.

-

The three of you had had exactly two months together, before going your separate ways for work. Two months of clandestine, late night get togethers at Austin’s house or your apartment. Two months of breakfasts in bed, hikes at Fryman Canyon and coffee dates at Aroma. Two months of hard work while each of you prepared for your next projects, the tedious research and memorizing lines made a little bit easier, more interesting, just by being in each other’s company. A thousand kisses, smiles, secret looks, soft touches and more than double that in sighs, whimpers and blushes. Until one day, when the party finally seemed to be over, for now, and all that was left were deflated balloons and half-hung streamers.

The night before you left for Europe for five months you spent with Austin, just the two of you, cuddled up in his big bed, eating takeout and watching old movies. You, Callum and Austin had already said your goodbyes to one another earlier in the day, a bittersweet encounter that left you happy, satisfied and more than a bit sore, and you wondered how, exactly, you’d fair spending ten hours sitting on a plane the next day. The boys were due to ship out in the next couple of days as well - Austin to New Mexico for a new film, followed by press for The Bikeriders after that. And Callum was off to Vancouver for his next film, Eternity. The way things were looking, you three wouldn’t be together in the same room again until September, just in time for the Emmy’s, which seemed like an awfully long time to miss someone. Two someones.

What followed over the spring and summer were five long months of mutual pining and longing and horniess that was only partially satiated by group video chats as often as schedules allowed. These catch-ups inevitably turned into what amounted to three-way phone sex with everyone getting off in their separate hotel rooms and going to bed alone, wishing it was any other way than the way it was. You bought a ridiculous amount of cute lingerie just for these hangouts, not to mention various toys and gadgets sure to turn on more than just you.

Then there was the group text chat that Callum had set up and named, appropriately, The Lads. Sometimes it was silent except for a thumbs up from Austin on yesterday’s “Miss you, chums,” from Callum. He had taken to calling you and Austin his lads, his chaps, etc. And you, in turn, deemed him Old Bean, never using the affectionate nickname without also employing a stuffy British accent, purely to see his face light up and crack with a smile. Sometimes you sent suggestive food photos from your apartment in Budapest, “food porn” as you cheekily referred to them. Your little hand wrapped around a squash you were cutting up for soup or two avocados you saucily bounced in your palm, mimicking a favorite move of the boys’ - you could almost hear them groan in ecstasy a thousand miles away. It tickled them pink when you did this and almost always led to a filthy string of threats from Callum and a soft expletive from Austin.

Sometimes this group chat got you all in trouble, or at the very least, terribly embarrassed. There was the time you were in a production meeting with other department heads on the film and Callum sent a picture of himself in tight boxer briefs, lounging in bed, veiny hand gripping his very hard dick through thin fabric. Or the time you sent a, mostly covered, nude pic and Austin’s manager happened to be holding his unlocked phone at that moment. You could picture exactly the furious blush that must have spread over his entire face.

But it wasn’t all lighthearted chatting and sexy photos. Sometimes you’d come across a paparazzi photo of Callum out to dinner with friends or a co-star. You didn’t love how white hot jealousy burned through you like a smoldering ember, blinding you to the truth. The truth that he has girls who are friends. That he’s an affectionate, touchy-feely kind of guy and sometimes he just can’t help himself. You had to tamp down your needy tendencies and remind yourself that you didn’t own him and besides, it was always you and Austin for him at the end of the day anyway. And sometimes you’d be scrolling Instagram, when out of the blue, you were stopped dead in your tracks by a picture of Austin on someone’s feed. The sense of desire and longing that kept you tethered to him would tighten and threaten to spill over in tears.

-

The thing about Callum Turner is that his constant teasing and joking, that wheedling mouth of his, gets him into all sorts of unforeseen trouble. And the trouble coming his way tonight ain’t his usual choice of dynamic but hey, he’s here now and whatever comes his way, he might as well try new things, eh?

“So what, you’re a big boy, big shot, producer fella now, huh? Off doing big shot important shite, too busy for us?” Cal says through a wide grin, though the playfulness of his words doesn’t quite reach his eyes. There’s some other emotion stirring in those blue depths - neediness, maybe. Or impatience. The only response from Austin is a quiet breath, huffed out through flared nostrils as he sips from his cocktail and looks around the room, choosing to ignore the teasing.

Austin is Mr. Stately Reserved at the party - not really, it just seems that way from the outside. Or the inside, as it were. He’s hugging and laughing and chatting but to Callum, who’s missed him more than he cares to admit, even to himself, it’s maddeningly poised. Callum would like to smooch him and pick him up and twirl him around but Austin is barely even looking him in the eye. He wants to grab that perfect, model face that Austin has on for the cameras, the crowd, and wreck it. Make sure he still feels something behind that cool and indifferent facade.

Austin glances at you as his hand goes round your waist, tugging you closer to his side in the crowded room. You sneak a glance at Callum through your eyelashes and are amused to find a rather put out expression on his face. Every little thing Cal thinks bolts across his features like a flashing neon sign. You bite your lip and turn the snicker escaping your lips into a cough behind your hand. Cal’s eyes flicker to you and you raise an eyebrow, imperceptibly shaking your head, staring him down and silently pleading with him to be patient, just cool it. You can tell by the way his mouth sets into a determined little smile that your telepathic message was not well received.

“You could just ask to be dommed, you know?” Austin says suddenly, voice monotone, eyes unreadable and his haughty, camera-ready face still scanning the room.

“How the hell does that correlate to being dommed, Aus? Huh? How?” There’s an outraged disbelief in Cal’s tone that almost outweighs the high pitched -although mild -panic seeping through. Never unsure, ever, at least that you’ve seen him, until Austin Butler interprets him some such way and then this big tough man is a flailing and defensive windmill of arms and definitions.

“You’re literally so happy to see me, everyone here can see your tail wagging, that’s how,” Austin says smoothly out of the side of his mouth, an almost bored tone permeating his inflammatory words.

“Ah see, now, I’m offended mate, here I am, missing my friend, showing it -and I get called a furry. You into that now?” Callum ribs goodnaturedly.

“Wouldn’t say no to you on Halloween just ‘cause you were wearing a pair of ears,” Austin admits with a suppressed grin. Already in full contestant mode, it takes Callum a brief minute to close his mouth and realize he’s just won a victory for himself here.

“Now that’s the kinda way to make a fella feel special, Austin. That and loaning me your cable to watch the game later. That would do it.”

“Oh I’ll make you feel special, Cal, just not in front of Steven Spielberg,” Austin murmurs, as the man himself starts to make his way across the room to shake their hands. Austin finally turns his eyes on Callum and holds his gaze so intensely that Cal’s stomach drops and he feels a twitch in his pants, like he shoulda braced or something before those eyes flicked over and met his: fuckin’ finally.

And he just knows, in that moment, that he’s in for it. He’s gonna get what he’s been asking for all night, and from that moment on, his stomach is in pleasurable knots and he can’t concentrate on anything anyone is saying to him. And if there’s a wink in there somewhere, when Austin is sure no one can see, well, it makes Cal just about stagger, both from assurance and the weirdly hot feeling of being a naughty little secret.

