#q imagine

[sohnric]

LEGO HOUSE — j. changmin

pairing: ji changmin x fem! reader

genre: roommates au?, friends to lovers. hurt/comfort, angst, fluff. both hopelessly in love with each other. it's the readers birthday <3

wc: 1.5k

warnings: crying lol. nothing much ig 😭

a/n: thank u best friend @csenke for beta reading i love u the most 😚 this is inspired by that instagram post changmin posted yknow which one i mean..,,,. And also a pinterest post that I loosely quote in the first 2 paragraphs

spin-off (epilogue) to my fic partners in crime!

Ji Changmin was never looking for perfection. He likes wrinkles in his sheets, coffee stains at the side of his mugs. His hair a little wind-blown. The apartment a little messy when he comes home– socks on the floor of the shared bedroom, the dishes laying unwashed in the sink. The flowers in the vase wilted and all dried-out, petals falling to the wooden table. The cramped space of the kitchen, your hips bumping every time you try to cook something together for dinner. The dirty window staring back at him when he tries to look outside to the street. The mornings when he wakes up a little too early, alongside with your alarm, and watches you get up from the bed with a grumpy expression on your face– it’s always hard for him to fall back asleep on the days when you work the morning shifts and he does afternoons, but he doesn’t find it in him to be annoyed.

Ji Changmin was never looking for perfection. He likes your face– even with the presence of dark circles that appear after you’ve worked a little too much and slept not enough. The hair you leave in the bedsheets and all around the apartment, leaving him sweeping it up once a week. He likes the freckles on your back and the chapped skin of your lips when he studies them late at night, taking you in. He likes it when you leave a message for him in the foggy mirror after taking a shower, never complaining about the smudges of the reflective surface. 

He likes things a little messy. He likes things a little well-loved.

He never wanted a perfect life– he said goodbye to that ideal when he was just a little boy. All he ever wanted was something better. Something more. His own place, away from all the prying eyes and expectations. Something beyond his reputation. He never wanted perfection– he knew life wasn’t that fair.

You were both so young when you behaved 25– now, he realized, you’ve grown into tall children. 

Ji Changmin unlocks the front door of your shared apartment at 7 in the morning after coming home from his night shift. In his hand is a cardboard box, and after discarding the pack of cigarettes onto the little table in the hallway and fishing for his lighter, he opens it and takes the little candle in between his fingertips. A click, spark, then a flame, the candle being stuck back into the white icing. Taking his shoes off, the box is back in his hands as he takes careful steps inside of the kitchen, knowing you’ll be there already, awaiting his arrival.

That’s the routine you two have. You only work morning shifts– Changmin, on the other hand, does both afternoons and mornings, and once a month, a week of night shifts. He comes home the moment you wake up for work and you silently say hello to each other in the quiet of your apartment. You got the place together after you ran away– one bedroom, one bathroom. Getting a lease was easier as a pretend couple, but somewhere deep inside of his soul, Changmin knew you were so much more.

Your back is turned to him, shoulders hunched over. The room is dark, the only light providing you two being the low light of the rising sun behind the window. He’s sure you heard his footsteps, but he still clears his throat and puts on a show for you, lowly singing the birthday song to you. When you turn around to look at him, the note he left at the kitchen table for you before he left for work in the evening is secured in your grasp and tears are dripping down your cheeks– a little by little, then all at once, like a waterfall, overwhelmed with emotion.

Changmin imagines today to not be easy for you. It’s your first birthday without family. You’re turning into an adult, with no supervision at all. There’s no one to reminisce over how tall you’ve grown and how much your face has changed over the years– only him. Only him and the lump in his throat as he watches you crumble in front of him, helpless. 

“Blow the candle out, it’s starting to drip on the icing–” he says, having you laugh and shake your head at him. It works, though– as you take a step towards him and do as he says, closing your eyes momentarily to wish for something. Changmin won’t ask what your wish was, but he could probably guess.

“Happy birthday, dear,” he mumbles, putting the cake and the box onto the kitchen table– just next to the mug stain in the corner. 

“Thank you,” he hears before your arms are thrown around his neck, chest on chest. You hold on to him for dear life, your nose burrowing into the crook of his shoulder. He gently cradles the back of your head, fingers slowly raking through your hair. His heart squeezes on itself when he feels your body tremble in his hold, making him try his hardest to calm you down. “For everything, that is. For sticking with me.”

Not every day will be easy– Changmin knew what he was getting himself into. It’s okay for you to walk on unsteady ground, though, it’s okay for you to look behind your shoulder after every step of the way. It’s okay for your world to break and crumble under your feet– Changmin will keep the pieces of you safe, like a building kit, and help you put them back up together again, the way they were before, like a lego house. Truth is, he doesn’t really have a tutorial or a guide, he doesn’t own a reference picture to how you were before everything– he met you at a very strange point in your lives– and so you might end up in a shape you didn’t have before. But that’s okay, because you’re back in one place– and although it may look and feel a little awkward at first, you will get used to it. You will grow to love it– just like he does. The new shape of you has character– it shows what you’ve been through. And that is fine. Beautiful, even. 

He’ll love the new shape of you just the same way he loved the previous one. Maybe even more– since now, he has his hand in it. He’ll love it more gently. More deeply, as well. He’ll love the new structure as it grows, and he’ll love it even with its missing pieces and imperfections. He never once gave up on you, and he would never dream of doing that now.

“Always,” he whispers.

You pull away from him, but still stay within reach. Your hands rest on his cheeks, thumbs glazing his cheekbones. The boy feels his breathing catch in his throat, wordlessly awaiting your next move. Looking at you almost always puts him into a trance, but today, he feels almost enchanted with your sheer presence. He feels grateful for your existence– he guesses this is the sentimentality parents feel on their children’s birthdays. He knows he’s not really the one you’d like to hear the words from, but he says them anyway. “I’m really proud of you.”

It happens without him even noticing– you standing on your tiptoes, answering the heart’s calling. The chapped lips he’s spent countless nights watching are pressed against him, a reply to the wandering question in his brain of how they would feel against his. He breathes you in: all of you. All of your worries and your troubles, all of your joys and your smiles– of which you press one against his lips, making his knees weak and heart beating raw in the palms of your hands.

You’re like everything he’s ever dreamt of and more. Somehow, he thinks this bond was there in the stars for him, written into his fate. He was bound to meet you, one way or another– and if he could turn back time, he’d do the same things, over and over again, just to end up in this moment with you. 

To an outsider’s eye, what you two have is not perfect, but he was never looking for perfection anyway.

Perhaps, he thinks, perfection is relative. Perhaps, this is what defines perfection for him: you two in your shared kitchen, holding each other, your birthday cake and the handwritten note he left for you watching you take another leap together– and truth be told, he doesn’t even know when it all happened. For him, falling in love with you went without him even noticing– a little by little, then all at once. One day, he was poking fun at you in the familiarity of the police office, and suddenly, he did all he could just to protect you.

(As long as I’m alive, you will always be loved.

Happy birthday to the best partner in crime life I could ever wish for.)

[yootaesowlwrites]

Aw, Your Legs Are Trembling - Q / Ji Changmin

A/N: I feel like Changmin was a bit mean to reader in this, just a bit, but not enough fo rme to add it to the warnings, so I’ll add it as a side note here for everyone.

W/C: 3.2K

Note: Blank blogs will be blocked. I don’t trust y’all, so make sure you  have your age in your bio/desc or something on your blog. Minors DNI.

Prompts: “Aw, your legs are trembling, does it feel that good?” + “Call me ‘Sir’ when we’re alone like this,”

Warnings: CEO!Changmin, employee!reader, explicit language, smut, office sex, window sex, Sir kink, nicknames, nipple stimulation, dirty talk, light hair tugging, nudism, fingering, mention of bruising, unprotected sex(reader’s on the pill).

Age Warnings: I will not take responsibility because you wanted to read this, but if you’re under the age of 18+, DO NOT INTERACT OR READ. Do not take this as educational, this is fiction!

You stretch in your chair and hear a few joints crack from how long you’ve been sitting, it was well past the work hour, but there was a deadline coming up, and you were working late, your boss, Ji Changmin, was also still working late while everyone else had gone home early, the tension had been high in the office as the deadline was creeping closer. You add the final piece of paper to the file he had requested and made your way towards his office.

“Mr. Ji,” You say after knocking, you hear a ‘come in’ from the other side and push the door open. “I have the file you requested,” You close the door behind you and make your way towards his desk, you hand him the file before taking a step back from his desk to let him read through it. As you wait for him to finish reading it, you couldn’t help but move closer to the window and stare out over the beautiful view he had of the city, and the city look especially beautiful at night.

Changmin looks up from the file and looks at you, taking in how you looked standing there observing the view, he puts the file down and loosens his tie slightly before standing and making his way towards you without you hearing, you only realize he had stood once he was behind you, and you could feel his front pressing against your back and his warmth radiating onto you.

“It’s such a good view,” He says, his tone even as he spoke. “It seems like you like it as well,” You try to keep your breathing even, his scent was slowly invading your nose and filling your lungs, and you could feel your conscious slipping into the most nastiest thoughts. “Want a closer look?” And with that question, you move to turn around, only for him to push you up against the glass, front first, he gently moves your hair to the side before pressing his lips against the back of your neck. Your eyes completely shut at how good it felt to finally feel his lips touching you, being against you, you had been daydreaming about this moment for months now, even getting yourself off to the thought of it.

“Mr. Ji…” You moan out. Your breathing becomes uneven and the tension in the room thickens, was this real or were you dreaming?

“Call me ‘Sir’ when we’re alone like this,” He mutters against your neck, his hands pulling at your blouse, pulling it from the skirt you had on before slipping his hands underneath your blouse, your skin instantly being set ablaze by the touch as his hands travel towards your breasts. “Do you consent to what I’m doing to you?” His hands cup your breasts, and you feel his fingers pulling at the top of your bra to pull it down and expose your breasts for him to feel.

“I do,” You moan out. It felt so good to have him pressed against you and touching you like this. “Touch me more,” You didn’t care if you sounded desperate. He tugs your bra down, pushing the cups below your breast before fondling them, you could feel heat travelling up your neck before feeling your cheeks become flushed with heat. “Oh, my gosh,” You press your hands flat against the glass and moments later you feel your nipples touch the cold glass through your shirt. “Fuck.”

