#soft quinn is so special

[bambibabyblogger]

i love these two so much, their relationship is so real to me❤️

Elimination - Quinn Hughes x ofc

 gif by @thombordeleau 

Title: Elimination

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn x Sarah

Warnings: Sad Quinn, fluff and comfort, smut (18+ only), unprotected sex, p in v, oral (f receiving), if I missed any others, please let me know. 

Summary: When the Canucks are eliminated from the Stanley Cup Playoffs, Sarah offers Quinn a kind of comfort he didn’t know he needed. 

Word count: 4,200

Comments: This snapshot has been a long time coming. The idea of Sarah comforting Quinn the way she does came to me while I was driving to work one day, and I immediately wrote it down. It took me quite a while to figure Quinn’s family into the story, including his brothers (yes! They're finally here!). 

As I was editing the comfort scene, I found the story continuing in a way I didn’t really expect, but mirrored Before I meet your parents… in a way I couldn’t ignore. 

If you enjoy it, please let me know by commenting or reblogging! Your comments really do inspire me to keep writing! 

Elimination 

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

The playoffs were a whole different beast than Sarah had become accustomed to. Not only was the season much longer than any of the guys were used to, practices were more intense and heated, video more in depth, the need for rest and recovery more acute. She knew first hand how tired the team was because she knew first hand how tired Quinn was. 

In the first round, they'd lost the first game in the series before rallying to win the next three. The Kings won one more before the Canucks stamped them out with the last win coming on home ice in overtime. Despite the final score only being 1-0, it was the most exciting game Sarah had ever been to. 

When she was sitting with Quinns family, Luke had taken to teasing her in that little brother way every time her hands ended up clutching her face with each shot directed at Demko or Talbot. 

“Calm down, Sarah,” he’d said, when she jumped in her seat, hands flying up to cover her mouth as Demko barrel rolled to stop another shot from Kopitar.

She'd sent a playful glare his way, “I'm surprised Kylee hasn't told you you should never tell a woman to calm down. That's a surefire way to get yourself into trouble.” 

Kylee, who was sitting on Lukes other side, snorted. “Oh, I have. He just doesn’t listen.”

Luke took it in stride and laughed. He reminded Sarah so much of her oldest nephew, Ryan. Good natured, friendly and a little bit goofy once she broke through that shy shell.

Sarah glanced at Jack, who was sitting with his some of his cousins farther down the row. His eyes darted away, as if caught staring at something he shouldn’t. 

The strained way he acted around her was getting better, but he was still pretty standoffish toward her. When she asked Quinn what she could do to fix it, he said to just give it time, and Jack would come around eventually. He didn’t think it was actually anything about her, but rather Jack needing time to adjust to the situation. 

“I think he finally realized how serious I am about you.” 

“You’re serious about me?” she’d asked, all flirty lashes and coy smiles. 

“You know I am,” he’d responded before leaning in to kiss her. 

So, she turned back to the game, giving Jack time and hoping he would see  how much she loved his older brother and that she only meant well. 

When Garland shot the overtime goal off a picture perfect pass from Quinn, he managed to catch Talbot above the blocker, sending the puck sailing into the back of the net with a definitive whoosh. 

The stadium erupted into a wall of sound.

The entire team, clad in blue, spilled onto the ice, throwing helmets and gloves, crowding around Conor and Thatcher. 

Quinn was ecstatic that evening. Practically bouncing off the walls of the club they went to to celebrate. Sarah had never seen him so loud - caught up in the atmosphere and moment. 

Halfway through the night, he pulled her into a dim corner and kissed her so thoroughly, she actually considered pulling him into the dingy bathroom to have her way with him right then. 

Jack interrupted, drunkenly loud, and demanded that Quinn come with him for a round of shots. 

Quinn paused, meeting Sarah’s eye. 

“Go celebrate,” she encouraged, trying her best to not come between them. She and Quinn could find a spare moment to celebrate on their own later. 

With his family in his house, that moment hadn’t come, but she was glad to see Quinn celebrating so heartily with his brothers. 

In the second round, after three straight losses to the Predators, Vancouver battled, forcing game five, before dominating in Nashville two nights later, selling their comeback story.

When they got back to town, the whole city was buzzing.

Despite the excitement, game six was awful to watch. Sarah had her hands over her mouth through most of it.  

Now that they were fighting to tie, and the Preds were fighting, once again, to clinch the series, Nashville was playing dirty: exploiting every Canucks weakness they could find. They needled, drawing penalty after stupid, preventable penalty until they were three goals up at the end of the second period. 

Quinn was exhausted. Sarah could see it in his skating and in the slumped set of his shoulders as they went into the dressing room for the intermission.

She sent him a text, I’m so proud of you. 

He didn't reply, but they battled back, holding off all Preds offense and getting within a goal by the time Demko was pulled at the end of the third. Quinn battled fiercely to keep the puck in the offensive zone for more than a minute, giving a master class on body-eye coordination as he skirted the blue line, dodging Nashville players as if someone were controlling him with a top ice view. 

Their passes were perfect: tic-tac-toe from Quinn to Mikheyev to Lafferty, but as Sam tried to get the puck to Hollander, the pass was intercepted.

Nashville fought to center ice and chipped the puck into the Vancouver end. 

Quinn chased it, but he just didn't have enough in the tank. He caught up just as the puck bounced back out of the open net. 

Full of frustration and despair, he smacked it into the boards. Caught at just the right angle, the puck ricocheted back at him, and he had to lift a hand to block it from hitting him in the face. 

Sarah could practically see the frustrated embarrassment radiating off him as he skated to sit down. 

Demko was pulled again and Quinn managed to get the empty netter back, but through the ugly march of time, the clock expired before they could score another. 

The buzzer sounded and Nashville celebrated, throwing equipment all over the ice, all hugging and jumping as the Canucks limped into the dressing room. 

Even despite the disappointment of losing, everyone was thrilled to see them get this far. Going from the middle of the pack last season to top of the league this year was no small feat. She knew Quinn wouldn’t be satisfied until they got the cup, but she was so proud of him. 

He sent a text, telling them to go home and he would meet them there when he was done with the media. 

It was torture for Sarah to have to leave and wait for him. She wished she could go down to the dressing room, but knew not only would she not be allowed in, Quinn would hate it. He would want to talk with her privately. 

Everyone was subdued as they puttered around the apartment, waiting for him. Both Jack and Luke were on their phones, sprawled out over the living room furniture. Ellen, Jim and Kylee were doing something in the kitchen. Sarah was too nervous to even distract herself. Quinn had lost before, of course, but she’d never seen him lose like this — not this kind of a season-ending, brutal loss. 

When the elevator dinged, Sarah jumped to her feet, his family following suit, clambering into the living room.

To her surprise, Quinn came straight to her, not even bothering to shut the door behind him. His suit was rumpled, his tie attempting to slither out of his breast pocket. When she wrapped him in her arms, he practically collapsed against her. 

Ellen knew Quinn loved and trusted Sarah and that he spent far more time with her these days, but it was still a bit shocking when he bypassed them all to go straight to her for comfort.

Sarah reacted in a way Ellen never had and upon seeing the scene play out, she realized Sarah’s reaction may have been something Quinn had been longing for for a long time.

She would usually hug him for a while, before talking him down. They would soon end up dissecting shifts and plays. He would lament how he could have been better, and she would try to comfort him while still being realistic. 

Sarah just stood there, holding him. She didn't say a word, even when Quinn started to cry softly. She just ran a hand into his wet hair, while the other traveled slowly up and down his back. 

 She didn't assure or placate him, or even try to get him to stop crying. She just let him express the emotion without judgment or commentary. It hit Ellen suddenly that Sarah reacted this way because she had dealt with so much sorrow in her life, she knew how to comfort in these hard moments. 

The family stood by and watched. She didn’t look up and meet their eyes with a conspiratorial, he’ll be alright, look, or invite them into the embrace. Her whole intention was focused on Quinn. 

While it was sweet to see them together in this way, it was also a little awkward to watch, especially for the boys, who looked like they had no idea what to do.

It was full minutes before anyone said anything, and even then, it was just Sarah asking if he wanted to sit down. He shook his head so she did a little two-step, and kept on. 