—

The coast is clear. Or that’s Cal’s best guess when Austin’s golden little head stops covertly craning around the corner of the elevator to inspect the hallway and turns instead to lock eyes with him.

Oh that smile, soft but not tender, slow but not lazy, constrained but nothing short of mischief in a bottle. A lean, ringed hand darts out and Cal is suddenly tripping over his big feet, pulled into the dim hall by a fist in the gap of his double breasted blazer, Austin’s knuckles firm against his sternum when he lurches forward too fast. A dog on a leash. And the hypnotic swirl of the carpet’s pattern blurs with the interspersed lamps on the dark walls until it’s nothing but a streak of swirls and Austin’s shoulders ahead of him. He’s got them fuckin’ joggin’ to the room. Cal’s loud laugh surprises himself but he’s too happy to shove it down.

“So ya did miss me -badly looks like- ya’poncy bastard.”

Austin does nothing more than throw an amused look over his shoulder, not a hitch in his fast stride. The look glances off Cal’s grinning face and back behind him to where you’re lagging behind, not out of shyness or hesitancy, instead you’re unabashedly admiring the view from back here, watching them tug and run and fall into each other on patterned carpet leading to the suite.

“Keep up, angel!” Austin insists before turning his face back towards his break-neck trajectory.

The tone and the attitude reminds you of that afternoon when you’d all first settled into some sort of lasting mojo, one that had begun in bed but wouldn’t last without some care outside in the carless, callous, scrutinizing world. You’d gone rock climbing, sweaty tank tops and dusty hands a-pair, the competitive spirit spilled onto you too as they grappled up the wall.

You’d been one of the boys then. And it felt just right. Especially when the boys were as loving and devoted as these to each other.

They’ve a head start on you down the hall, the heels Austin had helped you out of in the elevator did their damage to your poor toes but you try anyway, sequins rough and crushed in your sweaty palm as you hike up your dress skirt and sprint after them, the hallway suddenly burning hot in your exertions, Cal’s sweaty face cackling maniacally back at you as you try, and fail, to grab at his coat tails, seems to share the sentiment.

“We gotta get out of these layers.”

Dexterous, and a dozen other potent synonyms that Cal has indulged in coming up with late at night on his brainy apps, is how he’d describe Austin on a good day. It’s a goddamn magic trick tonight, the way the room key is suddenly in his hand from up his shirt sleeve, like pulling a white rabbit out of a hat, and it’s tapping and opening the latch.

The room is cool, dim and smells of your hairspray and Austin’s cologne. Cal salivates and would contemplate that being a new low to go with being called a furry tonight, but then his back is being slammed harshly against the small wall space by the door, Austin’s fist still tight against his chest, suit coat clenched between white knuckles. He’s really letting Butler just toss him around tonight, and dimly he knows he could do something about that but after hours of trying to blow straw wrapper balls at him to get the least response, it’s nice to be manhandled instead.

Oh, right, ok, of course— Austin’s keeping him here, the door propped open with a Louis Vuitton outfitted foot so you can come in too.

This wasn’t all about bruising Cal’s back. He finds himself mildly disappointed by that. Odd. Tonight’s been odd. But it just got nicer with you coming in all pink cheeked and panting from the race.

“Third place.” Cal has enough assholish gusto left in him to taunt over Austin’s shoulder, sticking three large and disrespectful fingers in your eye-line as you pass, shoving the score quite literally in your face.

You were headed to pull the drapes, being a nice little girlfriend and respecting how tough it might be for either of these guys to find themselves on TMZ tomorrow doing...whatever it is that Austin’s doing pinning Cal up to the wall like he’s a suspect. But with this competitive provocation regarding having lost a foot race to two very large, very competitive and highly motivated young men, you pause in your errand of mercy and chomp at the offending fingers instead, drawing a howl from Callum. To his credit he no longer looks remotely surprised when you do that anymore.

“Only loser here is you,” Austin jabs but the door has just banged closed, let go by his foot, and Callum has the decency to swallow very hard at whatever the hell that look on his face means.

“Your hair’s grown back out,” Austin adds, not conversationally, more like someone pleased their Amazon order came as advertised. His eyes rake over Callum’s features, following the swirls of soft curls falling across his forehead.

You trip backwards to the curtains, not wanting to miss a thing and hardly registering banging your heel on the very modern and very sharp ottoman corner that’s in between you and the window.

“Ya like it?” Cal’s face lights up and his cheeks go a little pink under Austin’s intense scrutiny, making the light freckles that dot his nose spring to life. He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly aware it’s getting to the length it was when they first met. “I didn’t think you’d noticed, Mr. Big Shot, with all that schmoozing you were doing.”

Austin’s eyes deepen as his pupils dilate, almost swallowing the blues of his irises completely. The fist gripping Cal’s shirt loosens, only to be quickly replaced by a firm arm barred across his throat, threatening to cut off his air supply, both a warning and an invitation. Austin smiles darkly and a look flashes across his face, needy and possessive. Callum’s adrenaline kicks in, his cock throbbing painfully in sync with his pounding heart. He is reminded of the only other time he’s seen Austin Butler look this way.

Three Years Ago

The slow build from friends into something more had happened gradually, in tiny increments. How had they gone from walking Callum’s dog and dinners at the local pub to lying beside each other in the balmy dark, ragged breaths and quiet groans filling the air as they tugged each other’s cocks, their spend eventually spilling out, hot and sticky, onto their hands. But looking back now, Callum could see it had all blurred together, like an impressionist painting, and he was unable to tell where things began and ended. It felt like everything had happened all at once, their worlds colliding and meshing into one another, and that was the way it had always been, before they had ripped apart, separate once more.

The closer they came to wrapping Masters of the Air, the more inevitable the end became. One evening, towards the end, Austin had a mind to show his mate how much this meant to him, whatever this was. They’d never gone farther than some heavy petting, an urgent kiss here and there, and getting each other off. But that night, something simmered just under the surface and Austin, with slightly shaky hands, unbuttoned Callum’s jeans and pulled them down his solid thighs as he sank to his knees. He felt Callum’s hands rest lightly in his hair, thumbs brushing his temples as Austin slowly leaned forward. He hesitated a split second before taking Callum’s bulging tip into his mouth, his tongue running circles around it. The feeling was foreign but intriguing and he noted with distant observation the things Callum responded to. It was messy and awkward and thrilling, in an illicit sort of way. Cal’s muscles flexed beneath Austin’s gentle hands as they mapped and explored every dip and crease.

Weirdly it got him so hot and bothered, doing it, listening to Cal’s constant praise, that Austin noticed, with dissociated interest, his own cock growing hard and rubbing against the inseam of his pants with delicious agony. Cal sounded like he was being exorcized the braver he got, which spurred Austin on to redouble his fumbling but enthusiastic efforts. Callum surged forward and Austin gagged, barely recovering before gagging again. That's apparently what it took to get the job done and with less than a second’s warning, Austin pulled his mouth off Cal just as he started to come, using his fist to jerk the rest out of him with rough precision.

