#my quinny<3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[amoureuxsys]

i saw a post that said “bfs with total opposite aesthetics but similar personalities” and that’s exactly me and my bf and it made me get all jumpy and excited BECAUSE I LOVE MY BF SO SO MUCH

(also if anyone can find the post send it to me pls)

[becca-e-barnes]

Ok but what about submissive!dbf!bucky with a praise kink? Maybe one found accidentally? In the drabble where the reader wanted to say he was beautiful, what if she does and he just moans?? What if the word the reader is looking for is pretty? Imagine calling an older man pretty and he nearly finishes just from that?

Back to my current favourite, submissive!dbf!bucky bc I can't get enough of him rn, I have so much I want to talk about

Because ohhhh, I love the thought of him being so totally obsessed with going down on you, to the point that he'd almost do anything just for a taste of you.

And maybe he'd seen you in a pretty little dress at a get-together at your house. Maybe a birthday party or something. You had both been keeping up appearances, pretending nothing is going on between you because he's your father's best friend but he'd taken the risk and approached you, leaning over and whispering in your ear. "Next time I get you alone, I'm going to lick from your ankle to your cunt." That's all he says, his hand rests on your lower back and you barely feel the heat of it through your dress before it's gone again. God, you hope that's a promise.

Of course it is. As soon as he gets a chance to sneak away from everyone else the two of you are tiptoeing up the stairs to your bedroom. After a fierce few minutes of intensely making out, he's laid you gently onto the bed, pushing the skirt of your dress out of the way. He doesn't waste a second, his lips on the inside of your ankle, humming contently as he kisses his way up the expanse of bare skin.

For a man who's kissed every inch of your body, he never seems to get tired of it. His slight scruff scratches your skin and it's lovely to be reminded of how intensely he's worshipping your body.

"You look. So. Fucking. Breathtaking." The words are muffled against your skin, his lips trailing hungry kisses up to your knee. One of his hands holds your leg, keeping you still while the other slips higher under your skirt.

You brace yourself for the groan you know he's going to grace you with and when it comes, it doesn't disappoint. The fingertips of his index and pointer finger trail lazily across your bare sex, gliding easily thanks to the evidence of your arousal.

"No panties?" His fingers keep teasing you, trailing from your fluttering entrance to your clit and back again, giving himself time to decide where he wants to start.

"I took them off after you told me your plan and so far you've let me down." If this were any other night, he'd probably tell you to watch your mouth before he fills it but tonight is not that night. Tonight he's desperate to taste you; to walk back down those stairs, look you in the eyes for the rest of the evening, knowing he made you cum against his mouth and no one else in the room can tell. Then jerk off to the memory tonight when he's back in his own bed.

He wastes no more time after that, flattening his tongue against your ankle and purposefully trailing it up your leg to your knee, then on up your thigh. At the same time, he eases his two fingers inside you, curling them against the soft, velvety wall of your cunt.

You hold the skirt of your dress out of the way so you can see him latch his mouth onto your clit, sucking gently and flicking his tongue while he curls his fingers inside you.

This is fucking magical. You know his mouth is flooded with the taste of you, your fingers tangled in his hair to keep his mouth pressed against you. "Fuck, that's perfect." It's the only way to describe the sensation of his mouth and fingers working you in tandem.

He's lost in it. His eyes are closed in concentration, determined to give you what you need. He needs to please you and it's not a need you've instilled in him. It's one he's always had.

"You're so pretty, do you know that?" It's bouncing around in your head and you feel like you need to say it.

He groans against your sex and you don't think anything of it until he mumbles "Please don't call me that. Not right now." His fingers work you faster but your hazy, pleasure addled brain still manages to ask him why.

" 'Cause sweetheart, I don't want to cum in these trousers. I don't have a change of clothes. Didn't even know I was into that." He sounds smaller, almost pleading with you, palming his cock through his dark jeans.

"But you're gorgeous, Buck. You have no idea how pretty you are with your head between my legs." The moan he emits is so rewarding you swear you could get off on that alone, never mind his renewed need to make you finish quickly before you get him to a point of desperation.