As Ellen watched them interact, it was obvious how much they meant to and understood each other. It was so sweet to witness her son finding the person he needed that she pulled out her phone to record them, wanting to document the moment. 

When they finally spoke, Ellen was glad she was filming. 

“I let everyone down,” Quinn said, his voice choked with emotion, just above a whisper. 

“No.” Her voice was quite loud, the word definitive, leaving no room for doubt. It was a bit shocking to hear Sarah be so forceful.

Taking his jaw, she gently lifted his head up so he had to look into her eyes. 

“No,” she repeated, her voice a little softer now. “This wasn't only your fault, and it didn't happen because of anything you did by yourself.”

Ellen wasn’t sure she would go that far… If he had gone for a change, someone with fresh legs may have been able to chase down that empty netter.

“You don’t win as a team, but lose by yourself. That’s not how this works.”

Now she understood where Sarah was going. 

“I know this run is ending sooner than you wanted and I'd be more concerned if you weren't sad.” She paused for a long moment, looking into his eyes as if she was searching for something. When she didn’t find it, she continued, “I just - I want you to remember that I don't love you because you play hockey.” 

His lower lip trembled and Ellen felt hers do the same. 

“I love you because of this big, kind heart,” she said as she pressed a hand to his chest, “and because of this brilliant, thoughtful mind,” her other hand slid into the hair at his temple. “And those are the same as they were this morning. You're so much more than hockey.”

He was looking at her like she'd hung the moon. 

Ellen felt tears slip down her own cheeks. All her life, she’d been trying to strike a balance with her boys - trying to find the right way to tell them hockey was just a part of who they are. And here Sarah was, walking into their life, and saying the exact thing Ellen had been trying to say all along. 

Right then and there, the remaining reservations she had about Sarah were swept onto the back burner. She knew it would still take some getting used to, but how could she not love this woman standing in front of her, telling her son she loved him for who he was and not for the things he did? It was all she could ask for as a mother. 

She glanced over at Jack, who looked a little dumbfounded, as if seeing Sarah for the first time. Luke was smiling in a glad, knowing way, his arm looped around Kylee. 

Jim, standing on Ellen’s other side had a mixture of pride and disappointment on his face. Ellen knew he was going to battle with himself at the thought of Quinn crying over being eliminated. When they were kids, he would have told the boys to buck up, despite Ellen’s insistence it was okay for them to express their sadness for a little while. 

The happiness at seeing someone accept Quinn as he was won out, and Jim put his arm around Ellen with a conspiratorial smile.

“Of course you’re going to be sad,” Sarah continued. “Like I said, I’d be more concerned if you weren’t. But you,” she poked him gently in the chest to emphasize her point, “sure as hell didn’t let me down.” 

Quinn threw his arms around her in a fierce hug. “I love you.”   

“I love you, too.” 

He wiped at his eyes, then turned to the family. They embraced him one by one. 

After she’d hugged Quinn, Ellen went to Sarah, “I don’t know how you did that,” she said, pulling her close, “but that was exactly what he needed.” 

When Quinn made his way back to Sarah, he kissed her temple. His eyes were still red, cheeks still splotched with color, but he looked settled. Not satisfied or happy, really, but settled.

Later that night, Ellen sent the video to her sister, making her promise to not share it with anyone. She just needed someone else to see the tenderness. 

Oh, Elle, I'm so glad Quinn finally found a good one. I can't wait to meet her. 

At the same time Ellen was texting her sister, Quinn was lying next to Sarah in bed. Her words from earlier replaying over and over again in his thoughts. 

He'd practically begged her to stay over. She hadn't planned to with his family in the house, but he felt a bit needy and wanted the comfort of her next to him. 

“Thank you for tonight,” he said, turning to her.

She rolled onto her side so they were face to face. “I'm always gonna be in your corner, Quinn.”

Leaning in, he kissed her - gently at first, but it soon turned more passionate. 

The fact that they would be apart before too long was on both their minds as they made love that night. 

“Oh, Quinn. Right there, right there,” she chanted, voice soft. 

The simple fact that he could make her feel this way made his heart feel full to bursting. At least he hadn't lost that. 

Keeping eye contact, his hand traced to her left knee and pulled it up over his hip. He didn’t want her to have the same old orgasm. Not tonight. A big part of him wanted to prove he could still excel here.

Head tipping back, Sarah panted.  

His other hand came up to guide her chin back down. 

The way she clenched around him when their eyes met made his hips stutter.

She lifted herself up to catch his mouth. It changed the angle of his thrusts, making his whole body quiver. He tried to brace against it, slowing down and concentrating on kissing the breath out of her. 

It worked in that they were both breathless before too long, but didn't ease the feeling of being pulled to the very edge of his restraint. The competitive streak inside him wasn't about to allow himself to come before she did - especially not tonight, when he had so much left to prove. 

“No,” she gasped  when he pulled away. “I was right there.”

He laughed into her skin. “I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart,” he said, before tracing his mouth over her clavicle and trailing his tongue between her breasts, savoring the salty taste of her skin. 

The blankets pulled with him as he settled between her legs, and Sarah gasped as the cool air of his room hit her. 

She looked so ethereal in a pool of soft light from one of the skylights, her chest rising and falling at a hurried, steady pace. 

“God, you're beautiful,” he whispered. 

Times like these, Quinn still wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed to find Sarah. She seemed to be his perfect match in every way. It wasn’t always smooth sailing - nothing ever was. This summer was sure to take a toll on their relationship. He knew, somehow, they would come out on the other side, better and stronger, but all the same, he wasn’t looking forward to spending so many nights without her. 

Pushing that worry out of his mind, he concentrated the task at hand and lowered his mouth to her hot center. 

It was his turn to give thanks.

She was acutely aware of his family in the apartment: brothers on the floor below, while his parents were down the hall. They were never particularly loud in bed, but the thought of his family overhearing hushed her vocal cords even more. 

“Quinn,” she whimpered.

He ate up every whisper, every little whine and panted breath, knowing they were just for him. 

Making some unintelligible noise, her back arched, lifting off the mattress. 

She whined when he eased two fingers into her and lifted his mouth. 

“Help me find it?” he whispered, crooking his fingers.

“Higher.”

He moved slowly, not wanting to go too fast and pass over it.  

“There, there,” she panted. 

Reaching up with his free hand, he disentangled her fingers from the sheet so he could grasp her hand, linking them together.

“You can press a little harder. It’s not as sen -” her voice broke off into a groaned, “oh, fuck,” as he urged that soft, spongey spot with a heavier touch. 

They’d done this more after his revelatory first time, and he loved discovering new things about her. He still had a hard time finding her g-spot on his own, but he was learning. Tonight felt like a whole new ego stroke, one he was seeking if he was being honest with himself.

His mind wandered back to the first time he’d touched her, the way she’d reminded him of Helen of Troy - beautiful beyond belief. He ached for her the same way now as he watched her fall apart. Mouth dropped open as her body pulled taught as a bow string, one hand grasping the headboard for stability while the other clutched his like a vice.

As she came down from her high, he kept his fingers pressed into her.

Even as she squirmed against the sensitivity from his strong touch, she felt a blaze of pleasure reignite in her belly, faster than it ever had before. 

Still kneading with his fingertips, he lowered down, sucking her sensitive pearl into his mouth. She let out a strangled cry that left him dizzy with satisfaction. 

The contrast of his warm mouth and soft tongue on her core against the harsh rasp of his playoff beard on her inner thighs wound her tighter and tighter until he was sparking so much ecstasy in her body, she couldn't quite remember why she was trying to be so quiet.

Her fingers tightened in his at the same time her legs trembled and he knew she was close. He continued on, mouth soft and steady while his fingers worked with more focused intent. 

The way she whimpered his name made him groan and rock his hips into the mattress to get a bit of relief.

When the tension in her pelvis finally snapped, Sarah cried out. 

It was only after she came back to herself and he eased his fingers from her that she worried about how loud she'd been. 

Before she could ask, he knocked her breathless again as he slid his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them with apparent relish. 

“Did I yell?” she whispered as he crawled back over her. 

He shook his head, “not too loud. I don't think they heard.”

The anxiety ebbed away as he leaned in to kiss her. 

“Can you turn over?” he asked, lips barely grazing hers. 