Once he caught his breath, Cal was ready to return the damn favor, and excited about it too. He led Austin to the edge of the bed as the blonde struggled to rid himself of the offending inseam and pants, tripping slightly in his haste. Cal chuckled and steadied him with a strong arm around his waist, licking a stripe up Austin’s neck as he did. Austin’s stomach flip-flopped at the promise of that mouth as he finally shucked his pants. Once out of its confines, his perfect, pink cock sprang up toward his belly, already slick and oozing. Callum pushed Austin onto the bed with a gentle shove, dropping to his knees between those long, lean legs. Austin fell back on his elbows, blue eyes ever watchful, his face red and gleaming with sweat. Cal grasped Austin’s hip firmly with a large hand, the fingertips of the other barely touching the angry cock bobbing at him at eye level. He hadn’t even had a chance to wrap his lips around it before Austin was shooting off without warning all over Callum - into his eye, up his nose, onto his open lower lip. Cal sputtered in shock, falling back on his ass in his haste to try and get the sticky stuff off.

“What the fuck, Butler! What the fuck?! It’s in my hair! Jesus Christ!” he moaned, the shock beginning to wear off. Callum looked so cute, with his freckles glazed and being dramatic as all hell and Austin was no help whatsoever. He laid there, feeling fabulous and sated with his spent cock still spurting now and again. Completely relaxed, zero sympathy, because truly he wasn’t even remotely sorry for cum up the nose when his throat was raw from sucking Cal’s massive dick.

In the present time Cal’s tentative: “You like them?” has Austin reaching up to drag through Callum’s curls after his pleading goad.

“They’re gonna make the prettiest handle here in a second.” Austin smirks and yanks his large puppy away from the wall, hauling him to the bed, gravity working in Austin’s favor as Cal trips over his feet and lands in a face-first splat onto fine weave cotton with a muffled “oomph.”

Without warning, Austin levels a hard smack to Callum’s bottom, the loud crack of it reverberating throughout the room. You gasp and freeze where you stand near the curtains, not wanting to disturb whatever this is that’s playing out. You see Austin wind up for another spank, delivering it just as Cal recovers from the shock of the first one. He roars, unused to being treated this way. A stream of curses leaves his mouth as he struggles to roll over, to fight back in some way. But Austin’s already kneeling on the bed, looming over him with one knee planted firmly on Callum’s back, pinning him down.

“The hell was that for?! Let me up!” Callum practically shouts, the panic of not being able to move setting in, all that alcohol he tossed back with abandon at the party making him slow and uncoordinated. “Fucking let me up, bro!”

“You’ve been a pain in my ass all night…couldn’t wait til we were alone, could you? Had to have allllll my attention right then. Had to act like a brat in front of our friends and colleagues.” He delivers another brutal smack that has Callum jolting forward, fists gripping the white duvet he’s face-planted in. Callum lets out a strangled moan, half frustration, half arousal. “Practically begged me to dom you…” smack. “Does my attention feel good now, hmm?”

You can’t watch from the sidelines any longer, your panties are already soaked and your legs feel shaky with need. Without a word you walk over and tug Cal’s pants off unceremoniously, his boxer-briefs sliding down with them. His usually pale, round bottom is already red, and by the look on Austin's face, it’s about to get much worse. Compulsively you kneel over Callum and kiss it better, your lips trailing little smooches over the angry skin before smoothing your cool palm across the expanse of his backside and rubbing his back soothingly. He lets out a sigh of misplaced relief, his hands relaxing their grip on the covers only to be startled out of his temporary reverie by another slap to his now bare ass. That one definitely left a mark and you stare in awe at the large handprint left behind. From there it’s just a tenderly brutal back and forth as you soothe what Austin stings.

Callum is so dazed by his own feelings and having allowed himself to be treated this way that when Austin stands and finally rolls him over he’s about as docile as a lamb. He didn’t even know he’d come until the cool air hits him and he realizes his belly and shirt are a hot, sticky mess. As Cal is hazily coming to grips with what just happened, you turn your gaze to Austin standing at the foot of the bed. In soothing one you hadn’t been paying attention to the other.

Your boyfriend is breathing hard and his face is flushed, like he’s just run a marathon. You bite your lip as your eyes travel the length of him, eyefucking him blatantly, there’s something so magnetic and even a little daunting about him when he’s in this mood. Your gaze stops at the outline of his hard cock pressed against his pants. You didn’t realize he was so turned on by what he’s taken out on Callum’s skin but it makes your belly jump as you slowly slide off the bed, the need to ravish him overwhelming.

In an instant your hands are in his hair, pulling and tugging his own curls. Your mouth is desperate for his, nipping and sucking and kissing every inch of him you can reach. You grab at his t-shirt, ripping it off in one fell swoop and tossing it aside before you resume your aggressive making out. You can’t decide what to focus on first - his plump, pink lips or his open neck. You decide to bite his collarbone, drawing a yelp from him. Your little hand, with perfectly painted red nails, palms his hard-on through his slacks, doing your damndest to give him a handjob through all that fabric. Austin pants into your mouth and unzips your dress, pushing it off your shoulders and to the floor. You step out of it as you push him against the wall, unbuttoning the fly of his pants and reaching a hand in to grip him fully. He’s so soft and warm and hard as you swipe your thumb across his tip, swirling your tongue over his, wishing you could feel him in your mouth. He lets out a choked moan as he unfastens your bra, his long fingers finding your peaked nipples and giving them a pinch. You’ve knocked his mojo off course for the moment and he shudders under your sensuous attack. And all the while Cal watches you two from the bed, one hand around his straining length, about to spurt again.

Austin suddenly breaks the kiss, grabbing your wrists and holding your body away from his. “That’s enough now, baby. I-I need you to get on Cal’s cock.” The command is so sudden and so sure it nearly winds you, but then Austin is mummering, “Can you do that for me, angel?” blue eyes suddenly serious as he stares you down, his lips kiss-swollen and neck already starting to bruise. You nod your head silently as he turns you around and shoves you toward the bed, smacking your ass hard as you willingly obey. Cal starts to sit up and move towards the headboard, like last time, ready to have you and some relief as well.

“No, no, no. On your back, Callum Turner. You stay on your back,” Austin commands quietly, pointing a finger. “You feeling special yet, baby boy, or will it take my cock down your throat, too?”

You’re straddling Cal now and after momentarily bracing for that extra burn only he can give, you deliciously sink down onto him as he fills and probes you just that little bit deeper beyond comfort. His hands encircle your waist without thinking as you slide him in to the hilt, both of you groaning. He can unfortunately no longer think straight, let alone answer, right this moment. And daddy definitely wanted an answer.

Austin tsks quietly in feigned disappointment, “Cock it is then.”

And that’s how Callum Turner found himself flat on his back with you balancing on his balls and Austin Butler’s heavy cock in his mouth, choking him from time to time, not unpleasantly he’s surprised to find.