[yantao-enthusiast]

i’ve come to the conclusion after watching heartbreak high, that personally i will forgive and defend characters for being unhinged and insane (rowan) or even just cunts if they have redeemable qualities (probably most of the cast but particularly amerie and harper and yes spider too now) but i will NOT stand characters that are fucking annoying (sasha ,,, srsly my girl quinni did NOT deserve that!!!!)

[calicocritterz4u]

Actually, listening to Hozier and eating cinnamon toast and drinking iced coffee while I fantasize abt living in hyrule IS therapy, so jot that down

[booksandpaperss]

Quinni literally seems like such an amazing girlfriend I would treat her so much better than Sasha did

[cuteflowermination]

I haven't posted any art in a bit, however I have decided to revamp some of my old oc sprites from a while ago!

Former friends turned enemies, but a lil spruced up! edit: forgot to add a comparison image when I first posted; putting it under "Keep Reading"

Quinny benefits from the touch-ups most tbh lol

[conanssummerchild]

I was born on 3/3/5:D

ALSO LOVE YOUR NEW THEME ARO VIBES ON POINT

OH MY GOD WTF THATS SO COOL YAY (fav numbers for my fav sister fr)

THANK U hdjsjs <33

[t4toro]

can we PLEASE talk about this clip of zachary quinto

[maroonangels]

guys when I say I’m a spider apologist I don’t actually condone his actions. or not like 98% of them. he’s just who my autism has decided to latch on to and now I have seven unfinished wips picking him apart like a frog in science class

[thecoddaughter]

The amount of life series fans and dnd fans makes my heart happy cuz I was just thinking of the concept of a campaign (be it dnd or another system) run like the life games. I could have watcher like lore, only downside is I love RP centric games and pvp stresses me out, so if I do it in a Kids On sort of game it could be more mystery type deal…

[quinnactually]

[aspengrown]

i don’t know why i don’t wanna get better /

i wanna stay the same /

and i say that i’ll figure it out once /

all my songs are sang

[quinnysnursery]

you should do an informational post on caring for neurodivergent and/or chronically ill littles!!

caring for neurodivergent and chronically ill littles ! [a guide]

written by a neurodivergent little and a caregiver to a chronically ill little <3

[it should be noted that everyone experiences different symptoms/has different needs; i'll be focusing on sensory issues and chronic pain in this guide]

Be understanding !

It's important to remember for both caregivers and regressors that while something's may not make sense to us- that doesn't mean you can't be understanding.

You might not be able to feel the difference in fabric textures but your little/cg can.

Your legs might not hurt after walking short distances, but your little/cg's might.

These are real experiences your little/cg may deal with that you will have to be understanding of.

There may be times where your little/cg cannot play and need to rest, or times where games may need to be modified to ensure both of you have fun playing- reassure your little/cg that they are not burdens for needing accommodations !

Get creative !

"But Quinny, how can I make accommodations for my little/cg?!"

I'm glad you asked!! For neurodivergent littles/cgs, you may want to take extra time explaining the rules of a game or turning down the volume of shows/movies!

For chronically ill littles/cgs, low-movement activities such as arts 'n crafts or cozy pillow forts.

[There is a really great post by @mortuarymorticia about chronically ill carers that you can find, here!]

Be patient !

Flare-ups/Bad sensory days can lead to fussy littles.

Flare-ups/Bad sensory days can lead to caregivers needing breaks.

These are both okay! It's important to listen to each other's needs and limits; healthy cg/little dynamics work together to find compromises.

Tips & Tricks !

Finding dolls/books/toys with disbaility inclusive storylines/characters/features can do wonders!

Keeping fun/cute water bottles or sippy cups nearby! [Bonus points if you have some liquid IV on hand -- or just a electrolyte drink in general]

Mobiles are great for kiddos who need lotsa bed-rest!!

being chronically ill/disabled/neurodivergent does not make you a bad regressor/caregiver <3

[dividers creds to @softandsleepyboy]

-- with sparkles and love,

quinny 💌

[capquinn]

waking up the morning after a roadie and not expecting quinn to be there and then he IS (shocking ik) and just cuddling in the morning is my dream truly. okay bye

ahhhhhhh sleepy, lovey quinny is such a dream. i could write about soft mornings with him forever. hope you enjoy! <3

It’s the warmth that wakes you first, a slow, creeping comfort that feels familiar. The cotton beneath your cheek carries the faint, clean scent of his detergent, and there’s no mistaking the weight of his arm draped over you, his hand resting just beneath the hem of your t-shirt, his palm splayed warm and steady against the small of your back, like it always was. You don’t need to open your eyes to know it’s him. You’d know it anywhere — the soft trace of his shampoo lingering on his skin, the way his chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm under your fingertips.