She pulled back to look into his face. 

“I want to make you feel good,” he said. 

“You already did. Twice.”

“Please?” he asked, ghosting his lips over her cheek, “let me make you come one more time.” In reality, Quinn was tired, but his pride was insistent, eager to feel her one more time. He knew if  he got her on her stomach she’d come faster than in missionary. 

He could see worry in her expression, but she did as he asked, the sheets clinging briefly to her back as she rolled. 

One of his hands grazed down her side, following the curvature of her hip before tracing her hamstring all the way to the knee. Hooking his hand there, he eased her leg out to the side. 

He really was spoiling her. Eagle with a broken wing was her favorite position other than missionary, but they didn’t do it terribly often, both generally preferring to see the other when they were together. 

She felt Quinn’s heat before any of his skin, and raised her hips slightly to facilitate him. 

“You’re —” she broke off into a groan as he eased into her again. She was so sensitive, she was fairly certain she would have fallen apart all over again if he had given her an intense enough look. Heat was already climbing up her spine and he hadn't even moved yet. 

When his hands appeared near hers as he braced on his forearms, she moved to lace her fingers through his. 

When he began to thrust, he felt her fingers curl until her nails kissed his palms  

Listening to her sweet sounds, he couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted to live in her forever.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, chaos sparking all over her skin. “I didn't think I could come this many times so quickly.”

Her hushed statement rushed to his head. “Sarah,” he moaned into her neck. “Fuck, Sarah.” 

His mouth traced the curve of her neck before gently biting the ridge of her shoulder.

The prick of pain from his teeth combined with the way he was hitting her g spot in a steady, continuous rhythm had Sarah’s mouth falling open. “Oh. Quinn,” she moaned. “Just like that. Please don't stop.” 

He rested his forehead on her back, feeling out of his mind with pleasure and pride.

Only after he felt her tremble and pulse around him and chanting that he loved her, he let himself go, spilling into her with a loud groan he tried to muffle into her skin. 

They stayed that way for a long while, his sweaty chest pressed into her back. He was a comfortable weight, pressing her into the mattress.

Quinn talked himself into moving and eased out, his wince matching the breath she hissed through her teeth. Before he could decide which side to roll onto, she was turning onto her back, and pulling him into her embrace. 

Resting his head on her chest, he sighed. 

Sarah smiled, tired but gratified and pushed a lock of hair off his forehead. She wanted to get up and go to the bathroom, but waited, knowing Quinn needed this extra affection.

“I don't…” he started to say, then trailed off, slowly tracing a circle around her belly button. 

He had never felt supported and loved like he had today. Not only when she just let him cry, but when she reminded him that she loved the things about him that weren't his job. 

Quinn hadn't known how much he needed to hear Sarah’s words until she was saying them. His whole family was so entwined in hockey that, even though he knew his parents loved him, it sometimes felt like his success and failure in the arena were wrapped up in their affection and approval. It was one of the reasons Jack always felt like the favorite child, as he had the most natural talent. 

“You don't?” she urged when he didn’t say anything else.

He shook his head and took a steadying breath. “I feel like I don't deserve you.” 

A little smile played on her lips, “I feel that way sometimes, too, but I'm not really sure it's about deserving. Everyone deserves love.” 

She paused for a long time playing with his hair. It relaxed Quinn, causing him to practically melt into her.

“I'm glad we're both willing to put in the work and try to meet in the middle,” she said quietly.

He agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of her breast.

As they stayed that way for a long time, Quinn felt cocooned in her love and hoped she felt the same. 

“Okay,” she said a little while later, starting to feel sticky and itchy, “I’m sorry, but I really need to shower, or at least rinse off.” 

They took a quick shower, and Quinn changed the fitted sheet as she redid her skincare. 

When they finally fell asleep tangled together, she in a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt, and he in his boxers, it was well after 3. 

After sleeping like the dead, Quinn woke close to ten, still feeling that strong swell of gratitude easing the disappointment in his chest. 

If anyone in his family had heard them, they were all excellent actors, and didn't say a thing. 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist 

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[poisonousquinzel]

soft smitten lil clown

Harley Quinn (2021 - ) #34

Cover D Variant 1:25; Card Stock | Artist: Jessica Fong

[josephquinncurl]

Joseph Quinn Appreciation Week 🥳

Thanks to @heroeddiemunson and @ellie-joel for the project.

Day 1: Favorite role: Eddie Munson

It's impossible not to chose Eddie. Everything about him is interesting, fun, witty, silly and attractive. There is definitely no one else who could have played Eddie and make him this popular and relatable. Joseph improv scenes and charisma shined through Eddie and I'll will always love how he played him and all his choices to make Eddie much more than the writers intended him to be.

The effect Eddie had on social media is also something that blows my mind, how many of us came back to Tumblr cause of him, he trended for days and weeks when stranger things came out, took over tik tok edits and made Joseph have his own fandom.

I will always love Eddie and at the end is all thanks to joe and his talent and work. Canon Eddie is my favorite too for this reason is what made us all fall in love with him and gave us so much more room for play. Truly an incredible character played brilliantly by Joe.

[voyter]

CRIMINAL ! ... halloween special

pairing jeon jungkook x fem!reader

your boyfriend ends up loving your costume idea for the two of you more than he initially lets on.

word count 5.4k words warnings jk and oc have matching costumes. vmin being the kings of halloween parties. slight crack. smut. roleplay dynamics. light bondage (handcuffs). oral (fem!receiving). handjob. unprotected sex (be safe girlies). switch!jungkook. switch!reader.

★ happy (late) halloween !!! this was originally supposed to be posted on the 30th but it wasnt finished .. so i was going to post it on actual halloween day but i got busy LMFAO IM A MESS !!! initially i wanted to do a kinktober but my ass couldnt even keep up with this so AINT NO WAYYY LMFAO IDK HOW YALL DO IT. BUT DONT FEAR ITS HERE NOW !! i had sm fun writing this, hope you love it as much as i do !! keep your comments positive or say nothing at all xx

For the past three years, Jimin and Taehyung have hosted their annual Halloween party. It's the one event they take seriously, spending hours planning the perfect invite list, décor, and food. Friends and acquaintances eagerly anticipate the night, knowing it'll be full of unforgettable moments, laughter, and chaos. Jimin and Taehyung always go all out, making their Halloween gathering the event of the season.

You and Jungkook have a tradition of matching costumes. The first year, you went as Harley Quinn, and Jungkook went as the Joker. That one's still one of your favorites — especially with Jungkook's green hair and tatted up face. He looked so good that night. The second year, you went for something bloodier: you, a sexy victim, and Jungkook as Ghostface. It was thrilling, especially when he made the night even better by fucking you with the mask still on. By the third year, you went classic as Mr. and Mrs. Smith, and Jungkook couldn't take his eyes off your tits spilling out of your corset. This year, you decided to skip the fictional characters and go with something a little simpler — but still hot. You were dressed as a cop, or rather, a slutty cop, and Jungkook was the prisoner.

"Don't you think this is a little basic?"

“Do you know how many people I’ve seen at these parties dressed as vampires and cats?” you retort, adjusting your costume and checking yourself out in the mirror. “Trust me, baby, no one cares.”

Jungkook, clad in an orange jumpsuit, glares at you through the mirror. "I just hate orange," he says monotonously.

You turn around and face him, giving him a smirk. "You'll survive. Besides, you make anything look good."

He smirks, leaning down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. Your arms snake around his neck, fingers threading through the hair at his nape. His hands roam from your waist to your ass, squeezing the soft flesh in his large palms, pulling you closer. But just as things start to heat up, you push him back with a playful grin.

"Not now," you say, breathlessly. "We have to be there in a few."

Jungkook huffs in frustration, but doesn't argue. And even though he's not thrilled about his costume, the way his gaze darkens tells you he's already imagining what's to come later tonight. He knows he'll get you out of that outfit later. 

When you and Jungkook walk into the party, it’s all familiar faces. Laughter and cheers erupt the moment they spot you two, with Jungkook’s arms handcuffed behind his back, the bright orange of his jumpsuit standing out in the crowd. You guide him confidently by gripping his arm, playing the role of the stern cop escorting her prisoner.