“You were so sad when I didn’t make it down your throat last time,” Austin coos over his shoulder as he slowly rides Cal’s face while his perfect, pert ass is manhandled by Chelsea’s finest lad, muffled sounds of god knows what coming from him. Austin has a love/hate relationship with watching you enjoy another dick that much, the least he can do is make you scream his name while you’re at it. Which is why he’s facing you as both of you ride Callum, overwhelming him like ants, the man has no chance of getting back up once he’s been felled. You lean back a little, hands on Cal’s thighs as he pounds you, teasing Austin with a little peek at your swollen clit. It has the intended effect and Austin keeps his slow and steady pace as he bends over to lick you while you ride Cal’s fat cock.

Meanwhile, gurgling noises are emanating from somewhere behind Austin’s shoulder as Callum is literally choking on cock, the bend of it molding perfectly to his throat at this angle, like someone poured playdough down it, heavy balls resting on his nose. Austin shifts again, one hand on your breast and one reaching behind to Cal's throat, massaging, squeezing. And the only thing floating through Callum’s mind as he struggles to draw breath is, “Payback’s a bitch.”

“Do you feel special now, huh? Now that you can’t breathe?” Austin grunts out, relishing the feeling, the noises, the heady rush of being in control.

Something that sounds suspiciously like “Jesus Christ, Austin” flies out of Callum’s mouth but you can’t quite tell because it’s all garbled, almost unintelligible. He’s arguing with a cock down his throat, muffled protests and encouragements. All of the sudden his belly starts to heave in panic, his airflow finally sealed off as Austin presses lower, trying to get Cal to deepthroat him.

“Shhh it’s ok…breathe baby, breathe through your mouth, Cal, not your nose. That will only make it worse.” You pet his belly soothingly as he still gags for a moment. Austin jolts forward, the feeling of Cal gagging on his cock incredible. He grabs your hips, nails digging into your flesh, taking some calming breaths himself, trying to last and not to spurt hot cum down Callum’s throat right now. Cal bucks up into you, swift and firm, but Austin’s got a death grip on your hips, holding you down and that’s just the first orgasm of the night for you.

But Callum Turner is nothing if not resilient, and a multitasker at that. He relaxes his throat, starting to get the hang of things, figuring out how to breathe around a pole stuffed down his windpipe. Good thing he has such a wide mouth, finally came in handy for something. He can both learn how to deepthroat for the first time and knead Austin’s ass and thighs like he’s making sourdough. He’s really getting into the groove now - kneading and slapping, rocking Austin in encouragement to pick up the pace. Which quickly turns Austin’s dominance into a very whiny sort of thing. He can’t quite keep up after a few minutes of Callum’s sweet torture, the balls on his nose no longer a hindrance. Callum is pulling him apart and acting like he’s enjoying himself so much that Austin’s mind goes blankety-blank. When Cal starts smacking at his little ass to encourage him to rut, he loses it.

You watch this change overtake Austin gradually, like sand eroding from a beach, little by little. You can see when he goes from being in charge of “Operation Overwhelm Cal” to being a pretty baby in dire need of cumming. He slowly tips forward, partly to get his cock further into Callum’s throat and partly to face-plant in your ample titties because he’s feeling a lot of feelings at the moment. He’s practically on all fours now, drool dripping down onto Cal’s lower belly and mixing with your wetness already there. His forehead rests between the valley of your breasts as his hips work like an auger down Cal’s throat. You’ve got one hand in his hair and the other on one of your tits as he grabs your hips, urging you to pick up the pace. He can’t take his eyes off of where Callum disappears inside you, again and again, his thick, pale lower belly, everything a blur.

Austin explodes without warning, a strangled cry wrenched from his lips. Cal’s whole body jerks up as he chokes, dislodging Austin onto the bed beside you. He has the forethought to grab a discarded t-shirt lying next to him and spit into it, gasping for breath. You’re still riding him hard, and you’re close again, so close. In the blink of an eye you’re on your back, delicate wrists held together in one of his expansive palms. You hook a leg around his waist and a floodgate opens up. At this new angle he’s hitting the spot that has you shaking apart and coming, little quakes every few seconds. He presses on despite your gasping protests, whispered words of praise and teasing and you can’t tell which is making you come harder - his taunts or his cock. You feel Austin slip a hand between your bodies, one long finger toying with your nipple, sending you over the edge again just as you were recovering. Callum roars, wrecked and rasping, burying his head in the crook of your neck as he finishes, his solid weight crushing you as he collapses onto your chest.

“Roll over, ya big oaf…my hand is…trapped,” Austin says between tugs, trying to extricate himself. Callum turns one, jewel-blue eye on Austin and grins, leaning over to bite his shoulder. Despite Austin’s growled protests and more useless tugging of his trapped hand, there’s a spark in his eyes that wasn’t there before, a certain kind of floaty lightness. It looks good on him.

-

Quiet noises filter through Cal’s brain, like sunlight through a window, slowly and then all at once. The actual sun stays hidden behind blackout curtains, thanks to your thoughtful gesture the night before. Sprawled out on his belly like an overgrown spider, he registers the sound of someone getting ready for the day. Running water, an electric toothbrush, the soft thump of a towel being dropped, the rustle of clothes. He blinks his eyes open slowly, swallowing gingerly. God, his throat feels like it’s on fire! Is it always this way? He groans as he swallows again, trying to get some moisture down to soothe it. He makes a mental note to go a little easier on you next time you have his cock shoved down your windpipe. A movement catches his eye through the cracked bathroom door and he can make out Austin, dressed to the nines and fussing with his hair til he gets it just so. His heart plummets - Austin’s already back on his professional bullshit. Cal opens his mouth to make some comment about the outfit he’s wearing only to have it all squeak out in a cracked voice, the hoarse dig barely audible. That gets a smirk and a raised eyebrow from Austin, he knows where this is coming from.

“Need a cough drop for that throat, bud?” as he buttons his shirt at the wrists, looking at him in the bathroom mirror. “Don’t be salty,” he snickers, trying not to laugh at the gathering storm cloud on Cal’s face.

“That’s a shit pun, Butler,” Callum manages to croak, starting to raise himself up. To do what, he isn’t sure, he only knows he can’t take this lying down. But then you’re giggling somewhere at his back, apparently still in bed with him, going, “Salty, get it?” Your cool hand travels up his freckled skin, soothing his ruffled feathers and urging him to lie back. He flops down again, arms spread wide and rolls over to see you’re still very much entrenched in the bed, fluffy covers held to your chest and hair floating in a halo on the pillow. He’s not going to be alone…or not right away, at least. Austin walks to the foot of the bed, all suave and put together, the woody scent of his cologne hitting your noses and making you both swoon a little, if you’re honest.

“You sleepy heads enjoy your breakfast. And don’t watch without me...or there will be repercussions.” One side of his mouth quirks up, long finger pointed at the two of you as he slips on his sunglasses, looking for all the world like some hottie mob boss. Heat curls in your belly and you have to stop yourself from reaching up and pulling him down to the bed by his open shirt collar.

“And just what are we, your harem?” you say with a pout, stretching your arms above your head, pert nipples peeking out above the covers. His eyes are hidden behind dark lenses but you note with satisfaction the way he swallows hard, leg jiggling slightly, before turning abruptly away and heading for the door.