He's home.

A soft smile tugs at your lips as you nuzzle further into him, the fabric of his shirt brushing against your cheek as you sink into the feeling of him, solid and warm beneath you. He stirs slightly at your movement, a low hum slipping from his throat, and his arm tightens around you instinctively, like he’s pulling you closer even in his half-asleep state.

“You’re home,” you mumble, your voice muffled against his chest, lazy and full of contentment.

“Mmhm,” he hums, the sound barely more than a breath. His lips brush against your hair in a soft, barely-there kiss, and you can feel the faintest curve of his smile. “Got in late. Didn’t want to wake you.”

“You should’ve,” you murmur softly, your voice thick with sleep as you tilt your head just enough to nuzzle your nose against the base of his neck. The motion earns another low hum from him, this one deeper, pleased, as his hand begins to move, slow and lazy, brushing soothing patterns against your back.

“I missed you,” you add, the words barely above a whisper, heavy with the weight of two weeks apart.

Quinn shifts slightly beneath you, his chin resting lightly on the top of your head, tightening his hold on you like he’s trying to erase the distance all at once. His voice is still thick with sleep, rasping softly as he replies, “missed you too.”

His hand moves from your back to tangle gently in your hair, his fingers brushing against your scalp in slow, comforting strokes. The motion is unhurried, each touch lingering as if he’s savouring the quiet moment just as much as you are. You sigh against him, your body melting further into his, and it feels like every ache of the past two weeks apart is fading into the warmth of him now.

“Two weeks felt like forever this time,” you murmur into the cotton of his shirt, the fabric muffling your words but not the emotion behind them.

“Yeah,” he murmurs back, voice low and a little rough. “Hated it.”

His lips brush against your hair again, firmer this time, lingering. Neither of you says anything for a while after that, content to stay tangled together in the quiet. His breathing evens out, steady and soothing, and you close your eyes, tracing small, absent minded patterns on his chest with your fingertips.

Eventually, you tilt your head back to look up at him, his features softened by the golden morning light spilling into the room. For a moment, you think he might’ve fallen back asleep — his lashes resting against his cheeks, his breathing slow. But then, his lips twitch into the faintest smile, and he brushes his nose against yours.

“You’re staring,” he murmurs, his voice low and edged with a sleepy rasp.

A small smile tugs at your lips, and you let out a soft laugh, your fingers stilling against his chest for just a moment. “Just… happy you’re here.”

His eyes remain closed and he stays quiet, but his actions say everything — his nose brushes against yours again, his breath fanning against your skin, and you sink into him, leaning in to press a featherlight kiss to his lips. When you start to pull away, he hums softly, the sound low and content, his hand lingering, and with the faintest nudge, he guides your face back toward his. His lips meet yours again, this time slower, deeper, unhurried, like he has all the time in the world to lose himself in you.

When he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, you stay there for a moment, eyes closed, breaths mingling in the soft morning light. His fingers remain tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing idly along your temple as if to say, stay here, don’t move.

And for a moment, the silence stretches, filled with nothing but the soft rhythm of your breaths and the warmth of his thumb moving gently against your skin. His lips hover close, like he’s still debating whether to steal another kiss, but instead, he finally breaks the quiet.

“Missed this,” he murmurs, voice all sleep-rough.

“Hmm?” you hum softly, your hand finding its way to his jaw, your thumb grazing over the stubble there.

“Waking up with you,” he says, his tone so gentle it’s almost shy, like admitting it out loud might make it too real. His hand trails lazily up your back, his palm flattening between your shoulder blades as he tugs you closer. “Been counting the days.”

You smile against him, your nose brushing his cheek. “I didn’t think you’d be back until later.”

“Just wanted to come home,” he admits, his lips curving faintly.