Jungkook looks equal parts annoyed and amused, his usual cocky attitude momentarily restrained by the handcuffs, though the way his lips twitch hints at his playful frustration. The room seems to buzz with energy as people start teasing him the moment you step through the door.

“No fucking way you agreed to this!” Jimin exclaims, eyes wide in disbelief as he takes in the sight of Jungkook in handcuffs. Without missing a beat, he grabs the camera hanging around his neck, the polaroid already set and ready to capture every costume of the night. “Oh, I have to take a picture of this. Tae, hold my drink!”

Without waiting for a response, Jimin thrusts his red solo cup into Taehyung’s chest, some of the liquid sloshing out and soaking into Taehyung’s blazer. Tae rolls his eyes but doesn’t complain, knowing this is typical Jimin behavior.

Jimin hurriedly pushes his sunglasses up into his hair and pulls out the polaroid camera, eyes gleaming with excitement as he positions himself in front of you. You smirk, grabbing your belt, keeping your expression serious like a true cop on duty. Jungkook plays along, tilting his head to the side with a playful pout, his lips pursed like he’s posing for a dramatic mugshot.

With a click, the camera flashes, capturing the moment perfectly. A second later, the familiar buzz of the camera sounds as the polaroid slowly rises from the slot at the top. Jimin pulls the photo out, shaking it lightly as the image begins to develop.

“Had no choice,” Jungkook grumbles. “Whatever girlfriend wants, girlfriend gets.”

Taehyung laughs, shaking his head. “Bro, you’re so fucking whipped,” he teases.

“Fuck off,” Jungkook mutters, though he can’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “What are you two supposed to be, anyway?”

Jimin looks genuinely offended at the question, pulling his sunglasses back down over his eyes as if that alone should make it obvious. “Hello? Men in Black!”

He points his plastic gun at Jungkook. Beside him, Taehyung pulls out a shiny MIB card.

“Aw, I was really hoping you two would take my advice and go as Dumb and Dumber,” you pout, crossing your arms dramatically.

Jimin and Taehyung exchange offended looks, grimacing at your suggestion.

Jimin puts his plastic gun back in its holster with a flourish, shaking his head. “Respectfully, fuck you,” he replies, a teasing glint in his eyes.

You playfully lift a hand as if to strike him, your expression mock serious. Just then, more people start to stream into the home, their laughter and chatter filling the air.

“Well, since we are so extremely popular, we’ll meet back up with you guys soon.” Jimin says, turning to Taehyung, “We’ve got more people to greet.”

“Don’t get freaky in any of the bedrooms! I swear on my life I will kill you both,” Taehyung exclaims, shooting a warning glance over his shoulder as he follows Jimin into the crowd.

You roll your eyes, amusement dancing in your gaze.

"Alright, baby, can you take the handcuffs off now, please?" Jungkook whines, eyebrows knitting in genuine discomfort. "My arms are starting to hurt in this position."

"Keep begging like that, maybe I will," you tease, enjoying the playful power dynamic between you two.

Jungkook smirks, leaning in closer to amp up the charm. "Oh, please, officer? I promise I'll be such a good boy,"

You scrunch your nose in exaggerated disapproval. "Never do that again," you reply, trying to sound serious but unable to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

He chuckles, the sound warm and inviting, as you turn him around, your fingers brushing against his wrists. The thrill of the moment sends a rush through you as you unlock the cuffs with the small key, the metal clinking softly as you release him.

He turns around, his hands sneaking around your waist and pulling you closer, the warmth of his body igniting a spark of electricity between you. You smile up at him, feeling a thrill at the proximity.

“Shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his voice low and playful. “Now who knows what kind of crimes I’m gonna commit again?” He looks down at you, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Careful, prisoner,” you warn, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Don’t forget, I’m watching you tonight.”

He holds his hands up in mock defense, a grin spreading across his face. “I promise to behave… for now,” he replies, the challenge in his tone clear as he leans in just a little closer.

You can feel the heat radiating off him, and despite your attempt to keep things light, the air feels charged with unspoken tension. “You’d better,” you say, trying to maintain an authoritative tone but failing as a smile breaks through. “I don’t take kindly to rule breakers.”

“Oh, I know,” he replies, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial tone. “But I can’t help it if I’m naturally inclined to break the rules when I’m around you.” With that, he leans in, brushing his lips against your ear as he whispers, “What if I promised to make it worth your while?”

A shiver runs down your spine at his words, and you step back slightly to meet his gaze, your heart racing. “You’re incorrigible,” you say, shaking your head, but your smile betrays your amusement.

“Only for you,” he quips, and the way he looks at you… you just know this Halloween night was going to be wild.

You stood corrected.

A few drinks into Jungkook's system, and any pretense of annoyance about the costume was long gone. His hands seemed to find your waist every chance they got, fingers tracing the curves of your hips with a needy grip. His lips, once teasing, were now constantly seeking yours, trailing kisses from your neck to your lips whenever you were within arm's reach.

Even in a crowded room, Jungkook's attention was locked on you, his dark gaze following your every movement. And each time you caught him staring, he'd flash you a cheeky grin before pulling you into another heated kiss, making it clear just how much he was enjoying your costume — and the power it had over him.

Getting a drunk Jungkook home was a damn task. The moment you got him in the car, he was all over you. As you navigated through the quiet streets, his fingers slid up your thigh, kneading it with a firm grip that sent sparks of heat racing through you. Each touch made focusing on the road harder, especially when he leaned over the console, his lips grazing your neck in a series of lazy, warm kisses.

"Jungkook, you need to calm down," you warned, trying to keep your focus on the road as his kisses sent shivers down your spine.

He huffed, not wanting to stop but eventually relented, throwing himself back into his seat dramatically. He crossed his arms like a child who'd been denied his favorite toy, his lips forming a deep pout.

You glanced over at him, biting back a smile as he sulked in his seat. "Aw, I’m sorry baby. Almost home, then you can do whatever you want," you teased, knowing full well that his patience would snap the second you both stepped through the front door.

Like a bunny, his ears seemed to perk up at your words, his pout disappearing instantly. He sat back in his seat with a huge grin plastered on his face, the sudden shift in his mood almost comical. It was as if he'd forgotten all about sulking, now fully focused on the promise you'd made.

Surprisingly, Jungkook behaved as you both got out of the car and made your way to your apartment floor. He walked beside you quietly, though the anticipation was clear in the way he kept glancing at you, his grin never fully fading. His restraint was impressive, given how wild he'd been earlier, but you could feel the tension radiating off him, like a predator waiting for the perfect moment.

The second you unlocked the door, though, all that restraint snapped. Jungkook practically pounced, pushing the door closed behind you as he pressed you against it, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss. His hands were everywhere at once — grabbing your waist, pulling you closer, one hand sliding up your back while the other dipped dangerously low.

Your sloppy kisses didn't break for a second as you stumbled through the apartment, laughter and heated breaths filling the air until you reached the bedroom. The second you got to the edge of the bed, Jungkook gave you a playful shove, making you fall back onto the mattress with a grin tugging at his lips. His eyes never left yours as he hovered above you, reconnecting your lips in a feverish kiss, his hunger for you palpable.

His mouth began its slow descent, trailing kisses down the curve of your neck, leaving a warm, tingling path in its wake. When he reached your cleavage, he paused, his lips lingering there as his fingers found the zipper of your bodysuit. With a swift motion, he unzipped it, freeing your breasts from the fabric. His eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you, a low groan escaping his throat.

Without hesitation, he leaned down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it in slow, deliberate circles. The sensation sent a shudder through your body, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as your back arched in response. Your hand instinctively found its way into his hair, gripping the soft strands, guiding him as he lavished attention on you.

Jungkook's mouth left your bud with a soft pop, his lips slightly swollen as he looked at you with a mix of desire and admiration. Without wasting a second, he pushed the rest of the bodysuit down your frame, his hands quick and eager as he stripped you of the remaining fabric.

“You seduce all the officers like this?” you tease, your voice light but laced with a hint of challenge as you looked down at him at the foot of the bed.

Jungkook paused for a second, momentarily confused by the question. But then it clicked, and when he realized you were still playing into the roleplay from earlier, his expression shifted. His lips curled into a mischievous smirk, eyes narrowing slightly as he fully embraced the dynamic again.