“I will, be patient for me,” He mutters. He takes your nipples between the pads of his fingers before slowly rolling the nub between them. “You need to be ready for me first,” You could feel a sensation going down to your pussy as he played with your nipples, his nose brushing against your earlobe before you feel his lips against them. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this moment?” Your head falls back and rests against his shoulder.

“Fuck, me too,” You breathe out and reach behind you with one hand. You run your fingers through his hair before gripping onto them. “For far too long, Sir,” You feel his teeth nibble at your lobe and his breathing was right in your ear, the feeling quickly travels down to your pussy, and you could feel yourself getting wetter. You push your hips back and press your ass right against his crotch before wiggling your hips. Instantly feeling his cock hardening against your ass.

“Fuck, so needy and eager,” He groans into your ear. “That’s so hot of you,” His words were having such an effect on you and your body, you swore his words alone would have you leaking through your panties. His teeth grip your earlobe and tug on it, making you let out a whimper at how good it felt. You feel one of his hands slide down your stomach before slipping into your skirt and cupping your mound through your panties.

“Oh, my, sir…” You breathe out and tug at his hair. His fingers press against either side of your pussy lips and slowly knead into them, you lick your lips as you feel your juices moving around between your lips. “Feels so good, Sir,” He tugs at your earlobe again before releasing it and kissing along your jaw until he couldn’t get any further.

“How long have you been waiting for this to happen?” He asks as he slips his hand from underneath your shirt, you feel his hand grip your shirt at the bottom before feeling your shirt becoming looser around you as he undoes the buttons.

“A while, sir,” You whisper. “A long while now,” He reaches the final button of your shirt before pushing the fabric off one shoulder and then the other, you release his hair and drop your other hand from the glass to let your shirt tumble to the floor beneath you. “I even got myself off on the thought of it,” You feel his hand on your back before feeling your bra being undone.

“You naughty girl,” He mutters into your ear before removing your bra from you. “Did it work?” You gasp as you feel him push your upper body flush against the cold glass, your nipples instantly hardening against the cold surface.

“Fuck, it did, sir,” You gasp. Your walls twitch as the coldness from the glass spreads through your body and quickly heats up, fog was quickly building against the glass in the form of your body. “But this is better than I could have ever imagined, sir,” His fingers press down hard against your folds, and you feel your juices being pushed past your pussy lips and seeping through your panties.

“So fucking naughty and dirty of you,” He says lowly into your ear. “You should tell me about your imagination sometime,” He reaches up and grips your jaw to turn your head towards him. “But not right now,” His lips press against yours, kissing you hotly. You instantly reach back and grip his hair to keep him from pulling away, he pulls your panties to the side and slips his fingers between your folds, making you gasp into his mouth. Squelching sounds come from between your legs, and you feel his fingers slowly rub around your clit, which caused your hips to jerk at the attention your sensitive clit was getting.

You could feel your lungs quickly running out of air and starting to burn, his grip on your jaw almost felt bruising as he held you in place, tension was building up inside you with everything he was doing to you, with everything he was making you feel. His fingers slide from your clit towards your entrance, and he plunges two digits inside you without warning.

“Hmm-mmh,” You moan into his mouth and grip his hair tighter. His fingers curl inside you and slowly slide out from you halfway before he pushes them back in roughly and extends them, the palm of his hand presses directly against your clit. “HMM!” He breaks the kiss, making you both gasp for air, your lips felt swollen, and you could feel saliva spilling onto your chin. “Fuck Si-sir,” His palm rubbed against your clit as he slides his fingers in and out of you, curling them every few times. “Oh… Oh, my… S-sir,” You reach back with your other hand, and slip it between your ass and his crotch and slowly rub your hand over the prominent bulge.

“Ohh, oh, yes, like that,” He groans out. “Fuck…” His tone was low, and it was making your entire body tense up as your high was building. He pushes his fingers deeper into you and curls them, your back arches as you feel them reach your sweet spot, and you instantly saw stars behind your lids.

“SIR, OH FUCK, I!” You scream out in pleasure, your toes curl into the shoes you wore and a burst of pleasure goes through your body as the tension snaps inside you, your body shakes as you go through your high. “Sir, Sir, oh, fuck, Siiiiirrrrr,” You tug at his hair more and your hand falters against his bulge as you tried to keep rubbing him, but the pleasure felt too good to focus on anything else. “FUCK!” Your legs almost buck beneath you as you feel him rubbing that spot over and over to get you through your high.

“You’re dripping all over my hand,” He whispers into your ear, or at least it sounded like he did, you weren’t sure if he whispers or said it louder. Your body slowly calms do, and you begin taking deep breaths to try and calm yourself down, his fingers disappear from inside you, and you release his hair to press your hand against the glass to keep yourself upright.

“Fuck… Sir, that… fuck,” Were the only words that managed to leave your mouth as you tried to catch your breath and tried to get your spinning mind to work properly again, you open your eyes and look around you lazily. The glass was now completely fogged up around you, except for where your body was pressed against it. You hear the sound of a zipper being undone before hearing fabric hitting the ground along with a ‘clink’ sound, you press your legs together and suck your bottom lip between your teeth.

“It’s about to feel much more than that,” He says. You feel his fingers brush against your skin, you gasp as you feel two cold fingers and realise those were the ones inside you, his fingers dip into your skirt you feel him push it down along with your panties, the fabric hits the floor and you carefully step out of them and use your foot to push them aside, your legs felt a little shaky, and you hoped you could keep yourself upright for what was about to happen. He turns you around and pushes your back against the glass, making you gasp at the sudden cold feeling against your warm back.

You feel his hand on your hip and as it slowly slides down to your thigh before moving to the back of your thigh, his hand grips your leg before he pulls it upwards, you hear a loud squelching sound from between your legs as your pussy lips were spread open as he hooks your leg over his arm.

“Fuck, I, oh,” You whimper as you feel the cool air rushing against your wet hot pussy, you feel him press his hips against you before you feel his cock rubbing against your folds, you reach up to hold onto his shoulder with one hand while the other was against the glass, scratching at it already. “Sir…” You watch as he moves his hand between your bodies before feeling him rub his cock along your folds, lubing himself with your juices. “Oh, fuck, Sir, sir, yes.”

“Nice and wet for me,” He mutters before pushing the tip inside you. Your jaw slacks and you let out an inaudible moan as you feel him slowly push himself into you, slowly stretching your walls and filling you, your nails dig into his skin. “Fuck, taking me so good, fuck.”

“Oh, ngh, fuck, I,” You blabber out, you press your head against the window and let your eyes fall shut, your body immediately begins tensing up again as another high was being formed. He pauses once he was fully inside you, taking a moment to get used to your warm wet walls around him, that were just asking him to fuck you as they pulsed around him. “Sir…”

“Hmm,” He lowly hums before pulling his hips back and slamming back into you. Your tits bounce at how harsh his first thrust was, and you tried to grab onto something, anything with your free hand.

“Siiiirrrrr,” You whine, the sounds, the feelings, it all felt so good and yet it felt so filthy and naughty of you both. “Oh, Ohhh, shiiiit,” Your moans mixed in with his groans bounced off the walls, and you were thankful that it was only the two of you in the office building, otherwise everyone would hear just how good he was making you feel. “I… oh, uhhh,” You could feel a heartbeat forming in your clit and the leg you were standing on was starting to become tired. “Siirr,” He leans closer, pushing your leg even further open and manages to push himself deeper into you. “OHH NGHH,” His pubic bone hits your clit with the deeper angle, and you could feel your legs starting to tremble.

“Aw, your legs are trembling, does it feel that good?” He coos out as he thrusts his hips into yours, hitting so close to the spot that would make you see stars and possibly collapse into his arms from pleasure. “Should I lift your other leg also and fuck you properly against the window?” Your walls clench around him, and he lets out a low groan. “I’ll take that as a yes,” He pushes himself fully inside you before pausing.

“SIIIRR!” You scream as you feel his cock shift inside you as he picks your other legs up, pushing you fully against the window while hooking your other leg around his arm also, his hands pressed into the glass as he spreads your legs more open. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, siiiiirrrr,” Your knees were trapped over his elbows as he thrusts in and out of you, his pubic bone constantly hitting your clit. You could feel your muscles tightening up and your high quickly rushing to build. “SIIR!”

“That’s it, let me know how good I’m making you feel,” He practically growls. Sweat was building between you both, and everything felt hot and sticky. “Milk my cock, cum for me, show me what a good girl you are for me,” His words went straight to your pussy, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer. You reach up with your other hand and grip onto his hair, while your fingers managed to break the skin on his shoulder. “Fuck, yes,” He harshly thrusts into you, and then you feel it. The tension inside you snaps, your back arches against the glass and your toes once again curl inside your shoes.

“SIIIIRRRR!” You moan loudly as you come undone around him. His hips seem to move faster at the feeling and sound of your release, your walls clenched around him, milking him for his cum to fill you. “OH, MY, UHM,” Your chest rises and falls quickly, and your entire body shakes with the pleasure going through it, fuck, it felt so good.

“That’s it, make a mess on my cock,” He groans. His hips stutter into yours as he begins chasing his own high, just feeling your walls clench around him and hearing how good your orgasm made you feel was enough for him to get close to his own orgasm. “Make a mess on my office floor,” You let out a whimper at his words, not realising how much your arousal was dripping down his balls and making a mess on his thighs and possibly on the floors also.

“Sir, sir, fuck, fuck, it fe-feels so go-good,” You manage to moan out, your body was absolutely buzzing with pleasure, and it was a feeling you could barely explain. His hips snap into you and his head falls back.

“Ohh, fuck…” His moan was low as his release hits him, you could feel his cum spilling into you and his hips slowly rocking into you as he eases himself through his high. You were slowly coming down from your high as you felt him go through his, your grip on his hair and shoulder slowly loosened, and you lifted your head, opening your eyes. You blink a few times to adjust to the light before looking at him, his Adam’s apple bobs as he breathes in heavily and his hair was uneven from all the tugging you did to it, beads of sweat coated his neck, and you could see some patches of sweat against the white dress shirt he had on.

“Fuck… I, this, it… good,” You mutter as you feel his hips still against you and his cock stills inside you as it slowly grows soft. He lifts his head to look at you, taking a moment to gather his thoughts and catch his breath.