“Don’t wanna be it, don’t act like it,” he tosses over his shoulder just before the door slams shut.

In the ringing quietness after his exit, you can hear Cal’s raspy breathing and a mildly oppressive feeling of sore melancholy. You roll on your side to fully face him, the crinkle of the sheets loud in the stillness and he turns to you, boyish and expectant. A smirk lights up your face, “How about a bath, Turner? Baby’s first time and all,” you tease, fingers trailing up his collarbone as he pulls you into the crook of his arm.

“Oh fuck off,” he grins, blue eyes shutting, snuggling you closer. He cracks one eye open again, fixing you with a sheepish look. “Could use some pancakes though.”

-

Tags - let us know if you’d like to be added or removed: @oskea93, @softboo, @winniemaywebber, @spiderstyles04, @abswifey, @thegettingbyp2, @blikebarbie92, @missmaywemeetagain, @icedb1ackcoffee, @wildfll0wer, @dilfelvis, @slowsweetlove, @thefallofthedamned, @cherieaustin, @liv-n, @steph-speaks @jelliedonut @elvisabutler, @crazymadpassionatelove @stylespresleyhearted @easy-peezy-squeeze-a-lemon

[snoopyhughes]

I don't know how to feel, but someday I might (qh43)

in which Quinn will do just about anything to help his sweet girl.

This is 2.6k words of Quinn angst/fluff. It involves his girlfriend dealing with hate comments online. There are some hurtful things said about weight and appearances. This is a fem reader, with mentions of wearing makeup and dresses. She/her pronouns are used. Felt a little down lately and wanted to cheer myself up with some sweet Quinn. I hope you all enjoy this <3

There was almost nothing in the world that was easier than loving Quinn Hughes.

With his heart of gold and smile to match it, you found yourself falling in love with him almost instantly. It would have been impossible not to. To know Quinn is to love him. You doubt that there is anyone in the world who has met Quinn and has not been mesmerized by his charm and his raw kindness. Even his toughest opponents and fiercest rivals have nothing but kind things to say about your boy.

You met Quinn three years ago while you were on a girls trip at a rented lake house in Michigan. When you first saw your neighbor for the weekend, you were so caught off guard you tripped over your own feet and spilled your drink all over your feet. Quinn was quick to throw the towel he was holding out of his hands and on to your body to help you clean up the sticky mess that was now covering your body. Never mind the fact that in a house full of lazy boys, there was no other clean towels. It was just what he wanted to do.

Over stumbled apologies and blushing words, you exchanged numbers with Quinn. Neither of you were foolish enough to hide your intentions. At this point, you had both known you were only going to be in town for the weekend, but Quinn did not care, and neither did you. Your intentions were always to continue to talk to Quinn, even after the close proximity was no longer.

And you did. It was months of Facetimes and silly texts, until finally Quinn played a game near your town. Quinn insisted you came, and when you saw him again in the tunnels after the game, you knew you would never be able to move on, and Quinn felt the same way.

The start of the new season found you moving to Vancouver with Quinn. You were able to find a job similar to yours that was only 20 minutes away from Quinn's house. The choice seemed like a no brainer. And if you thought dating Quinn was a gift, nothing could compare to living with him. He was silly and considerate, adventurous and attentive. You found yourself falling in love with him more and more each day.

You were no stranger to Quinn's spotlight. It became more and more apparent to you when you moved to Vancouver. Almost every block had a Canucks fan, Canucks memorabilia, often sporting your boyfriend's face, loud and proud.

You were no stranger to the comments that other girls would make in the stands of Canucks games, or even at the bar while you were tucked right in to Quinn's side. They found Quinn to be as beautiful and as breathtaking as you did, and they paid no mind to the fact that you were hooked on his arm, or wearing his last name across your back, or even sitting with his family. Their intentions were to be with Quinn. They did not find you as a threat. But many made it their intentions to let you know that they were a threat.

You were public on social media, but with hardly any mention of your faceless boyfriend being Quinn Hughes. However, being the captain's girlfriend had automatically put you in the public eye, despite the fact that both you and Quinn tried your hardest to keep it on the down low publicly. It was challenging for Quinn to be in the spotlight at times, even after so long of being in it, and he wanted to make sure he tried his hardest to ensure that that spotlight never graced your wings. There was so much trouble that came with it, trouble that Quinn never wanted to expose you to. Nevertheless, some fans persisted.

"This is what you wear to stand next to the captain of the Vancouver Canucks? Maybe try a little harder next time," a comment had graced your post of your outfit from a Canucks gala. Despite your insistence that Quinn didn't pay for much, it hardly ever worked. Quinn had bought you the most beautiful dress, with a price tag you could not fathom. His insistence was that he saw you eyeing it on social media from a post of a fashion show, and he wanted you to have it.

The dress instantly made you feel beautiful, and Quinn's gaze and charming words made you feel beautiful tenfold. It was almost devastating how that feeling had disappeared so fast, just by the words and actions of a few cruel individuals who had made it their life's mission to tear you down.

Just one comment wouldn't hurt so bad. Unfortunately, there was tens of comments that point out a few flyaways, the creasing of your concealer, the cellulite on your arms, the rolls of your hips. You had tried your hardest not to let them bother you. But it bubbled up inside like a bad stew. When you find the one that hurt the worst, it caused you to sink to a feeling worse than you had ever felt. The comment read: "I don't understand why Quinn would want to be with a fat girl who does not know how to present herself in public. She has no redeeming features."

You tried your hardest to hide the comments from Quinn. You knew he rarely checked social media, so you made a promise to never let him know what they said and how they bothered you. You tried to insist to yourself that it was minuscule, it shouldn't matter. But the state Quinn found you in when he returned from his road trip was nothing but minuscule. It was no position he had ever found you in.

When Quinn FaceTimed you two nights ago after their game in Anaheim, you were wearing one of his Canucks blue t shirts, curled up in bed with your dog. When he walked through your bedroom doors, he found you in the same place, wearing the same t shirt, sporting the same hairstyle. His heart sunk to his toes. Were you hurt? How could he help you? What caused you to get into this state?

When he found you, your eyes were closed, but he knew you weren't sleeping. You had your head intentionally turned towards the wall, so as to not face Quinn. But even without seeing your face, he knew something was seriously wrong. And at that point, all he wanted was to see your beautiful face, to give him a little reassurance as to how you were feeling.

Quinn rounded the corner of the bed, kneeling down on the floor next to your head. "Hi sweetness," he muttered, running his fingers down the slope of your face. "Can I see your eyes, please?" He asked, causing you to shake your head lightly. He hummed at your answer, not wanting to push, but also knowing he had to get to the bottom of this.

"I brought you some takeout, your favorite. I know you have that project due in a few days and I figured you would be hungry." He had left the food on the table downstairs when he walked in to a silent house. No singing to music, no clambering of kitchen cabinets, no playing with the dog, nothing. The silence was eerie to him.