“Only the ones I can’t resist,” Jungkook murmured, his voice dripping with playful seduction.

His teasing words sent a shiver down your spine, the tension between you both thickening with every passing second. His hands moved with skilled precision as he unzipped your boots, tugging them off one by one. The boots were discarded carelessly, the clatter of them hitting the floor barely registering as Jungkook’s focus remained fixed on you, eyes dark and full of hunger.

With a firm grip, Jungkook tugged at the bodysuit, sliding it off your frame in one fluid motion, the fabric slipping away as easily as the last remnants of his restraint. He didn’t stop there — your fishnets followed quickly, leaving you in nothing but your panties. His gaze devoured you, his eyes darkening with each lingering second on your bare skin. He bit into his bottom lip, his excitement almost palpable as his eyes traced every curve of your body like he was committing each inch to memory.

Grabbing your ankle, he lifted your leg gently, a smirk playing on his lips as he began a slow, deliberate trail of kisses from your ankle up toward your inner thigh. Each kiss sent a jolt of heat through your body, his touch maddeningly slow, teasing you with every lingering press of his lips.

“If you’ll let me,” he murmured against your skin, his voice husky and full of promise, before kissing your thigh once more. “I did promise to make it worth your while.”

“Show me what you got, criminal,” you smirk, your voice laced with challenge and desire.

Jungkook’s smirk matched yours, his eyes darkening with intent as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties. In one swift, fluid motion, he pulled them down, the fabric sliding easily over your legs. The second they left your skin, his gaze fixed on the damp spot left behind, a low moan escaping his lips as his hunger for you deepened.

“Look at that,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. His fingers traced the wetness left on the cloth before lifting his eyes to meet yours, his smirk widening. “Already so wet for me, officer.”

The playful teasing from earlier had melted away completely, replaced with raw, undeniable need. Without hesitation, Jungkook lowered himself between your legs, his breath hot against your inner thighs. His lips hovered just above your core, his eyes flicking up to meet yours one last time before he leaned in, determined to show you exactly what he had in store. His tongue made the first slow, deliberate pass over your slick folds, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through your body.

Your body reacted instinctively to the sensation, arching your back slightly as a soft moan escaped your lips. You melted into the bed, fingers gripping the sheets tightly as waves of pleasure rippled through you, the intensity of it all leaving you breathless. 

It was when he latched his mouth onto your clit, the cool metal of his lip piercing sending shockwaves through your body, that you felt a fresh wave of ecstasy wash over you. Your body shook involuntarily, a reaction to the exquisite pleasure he was delivering.

“So good, baby,” you moaned, your voice breathy and filled with longing as you looked down at the man between your legs. Jungkook’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, dark and smoldering, the corner of his mouth twitching into a playful smirk as he enjoyed your reaction to his ministrations. 

"Yeah?" he mumbled, his lips brushing against your slick heat, sending a shiver up your spine. "Am I a good criminal, officer?"

Though it had started as playful banter back at Jimin and Taehyung’s house, the way Jungkook was slipping into this submissive role now felt different — kind of sexy. The intensity in his voice, the way he was looking up at you, it was doing things to you that you hadn’t quite expected.

You bit your lip, nodding as you reached down, finding his hand and intertwining your fingers with his. "Mhm, so good for me," you whispered, the words coming out more breathless than you intended. The shift in the dynamic added a new layer to the tension between you both, and you couldn’t deny how much you liked it.

He hummed in satisfaction against your skin, his tongue working skillfully, each stroke more deliberate than the last, as if determined to draw every last sound of pleasure from your lips. You could feel the tension building within you, and with every flick and suck, he pushed you further into a state of bliss. The warmth of his mouth, combined with the gentle squeeze of his hand in yours, only heightened the sensations coursing through your body. You could feel yourself unraveling, bit by bit, under his expert touch.

You lift your other hand, your fingers tangling in his soft, raven hair, pushing it back to reveal his forehead. The sight of his knitted eyebrows makes your stomach flip — he always does that when he’s savoring something, and right now, that something is you. Your grip tightens in his hair, pulling him closer, pushing his face deeper into you. His nose brushes against your clit with each motion, and you can't help but buck your hips slightly, your body moving instinctively as you practically ride his face.

Your moans become louder, filling the room with the raw sound of pleasure, almost pornographic in intensity. The way his mouth moves against you, his tongue expertly flicking and teasing, drives you wild. You feel his moans vibrate against your sopping pussy, sending shockwaves through your entire body. The more you push him into you, the more he responds, his hands gripping your thighs as he devours you, thoroughly enjoying every second of it. You’re lost in the heat of the moment, each wave of pleasure building to something inevitable, your body teetering on the edge of bliss.

With one final buck of your hips, his nose pressing firmly against your clit, the pleasure overwhelms you. Your release crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body trembling as you cum against his face. A loud, raw moan tears from your throat, your back arching off the bed as the intensity of your orgasm takes over. Your thighs instinctively begin to close around Jungkook’s head, but he doesn’t mind in the slightest — if anything, it only drives him further.

He stays right there, nestled between your legs, his tongue continuing to lap up every drop of your release. If he had it his way, he'd happily stay there forever. His hand gently caresses your thighs, soothing you through the aftershocks as your body relaxes, your breathing still ragged as you come down from the high.

Jungkook removes his hand from yours gently, rising up from the floor. Fully clothed, he crawls up the bed, hovering above you with a smirk that sends a thrill down your spine. His mouth glistens with a mix of his saliva and your slick, a tantalizing reminder of what just transpired. 

Without warning, he leans down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. The taste of yourself lingers on his tongue, and you can’t help but moan into his mouth, the intimacy of the moment amplifying the heat between you. You feel him grinding his hips into your heat, seeking relief for the ache in his cock, and it drives you wild. The friction ignites another wave of desire, your body responding eagerly to his every movement.

He leans back down, reconnecting your lips, unable to get enough of you. The urgency in his movements tells you he's craving more, needing the connection as much as you do. Without breaking the kiss, you smoothly shift positions, pushing him back onto the bed. His body sinks into the mattress, and now it's your turn to be on top, looking down at him with a teasing smile. You sit up, fingers working the buttons of his jumpsuit as he watches you, his eyes dark with desire.

"Do good prisoners get anything in return?" he asks, his voice low, teasing.

"Yeah," you say with a smirk. "Freedom."

Your giggle fills the room as Jungkook kisses his teeth in mock annoyance, rolling his eyes at your cheeky response. Still, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, showing he's just as amused as you are.

"I'm sure there's other officers that'll give you something," you tease, your fingers still working on the jumpsuit.

"What if I want someone in particular?" he responds, his tone more serious, the heat in his gaze intensifying.

"I'm sure that can be arranged," you murmur.

With a smirk, Jungkook sits up swiftly, his hands making quick work of pulling the jumpsuit off his frame. The fabric falls away, revealing his toned, broad chest — the very sight that always makes your breath hitch. You can't help but admire him for a moment, your eyes roaming over every inch of him, from his sculpted chest to the way his abs tense under your gaze.

He catches the look in your eyes, his grin widening as he notices how you're practically staring. "Like what you see, officer?" he teases.

Ugh, slut.

"You know I do," you reply, your fingers tracing over the tattoos decorating his skin before you press your lips against his again, losing yourself in the kiss as your bodies draw closer.

Your kisses travel south, lips brushing over the warm skin of his neck, chest, and abs, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. When you kneel between his legs, you can't help but notice how hard he is. A wet spot glistens where he’d been grinding against you earlier, evidence of the friction that’s left you both desperate for more.

"Baby, hurry up," Jungkook whines, his voice thick with impatience, the need evident in his tone.

You raise an eyebrow, biting back a smirk. "Refer to me correctly," you command, wanting to tease him just a little longer.

He chuckles softly. "Officer, please hurry up," he says, playing along, his words dripping with need.

“Good boy,” you coo with a smile.

Your fingers hook under the waistband of his jumpsuit and boxers simultaneously, yanking them down in one swift motion. His cock springs free, hard and eager, the pink tip glistening with precum. It’s begging to be touched, twitching slightly under your gaze as you admire him, and you can feel the heat radiating off him.