“Let me take you home,” He says and slowly lowers one of your legs to the ground before the other, you lean against the window as you feel your legs shaking. His cock slips from you and your mix releases spill from you, coating your inner thighs. “Such a pretty mess,” He takes a step back before turning around to pick up his underwear, you swallow as you watch him pull it on. What did this mean for the both of you? You watch as he pulls his pants on and zips up his pants before fastening his belt, he lifts his head to look at you before stepping towards you, he bends down to pick up your skirt. “Did I leave you in such a daze you forgot how to dress yourself?” Your lips part and you look up at him. “Hold onto my shoulders, and I’ll help you,” You reach up and grip his shoulders before lifting one leg and feeling him slip your skirt over it before switching sides. He pulls your skirt up to your waist before picking up your panties and tucking them into his pants pockets. “This is mine now.”

“Sir, I…” You begin to say. You push yourself away from the glass and feel the mess between your legs slipping down your thighs. “I’m going to need that,” He picks up his blazer and slips it on.

“It’s late, let me take you home,” He says and makes his way towards the door, you swallow and follow behind him, fuck, the mess between your legs was so fucking distracting, how were you supposed to keep yourself composed, and sit in his car… Sit in his car… without.

“Sir, your seats…” You softly mutter, hoping your words would convince him to give you your panties back, but it is like he hadn’t heard you at all and continued walking. Moments later, you found yourself in the passenger seat, pressing your legs together as you felt the mess seeping into your skirt and possibly leaving a mess behind on his seat.

[uhhkpop]

It’s For Us - Q (Ji Changmin) x GN!Reader

For once I have been inspired to write something that isn’t horny. Wow! Who woulda thunk?

Content/Warnings: fluff, angst, hurt-comfort, established relationship, meeting the parents (they aren’t so nice)🫢, I’m not gonna say much more because i don’t wanna spoil it

————

You rest your head against the window of the car as Changmin drives the two of you to your hotel for the night. Your heart is heavy as your mind drifts to earlier tonight, an event you had been both excited and nervous for turned so bad so quickly and you can’t help but feel discouraged. Changmin told you not to worry, that everything would be okay, that his parents would definitely like you, but unfortunately, your lovely boyfriend was wrong.

From the moment they set eyes on you, you could tell something was off. Everything started fine. His parents were polite and welcoming even if it felt a bit forced and your boyfriend was nothing but smiles, clearly excited to show you off to the people who raised him.

To be honest, you’re not sure exactly where things went south. Maybe it was when you took off your long coat and revealed your outfit underneath. An outfit that was simple, and in your opinion, pretty uninteresting. Maybe it was when you told that joke that immediately sent Changmin into a fit of giggles while his parents looked at you with raised eyebrows and little to say. Or maybe it was something else entirely that caused the issue. At this point, you have no clue.

Because by the end of the night, his mother was making passive aggressive remarks about how you were dressed and his father seemed to disagree with almost every single opinion that came out of your mouth. When you finally did say something he liked, Changmin’s father said to him something along the lines of, “well maybe your partner has a little bit of sense after all.” His voice was cold and definitely not joking. Of course, Changmin was fuming, but he defended you calmly and diplomatically, doing his best to defuse the situation. Part of you wishes he’d been more insistent against his parents, but you understood that he didn’t want to add fuel to the fire. That doesn’t necessarily make you feel much better though, and you sigh quietly to yourself as Changmin parks the car in the hotel parking lot after an otherwise silent drive.

You flop face first onto the queen bed once you get back to your hotel room and lay there face down for a moment. When you roll over, you see Changmin grumbling and pushing his fingers through his hair frustratedly as he paces.

“I’m so sorry…” he mutters tensely. “That was not how this was supposed to go.”

“It’s not your fault. I don’t blame you for any of it,” you sit up and reassure him softly, trying to keep the sadness out of your voice. He sits down next to you.

“I know you don’t, sweetheart. It’s also just… that I had a surprise… and now I have to figure out how to improvise or when to postpone it to since the mood might be too ruined at this point.” Changmin shakes his head briefly in regret, but at this point, he’s piqued your curiosity.

“Changmin,” you rub his knee soothingly, “if anything, whatever you have planned might help bring the mood back up,” you suggest lightly. He eyes you doubtfully.

“I don’t know, (y/n), the timing for this kind of thing just feels really wrong right now.” You nod thoughtfully.

“I know, and you don’t have to do anything that doesn’t feel right. I just don’t want you to fret over replanning something it sounds like you already put effort into.”

“You’re right,” he concludes. “Maybe I’m just being a coward and making excuses for myself.”

“A coward?”, you ask, taken aback by his statement. You wonder kind of surprise could possibly be cowardly to postpone. Changmin doesn’t reply, already crossing the room and taking something out of his coat and stuffing it into his pocket. Still very confused about what’s going on, you simply sit and watch as he returns to stand in front of you. His breathing has sped up and you can see his hands tremble slightly at his sides. Changmin is looking around as if he expects the right words to say to appear in the air in front of him.

You open your mouth to speak when he suddenly takes a deep breath and gets down on one knee in front of where you’re sitting on the bed. Gasping, you put your hand over your mouth. As he pulls a small box out of his pocket, Changmin stutters your name nervously and when he opens it to reveal a beautiful ring, he finally chokes out, “(Y/N), will you marry me?”

Tears well in your eyes and you nod your head, stunned speechless. You carefully take the ring out of the box and put it on your finger, quietly saying with a genuine smile, “I’d love to marry you. It would make me so, so happy.” You stand up and grab Changmin’s wrists to pull him up from where he kneels on the floor and throw your arms around him. You may be sobbing your eyes out at this point, but you’re utterly elated at the thought of spending the rest of your life with this person who means so much to you. It’s almost inaudible, but from the way his chest heaves with short, shuddering breaths and you can feel droplets soak through the shoulder of your shirt, you know he’s crying too.

Eventually you both pull away and look at each other with glassy eyes and big smiles. Soon, however, your face falls. “What about your parents?”, you ask hesitantly. Changmin sighs and pulls you in for another hug.

“I’m sure they’ll come around,” he promises gently.

“I hope so,” you sigh. “But… wouldn’t you want them to be there and be supportive? Are you sure you want to get married to someone your parents don’t really approve of?” You pull back again and look at him nervously. His smile is tinged with sadness.

“Don’t say that,” Changmin says and kisses you on the forehead. He makes sure to look you directly in the eyes. “I would never get married with the intention of making them happy. I want to get married to someone who makes me happy. And that someone is you. It doesn’t matter much who comes and who doesn’t because even though I’d like them there for such a special day, in the end, our wedding is for us. Nobody else. Now come here,” he sits on the bed and pulls you into his arms.

“I love you, Changmin,” you whisper. He strokes your hair.

“I love you too.”

————

Ok, so this isn’t exactly short, but it’s probably as short as I’m capable of writing. Anyway. Just a little romantic scenario my mind came up with last night. And of course angsty too because I can’t resist that good old hurt-comfort.

[stayteezdreams]

The Boyz Masterlist

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OT11/Multi *Works that have parts for multiple members in one post

*Nothing Yet

Sangyeon

Drabbles:

↦ 'Returned In Kind' (cute/fluff)

Oneshots/Fics:

↦ 'Dare' (cute/fluff)

↦ 'Because People are Scarier than Monsters' (halloween/spooky/gen)

Jacob

*Nothing Yet

Younghoon

*Nothing Yet

Hyunjae

Drabbles:

↦ 'Distracted' (cute/humor)

Oneshots/Fics:

↦ 'Autumn Confessions' (cute/fluff)

↦ 'First Snow' (fluff/pining/mild angst)

Juyeon

*Nothing Yet

Kevin

*Nothing Yet

Chanhee | New

*Nothing Yet

Changmin | Q

*Nothing Yet

Juhakyeon

*Nothing Yet

Sunwoo

Fics/Oneshots:

↦ 'Rigged' (fluff/cute)

Eric

Fics/Oneshots:

↦ 'Intention' (angst/fluff/friends>lovers)

↦ 'Blizzards and First Dates' (cute/fluff)

[777bae]

FIVE CHANCES AND ONE KISS QUINN HUGHES

Summary :: Five times Quinn has the chance to kiss you, and one time he takes that chance.

Warnings :: holding back, kissing

Word count :: 5.8k

1. The First Chance – After a Game Win

The game is over, and the cheers of the crowd are still ringing in Quinn’s ears, but it’s not the roar of the fans that has his heart racing—it’s the thought of you. He knows you’re out there somewhere, in the stands, eyes fixed on him, waiting for him like you always do. His skates leave the ice with the weight of the game finally lifted, but now there’s something else pulling at him, something deeper.

As Quinn skates off the rink, past his teammates who are congratulating him on the win, he’s not paying attention to any of it. All he can focus on is the way the arena feels smaller now, the noise almost fading out completely. His eyes search the crowd, and when they find you, standing by the barrier with that bright, encouraging smile on your face, it feels like the entire world falls away. The lights above, the roar of the crowd, everything just fades into the background, and the only thing that matters in that moment is you.

His heart picks up its pace. You’re here, you’ve been here all along, and somehow, he’s always known that when the game ends, it’s you he wants to see most. Quinn can’t stop the small smile that tugs at the corner of his lips as his eyes lock with yours. The warmth of your gaze wraps around him, and he can’t help but feel grounded in it. It’s like everything else has been a blur, but the second he looks at you, time seems to stand still.

He skates toward the edge of the ice, trying not to get distracted, but when you wave at him, his pulse quickens. There’s no one else around, no teammates or fans in his mind, just you—your excitement, your pride.

“You were amazing!” you shout, your voice rising over the last of the crowd’s cheers, but to Quinn, it sounds like music. You’re looking at him like he’s the most important person in the room, and that look in your eyes makes him feel more alive than any goal or play ever could.

Quinn blushes slightly, his cheeks flushing from the warmth of your words. He wants to say something back, something to express how much hearing that from you means to him, but instead, he just grins, his chest tight with a mix of happiness and something else—something he’s been feeling more and more around you lately.

“I really wanted to make you proud tonight,” he says, his voice carrying a slight rasp from the exertion of the game, but the sincerity is clear. His gaze never leaves yours, as if searching for something in your eyes, something that says you understand just how much that means to him.

You smile softly, your eyes glowing with affection, and your voice drops to a near whisper, just for him to hear. “You always make me proud.”