Your heart flips at the quiet sincerity in his words, and you lean closer, your lips ghosting over the corner of his mouth in response.

“Should’ve woken me,” you say again softly, not as a reprimand but as a quiet confession, a small ache for the hours you missed.

“Wanted to,” he replies, his hand slipping back to cradle your head again, his fingers threading gently through your hair. “But you looked so peaceful. Didn’t have the heart.”

You huff a quiet laugh, tilting your head back just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes are still heavy with sleep, but there’s a warmth there, a quiet adoration that makes you melt.

“Next time, wake me,” you murmur. “I’ll forgive you, promise.”

[nereidprinc3ss]

Happy 2k babe! I have a request for fluffy Spencer smut based on the song "touch tank" by Quinnie! (the song gives me like golden retriever vibes so maybe you could put something about reader playing with his hair in there? I don't know I'm having later seasons fluffy hair Spencer brainrot and I never make requests, obviously feel free to ignore or change things if this is too specific! <3)

hi angel babe!!! i love this song!! and i too am always having later seasons fluffy haired spencer brainrot!! i wrote this super quick, please let me know if its any good, ILY!!! xo

warnings/tags: fem!reader, softdom!spence, sub reader, fingering, oral f receiving, sorta kinda overstimulation, implicit consent, praise n stuff, not proofread, written at 9 pm on a tuesday night, so fluffy

18+ (smut)

-------------------------------

Spencer is clearly almost asleep on the couch next to you. That’s one of many things you find endlessly fascinating and charming about him—his ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time within minutes. 

So you probably shouldn’t speak. But the stakes are low; it’s barely 7:30 in the evening. 

“Spence?” You whisper. His eyes don’t open, but his thumb goes back to making little passes where it’s settled over your hip. 

“Hm?”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

He smiles, slight but beautiful—yet his eyes remain stubbornly closed. 

“Why not?” 

“’Cause I want you to be awake.” 

“Then you can’t keep playing with my hair like that.”

You pout as if he can see you.

“But I like playing with your hair.”

Spencer hums, and you can tell you’re losing him again as you continue carding your hand through stupidly soft locks. 

“One or the other. You can’t have both.”

“I love you both, though,” you complain. “I don’t know who to pick.”

The grin has been steadily fading from his relaxed face but it flickers back to life for a moment. 

“I’m getting a haircut tomorrow. That should make it easier for you.”

“What?”

It’s the genuine horror in your voice that finally gets him to open his eyes. A little line appears between his brows as he regards you with bleary eyes. 

“What what?”

“You didn’t consult me!”

The momentarily tensed muscles in his face relax and he rolls his eyes affectionately before craning his neck to kiss your forehead. 

“I’m not in the habit of requesting your approval before I make choices like that.”

“Spencer, please don’t cut your hair,” you beg, genuinely distraught. “You can’t. It’s so so pretty.”

“It’s too long, baby. I don’t want to grow it out again.”

“You don’t have to grow it out! Just don’t get it any shorter! It’s perfect how it is,” you insist. Spencer narrows his eyes as you plead with him. But you stand firm in your position. His hair is sort of shaggy, sure—too long to be considered cropped and too short to be considered long. It’s like a beautiful curly halo and it’s perfect playing-with length. “I’m serious. I’m asking you to not cut it short, please. This is what I want for my birthday.”

“Your birthday’s not even—”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top? I love your hair so much and I love you more but I just really don’t want you to cut it, please—”

He’s laughing when he silences you with a soft kiss, and you melt, sighing against him as his hand slides up and down the back of your thigh. When he knows you’ve been sufficiently soothed, he pulls away, still smiling. 

“Oh my god, baby—are you about to cry?”

“Stop!” you whine, burying your face into a throw pillow and screwing your eyes shut. Your nose crinkles up with embarrassment. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and though he’s no longer outright laughing, traces of humor still color his lowered voice as he kisses all over the side of your face.  “I had no idea you felt that way. I didn’t realize I’d be causing you so much emotional distress if I cut my hair.”

You sniffle away any unfortunate emotional reactions and turn your head back to him. He’s ducked down slightly, still peppering kisses over your jaw and neck, and you lace your fingers through the contentious hair. 