You let your hand glide slowly up his thigh, teasing him with featherlight touches, savoring the way his muscles tense under your fingers. Jungkook's head falls back against the mattress, a low, desperate moan slipping from his lips as he exhales, his chest rising and falling with the anticipation building between you.

You giggle softly, enjoying how easily you’re driving him wild. Finally, you wrap your hand around his thick, hard cock, your fingers squeezing his length gently but firmly. His reaction is immediate — his hips buck slightly as he lets out a deep, shaky moan.

"Oh, fuck yeah," he groans, his voice low and husky, the sound making you smile even wider.

You start to stroke him slowly, enjoying the feeling of him pulsing in your hand. His hands grip the sheets, knuckles turning white, and his eyes squeeze shut in bliss. The way he reacts to every little movement you make has you feeling powerful, completely in control.

"My pussy turn you on this much?" you tease, your voice dripping with playfulness, a smirk tugging at your lips as you continue to stroke him slowly, deliberately.

Jungkook's moan deepens, his hips bucking slightly into your hand, completely at your mercy.

"Always," he groans, his voice breathless. "Can never get enough of it."

Such a sweet boy. You reward him by quickening your strokes, picking up the pace and driving him wild. His response is immediate — his body tenses, and a low, guttural moan escapes his lips.

Jungkook's hand darts to yours, gripping the one resting on his thigh, his fingers intertwining with yours tightly. His touch is needy, desperate, as if holding on to you will keep him grounded while the pleasure you’re giving him threatens to overwhelm him.

His breath becomes ragged as you continue working him expertly. He bites his lip, trying to hold himself together under your touch. You can tell he’s getting closer, every stroke pushing him toward the edge.

“W- wanna cum in your pussy, please,” Jungkook whines, his voice trembling with need.

You smirk, teasing him further. “Do you?”

He hums in response, the sound more like a moan, his desperation palpable.

“Okay,” you say, your voice soft but commanding. “Since you’ve been so good for me.”

You pull away from his cock, climbing on top of him, the hunger in his eyes unmistakable. Leaning down, you capture his lips with yours, and he responds eagerly, his hands sliding down the arch of your back, gripping your ass tightly, kneading it in his large palms.

Then, without warning, a sudden surge of dominance overtakes him. In one swift move, Jungkook flips you both over, hovering above you with a glint in his eye. He gives you a teasing peck on the lips, but before you can react, he flips you onto your stomach, effortlessly manhandling you as though you weigh nothing.

With your back turned to him, the sound of rustling heightens your anticipation. You can’t see what Jungkook is doing, but the moment you feel his grip on your arm, your heart races. The cold, familiar touch of metal against your wrist makes it clear — he's handcuffing you.

A soft gasp escapes your lips as he tightens the cuffs around your other wrist, pulling your arms behind your back. You’re completely at his mercy now, and the vulnerability only fuels the fire between your legs.

“Am I still a good boy?” he teases, his voice dripping with playful mischief.

“Bad boy,” you manage to reply, though the excitement surging through you betrays your words. The restriction, the control — it all makes your pussy throb with need.

The sound of the slap reverberates through the room, sending a sharp sting of pleasure coursing through your body. You jolt forward, moaning in response, your skin tingling from the impact. Jungkook grabs the chain of the handcuffs, pulling on it slightly, adding a thrilling sense of restraint to the moment. 

His other hand grabs his cock, and you feel the deliberate tease as he slaps it against your pussy, spreading your slickness over his length. It’s torturous — how long he’s making you wait. But finally, after what feels like an eternity, he slowly pushes himself inside you. 

You gasp, your walls stretching to accommodate him, while Jungkook releases a low, guttural groan, his breath catching at the sensation of being enveloped by your heat. He pauses for a moment, savoring the feeling, his fingers still gripping the handcuffs. The tension in the air is palpable, each movement sending shivers down your spine as he begins to move, his hips rocking into you with slow, deliberate thrusts.

Your breath comes out in heavy gasps, your face buried in the mattress as his pace quickens, his hips slamming into you with a steady rhythm. The sensation of being filled so completely has you whimpering, your body melting into the bed as you push back against him, craving more with every stroke. Each thrust is more intense than the last, the bed creaking beneath you as the slick sound of his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy echoes through the room.

Jungkook’s grip tightens on the handcuff chain, yanking you back harder onto his cock. “All your other prisoners fuck you this good?” he growls. 

A smirk curls your lips. He’s still milking this roleplay. He doesn’t voice it out, but he feels your pussy clench around him. You like this.

“Only you,” you moan, your voice breathy.

“That’s right,” he groans, his tone low and possessive.

Jungkook's pace quickens, the slap of his hips against your ass echoing through the room, his thrusts relentless. The headboard bangs rhythmically against the wall. He yanks the chain of the handcuffs harder, pulling your body back onto him in sync with every deep, punishing thrust.

Your body trembles beneath him, your moans now uncontrollable as the pressure builds to an almost unbearable height. Every drive of his cock inside you sends a jolt of pleasure through your body, his roughness pushing you to the brink. His deep groans mix with your cries, the heat between you reaching its peak, and you can feel yourself getting closer, your climax just within reach.

“You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he teases, his voice rough and low, dripping with lust. The heat in his tone sends another wave of pleasure coursing through you, and you can only nod, your voice caught in your throat as a moan escapes your lips, barely coherent.

His cock drags against your walls, hitting that perfect spot over and over, each thrust igniting a fire within you. Your body is a live wire, every nerve ending alight with sensation as the pressure coils tighter and tighter inside you, building towards a breaking point.

“Come on then, baby,” he growls, pulling you back hard against him, his grip firm and possessive. “Be a good officer and cum. I deserve it, don’t I?”

“Yes! Yes! You deserve it so much!” you manage to reply, the words spilling from your lips like a prayer.

“I’m such a good boy for you, huh?” he presses, his breath hot against your ear, his hips driving deeper.

“Such a good boy, my baby,” you affirm, your voice trembling with need. 

With a few more final, deep thrusts, your body shudders as the last waves of your sweet release ripple through you, your pussy clenching tightly around him. That tightness pushes Jungkook over the edge, and with a loud, needy moan, he releases into you, his hips faltering as he shoots his load deep inside. His groan fills the room as his cock throbs within you, emptying himself completely, the warmth of his cum spreading through you.

For a moment, the only sound is both of your heavy breathing, the heat of the moment still lingering in the air as your bodies stay connected.

Jungkook carefully unlocks the handcuffs, freeing your wrists from the restraints. He tosses them aside, his concern immediately turning to you as he notices the redness on your skin. Gently, he takes your wrists in his hands, massaging them softly, his brows furrowed with worry.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” he asks, his voice tender and full of concern.

“No, baby,” you reassure him, leaning in to kiss his lips softly, easing the tension he’s holding onto. You give him a few more sweet pecks, including one on his cheek, his boyish charm making you smile.

After cleaning up and peeing to avoid an infection, he helps you settle into bed, pulling you into his arms. His warmth envelops you, his face nestled against your neck, and you feel the soft brush of his breath against your skin. Your arms wrap around him instinctively, holding him close as the moment quiets. The heat from your bodies mingles with the gentle stillness of the room, creating a cocoon of intimacy and comfort that lulls you both toward sleep.

As your eyes grow heavy, his voice breaks the silence, low and a little playful. "I think I enjoyed that costume more than I thought," he murmurs against your neck.

© voyter 2024, all rights reserved.

[sunkissedbedard]

juno | jack hughes

❝𝒾, 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓂𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝑜𝒸𝓀 𝓂𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝓉𝑜𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝒸𝓊𝓉𝑒, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝓌𝑜, 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽? 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒, 𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓎, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓃𝒶 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒾𝓃 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒❞ 🤍🌷👼🏼✨

a/n: i have managed to scrounge together a little piece as confirmation that i am still alive, and i would say thriving, but school has consumed me. i love myself a good dad!jack fic so here we are! soo happy hockey is back in action though, more good things to come, i hope you enjoy! 🫶🏻💐

tags: soontobedad!jack hughes x pregnant!reader

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, fluffff

word count: 2.1k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You were so pregnant; and you didn't realize what other moms meant until you were two weeks out of your due date, and every function of your working body felt exhausting. Even sleeping had got to the point of being a discomfort. If it weren't for your queen-sized mattress, and a human-sized pillow that coddled your body at night, you wouldn't have been surprised if people had questioned your existence.