The simple statement fills him up, and for a moment, everything else—his achievements, the game, the celebrations—fades away. You’re here, and in this moment, it’s all that matters. Your eyes are locked on him, and he sees something in them—a softness, a warmth—that makes his heart skip a beat. He can feel the space between you shrinking, the weight of this moment settling in like it’s the only one that counts.

He takes a step closer to you, his hand moving slightly toward yours as if his body knows what he wants before his mind can process it. The air between you two feels charged now, electric, like the world is holding its breath. He’s so close now, so close he can almost taste the air around you. You both feel it—the gravity pulling you together, the undeniable desire to close the distance.

Quinn’s gaze flickers down to your lips, and it’s like everything else disappears. His heartbeat is so loud in his chest, he’s sure you can hear it. He leans in slightly, his body almost touching yours, and you can feel his breath, warm and steady against your skin. His eyes never leave yours as he inches closer, and for a heartbeat, everything feels suspended in time.

He’s so close, so incredibly close, that you can feel the pull between you two, like a magnet drawing you together. You can’t help but lean in a little, your lips parting slightly, your breath catching in anticipation.

But just as your faces are about to meet, a loud clap on Quinn’s back jolts him out of the moment.

“Hey, good job, Quinn!” one of his teammates calls, breaking the spell. Quinn’s body freezes, and for a split second, he feels the warmth of your closeness slip away, replaced by the sudden rush of noise around him.

He takes a deep breath, blinking a few times, as if trying to reorient himself. Reluctantly, he steps back, the distance between you both suddenly feeling unbearable. His heart is still racing, but it’s not from the game anymore. It’s because he knows he almost kissed you. Almost.

With a small, apologetic smile, Quinn turns toward the team, throwing a quick look over his shoulder. “I’ll see you later,” he says softly, his voice just for you. He doesn’t wait for a response, afraid that if he does, he’ll say something he shouldn’t, or maybe do something he’s not ready for.

You watch him leave, your heart heavy with the ‘almost’ of it all. The moment was there—right there, within your grasp—but now it’s slipping away. Still, there’s something more in the air now, something unspoken between you both. That feeling, that undeniable pull, is still there. It’s only a matter of time before the right moment comes again. And when it does, neither of you will let it slip away.

2. The Second Chance – During the Drive Home

The car hums steadily as Quinn drives, the rhythm of the tires on the road a comforting backdrop to the stillness between you. The city lights streak past the windows, their bright glow illuminating the otherwise dark night, but inside the car, the atmosphere feels a little different—a little charged. You’re not sure if it’s the lingering warmth of the evening, the closeness between you both, or something else entirely, but there’s an undeniable tension. It’s the kind of tension that lingers in the air like static electricity, and neither of you has acknowledged it, but you both feel it.

The silence between you is easy, but it’s also heavy, like something unsaid floats between you two, waiting for its moment to break free. It’s a comfortable kind of silence, but with every passing second, it feels more like it’s about to shift into something more.

You glance over at Quinn, watching the way his hand rests lightly on the steering wheel, his fingers flexing as he adjusts his grip. As you let your gaze linger for just a moment too long, your fingers brush against his on the center console—just the faintest flicker of contact, enough to make your heart skip a beat. The touch is light, almost accidental, but it’s enough to send a spark through your chest. You quickly pull your hand back, not sure if Quinn even noticed, but you feel it deep in your chest—the soft warmth of his skin against yours.

Quinn shifts in his seat, his hand slightly turning, and for a second, you wonder if he’s going to reach for yours again. But then, he asks, his voice breaking the silence, “Did you have fun tonight?”

You blink, your mind momentarily distracted by the heat from his touch, and you shift your attention back to the road ahead. “Yeah, I did,” you reply, your voice steady, though there’s a hint of a smile in it. “It was nice to get out.”

You both fall quiet again, and this time, the silence feels like it’s pressing in on you, filling the space between you two. The hum of the tires on the road fills your ears, but it’s barely audible over the pulse in your chest, the rhythm of your own heartbeat.

Quinn shifts in his seat, and his voice, when it comes again, is softer than before, almost tentative, like he’s testing the waters. “I like when we just hang out, you know?” he says, his tone quieter than usual, more vulnerable. “It’s… easy with you.”

His words catch you off guard, settling in your chest like something both simple and significant. The sincerity in his voice warms you, making the tension between you both feel a little lighter, but it also makes your pulse quicken, because you know there’s something deeper in those words than just casual friendship. You feel it too—the way things feel different when it’s just the two of you, when the noise of the world fades away and it’s just him and you in a car, in this moment.

“I know,” you say softly, your voice a little breathier than you intended, but the smile that tugs at your lips is genuine, warm. “Yeah, me too.”

But the moment doesn’t quite break. The quiet hangs in the air like a delicate thread between you two, and you both feel it, the awareness of each other, the distance between you two shortening with every passing second. The words don’t seem necessary anymore. The shared look is enough. You both know what’s there, what’s been there all along.

Quinn’s hand shifts again on the steering wheel, his fingers brushing against yours once more, this time a little more intentionally, like he’s giving you the choice to move closer, to let the contact linger. You feel the warmth of his skin against yours, a gentle, electric pulse that runs straight to your chest. It’s like everything inside of you shifts at that touch—your breath catching in your throat, your heart thudding a little harder.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, and for a split second, you catch his gaze. The look in his eyes sends a ripple of heat through your body. He’s looking at you with something there, something unspoken, and it makes the air between you feel impossibly thick. Neither of you says anything. You both just hold that look, the car shrinking around you, and for a heartbeat, it feels like everything else in the world disappears.

For one moment, it’s just the two of you in this small space, the connection between you undeniable. His breath hitches, and you can feel the tension between you both—unspoken, but powerful.

But then, just as quickly as it had happened, Quinn pulls his hand away, the warmth of his touch slipping from your skin. It’s a small movement, but it feels heavy, the way he quickly pulls back like he’s second-guessing himself. He clears his throat, his voice a little flustered, as if he’s trying to regain control of the moment that had gotten away from him.

“I—sorry,” he says, his words coming out a little more rushed than usual. You can hear the regret in his voice, though he doesn’t make eye contact.

You feel a slight pang in your chest at the distance that’s suddenly there between you, but you quickly shake your head, trying to brush it off. “No, it’s okay,” you reply, your voice soft, hoping that he knows it’s really fine. That the moment isn’t lost, that it’s still there, lingering in the space between you two.

But the moment is gone, the air between you both heavy with unspoken things, with what-ifs and maybes. Quinn keeps his gaze focused on the road now, but you can sense the shift in him—the way his hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter, the way his posture stiffens. The energy in the car has changed, and for the rest of the drive, it lingers between you both like an unfinished thought, something both of you can’t help but feel but don’t know how to address.

The ‘what if’ hangs heavy between you two, unspoken but undeniable. Neither of you can help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, this would be the time—if the distance would shrink, if the tension would finally give way to what you both want but haven’t dared to ask for. But for now, the drive continues, and with it, that heavy silence.

3. The Third Chance – After Your First Argument

The fight had been small, but the words still lingered like a bitter taste in your mouth, and the space between you two felt wider than it ever had before. The two of you sat at opposite ends of the couch, a chasm of silence stretching out between you. The TV was on, but neither of you were paying it any attention. It played on in the background, but the noise only served to highlight how quiet everything else had become. The frustration that hung in the air was thick, suffocating, and despite the tension, neither of you seemed willing to break it.

The silence seemed to stretch on forever, until finally, Quinn spoke, his voice softer than usual, the weight of something unspoken heavy in the words. “I didn’t mean it, you know? I didn’t mean what I said.”

His words hang in the air for a moment, and you turn your head to look at him. There’s something in his eyes—something vulnerable, maybe even guilty, and it tugs at you. You can see it in the way he holds himself, in the way his shoulders are tense, like he’s waiting for you to say something, anything. His sincerity is there, but the sting from the argument still burns deep inside you.

“I know you didn’t,” you respond, your voice softer now, but there’s still a weight to it, a tremble that betrays the hurt. “But it hurt.”

You see his chest rise and fall with a long breath as he nods slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” Quinn says, his voice low, almost like a confession. He’s leaning forward now, his body language open and raw. There’s no bravado, no walls, just him—vulnerable, real, and apologetic. His gaze locks with yours, and you can feel that ache inside your chest start to ease just a little. The words are enough to chip away at the anger, to start mending the rift that had formed between you two, but the wound is still there, still tender.

Your heart softens, and without thinking, you sit up from your end of the couch, moving a little closer to him. The space between you two feels different now—almost electric, like the distance between you had shrunk to a thin line of tension, and the air around you both crackled with the anticipation of what could come next. The argument, the hurt, it seemed insignificant now, as if it were something that could be pushed aside, just for this moment. It was strange how quickly things could shift, how easily the past few minutes could feel like they no longer mattered.

Quinn shifts slightly as well, the subtle movement of his knee brushing against yours. The contact is fleeting, but it sends a jolt of warmth through both of you, an unspoken connection that doesn’t need words. Your pulse quickens, and for a split second, it feels like everything could be different—like you could erase the tension, the hurt, and just let it be between you two.

He looks at you, his hand twitching slightly on the armrest as if it’s fighting the urge to reach for you. You can see the struggle in his eyes—the want to close that distance between you both, but the hesitation, the uncertainty of whether or not it’s the right time, the right moment. His lips part, and for a brief second, it seems like he might speak again, but then his eyes find yours once more, and that’s when the world feels like it narrows, as if the entire room shrinks, leaving just the two of you in this fragile, suspended moment.

“I’m sorry,” Quinn says again, his voice barely above a whisper. The words fall from his lips like a confession, like he’s offering his apology to you for more than just the fight. It’s the kind of apology that feels like it goes deeper than a simple disagreement—it’s the kind of apology that carries all the weight of emotions neither of you have fully addressed yet. His sincerity hangs in the air, thick and palpable.

You feel the heat in your chest, the knot in your stomach loosening as you look at him. “I know,” you whisper back, your words a soft, understanding murmur. You don’t need to say more—he’s already said everything he needed to say, and the softness in your voice is enough to show him that you’ve heard him, that you’re ready to move past it.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The air feels thick with possibility. There’s a quiet kind of tension between you now, but it’s different from before. It’s charged, expectant. You can feel his gaze on you, the heat of his presence, and you know he’s just as aware of the closeness between you as you are. His eyes flicker down to your lips, then back to your eyes, and for a second, everything in the room seems to slow. The space between you two feels like it’s shrinking with every heartbeat, with every breath you both take. His lips part slightly, and you feel your own heart rate pick up, your body tensing in anticipation.