"I'm not," you muttered out in your smallest voice, cracking from lack of use, and even lack of water in your throat. You had a few sips over the last two days, but once it ran out, you couldn't get yourself to fill it. One of the only things you could manage to do the past two days was let the dog out. No matter how bad you were suffering, your sweet dog did not deserve to be punished for that. You let him out in the backyard only, not wanting anyone to see you walking on the sidewalk and be alerted by your state. There were a few other WAGs who lived in yours and Quinn's neighborhood, and at any sight of your despair, you know Quinn would have been alerted immediately.

"I'd like it if you could eat a little bit, though. I'm sure you're hungry, and your voice sounds dry. Can I fill your cup for you?" He posed it as a question, but he intended to fill it regardless of your answer. You shrugged, and Quinn took that as a win. He woke up your dog, assuming he had to go out. He journeyed downstairs and filled your cup. He also just let the dog out in the back, but promised a long walk in the morning. He only hoped you would come. It was something the two of you loved to do, walking the dog together after he came back from road trips.

As Quinn stood outside, the cold air biting at his shoulders, he tried to rack his brain of what could have possibly happened while he was gone. Did he forget something important? Did you miss a deadline? Did something happen at home? Nothing seemed to make sense, even when he tried to make sense of them.

Your dog was nothing if not loyal, so as soon as Quinn opened the door to let him back in, he bolted up the stairs to the bedroom, nosing his way through the door and back on to the bed with you. You put your hands in his fur, hoping to find some comfort in him. Silent tears streamed down your face. You saw the look on Quinn's face when he walked in to you. In a way, you were letting the trolls win even more. Quinn didn't deserve to come home to someone who couldn't get out of bed. At least, that's what the voices in your head were telling you.

Quinn walked quickly back up the stairs, but with less energy than your dog. He set your cup down on the bedside table, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand rubbing your calf over the blankets. He knew at some point you would tell him what's wrong. He didn't want to force it out of you, but at the same time, Quinn had been alerted to the fact that you had not left the bed in days. He was concerned.

Your sniffle gave you away, not pretending to hide. Quinn knew you were struggling, and there was no point in trying to hide your mood. "Why are you crying, lovely? I'd really like to help you, but I'm not sure how," he muttered, leaning in to softly wipe your tears away. "It's nothing, I should be able to handle it by now." you muttered, hinting him to what was wrong without giving away any details.

"Handle what, babe? The roadtrips? I know they're hard. They're hard for me, too. I promise you're not alone in that." Your heart softened at his kind voice, at his genuine concern. Of course the roadtrips were hard, and in a way it helped to know that they were hard for him too, but you knew that wasn't what was bothering you.

You shook your head lightly, curling in further on yourself. At this point, Quinn was even more confused, but he knew that you weren't going to budge. "I'm just gonna get ready for bed, okay sweetheart? We can talk more in a minute," he went to get ready, and also to collect himself and his thoughts.

When he walked into the en suite bathroom, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Brock's girlfriend had texted him. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He had her number for a reason, but they obviously didn't text much individually.

"Hi Quinn, sorry to bother you so late," it started. "I was a bit worried about Y/N these past few days because she went radio silent over the weekend. We were supposed to have plans over the weekend, but she bailed with pretty much no explanation. So I did some digging on social media, and I found some pretty nasty comments on her most recent posts. I know people sometimes make comments to her at games, but these comments are new. I just wanted to let you know in case that was what was bothering her."

Quinn couldn't believe his eyes. These were some of the most hateful things he had ever read. And he had no idea they were saying things at games. He noticed that you started caring more but also less simultaneously somehow. She did much more hair and makeup than usual, while also covering her body entirely, almost drowning herself in her clothes.

Quinn was horrified. How long have you been dealing with this? Why didn't you say anything? Quinn couldn't get back to the bedroom fast enough. He rushed over to the bed, pulling you into a hug immediately. He felt your tears soaking his shirt, and Quinn had tears streaming steadily down his cheeks. "Why didn't you say anything? I'm so sorry, I love you," he whispered into your neck.

"I didn't want to bother you. I thought I should be able to deal with it by now. The jealousy, the mean girls. But it has gotten worse. They've been truly evil. I tried not to let it bother me, but I couldn't help it." You didn't want to remove yourself from Quinn's embrace. It was the first time you felt comfort in days.

"My love, you are never a bother. I'm appalled of these things they're saying, I can't believe you've been dealing with this in silence. No one deserves this, especially not you, my sweet girl." He coaxed you slowly to look him in the eyes, but you were still touching at almost every nerve ending.

"You are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he murmured, running his finger across your cheek. "And above all that, you're kind, loving, caring, empathetic, selfless, giving, and so many other amazing things. You are none of those things they say about you, okay? I'm so sorry, my angel. I know I can't fix it, but I want to. Tomorrow, we're gonna spend the whole day together, okay? And I'm gonna pamper you like you've always deserved. I'm so sorry that you've been going through this. I'm gonna fix it. I'm gonna make a statement, we can limit comments to friends only, make a separate, more private account. Whatever you want, baby. I just want this to be fixed and I want you to be okay. You don't deserve to suffer like this because of some evil, hateful people."

You knew Quinn would be helpful and caring if he ever found out about this, but you never expected all of this. You were exhausted and thrilled just thinking about everything. You had let those hateful people bring you down for so long, now you just wanted to be with your sweet boy.

"Can we do all that tomorrow? I just want to be with you. And I lied, I'm starving, I can smell the food from downstairs and I'm practically salivating," Quinn laughed out loud, causing you to smile for the first time in days. "There's my angel, I love you so much. We can do whatever you want, okay? Anything, my treat. Whatever you want. You deserve that damn food, okay? And everything else in the world, I love you so much."

Tears had begun to stream down your face for a different reason. You couldn't believe how lucky you were to have such a sweet, caring, and thoughtful man to have and to hold.

"I love you, Quinn. Thank you so much," you mumbled with watery eyes. When he leaned in and connected your lips with his, you knew you would get through this. Yes, their words still hurt. It wasn't fixed for good, it wasn't perfect, but you knew as long as you had Quinn by your side, you could make it through anything.

[ibeautyacademy]

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[gotta-winwin]

2019 debut year <> first meetings - maknae line

word count: 2.1k TW: a bit of swearing, cyana is sad for some reason italics are in english and bolded words are in Mandarin this is a continuation from the hyung line fic, so please read that for continuity's sake!