“Obviously I’m not the boss of you. If it makes you uncomfortable I want you to cut it. But I really like it how it is.”

He hums against your throat and the vibrations send a chill down your spine. You arch against him unconsciously. 

“You are definitely the boss of me. I don’t know anyone else who I like receiving orders from so much.”

“Hotch,” you whisper, and you can feel Spencer’s teeth against your neck as he smiles and presses another loving kiss to the sensitive spot above your collarbone. 

“Not the kind of orders I was talking about. And I don’t particularly care what Hotch thinks of my hair, honey.” He kisses tenderly until he earns a tiny whimper from you—which sates him enough to raise his head until you’re eye-level again. His hand, however, has other plans—it creeps south, slipping under the waistband of your pajama pants. “What if we compromise? I just get it trimmed so it doesn’t keep getting in my eyes when I have a loaded gun in my hands, yeah?” You nod dutifully, looping your arms around his neck as his fingers dip beneath your underwear. When you don’t reply verbally, he prompts meaningfully, “okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, voice small as you look into his searching eyes. 

For a few moments, when he finally pushes his fingers against your clit and begins rubbing with slow, gentle strokes, his eyes are everywhere on your face—then they focus back on your eyes, watching with that habitually intense interest permeated with a sense of devotion—like he wants to see exactly what pleasure looks like reflected in your irises. Like he could see through them to your brain and watch your dopamine transmitters working overtime. A soft moan escapes through parted lips, which seems to spur Spencer on. He drags more arousal over your aching bud and openly chuckles at your airy sigh of pleasure, unable to resist from giving you a short kiss. 

“Feels good?”

“Mhm,” you breathe. 

“Mhm,” he agrees, kissing you again just as quickly before pulling back to study your face once more. “Pretty girl.”

“You’re pretty,” you insist, with what little brain power is available to you as you rake one hand through his hair. He smiles, eyes pinging between your own and your mouth like he can’t decide where to look.  

“I’m pretty?” he asks, speaking over another quiet, yet unabashed moan. You nod, hips bucking slightly off the couch cushion as he speed up the motion of his hand. The grin widens and his soft amber eyes soften further. “You’re so sweet.”

You give him a moan he can’t ignore and he takes it as a signal to slip two fingers into you, sighing in what sounds like relief just as your breath catches. The way he seems to feel your pleasure will never get less erotic. Once he’d explained it—something to do with mirror neurons—but whatever the reason, watching the way his arousal rises with yours is exhilarating. 

A squeaking sound is expelled from your lungs and your whole body tenses, propelling you maybe an inch upward involuntarily. 

His lips part the same as yours—but only allowing another dry laugh to pass between them. 

“Relax. I’ll come to you.”

You hum as he leans down and kisses you back into the pillow—a proper kiss, this time, lips parted and the tip of his tongue grazing yours—all the while, still pumping his fingers much deeper than your own could ever manage. Each moan and gasp he allows you to release freely, only barely parting from your lips every few seconds to let you breathe and make your noises. When his fingers begin pumping faster, and you can hear it, you whine, knees clamping shut as the small of your back jumps away from the couch. 

“Fuck,” you pant against his lips. 

“Need you to keep your legs open, baby,” Spencer reminds you gently, giving you a peck and a moment to relax as his hand stills. 

“I don’t think I can,” you admit shyly, still wriggling. “Um, can you—can you use your mouth, please?”

Your boyfriend chuckles again and your cheeks get warmer. Momentarily you allow yourself to be grateful that his face is pressed too close to your own for him to be really be looking at you. 

“You still have to keep your legs apart for that.”

“I know. It’s easier when—when you’re not inside.”

The smile in Spencer’s voice when he replies gives you butterflies as if he’s not knuckle deep in you already. 

“I bet you think that’s true.”

“It is!” you whine. 

“You’ve never had your thighs wrapped around your head so tightly your ears pop, have you?”

“That did not happen.”

“Only once,” Spencer reassures you. “And I happen to like your thighs. So no harm done. Go lie down on the bed.”

You let out a small chirp as he withdraws his fingers from you and your waistband snaps back into place against your skin. 