He leans forward ever so slightly, just enough to make you wonder if this time, maybe, this time it’ll happen. You can feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy, your chest tightening in anticipation of what feels like the inevitable. And yet, just as you both are on the edge of something, just as it feels like you’re about to cross that line, Quinn pulls back abruptly, the space between you widening again.

He runs a frustrated hand through his hair, the motion quick and almost desperate. “We’ll figure this out,” he says, his voice softer, but you can hear the uncertainty in it now. He looks away, his gaze drifting toward the floor, and the weight of the moment slips from the air, leaving the room feeling heavier than before.

You exhale slowly, disappointed but understanding. It wasn’t the right time. It couldn’t be, not yet. But it doesn’t make the longing go away. The “what if” of the moment lingers between you, unanswered, suspended in the air, and you can’t help but feel that pang in your chest—a mix of longing and regret.

Still, you know that things aren’t over. The space between you two isn’t as wide as it had been before. There’s something in the way he looks at you now, something in the way he holds himself that tells you this isn’t the end of it, not by a long shot. But for now, the moment is gone, and neither of you knows quite what to say next. The silence falls once again, but this time, it’s different. It’s quieter, heavier with the weight of what was almost, but wasn’t, but still might be.

4. The Fourth Chance – On a Quiet Night In

The room is calm and peaceful, wrapped in a quiet stillness that seems to hold time itself at bay. You’re both curled up on the couch, close but not quite touching, the soft hum of the world outside barely reaching you. The gentle glow of the lamp casts shadows along the walls, creating a warm, intimate atmosphere that makes everything feel a little slower, a little more connected. There’s no rush, no expectations—just the quiet comfort of being together, of sharing a moment without the pressure of the world outside.

You’ve both settled into this peaceful silence, the kind that only comes when two people are comfortable in each other’s presence. The weight of the day is gone, and there’s a sense of contentment that fills the space between you. It’s rare, these moments of simplicity, but it feels right. It feels like everything else can wait.

After a while, Quinn breaks the silence, his voice low, almost a murmur, as if he doesn’t want to disturb the quiet but feels the need to speak anyway. “You know,” he says, his tone thoughtful, “I really enjoy spending time like this with you. No games. No pressure. Just… this.”

His words settle in the air between you, a soft confession that feels more vulnerable than he probably intended. You glance at him, your heart warming at the sincerity in his voice, the way he’s being so open, so real. There’s a quiet honesty in his words that pulls at something deep inside you, making you realize how much you cherish these moments together, how much you’ve come to rely on them.

You smile, turning slightly toward him, your eyes meeting his. “I like it too,” you reply, your voice softer than usual, your heart already in your throat. “Just… being with you.”

The air between you both feels different now, charged with a quiet understanding, the kind that only comes when two people are on the same wavelength. You’re close enough that you can feel the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breath. It’s a silent exchange, but it says everything—how comfortable you are, how much you value these moments, how much you’ve come to mean to each other.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. It’s as if the whole world has slowed down, like the room itself is holding its breath, waiting for something. It’s a subtle shift in the air, a subtle change in the way you’re both looking at each other. There’s an unspoken connection that lingers, one that feels deeper than words. Your gaze locks with his, and you feel the weight of it, the intensity of his look. His eyes are soft, but there’s something in them—a depth, a sincerity—that makes your heart skip a beat. The space between you feels smaller now, the silence thick with the unspoken.

Quinn shifts a little closer, his body angling toward you, his hand resting gently on the arm of the couch. His fingers twitch slightly, as if fighting an urge, as if he wants to reach for you but isn’t sure if he should. The moment hangs there, suspended in time, the air between you both charged with anticipation. Your lips part, your breath catching in your throat as you feel the weight of the moment, as if this is the point where everything could change, where the connection between you could finally be made real in the most intimate way.

But then Quinn shifts again, his hand pulling away from the arm of the couch, creating just enough space between you that the moment slips through your fingers. The tension is still there, still thick, but now there’s a sense of hesitation, an uncertainty that fills the air. He smiles, but it’s a small, wistful smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and for a brief moment, you wonder what’s going on inside his head.

“I… don’t know what’s holding me back,” he admits quietly, his voice almost to himself, like he’s trying to figure it out as he says it. The words carry a weight of vulnerability, and you can see it in the way he looks at you, in the way he’s holding himself back, even though it’s clear that he wants to move closer. You can sense the conflict within him, the push and pull of his feelings. He wants this, you can tell, but something is stopping him—something that neither of you have said, but you both feel.

Your heart aches at the hesitation, the uncertainty in his words, because you can feel it too—the tension, the waiting. You want to tell him that it’s okay, that you understand, but it’s hard to find the right words. Instead, you simply smile, your fingers gently brushing his as you reach out, offering him the comfort of your touch, the reassurance that everything doesn’t need to be perfect right now.

“When it’s the right time,” you say softly, your voice a quiet murmur, “you’ll know.”

You both hold that moment for a breath longer, the space between you still thick with unspoken things. The words hang in the air, lingering like a promise, like an understanding that doesn’t need to be rushed, doesn’t need to be forced. The connection between you is there, clear and undeniable, and in that moment, you both know that it’s only a matter of time. When the right time comes, it’ll be real. But for now, you’re content with the simplicity of this—just being together, sharing this quiet, beautiful moment.

And just like that, the moment slips away, but it doesn’t feel like a loss. You both know it’s not over; it’s just waiting for the right moment, for the time when everything aligns. But for now, you sit in the warmth of each other’s presence, content, connected, and still.

5. The Fifth Chance – After You Tell Him You’re Proud

The evening is a rare kind of stillness, one that settles over everything like a blanket, calming the world around you. The noise of the day has faded, and the only sounds left are the soft hum of the city below, the distant murmur of traffic, and the occasional rustle of the wind moving through the trees. You’re sitting together on the balcony, your legs tucked underneath you, a comfortable distance between you, but close enough that you can feel the warmth of Quinn’s presence beside you. The city lights stretch out before you, a mosaic of golds and blues twinkling in the distance, but it feels as though the entire world is silent except for the two of you.

The conversation between you both flows easily, naturally—nothing forced, no pressure, just the comfort of being together. There’s an effortless rhythm to it, but as the moments pass, it becomes clear that there’s something more in the air, something unspoken that both of you can feel but haven’t fully acknowledged. It’s a quiet understanding, one that lingers beneath the surface, weaving its way through the conversation without either of you saying a word about it.

You shift slightly, taking a breath, and then you speak, your voice soft and sincere, breaking the silence in a way that feels almost intimate. “You know, Quinn,” you start, the words coming slowly but with intention, “I’m really proud of you. For everything. All the hard work you put in. The way you lead, on and off the ice… it doesn’t go unnoticed.”

Quinn turns to look at you, his expression shifting as he processes your words. There’s a moment of stillness, and you can see the surprise in his eyes, the vulnerability in the way he regards you. It’s as if he didn’t expect this, and yet, the sincerity in your voice seems to settle into him, like a quiet affirmation that he didn’t know he needed but now feels deeply. His lips curve into a small, genuine smile, the corners of his eyes softening as he takes in your words. “That means everything to me,” he says, his voice low, full of gratitude and a warmth that makes your heart swell. “I don’t know what to say… but thank you.”

You can feel the weight of his words, the truth behind them, and your chest fills with something soft and sincere in return. There’s a deep sense of connection between you both, something unspoken that binds you together, and in this moment, it feels like everything is aligned in a way that’s almost perfect. You smile back at him, your heart full as you reach out, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

“I just wanted you to know that,” you continue, your voice steady and sure. “You’re incredible. I see it. And I just… I wanted you to know that I notice.”

Quinn’s gaze doesn’t leave yours, and you can feel the intensity of it now, how his eyes linger on you, searching your face as if he’s looking for something—maybe for reassurance, maybe for confirmation of what he already feels deep inside. The world outside fades, the city lights dimming in comparison to the way his presence fills the space between you. There’s a quiet tension in the air now, a shift that neither of you can ignore. It’s as if the weight of everything you’ve both felt—everything that’s been building over time—has finally caught up with you, and for the first time, it feels like this moment might be the one that changes everything.

Quinn’s eyes flicker to your lips, and then back to your eyes, and in the silence that follows, it’s as though time itself slows down. You can feel the gravity of the moment, the pull between you both, and before you even realize it, Quinn is leaning closer, his movements slow and deliberate, his hand resting lightly on the arm of the couch beside you. The space between you has closed, and you’re so close now that you can feel the heat of his body radiating toward you, the warmth of his breath mixing with yours.

His lips hover just inches from yours, and the anticipation is almost too much to bear. The air between you feels charged, the weight of everything you’ve both been holding back lingering just under the surface. You can hear the steady beat of your heart, feel the thrum of electricity in your veins as you look at him, and for a moment, everything else in the world disappears. It’s just the two of you, suspended in this fragile, perfect space, and you know that this is the moment—the moment you’ve both been waiting for.

And then, without any further hesitation, Quinn closes the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in the softest, gentlest of kisses. It’s a kiss that feels like it’s been building for a lifetime, like every second, every look, every smile has led to this exact moment. There’s no uncertainty now, no second-guessing. It’s simple and pure, the kind of kiss that feels like coming home, like everything has finally fallen into place. His lips are warm and tender against yours, and for those few seconds, it’s as if the world has stopped spinning, leaving just the two of you in this perfect, suspended moment.

When you pull away, it’s slow, a lingering touch that leaves your lips tingling, your heart racing. Your eyes meet, and there’s a shared understanding between you both—relief, joy, and something deeper that words can’t quite capture. You smile at each other, the kind of smile that speaks volumes, full of everything you’ve both wanted and needed to say but hadn’t yet found the courage to.

Quinn’s forehead rests gently against yours, his breath coming just a little faster than usual, and his voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, as though he’s confessing something that’s been on his heart for too long. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he admits, the words soft but filled with such emotion that it sends a wave of warmth through your chest.

“I know,” you reply, your voice quiet but sure. The understanding between you is palpable, and there’s no need for further explanation. You’ve both known, deep down, that this was coming, that this connection was always there, waiting for the right moment. And now, here it is.