Despite the aching desire for the next two weeks of uncertainty to pass by within a breath, you loved being pregnant. It was the best thing to ever occur for Jack and you, other than your marriage and pre-existing life together. And when you found out you were expecting from a delayed period and peed on stick, the warmth that spread through your body was an unforgettable experience.

When Jack found out, through a card placed within a basket of Dad-related gag gifts, he had thought you were pulling a joke. It never once had crossed his mind the dream of starting a family would actually become a reality. But after a twenty-minute long reassurance conversation, Jack and you going back and forth between if you were being honest or not, the hug Jack engulfed you in was the tightest hug ever imagined.

You shared the special moment between the two of you, before sharing the news to extended family when safe. Then at the end of Jack's hockey season, you announced to the world the new family member you would be welcoming to the family, your little June Bug in reference to their due date.

Now, at the end of the NHL season, the winning team having been awarded the most difficult trophy to win in sports, award season rolled around within a blink of an eye. Jack was fortunate enough to be nominated for the King Clancy award for the past season, as well as his brother Quinn being nominated for his own awards for his past season success.

With that, the arrangements began taking place, you were in contact with Jack's management, organizing all of the needs for both his and your's appearance to the award show; entailing what suit and dress you would be wearing, how long your stay would be, and all the precautions regarding your pregnancy.

The morning of the award show, you were awoken to the intense strain of your bladder from your growing baby laying ever-so-slightly on just the right spot to cause a disturbance; waking you at a dawning 7:48 AM, when the alarm was set for 9:00 AM.

You scolded yourself as you leveraged yourself off of the mattress and in the direction of the attached bathroom of your hotel suite, hearing the fabric of the mattress rub against Jack's body as he stirred at your movement.

After using the bathroom, brushing your teeth and beginning to waken fully, you waddle back to your bed, rubbing the small of your back in an attempt to relieve some of the strain the weight of your stomach was causing to your body.

Once propped in bed with three pillows supporting your back as you sat upright, Jack's soft breaths caught your attention, causing you to look over at his peaceful state, envying his relaxation that you dreaded on feeling once again. He was on his stomach, arms beside his head as his legs were sprawled out along the length of the mattress, and as if he could feel your gaze while asleep, he began to stir, legs closing in and stretching to awaken.

His head lifted, his hair messily arranged from sleeping in one position all night.

"G'morning, baby." He groggily spoke, clearing his throat as he squinted his eyes. He rolled to his side, resting his head into the palm of his hands, contouring his muscles in a way that made you ogle him in a suggestive manner.

"Good morning, you." You smiled.

"Did our little Junebug wake you up?" He questioned through a wide smile, his eyes diverted to your large bulge of a stomach before pushing the duvet from your body to reveal your pregnancy and place a hand under your sleep shirt, rubbing his calloused hands against your skin.

Whether it was the baby kicking, or the butterflies of flattery from Jack's actions, you felt a sensation within your body, causing you to smile even harder than before.

"Oh, you know she woke me up, it's what she does best." You spoke softly, "Sit right on my bladder." You laughed, earning a grin from Jack.

He shuffled in the bed closer to your body, sliding his hand from the top of your bump, to your hip and slipping a finger under the waistband of your shorts. His face was now aligned with your bump, and you knew exactly what actions were to follow.

"Hello my little June Bug," Jack cooed, pausing as if he were waiting for a response, "Mommy and I have a special day today, we get to dress up real nice and fancy, and have our pictures taken; and maybe we'll even get to see your Daddy on stage when he wins his award." He smirked while shooting his gaze up to you who watched intently. He rubbed his thumb along your hip while he spoke, causing his touch to send signals of warmth through your entire body.

Your hand found Jack's luscious brown hair at the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers through the softness while you listened to his routinely morning conversation with your growing baby. What warms your heart the most, is each time the baby kicks, sending butterflies through your stomach and the sensation traveling to Jack's hands, his face always lit up in the same expression of being completely awestruck at the feeling.

Jack and you continued your time in bed for not much longer until you were needing to get up and start your day, quickly piecing together outfits that you had packed for the trip and heading down to the main foyer of the hotel lobby, setting yourselves on the way to grab brunch.

Hand in hand, you walked along the busy sidewalk of the hosting city, the occasional fan mentioning their sighting of Jack by calling for his attention or asking to take pictures with him. You loved seeing Jack interact with fans outside of games, especially kids, because it was as if it were a glimpse of what he would be like as a father. He'd ask the kids what their interests were, if they were excited for upcoming games and what they wanted to do when they grew up. Seeing his compassion and caring demeanor around the fans made you more than happy to pause your plans and help make a child's day.

After breakfast, Jack and you headed back to the hotel, being on a tight schedule of needing to be at the arena where the award show was being hosted, at a prime five o'clock. Smoothies in hand, you made it up to your designated room, and Jack quickly kissed your cheek before slipping into the bathroom to shower before the show. You opened the closet doors that were to your right, grabbing the two bagged outfits that you had fitted for this event. Considering you were pregnant at the time of the fitting, and knew you were still going to be by the time of the awards, you went with a soft, breathable and comfortable material, knowing beforehand that you would want to cause the least amount of discomfort to your swollen, aching, and still growing belly.

You plopped down onto the mattress in your hotel room, letting out an exhausted breath, as your pregnancy had reached the point of the simplest tasks becoming overwhelmingly tiring. You reached a hand to the small of your back again, similarly to when you woke up, becoming more aware of the excruciating ache from the weight of your belly.

Deciding to push it to the back of your mind to the best of your ability, you hung your dress and Jack's suit on the closet door for when you two were ready to change.

You knew Jack would air on the side of caution in regards to your pregnancy, and you could tell he was more nervous of your baby's arrival than you were, so if you were to mention the slightest inconvenience, you knew he would protest continuing your plans, and opting to stay home. You appreciated his efforts, but you knew you were stronger than you felt, and for Jack's sake of the award show, you would be able to manage a slight back ache.

Jack had finished in the shower, exiting the ensuite bathroom with a white towel wrapped low against his waist, your gaze following his figure in awe as he reached for his suitcase to grab a few toiletries.

If there was one thing about your pregnancy hormones; you felt like a predator waiting to pounce on its prey, every time Jack put himself in a suggestive situation.

Him lifting the heavy suitcases into the trunk of the rental car? Your skin felt feverish.

Backwards cap? You had to check your pulse.

When he gets impatient in situations and wants to make sure your needs are met? You have to be sure that it's not obvious that you're drooling over your husband in public.

"Like what you see, babe?" Jack called to you as he headed back to the bathroom. You chuckle at his remark, following his path and meeting him in the humid, steamy bathroom. He pulled you in by your hips and interlocked his hands behind the small of your back, looking down into your eyes with a smile.

Pressing a quick kiss to your lips, he shuffled behind your figure and stood behind you, both of your eyes falling onto the pair in the reflection of the mirror. You could feel Jack's warmth against the back of your body, emitting its heat, and his warm breath falling onto your neck as he hugged you tight. His hands on your swollen belly, he began slowly swaying back and forth with you in his arms.

"I love you," you said sheepishly through a smile, earning a bright grin in response from Jack. He peppered the side of your face with kisses, the slowly drying water droplets left on his face transferring to yours.

"I love you so much more," he said, "and I can't express enough how much it means for you to be here with me, all things considered in the timing of your pregnancy."

"You didn't have to ask me twice, you know I'd always come to support you." You smile again, turning from meeting his eyes through the mirror to face Jack, eyes connecting again as he looked down at you, now leaning your body against the counter.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Y/n." Jack said quieter, his hand reaching up to the side of your face and holding the back of your neck, he reached down to connect your lips, an inhale being breathed through his nose as you kissed.

It was slow and passionate, and when you reached your arms up to interlock behind his neck, Jack's lips left yours and found your neck, just below your ear.

"Jack," you protested, attempting to push his body off of yours. You knew you didn't have all the time in the world to spend getting ready before the awards, but you failed as Jack continued down your chest to the top of your square-lined top. You threw your head back in pleasure when he brought his lips back up to your neck on the other side, planting a wet, passionate kiss right along your sweet spot, causing a slight moan to slip out of your mouth.