“Where are you going?” you ask suspiciously, once you’re on semi-steady feet and watching him rise from the couch too. At once he kisses your forehead and grabs your ass—the contrast is dizzying. 

“To wash my hands,” he says, popping the fingers that were just in you into his mouth like a preliminary clean up. “Go,” he urges, jutting his chin in the direction of the bedroom door. You hang from him just a second longer, biting back a smile, before tearing yourself away and only half-skipping to the bedroom. 

Only a moment or two after you flop joyfully down on the mattress, he appears in the doorway again, immediately noticing the way you’re practically vibrating with excitement and unable to hide your grin as he approaches. It seems the smile is contagious—he’s sporting one of his own as he climbs over you. 

“You’re adorable,” he murmurs toothily, kissing you once and then speaking again, “I love you so much.”

It’s exactly the kind of thing that makes you feel all soft and shy and giddy and speechless—even as he gives you one more parting kiss and then is sitting up to slide your pants off. 

Maybe even especially then. 

The sweetness dissipates only a little, still hanging thick in the air as you kick your bottoms off, and he leans back down, pushing your shirt over your chest and pressing kisses to your ribs and down your tummy. He doesn’t waste much time, only taking one brief detour to suck a mark and sink his teeth into your inner thigh until your breath catches loud enough to appease him. Then it’s all easy—his cool fingertips trailing up and down the backs of your thighs as he kisses all over and around your core. Intimacy with Spencer is definitely a spectrum, and while you can always feel the depth of his love for you in every touch, right now it’s so tangible, so potent you can feel it in your teeth. 

You coo when one of the kisses finally sticks, lacing your fingers through the hair you love so much and pushing it out of the way as he laps gently at you. He looks as beautiful as always in the golden hour light as it filters through the window, but you’ve always thought he’s just that extra bit prettier when he’s eating you out. 

Visually you’re entranced—it’s only when he begins easing you into the deep end with the flicking of his tongue that your brow knits and you gasp. 

“Spencer,” you whisper, and it melds into a louder gasp. “Baby.”

He hums into you, reaching around your thigh to grab one of your wrists. You allow him to drag your hand from his hair and intertwine your fingers, his hand on top of yours, pressing them against your stomach where he sweeps his thumb back and forth over your knuckles.

The display of tenderness only makes you ache deeper in your belly, singing in airy, open-mouthed praise for him with a moan you know he would describe as pretty. Spencer says things like that often. He always talks about you like you’re an art form. When it comes to talking about touching you, he’s especially poetic. 

When he begins to suckle, your moans get a little more explicit. 

But he likes those ones just fine, too.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, though it’s a little choked, as you writhe just slightly against him. “That’s so good—oh my god.”

The hand that’s not holding yours rapidly changes position—pressing your thigh to the side with his elbow while he slips his fingers inside you once more. 

At that, you really do choke, your body attempting to sit bolt upright but set off balance by the way your hips buck. You moan, loud, lilting, head still lifted to watch as he begins fucking you with his fingers. Your fingers brush through his hair several times before you’re anchoring your hand in it and falling back. 

“Wh—please, baby, I can’t—”

But you can, and you both know it. You always do this; your body sends you signs that you’re over-indulging and fights to escape the stimuli and Spencer has learned to recognize your false flags for what they are. His hand speeds up along with his tongue and you cry out again, fighting to keep your legs open and your hips on the bed as every nerve in your body seems to light up neon. 

“Oh—Spencer I’m gonna come,” you warn, all high pitched and synthesized into one word. He simply hums a long mhm in acknowledgment, and decides at that moment to brush his fingers over that spot inside of you which proves to be exactly the right button to trigger your detonation. 

You can’t help the way you twist then as your orgasm washes you out—jaw dropped as your final keen starts loud, sputters into silence, and melts into an exhausted whine as your hips wind down. Spencer (wisely) adjusts his position, letting go of your hand only so he can sit up as your thighs clamp shut hard. But he’s still pumping his fingers as you writhe, his own mouth hanging open and groaning as you mewl. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, ready to beg him to stop—but as usual, he knows your body better than you do. An orgasm that you had thought was on its way out gets a second life and you can’t even breathe as you feel it so deep within you, pinpointed to one spot of focus, that you have to curl in on yourself, keeling onto your side because it’s simply too intense. 