Without another word, you kiss him again. This time, it’s different. It’s not just a kiss—it’s the culmination of everything you’ve both held inside for so long, the frustration of the distance between you, the longing that’s grown with each moment of hesitation, the quiet understanding that’s passed between your eyes and your words. It’s the relief of finally letting go, the silent promise that this moment, this kiss, is everything you’ve both been waiting for.

As your lips meet his again, there’s a tenderness to it, like he’s savoring every second, as if he’s afraid this might slip away, that maybe if he doesn’t hold on tight enough, it will be gone before it’s fully real. His hand moves to your face, cupping it gently, his thumb tracing the line of your cheekbone, grounding you both in this moment. The warmth of his touch spreads through you, sparking a fire that matches the intensity of the kiss.

You feel the tension melt away, the knot in your chest unraveling as you lean into him, your body responding instinctively, your heart pounding with a rhythm that matches his own. The kiss deepens, slow and deliberate, as though neither of you wants to rush it, wants to savor the moment, to make sure it lasts. His lips are soft but insistent against yours, and you can taste the sweetness of everything unspoken—every glance, every shared silence, every secret that’s finally been revealed without words.

Your hand finds its way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingers. It’s real. This is real. You can feel the way his heartbeat speeds up in time with your own, the way the warmth between you both expands, wrapping around you like a protective cocoon, shutting the world out. All that exists right now is him and you—the softness of his lips, the press of his body against yours, the unmistakable feeling of everything falling into place.

There’s a desperate need in the kiss now, a hunger that you didn’t know you’d been holding inside until it spilled over into this moment. It’s not frantic, though. It’s patient, gentle, as if you both understand the weight of what this is, the depth of what’s being shared. You can feel the muscles in his back shift as he pulls you closer, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, holding you in place, but it’s not controlling—it’s protective. He’s pulling you in not to claim you, but to hold you, as though he never wants to let you go.

The world outside seems to vanish, fading into nothingness, and the only thing left is the warm press of his lips on yours, the taste of him, the rhythm of his breath. Every inch of your skin feels alive, charged, the connection between you two so intense that it’s almost overwhelming. Your pulse quickens, your breath catching in your throat, and you find yourself pulling him even closer, if that’s even possible, your hands threading through his hair, grounding yourself in the softness of him.

For a fleeting moment, it feels like time itself has stopped. There’s no past, no future, only this—this kiss, this moment that you’ll both carry with you for as long as you live. It’s everything you both needed, everything you’ve both wanted, and the knowledge that something has shifted between you. This isn’t just a kiss; it’s the beginning of something new, something real, something that’s been years in the making but finally, finally, feels right.

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕*

Pairing: Bangchan x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Dom!Chan, Brat!Reader, Hair Pulling, Spanking, Unprotected Sex, CreamPie, Degrading, Mentions Of multiple rounds, Studio Sex, P in V, Sir Used, Slightly proofread.

You can find this beautiful request (here)

-🖤

You had been testing Chans patience all day today, but what broke the straw was you getting a little too handsy with Changbin. You were sitting in the studio with Chan when Changbin had come into grab something. Somehow you ended up feeling his muscles making him all blushy. When Changbin left for the gym Chan shot you a death glare. He was always so patient, way more than he should be honestly. Today though? He had enough.

He got up locking the door, he hovered over you looking down at you. You stared at the ground not wanting to meet his gaze. That gaze, you knew damn well he was done with your bullshit. He sighed loudly before sitting beside you. Yanking you over his lap making you yelp at the suddenness. He laid your body over his lap ass pushed up. He pulled your shorts down with your underwear as you squirmed at his touch.

“Don’t move.” He said in a low voice. “You know the rules, count and do not look away.” He said staring daggers down at you.

You nod only for him to let a quick slap to your ass. “Words.” He said with a growl.

“Yes- sir, I’m sorry sir” you said voice trailing off a bit at the end.

“And what happens if you don’t keep eyes on me or don’t count?” He said rubbing his hand over the area he had slapped.

“Starts over” you all but whimper out looking at him with big doe eyes.

“Good girl” he said softly before letting another slap hit your ass. “Now start counting”

“1” the first (third) slap hard, his hand soothing it a bit before another smack.

“2” you groaned out eyes staring deep into each others gaze.

A few minutes had passed, with a whimper you kept going. “8.” Tears pricked at your face as you blinked the tears away.

“You gonna learn your lesson next time hm? Or are you gonna keep testing my patience.” He said another spank hitting your ass this time harder. The area was red, sensitive and getting sore. He normally did it on both sides but this was a sort of punishment he did when you were really bad.

“M’sorry sir, I didn’t-“ a louder yelp left your lips as another smack connected. “N-nine” you stuttered out.

“You didn’t what? Be a brat all day and then feel up my friend’s arms like a dirty little whore? You didn’t mean to do all that?” His voice was low but also a mocking tone. Another hard smack came down to your ass connecting with the sensitive spot once more.

“10!” You basically screamed. This slap the last one, was hard. Full of all the anger you had made him feel through the day. It stung, it hurt, it sure was gonna bruise. He ran his fingers over your ass looking down at your tear stained face. He spread your legs slightly running his fingers down your folds slowly. The sensation made your body jump, Not expecting it.

“You took your punishment so well, I’m proud” he said voice a bit softer than it had been. The slight pain dying down now you could feel how wet you were. He ran his fingers across your clit before pulling them away. You wanted to whine out but you knew it was a bad idea. So you bit your cheek trying to be good for him.

“Up” he said patting your ass, and you did so. You stared at him while he unbuckled his pants pulling everything down letting his cock slap back against him. He was rock hard, pre cum dripping from his tip. “Over the couch now.” He demanded.

You obeyed taking position, as soon as he made his way behind you he was already pushing into you. He gave you no time. No time to adjust and definitely no time to think. He was pounding into you mercilessly, balls slapping against your skin as he bottomed out. A string of curse words and grunts left his mouth as you moaned below him.

He gripped your hips harshly as his nails dug into the sensitive soft skin. You could feel his cock so deep into you, he was twitching already. He slapped your ass this time on the other cheek before bringing his hands up to wrap around your neck. “Tell me how much of a slut you are, tell me how you were probably bad cause you’re a needy whore and just want my attention. He growled.

“M’need- always need your attention. Always want all of you” he groaned. You could feel your legs becoming jelly. Your cunt squeeze around him. “G’onna cum!” You moaned out spit dripping down your chin.

“Did I say you could? You think you’ve deserve to cum?” He said as he took a chunk of your hair pulling it harshly. Your head came back where he could whisper into your ear. “Think I should let you?” He said almost a chuckle.

“Please sir I’m sorry- I- I’ll behave just- aah” you moaned out. Chan grinned as he pulled out before quickly flipping you over.

“You’re gonna keep eye contact with me until I cum got it? Then maybe I’ll let you cum” he said pushing himself back into you. His pace was fast he was hitting every spot inside you. Your body shook under him, in return making him laugh. “So pathetic” he said as his hand found its way to your clit. He rubbed small circles as he drilled into your eyes never leaving one another’s.

“Sir! Mm fuck- so good- only you. Only you make me feel so good.” You babbled out. You were seeing stars and so was Chan. His high washing over him faster than he thought it would. His cock pumped deep into you as he groaned. Hot liquid filling you to the brim as his movements start to stutter.

“Shit princess” he said he leaned down leaving sloppy kisses to you as he rubbed you clit. “Cum for me princess, I wanna watch you come undone from me” he groaned out. It didn’t take long for you to let go. Gushing all over his long cock as you arched your back.

“Thank you sir” you said panting out. “M’sorry for being bad” you said softly looking up at him.

“I know baby” he coo’d rubbing your head as he came down from his high. A few moments had passed before either of you said anything else, But you were the first one to break the silence.

“Chan” you said softly. “Chan! The recording sound was on! You recorded this whole-“ your eyes went wide looking at him. He couldn’t help but laugh, he just shrugged “maybe I’ll put it in a song” he said smiling at you as you rolled your eyes.

He cocked an eyebrow “attitude back already?” He teased making you pout “no..” you said softly “don’t worry baby I’m not done with this punishment yet, I think I got 2 more rounds in me” he said before kissing you as he wrapped his arms around you. Those 2 rounds? Yeah, turned into 1 more at the studio and 2 more at your house.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat

[flamingpudding]

Triple Identity Crisis

Danny had a problem. If it was a big one, he couldn't tell yet but he was partially sure Clockwork was at fault for this. Or at least he wanted to blame his ghostly godparent who most likely just wanted to cause some chaos for entertainment with the pretext of helping Danny. Which was a very likely reason for why Danny had a problem right now.

As it was the former Fenton now Fenton-Wayne boy was pacing his room in the Manor trying to think what is next step should be, because as it was his 'new' family –Did new still apply if he was living with them for a little more than a year now? – knew him under three different Identities now. And to top it all off they were not aware that the three identities were all pretty much connected as one.

For one. His family, knew him as Danny, the space obsessed kid, who became a meta because of his ectobiology science obsessed parents and his teenager recklessness. A kid that was actually a genius if you gave him enough time for school and could make you anything out of a ancients be damed toaster. That was the Danny they mainly knew. The Kid they took in, let in on the family business and then chose, to the happiness of Alfred and dismay of some of his 'new' siblings, normal life over vigilante life.

Then they knew Phantom. A dead ghost hero that was helping the Justice League and Young Justice to help them deal with the aftermath of the huge fallout caused by the GIW, Guys in White or rather Ghost Investigation Ward. And while Danny didn't know he had apparently worked with nearly his entire family and that time he knew it now. Which was awkward because he had pretty much pestered one of his elder brothers about his condition until Red Hood, aka Jason, let Phantom help him. Ancient, things might get awkward if that secret is lifted. He had done a lot of things Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Orphan and Robin had scowled him for. Thankfully they only thought of him as a dead teen hero and didn't know what a Halfa was. So they didn't make the connection, and he had yet to meet Signal, aka Duke as Phantom.