౨ৎ ─── ─── ──౨ৎ─── ─── ──౨ৎ─── ─── ──౨ৎ

MINGHAO:

Although he had been all but ready to make fun of Jun when he was nervous and shy, Minghao found himself suffering just the same as Cyana approached him. Being the final member to meet her officially, he had the gruelling process of waiting as she slowly made her way through members before finally reaching him. "Hi. Nice to meet you, I'm Xu Minghao." He opted for a hug rather than a handshake, smiling when Cyana wrapped her arms comfortably around his waist. Parting, Cyana shot him a bright smile. "I'm so glad you and Jun speak Mandarin. I haven't met anyone besides my parents who knew the language." Minghao was glad to have brought her a sense of comfort. "We're just as happy. It's always nice to meet someone connected to home. Where in China are you from?" "My parents lived in Shenzhen before moving to Vancouver." Minghao's eyes widened and he glanced at Jun, who was lazily stretching, warming up for practice. "Jun's from Shenzhen too." Cyana followed his gaze, frowning when she saw the boy. "He's very quiet." She gathered. Minghao nodded, chuckling. "He's shy around strangers. He'll warm up, don't worry. He was quiet around me too, when we first met." He turned to look at her, studying her before continuing. "You're quiet too though, a little bit." Cyana flushed. "I don't really speak much, yeah. Prefer to listen most times." Honestly, Minghao didn't mind. He enjoyed the peaceful nature that seemed to radiate off her even within the short time they'd met. It was a change from the usual chaotic energy SEVENTEEN oozed of that Minghao accepted gratefully. "If it ever gets too much, Wonwoo and I are usually quieter company. We don't like doing too much outside of work." He didn't miss the way her face soured when he brought up Wonwoo's name. Cyana took his advice and invitation gratefully, promising to tell him if things ever got too much and to come find him whenever necessary. He savoured the look on her face, one of pure innocence and blissful unawareness of the tumultuous waves idol life could be. He distinctly remembered entering Korea with the same wide-eyed look on his own face and made a quiet promise he'd help keep that glow in Cyana's face as long as possible.

DK:

"Hi hi~" DK bounced up to Cyana, shaking her hand vigorously. He had heard Seungcheol's warning in the beginning -- to be calm and not to overwhelm the girl -- but he just had so much excitement to share! This was a day of celebration, having a new member join them, and it irked him a bit that the others were not treating it as such. "I'm Dokyeom, nice to meet you!" He sang, smile widening when Cyana moved to match his energy. "Hi, Dokyeom~" Cyana giggled at the boy's actions, unconsciously matching both his tone delivery and his movements, hands in his as they both jumped with excitement. She found it endearing, how energy seemed to spill out of him uncontrollably. "I wanted it to be a big celebration," He explained, pausing for Joshua to quickly translate. "I was going to order a cake, put up decorations, maybe some gifts-" Cyana protested profusely. "No, no- that's too much work." Deterred from his original train of thought by her sudden Korean, DK cooed, shaking her as he died at how cute it was. "Ah~ so cute!" Cyana blushed, unsure of what to do with the amount of attention DK was giving her. She was also hyperaware of the fact that he was still clutching her hands from before. Noticing how stiff her posture had gotten all of a sudden, DK immediately took a step back, unlatching himself from her and apologizing. Cyana shook her head. "No, no, it's okay. Just caught me off-guard." She sent him a warm smile. "This is nice." She admitted after a pause, enjoying how comfortable she was around him. She felt as if she had known Dokyeom for ages. DK sent back a blazing smile of his own. "Yes." He agreed happily, "So nice. So amazing. So unbelie-bubble." Cyana let out a loud laugh, startling everyone, including herself. It had been the loudest sound she'd made since entering the room. DK grinned, proud. Her laugh was really pretty, he realized. It made him want to make her laugh again just to hear it, to bathe in the warmth of it. Hell, he'd bottle it up if he could.

MINGYU:

Mingyu knew Wonwoo was hiding behind him. A coward, he mused, as he watched Cyana make her way slowly towards them. He couldn't understand why so many of them were nervous to meet her, Cyana was just a girl like so many others they had met before. "Hello~ I'm Mingyu." He opened his arms tentatively for a hug and felt both pride and relief when she had accepted. Okay, maybe he was a little nervous. He was scared she'd find him intimidating because of his sheer height and size. "You're- so tiny." He said, gesturing with his hand how short she was compared to him. Cyana gave him a look. "We've only just met and you're making fun of my height?" Mingyu spluttered, backtracking. "I- um." He pointed wordlessly at a cackling Vernon. "He teach me- to say." Vernon had insisted the line would be a good icebreaker. Now she seemed more amused then offended. "Ah~ I see. It's okay, I was only joking. You are very tall." He nodded, agreeing. "Yes. The most tall." He thought she seemed quite impressed by it all. "Your English is good!" She complimented, happy that they were able to carry a decent conversation on their own. He grinned. "Practice." He pointed at Vernon again. "Vernon." Cyana smiled. He liked making her smile, it brightened her face and the hint of sadness within her eyes disappeared when she did. Mingyu wondered what on earth could have made her so sad so early in the morning, but figured they were not close enough to directly ask. He didn't really know how to say all that in English anyways.

SEUNGKWAN:

Seungkwan found it both a bit endearing and amusing, the way Cyana was following behind him as they toured SEVENTEEN's floor. He likened her to a confused and intrigued cat, running her hands across the wall as he led her down the hallway towards the main lobby. Her eyes shone, and she was listening with full attentiveness at whatever he was saying. "This is- uh, recording studio, three recording studio, here." He pointed to the hallway to the left of them. "And here-" he paused, doing his best to recall the English word for 주방. "Here is kitchen. Eating~" He mimed eating food as Cyana nodded. He'd noticed that Cyana was very quiet and only ever talked if it was to answer a question. He didn't mind of course, many members had been like that too when they'd first met, but it confused him why a child actor would be so shy. "You are actor?" He asked, stopping in the lobby to get her response. He could almost feel the shift in the atmosphere the moment he asked the question. Cyana's shoulders tensed and she nodded. "In LA, yes." "That's cool." He offered lamely, not really knowing what else to say. Getting the sense that she didn't want to talk about the topic, Seungkwan gestured over to the large screen that overtook one of the lobby walls, currently displaying scenes from SEVENTEEN's music videos. "Seventeen." He said, still at a loss of words. It was rare for him not to know what to say, he prided himself in being good at filling silences, but this particular silence felt heavy and sad. He glanced at Cyana, who had her neck craned up as she watched the bright screen flash. The lights reflected against her irises and Seungkwan could swear she was holding back tears. Perhaps it was the homesickness, he deduced, scolding himself for bringing up her acting career. She had probably found it hard to leave everything behind. She turned to him and the heavy silence was gone. "These are all you guys?" She asked, pointing at the screen. Seungkwan nodded. "You guys are amazing." She marvelled. "So synchronized and captivating." "You." He pointed at the screen, having only understood the first compliment. "Soon." She smiled ruefully. "Hopefully. I wouldn't want to let you guys down." He wanted to let her know that he was sure the company had told her that everything was on her shoulders and that their success depended solely on her but the members wouldn't think that way. They'd all been there before, moments before debut and wondering if they'd somehow fail and disappoint the others. He wanted to tell her not to think like that. That she should be performing and working hard for herself and not because she had to. If he could say it in Korean and have her understand, he would have.