Either your vision goes black or your eyes are simply closed—regardless, time ceases for an unquantifiable moment, and you come to with Spencer rubbing your back and murmuring your name. 

“What did I do to you?” he laughs, not unkindly.  

Your back arches as mild aftershocks trickle through your system. 

“I don’t know,” you slur. “Dark magic.”

He allows himself to be pulled on top of you once more, and you tangle your hands in his hair again. 

“But you’re okay?” he murmurs, using his dry hand to play with your hair and brush over your cheek. 

“Mhm,” you nod, eyes fluttering shut once more. Then you laugh, sudden and unexpected to both of you. “I think. That was intense. I felt that one in my soul.”

You smile as he exhales a laugh against your skin. 

“Okay,” Spencer sighs after you catch your breath, bumping his nose against yours before sitting up—this time, not allowing you to pull him back down. “I need to take a shower. You should come with me.”

“Five more minutes,” you mumble. He raises his eyebrows. 

“But this is your last chance to wash my hair before it’s a whole inch shorter tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you laugh, but it turns deadly serious very quickly. “Spencer, I am not letting you cut a whole inch off your hair. I need that inch.”

“For what?” He snorts. 

You smile big, glad he didn’t see your joke coming for once. 

“Handles! Duh!”

[inktopuck]

juno | quinn hughes social media au (pt.4)

pt.3

_quinnhughes

Liked by trevorzegras, joshnorris10 and others

_quinnhughes happy birthday, wife ❤️ thanks for letting me be iron man

yournamehughes thank you, husband. the costume didn't fit me anyway

jackhughes i am never ever going costume shopping with you again

l_hughes06 did she cry into your shirt too

jackhughes sobbed

l_hughes06 at least she didn't force you to carry her on your back because her ankles were sore

yournamehughes you guys know he would fall face first if i got on his back!

canucks best costume this year goes to Y/N and baby Hughes!

njdevil00 ass kisser

bradytkachuk happy bday goat!

yournamehughes thank you boss baby!

yournamehughes

Liked by elblue6 and others

yournamehughes counting down (please come out)!

_quinnhughes millsy's kids got you again?

yournamehughes this is dumb and dumber's work, unfortunately

_quinnhughes aren't you glad they missed the playoffs 😁😁

jackhughes hey!

l_hughes06 too soon

elblue6 uncle Jack and uncle Luke were unusually quiet during the game... I should've known

yournamehughes as long as they stop using the belly as a table

lukeypookie is there a method to their madness

yournamehughes yes! jack tries to place them in specific areas, all color coordinated, and luke goes over and sticks something else on top of that just to piss him off :)

l_hughes06

Liked by _quinnhughes, colecaufield and others

l_hughes06 do you guys think jack's excited we're on baby watch

_quinnhughes dude i will never tell you anything again

dylanduke25 he's a division 1 yapper what were you expecting

yournamehughes he brought an overnight bag?????

jackhughes do you think i'm going home????

curtislazar95 he's fighting tooth and nail the "luke is the godfather" allegations

hughesyodaddy he looks like that hobbit that says i'm going on an adventure

trevorzegras he's about as tall as one as well

colecaufield FOUL

yournamehughes 💀💀💀💀💀💀

_quinnhughes

Liked by jackhughes, l_hughes06 and others

_quinnhughes mom and baby are perfect. wow.

l_hughes06 where is Y/N bro???

_quinnhughes she told me if i posted her while she looked "destroyed by the birth of our child" she'd ask for a divorce

l_hughes06 sounds fair she just pushed out a watermelon

elblue6 Luke do not call your niece a watermelon

bradytkachuk holy shit bro!! congrats!! can't wait to meet her!!

trevorzegras why is she staring straight into my soul

_quinnhughes she hates you

trevorzegras take it back!

canucks HELLO BABY HUGHES! Congratulations Y/N and Quinn!

jackhughes I HAVE A NIECE!!!!!!!!

elblue6 congratulations Y/N and Quinny, she's beautiful! nana wants to kiss her sweet cheeks!!!

yournamehughes quinn where is the 7up you were supposed to go get me

pt.5