Now came the third identity, which totally did not happen by his choice. After all officially he hadn't accepted the throne yet and would only get it once he was dead dead not half dead. To bad ancient texts don't care about formalities. So when trouble hit the fan really hard the Justice League Dark had the bright Idea of getting some other worldly help. Which in other words was summoning the Ghost King. Oh boy, was it fun to learn that way that Danny could get summoned against his will. Clockwork did not give him that warning when he told him about the future of his afterlife. But best of all? Oh he doesn't get summoned as Phantom which would have made things maybe a bit easier, oh no. Life wasn't easy. He got someone's in some as a super weird black-green mass of a formless eltrich body with sharp teeth, claws and glowing green eyes with no pupils or irises. Hell Danny even scared himself when he saw his own reflection in a window and he didn't have a single idea how to change his form.

Let it be known that Danny acted then on purpose like he didn't know a single person in that room he had been summoned in right out of his bed and that he wasn't staring at his adoptive father like he needed help who interpreted his stare as the ghost king sizing him up. And Danny knows this because Dick had a good laugh about that at the dinner table with the rest of his siblings.

Now a smart person would probably come clean to his family and explain to them the three identities they knew him under and how they are connected.

To bad Danny wasn't 'smart' when it came to things like that. No in his panic and newfound awkwardness of the situation of what he had done on separate occasions with his identity as Phantom AND Ghost King, he decided to keep acting like he didn't knew them personally like the truely does. Really how hard could that be? Besides he liked the way his family treated him now. He didn't want to get treated differently because he was half dead, or a Ghost King. He liked that his family was treating him as plain old Danny who had an obsession with space and was their quirkily little brother with powers.

So that gave him even more incentive to keep the act up. Even if it was hard at times, especially if he got summoned out of nowhere. It would be easier if he could get a hang of the duplication power. He even had played with the thought of getting one of his ghost rogues to help but his family was perceptive. Maybe not perceptive enough to realise that all three identities were one and the same person but they would notice if Danny acted just slightly different or if Phantom was more of then usually. But somehow he still managed to keep it up.

But it was the hard way that he learned, Danny was bad at doing the 'talking' and realized that maybe Jazz was right and he was going to slip up one day causing huge misunderstandings like right now.

He stared down at Batman and Nightwing in his Ghost King form. Red Hood had his guns pulled on him, Wonder Woman and Superman looked like they where going to try to pull back Batman any second now while Nightwing, maybe at first was going to try to calm down the bat but Danny was pretty sure the eldest bat kid was now fiercely glaring at him too. He was also pretty sure the only reason he didn't see Red Robin or Robin threaten him too was because their super friends were somehow holding them back. For their own or his safety he doesn't know at the moment.

Because apparently the Bats did not fear fighting otherworldly beings to protect one of their own.

"What did you just say about Danny Fentons death?!" Batman grunted out and Danny just knew his adoptive father was glaring at him. Ancients Danny cursed his brain to mouth filter right now. As he had the collective hero scene before him staring at his Ghost King form. Would this be a good or bad moment to come completely clean or maybe he should find some kind of philosophical bullshit of 'All things death belong to him'....

[pricetagged]

Part 2 of that wifehunter john piece instead of working on my wips 💖

Masterlist l Previous l Next

Warnings: implied stalking and voyeurism. Nothing too bad...yet.

Unedited, typed on my phone during break, abrupt ending (part 3 ig?)

_________________

He thumbs at the book, tracing the swirls of your penmanship until the ink fades off and the paper turns to felt. It leaves his fingertips stained, dark as indian ink, and he can't help the satisfied burr that catches his breath as he presses the sticky whorls of his prints into the pages.

Stained. Blackened.

Imprinted.

It's what he wants to do to you in something more indelible than ink, something that would burrow under your skin and linger. (This parasitic desire, he'll bury it in you, make you feel his presence deep in your guts, squirming and wriggling at the back of your mind-)

Of course he returns the book. Returns it to you marked and dogeared and of course you're grateful for it. Tripping over your words and choking on the thanks that build up and tumble from your delicate throat, feelings and words too big for you. 

He knows that, sees the slight hesitance in your eyes as they flit to the window where he knows your useless Buck is ambling about. Shambling. (This marriage is a sham, his claim on you is a sham, one that John is more than willing to seize upon and squeeze until it all crumbles and all that is left is you malleable and soft in his hands).

"Where...where did you find this? I thought-" He sees how you choke down condemnations, not wanting to crack open that door that leaves your husband exposed.

Is it loyalty? Obedience?

Whatever it is, he wants it. Wants to redirect it his way. It itches at him, sits awkwardly like a broken seam, seeing you waste this fidelity on something still wet behind the ears.

On a man who can't even protect his own home, can't even cherish his own wife and has to call John in to pick up the mantle-

"It's good work. Shouldn't leave it lying around, sweetheart," he raps against the front cover, needs to do something with his hands before the impulses take over and he does something hasty. Something that would send you darting back to your husband's arms instead of in to his. "Would be a real waste if it got lost. Taught me how to transplant herbs, now I've got some parsley on my windowsill that's still alive."

It's a lie. He must have strangled the roots, harvested it too soon, something-

But it makes you happy. He can see the glow that warms your cheeks and brightens your eyes. They way your face plumps up, softens, due to your shy smile.

"You should've tried mint, first. It grows like crazy, basically does its own thing. Basil, too." You're grinning, in your element out here. Surrounded by green and the rich, earthy scent of the soil that you till. Geosmin. Oakmoss.

"I'll have to get you over to show me sometime."

He plays gallant so well, offering to help you with the weeding and trimming. It wouldn't be the first time he got down into the muck and the mire. Wouldn't be the first time he stuck his hands in, got them caked and dirty right up to the elbow in order to get what he wants. In order to do what needs done. It's as familiar to him as the uniform he wears.

And your company makes it so much more pleasant.

You smile at him, glancing up from the flowerbeds each and every time he passes you a tool. Eventually you feel comfortable enough to call for him - John? - to tap at his wrist and redirect his hands around the roots and stems below you both. It's a beautiful symbiosis: you, who are so good at wringing life and he who is so good at taking it.

He catches the way the living room curtains twitch, the shadow of the young buck pacing and pawing just out of sight. Too much energy, not enough courage. Not seasoned enough to come out and plant himself between the challenger and his wife. It's stable vice, sending him spinning, uselessly watching as John sidles in and digs his paws into the very foundations of the house. It makes him smile, big and broad as he tugs at a particularly stubborn weed with a grunt.

And when you can't quite get the rubber of the yard gloves to slide over your wrist, he just has to help you. Has to grip at your soft forearm, cooing as you wince.

"Big pull, that's it sweetheart."

You brace yourself so well, pulling back in a counterweight that just digs his fingers in tighter. Blinking back tears, you laugh a little awkwardly. A little thrilled.

And you thank him for it, shaking your arm out and stretching your fingers. All damp from the soil and your sweat.

Unoticing uncaring of the ring that's no longer on your finger.

He has the urge to shake it out of the glove onto the dirt. To burry it and trample all over it until it's dull and forgotten and dead.

But -

But it's still warm from your hand.

It's so fragile, too small to fit properly over his thick fingers and swollen knuckles.

He thumbs at it on his drive home, plays with the smooth face and angled edges as he thinks.

He won't give it back, the thought draws a scoff as he signals into his driveway. No, the only way you're getting a ring from him is on the same day that the ink dries on your marriage license.

But there's the matter of that ugly possesive thing that lives in his ribcage, so close to the surface that the lines blur and shimmer until he's not sure which skin he's wearing. It has him feeling hot, burning up and itching to watch the fall out.

He settles on the settee, cigar in one hand and your wedding ring in the other.

It sits tight just barely at the first knuckle of his forefinger. The screen in front of him illuminates it, makes it glint cold and sharp as it moves lower and lower, over the slight give of his stomach until it reaches the bulge pressing into his zipper. He palms himself, hisses as he feels the metal dig in a little to the sensitive, aching flesh.

With another slow drag, he flicks open his fly and settles in.

Even the slight pixelation of the monitor can't disguise how pretty you are.

_________________________

Someone with a big brain please help me to name this haha 💖

Sorry for the delay. Been super demotivated lately. Still got several k of wips that need attention :/

[sanguineterrain]

hello! are requests open? 😅 i’d like to request for a drabble with a newlywed jason and yn if so!

sure thing! short and sweet <3 jason todd x gn!reader. newlywed fluff.

****

"Okay, toaster from Wade and Logan. Keep or give away?"

"Who the fuck are Wade and Logan?" Jason asks, upside down on the couch. His tie and suit jacket are gone, two buttons on his shirt undone.

"Dunno. I think Roy invited them."

Jason sighs. "Give away. Why did people give us so many toasters?"

You both look at the four toaster boxes in front of you.

"Maybe it's the fashionable thing to have toasters in every room," you say.

You put the fifth toaster in the pile. You didn't even have a toaster on the registry.

"We should give them their toasters back when they get married," Jason says.

"That would be extremely funny, and I'm always ready to commit to the bit."

"I know. 'S why I married you."

That makes you giddy. You look at the ring on your left hand.

"Dude, I can't believe you actually married me," you say.

"I can't believe you're calling me 'dude.' Did I marry a frat boy?"

You grin at Jason. "I love you, man."

"Ridiculous. Gimme my ring back."

"Nope!" You slide to the floor and sit criss-crossed in front of Jason. He folds his arms. You kiss him, mouths slotting oddly due to him being upside down.

You pull away. "No take-backsies."

"Curses!" Jason shakes his fist. "Beaten by the take-backsies rule once again."

You shrug. "I guess you're stuck with me for the foreseeable future."

"Guess so."

He rolls onto his side, so he's lying on the couch properly. He leans in for another kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss with all your might. Jason tugs you up onto the couch so you're atop him. You sit up on your knees, straddling his stomach. You take his left hand.

"Dude, you look really hot in this wedding ring," you say.

"Not as hot as you, babe."

"Way hotter," you say and suck his neck. Jason holds you steady with a hand on the small of your back.

"Tryin' t'maul me? Thank God pictures are done." He doesn't push you away, not even a little.

"Marriage turns me on, broski. I love a man who'll enter a legal contract with me."

"You're a freak," Jason says. "I love you."

You sit up and grin. "I love you too, J.T. Morgan."

He pulls a face. "That's worse than broski."

"Is it, though?"

"It's actually the worst thing I've ever been called," Jason says, deadpan. "My first day as your husband and I'm already being bullied."

"I was bullying you way before you became my husband, J-dog."

"Now you're just saying anything."