VERNON:

"Wassup, I'm Vernon." He shook Cyana's hand, confused when the girl seemed to be fixated on his face. "Is there something on my face?" He asked, reaching up to pat it. Cyana blinked out of her stupor. "Sorry. No, it's just-" She pointed at his sunglasses. "Why are you wearing sunglasses indoors?" "Oh." He took them off sheepishly. "I don't really know." Cyana let out a tiny laugh, gesturing for him to put them back on. "Keep them on, I didn't mean it in a judgemental way." Vernon placed them back on and Cyana couldn't help but laugh at how he seemed to just listen to her without thinking. Maybe it was the tie-dye tshirt or the terribly ripped jeans as well, but Vernon just seemed like a walking meme to Cyana and she found it incredibly funny. "Well, now I just feel like you're laughing at me." Vernon complained, although he was sporting a similar grin. Cyana shook her head, still laughing. "No, no, I swear I'm not." "Don't lie~ You so are." Vernon found that he liked the easy banter that seemed to flow seamlessly between them, realizing just how fast they seemed to click. "No, I'm laughing with you, not at you." "Right. You're going to tell me you actually enjoyed watching Birdbox next." Cyana's jaw dropped. "I actually really hate Birdbox." Vernon's eyes lit up. He'd tried using that line once on Joshua before, but the older boy hadn't understood what Vernon was getting at. "No fucking way." Vernon couldn't contain his excitement. "No one ever gets that reference." "You watch movies too then?" She asked, smiling when he said yes. If Seungcheol hadn't called everyone in for a group huddle before practice, Vernon would've whipped out his letterboxd to compare with hers right then and there. As if having a new member couldn't get any better.

DINO

Dino thrummed with anticipation as he patiently waited for his turn to speak with Cyana. She was really pretty, Dino observed, and she was really shy too. She seemed to interact with most of his hyungs with a sort of apprehension, as if secretly a little bit terrified. Dino couldn't blame her. He supposed they probably did look a little terrifying, all 13 of them when there was just 1 of her. "Hello~" He said, nervous when she approached him. "I'm Dino. And Chan. We're same, uh- old? age. Same age." His ears turned pink at his little stumble. Thankfully, Cyana didn't react to his mistake. "Really?" She said instead, lighting up. "I didn't know that. I've always wanted a friend my age." He thought for a little bit before replying. "Me too." He gave her a bright smile, praying that it'd make up for his poor English. Something about the fact that they were both the same age seemed to have soothed Cyana, as she took a step closer to Dino and held at her phone. "I- um, could you," She flushed as she tried to explain. "do you have the wifi?" Dino's shoulders relaxed, thankful it was a question he could answer. Taking the phone, he recognized her wallpaper to be a view of the Han River. Upon pointing it out, Cyana explained that she had passed by it on her way here and had fallen in love with how peaceful the waters were. He could understand what she meant. He often visited the Han River just to watch the current when he was a trainee. It served as a way to both relax and clear his mind. Handing the phone back, now connected to wifi, he mustered up the courage to ask her something before she could leave to say hi to someone else. "I- Han River. We can go, uh- together?" Cyana smiled and nodded. "Of course."

author's note: thank you so much for reading! thank you for all the love you've given this series and i'll be updating as much as possible. i've fallen in love with this universe and cyana lol.

[laurenairay]

Baking traditions - Q.Hughes

Summary: Noticing that you’re homesick, Quinn makes sure to include some of your autumn traditions.

The second of my Autumn & Halloween blurbs! How could I resist this slice of domestic life with Quinn?

Word Count: 778 words

Tagging: @fallinallincurls @starshine-hockey-girl @lam-ila @kurlyteuvo @tonyspep

@cixrosie

~

“Babe? What’s all this?”

When you’d gotten home from work that evening, you hadn’t expected your kitchen counters to be covered with ingredients.

Your boyfriend just smiled a little sheepishly, but shrugged innocently.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Quinn said simply.

“When congratulations, I’m surprised,” you mused.

Quinn just laughed, cheeks a little pink with blush as he leaned down to kiss you in greeting.

“Hey,” he murmured.

“Hey yourself,” you murmured back.

He smiled sweetly, pecking your lips in another kiss before standing upright again.

“I know you’ve been missing home…”

Well that was blunt. Quinn wasn’t wrong though. You’d moved to Vancouver to live with Quinn and take your relationship to the next level only six months ago – and while everything had been fairytale-levels of amazing, that didn’t mean there weren’t stumbling blocks. Like your homesickness, that you’d thought you’d done a good job of hiding.

“…and I just wanted to do something to cheer you up. I called your mom, and she said that you love baking in the Autumn, like all the spices and stuff are your favourite, so I thought maybe we could bake together?”

His voice trailed off in a hopeful embarrassment, but it was all you could do not to cry. This man. How were you gifted a man like this? Quinn noticed the tears in your eyes and immediately groaned.

“You hate it. This is making your homesickness even worse. I’m so dumb, I’m sorry, I-”

“Quinn, no, you’re not dumb at all. You’re the sweetest man ever. I love this idea,” you interrupted, laughing a little watery with a big smile.

The relief that spread across his face was immediate and dramatic.

“Really?” he asked.

“Really really,” you nodded, “What are we making?”

“I thought we’d try something easy? Chocolate chip pumpkin banana bread?” he said, “I found a recipe online that looked okay and I double checked with your mom too.”

So sweet.

“That sounds amazing, Quinn. Are we baking now?”

“It takes an hour to bake in the oven so I figured we could order take out now and eat dinner while we wait for the banana bread to cook?” he suggested.

Your man with a plan.

“That sounds great to me, baby, thank you. I’ll get changed out of my work clothes and we can start?”

“I’ll order dinner while you get changed,” he added, smiling.

In no time at all you were back in the kitchen in comfy sweats and an old t-shirt, take-out order being processed, while Quinn scrolled through his ipad for the recipe he saved.

“Okay, so first off, we’ve got to mash all these bananas. Shall I do that while you measure out the dry ingredients?”

You nodded, smiling up at him as you reached for a mixing bowl he’d already put on the kitchen counter. You whisked together the flour, pumpkin pie spice, cinnamon, dark chocolate chips, baking soda, baking powder & salt, and after mashing the bananas, in a separate mixing bowl Quinn whisked together the oil, sugars, eggs & vanilla extract until no lumps remained.

“That’s lump free, right?” he frowned, peering down into his bowl.

You glanced over and nodded. “Yeah that looks great baby.”

Quinn beamed back at you.

“Now we’ve just to combine the bananas into my bowl with a cup of pumpkin puree, before carefully stirring your dry ingredients mix into my bowl too,” he explained.

Somehow the two of you managed all of that without making too much mess.

“Last step is pouring it into the lined loaf cake tin and baking it for an hour. I already pre-heated the oven so we should be good to go?”

After you’d combined all the ingredients, Quinn’s face was as serious as you’d ever seen it as he carefully carried the loaf tin over to your oven, and you tried to hide your smile as you opened the oven for him.

He really cared, didn’t he? He cared so much.

“I’ll set a timer for an hour. I don’t want it to get burnt,” he frowned.

“It’s going to be amazing, I already know,” you said softly, resting a hand on his chest.

His frown softened to a sweet smile. “I just want this to be good for you.”

“The fact that we did this together is what made this good for me. The cake itself is an added bonus,” you said, smiling up at him.

A light blush spread across his cheeks and he nodded, sliding his arms around your waist to hold you closer to him.

“As long as you’re happy, I’m happy,” he said warmly.

“With you, how can I not be?”