"Fine." You lean in so close that your perception warps, and Jason's face looks like it's in a fish-eye camera. "How 'bout I call you pretty boy?"

"Hm." He shifts the way he does when he's getting flustered. "I'll allow it."

"Sweet boy? Angel? Honey bunches? Handsome? Love of my life?"

He clears his throat. "Any of those will do fine, yeah."

You grin and kiss his cheek, watching as Jason pulls that soft, shy smile. The same smile he gave you when you said "I do." You'll never forget it.

You snuggle into his chest. Jason wraps his arms around you, throwing a leg over yours.

"What about the gifts?" he asks.

You shrug. "They can wait. Right now, I'm spending quality time with my husband."

His arms tighten around you. "Now that's a name I'll definitely never get tired of being called."

[inktopuck]

juno | quinn hughes social media au (pt.11)

pt. 10

_quinnhughes

Liked by colecaufield, fincanucks and others

_quinnhughes little piece of heaven

trevorzegras oh my god stop rubbing it in my face

colecaufield that's what she said

trevorzegras get out

_quinnhughes he can stay

trevorzegras okay so i'll leave

_quinnhughes fine by me

trevorzegras why do you hate me

yournamehughes quinn trevor won't stop texting me about you hating him please tell him you don't hate him

_quinnhughes no can do babydoll

yournamehughes jack give him back his phone

yournamehughes

Liked by elblue6, bboeser and others

yournamehughes bubba's first time at rogers! and how stunning is daddy??? 😍

jackhughes Y/N for the love of god don't make me read shit like this, idc how stunning you think quinn is

yournamehughes quinn? i was talking about arty!

arturssilovs1 🫶🏻

_quinnhughes watch it

yournamehughes or what

_quinnhughes you know what

jackhughes i'm gonna k*** myself

trevorzegras nooo don't kill yourself ur so hot aha

eliaspettersson in uncle petey's jersey!

yournamehughes you're his favorite

bboeser it's because of that big round shiny head of his

yournamehughes no fights in my comments he loves both of his blonde princesses

elblue6 third gen hockey family!!

colecaufield habs draft pick in a few years!

_quinnhughes over my dead body

colecaufield noted 🔪📝

jackhughes

Liked by _quinnhughes, l_hughes06 and others

jackhughes giving my boy all my wisdom

l_hughes06 so... you're giving him...nothing?

jackhughes and this, theodore, is why uncle lukey has no girlfriend and no friends

l_hughes06 he's 2 years old jack he isn't reading shit

yournamehughes are you the one teaching him all these colorful swear words he's loving at the moment

jackhughes no i am not the reason your child curses like a sailor ask luke

l_hughes06 not me. ask cole

colecaufield i didn't think they were going to curse on drag race!

yournamehughes you didn't think they were going to curse on DRAG RACE

_quinnhughes don't forget to mention his godfather is a massive nerd

jackhughes shut up, 7th overall draft pick, the 1rsts are brainstorming

l_hughes the storm? a bit of drizzle

subbanator oh he's getting those 10 jizzy commandments 🫡

l_hughes06

Liked by elblue6, jackhughes and others

l_hughes06 fuck around and find out #theo

_quinnhughes luke what the fuck is this

jackhughes he left theo alone for 10 minutes in the kitchen while mom was picking up flowers

l_hughes06 i needed to go to the bathroom

_quinnhughes AND YOU COULDN'T TAKE HIM WITH YOU

l_hughes06 bro i draw the line at forcing the kid to stare at the wall while i'm in the toilet

yournamehughes luke why is my child vacuuming

l_hughes06 the caption is self explanatory

yournamehughes did you at least give him a shower before putting him in the onesie?

l_hughes06 ofc do you think i'm a brute

_quinnhughes yes

colecaufield yes

jackhughes yes

elblue6 Luke Warren Hughes is that ALL the flour i had in the house for your father's birthday cake

l_hughes06 ask your grandson

pt. 12

[shisasan]

Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra originally published 1873

[byemambo]

Did I mean so little to you? You were never supposed to mean anything at all.

SMART CHISANUPONG AS JIN

Top Form (2025) | 1.09

[x-crowmancer-x]

Enderpookie seems a bit different >:/??

[heartsforjh]

Huggy Bear

Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader Social AU

previous part here

au masterlist

youruser

liked by _quinnhughes, jackhughes, lhughes_06, and others

youruser life as of late

view all comments

_quinnhughes now who got you those stuffies

youruser _quinnhughes the same man that is constantly THROWING them off of the bed and calling them names !!

jackhughes just buy real flowers atp

lhughes_06 jackhughes 7/10 rage bait. could use some work.

jackhughes lhughes_06 sybau

y/nfan53 ugh i NEED her lifeee

quinnfan52 you’re so strong diva

🔔 _quinnhughes posted to their story!

🔔 youruser posted to their story!

_quinnhughes

liked by lhughes_06, youruser, jackhughes, and others

_quinnhughes purchase wasn’t in vain btw

view all comments

youruser well OBVIOUSLY i’m gonna take care of him no matter what

_quinnhughes youruser exactly

lhughes_06 her little piece of you huh

jackhughes what a stud

y/nfan54 wait this is so cute

quinnfan53 jack and luke in these comments 😭

y/nfan55 why are they having an exposing each other war right now 💀

☘︎ part 15 - here !!

☘︎ dude it’s so scary doing these story edits on my PERSONAL account 😭 one wrong click and i’m DONEEE for! also, SO incredibly sorry for the wait but we are back babyyy! also also, i was actually posting this last night but fell asleep while doing the tags 💀

tags: @beenucks @nic0-hischier @azure-dawn81 @emsdevs @puckmedude @joesnumerouno @alex-wotton @r0wdymaize86 @ccomandercody @randomcuboidshape @when-im-with-you @quillycrow @rainyvalentines @alwaysclassyeagle @ruinix @greensnakegobblep @whitegirlsworld @dancerbailey3 @cheesecakeinahole @multifandom-2091 @falsegod-03 @alexxavicry @minhaimaginacao @chaoticallymessy13

join the taglist here! :)

[madaqueue]

when you get fussy, satoru peppers your face in kisses and holds you so tight until you calm down but. suguru just lets you whine and cry and slam your fists into his chest in frustration with the biggest smile on his face

[heetr]

I want a Heeseung smut with forced eye contact stuff. Maybe, you could also have routine sex but it's unpredictable—like he's hard just watching you wash dishes, style yourself on the vanity, and stuff like that

🐦‍⬛ my ex was like this, and i miss it. a. lot. especially now that i can imagine it’s really heeseung eye me and teasing me in the kitchen instead 😗😗😗😗😗. #imdelusional.

heeseung couldn’t help himself. before he’d met you, he’d been celibate for a while. wanting to give the rest of his body and possibly his children to the one woman he was gonna love for the rest of his life. then you showed up, not necessarily throwing your body at him but you made it known that you wanted him and he could have you anytime.

so he made you his fuck buddy—aka. best friends until you both catch feelings. he took all his sexual frustrations out on you—he kissed you when he had sex with you. you did everything a romantic partner would do, except be romantic partners. “you look hot,” heeseung smirked from the couch.

not only were you a fuck buddy, you were roommates. “i’m cleaning the dishes?” you laughed softly, heeseung nodding to himself. but he saw you wearing one of his old shirts, with nothing underneath—one that stoped just barely above your thighs. “getting turned on by a clean woman? i respect that.” you hadn’t realized he’d walked into the kitchen, leaning against the counter behind you.

checking you out, staring at your ass—how it fit into those panties so well. how the shape of it drew him in, made him harder by the second. his stare was heavy—it was hot.. it had you dripping already. heeseung had to think about how fast (or slow) he wanted to ruin you. it wasn’t even a surprise anymore.. this was your normal routine. “were you created to drive me insane?”

you jumped a bit but finally turned around, in the process of cleaning the sink—water dripped down your thighs and that definitely got him going. “it’s rock hard—.” he sighed, looking like a lost puppy, he looked down at his sweats before peaking at you through his lashes. “wanna help me?” you playfully rolled your eyes, turning back around and finish the sink—when you heard him shift closer, arms curling around your waist as he pressed himself against you.

you were trapped, but in a good way. he grinded himself up against you, moaning deeply before he looked at you again. “feel that? that could be inside of you..” and you were tempted.. right here. right now. on the floor or the counter.. whatever you want.

“don’t look away,” he says, voice low and dark, breath ghosting your lips. his fingers press deeper into your jaw, enough to make your thighs squeeze together instinctively. your heart pounds in your ears as he presses up against you, hard and throbbing, the thick shape of him grinding against your ass through the soft cotton of your shirt. he’s already so worked up, just from watching you stand there, doing nothing but being you. and you fucking love it.

he turned your body around, picking you up and carrying you to the couch. once he sat you down, he couldn’t help but free himself. cock slipping out on stiff. it was literally pointing at you. it seemed to get bigger every time you saw it. “awe~ it’s so red.. and angry.” you leaned in to kiss his tip.

“look at me,” he growls, voice rough and ragged, stroking himself a little before leaning down. eyes on the same level—“you know the rules, baby. you cum when i say. you break eye contact…” he leans in closer, lips barely brushing yours, smirking when you try to chase after the touch, “you don’t get to cum at all.” it’s a threat he’s made good on before, and the reminder has you clenching around nothing, dripping for him.

it’s always like this — it doesn’t matter what you’re doing. folding laundry, brushing your hair at your vanity, reaching for a cup on your tiptoes — heeseung watches you, hungers for you, and when he decides he’s had enough, he takes you. every time is different but just as reckless, just as heated, just as possessive. it’s part of the thrill, part of the reason you’re always just as needy for him.

you can barely breathe when he pushes your panties to the side and slides two fingers inside you without warning, slow and rough, dragging a broken sound from your throat. you nearly choke on a moan, fingers scrambling against the edge of the sink for something to hold onto. your thighs shake with the effort of staying upright, staying good for him, but you don’t look away. you wouldn’t dare.

“such a good little roommate,” heeseung mutters, his voice dropping into something even rougher, almost mocking, as he curls his fingers deep inside you, hitting that spot that makes your eyes roll back. but his grip on your chin is relentless, keeping your gaze pinned, making sure you see the way his lips curve into a cocky, proud smile. “mm, so desperate all the time,” he chuckles under his breath, drawing another choked whimper from you with a sharp flick of his wrist. “lucky for you… so am i.”