And that's what caused Jack to stop with a smirk written all over his face.

"What was that?" He asked smugly.

"You know what it was, silly. We don't have time for this." You whined, knowing you wanted nothing more than to release the pent up desire between the two of you.

"We could make it work," Jack pressed, gripping your sides more tightly in desperation.

You shook your head, "we can't, babe, plus- I think you'd somehow manage to get me pregnant again with the way these pregnancy hormones have been hitting me lately." You confessed with raised eyebrows. shocked at your own statement and earning a loud laugh from Jack.

Boy, were these next few weeks going to be long. 

[capquinn]

Twenty-five | Q. Hughes

summary: celebrating the birthday boy pairing: reader x quinn hughes content: fluff word count: 1.5k ↪masterlist

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

It’s Quinn’s birthday, a milestone that feels both big and small at once. He’s twenty-five today, and while that number doesn’t carry the weight of a major life milestone, it still feels significant — halfway to thirty, a solid mark of adulthood. You’d planned a quiet evening to celebrate, something intimate and close to home. Quinn is quietly disappointed that his brothers couldn’t make it this year, both tied up with their own schedules, but having his parents here makes up for it. It’s just the four of you, gathered together in the cozy warmth of the apartment, and while it’s not the whole family, it still feels special — exactly the kind of celebration he needs.

You had spent the day preparing a homemade dinner, and you’d practically banished him from the kitchen, determined to make it a surprise. The kitchen had been your domain as you chopped vegetables, seasoned meat, and stirred sauces, with Quinn sneaking in every so often, leaning against the counter, stealing bites of food before you could swat his hand away. You had shooed him back into the living room more than once, reminding him that it was his birthday and he was supposed to relax. Not that he listened.

Now, as you all sit together around the small dining table in his apartment, the glow from a few candles casts a soft light across the room. There’s a warmth in the air, a kind of contentment that comes from being surrounded by people who know him well, who love him unconditionally.

Jim is laughing at something you said, Ellen chuckling beside him as she rests her hand on his. Quinn leans back in his chair, watching the interaction with a soft smile, a touch of shyness in his eyes as his parents begin sharing stories from his childhood. Tales that paint him in a more vulnerable light — like how he insisted on sleeping with a nightlight until he was almost ten. He’s trying to play it cool, but you can tell he’s both endeared and slightly embarrassed, glancing at you now and then to gauge your reaction.

“Remember when you were five?” Ellen asks, a playful glint in her eye as she focuses on Quinn. “You insisted on a hockey-themed birthday cake, but you hated the taste of the frosting.”

“Oh, come on, mom,” he groans, ducking his head with a laugh. 

You grin, leaning forward to catch his eye. “Wait, so you asked for a cake you didn’t even want to eat?”

“He just wanted to see the players on the cake,” Jim interjects, shaking his head. “But the second he had a taste, he decided the whole thing wasn’t for him. I think we ended up eating half of it ourselves.”

Ellen winks at you, then nods subtly toward the kitchen, signalling it’s time for the final surprise. You give her a quick smile, and together, you rise from the table, Quinn’s curious gaze following you as you disappear into the kitchen. 

The cake is waiting, just as you’d left it: chocolate with a glossy layer of frosting spread just a bit unevenly across the top. Strands of icing form the words "Happy Quarter of a Century, Quinn” in a looping script that you painstakingly wrote out, and the letters tilt a little at the end. The centrepiece is a dorky “25” candle, its red and white wax standing proudly amidst a scattering of chocolate shavings and sprinkles that you and Ellen had added for good measure. The whole thing looks as much a labour of love, with little imperfections here and there, but it’s endearing, perfectly imperfect — and so very him. 

As you approach the dining table, Ellen flicks off the lights, and together you break into song. Quinn glances up, caught mid-laugh at something his dad said, but his words fall away as he takes in the sight of the cake. His face lights up with surprise and a touch of embarrassment, and he ducks his head with a grin, trying to play it cool even as his cheeks flush in the warm candlelight. 

As you set the cake down in front of him, Quinn’s eyes flicker to the stringy icing and he chuckles, reaching out to wrap an arm around your waist, tugging you into his lap. You let out a surprised laugh, instinctively wrapping an arm around his shoulders as you settle in.

“Quarter of a century, huh?” he murmurs, leaning in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Makes me sound older than I am.”

You playfully roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. “Please, you’re barely mid-twenties. No sympathy from me.”

He grins, his hand resting comfortably on your waist as you both lean into each other. Then, you join in with Ellen and Jim’s singing, your voices mingle in a warm, off-key harmony.

For a second, Quinn is not quite sure what to do with himself. He's used to being in the spotlight, but this feels different — more intense, almost overwhelming. It’s not the roaring crowd at the rink or the flashing cameras; it’s the quiet attention of just a few people, the ones he loves most, their eyes on him with warmth and pride. He shifts a little in his seat, a shy smile playing on his lips as he leans his forehead against your shoulder, hiding his blushing cheeks out of view.

“Oh, come on, birthday boy, don’t hide,” you tease. You rest your hand on the back of his neck, fingers brushing through the soft hair there, silently telling him that he’s not alone in this. He laughs, his breath warm against your skin, and you can feel the rumble of it in his chest. 

He shifts, glancing up at you with a sheepish grin, his cheeks pink in the candlelight, but the look in his eyes is full of affection. “You didn’t have to go all out,” he murmurs, though the smile he’s trying to suppress gives him away. His hand is firm at your waist, holding you close, and you can feel the steadiness of his heartbeat as you both sway a little to the rhythm of the song.

“Yes, I did,” you reply softly, your eyes meeting his, and the warmth in your voice makes his smile grow wider. It’s sweet and quiet between you, the room filled with the gentle hum of the birthday song, but all you can focus on is the way he’s looking at you.

Ellen’s voice is quiet as she finishes the final note. She claps, and then softly says, “make a wish, sweetheart.”

She steps back, giving you both a knowing smile as she takes her seat beside Jim, the two of them watching with that quiet joy only parents seem to have.

“Alright, alright,” he says, straightening up, and you can feel his fingers tighten on your hip as he closes his eyes, pretending to be lost in thought. You can’t help but laugh, and he nudges you with his shoulder, both of you sharing a private smile as he finally leans forward to blow out the candle.

The flame flickers once, then vanishes, leaving only the faint tendrils of smoke curling up from the “25” candle. 

Quinn turns his face to yours, and in the dim light, you can see the soft flush of pink deepening on his cheeks, the happiness in his eyes as he pulls you in a little closer. You’re both still giggling, the joy of the moment filling the space between you.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his lips pressing gently against your cheek, lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary. It’s a gentle touch, barely there, but the warmth of it spreads through you, making your heart swell. You can feel the soft flutter of his breath against your skin, and for a second, everything else fades away.

You loop your arms around his neck, pulling him in a little closer, your cheek resting against the side of his head. It's fleeting but the moment stretches on between you, lingering in the soft space between breaths. His arms around you, your fingers twisting through the ends of his hair — it feels as if you have all the time in the world, wrapped up in each other, letting the rest of the world spin on without you.

From across the table, Jim clears his throat with a teasing grin. “Alright, lovebirds, are we ever getting to that cake, or is it just for show?”

Jim's words break the spell, his teasing grin making you laugh as you glance up. Ellen gives him a nudge, but she’s smiling too, clearly enjoying the moment just as much.

Quinn gives a little chuckle, shaking his head as he glances at his parents with that familiar mix of affection and playful exasperation.

Reluctantly, you pull back, reaching for the knife, and as you do, Quinn’s hand slides up your back to lay at rest between your shoulders. You cut into the cake, the knife slicing through layers of rich chocolate, and as you pass the first piece to Jim, Quinn leans in close again, resting his chin on your shoulder with a contented sigh.

In that moment, surrounded by his parents’ laughter, with Quinn’s arm wrapped around you, it feels as if time itself has paused. You share a quick glance, and the unspoken connection between you is a quiet certainty. Of knowing that these are the moments you’ll cherish — today, tomorrow, and for every birthday still to come.

[g-hughes]

[ NUZZLE ] sender presses their face into receiver’s neck

quinn hughes bringing his girlfriend home to meet his family and he has never brought home a girl before so his family knows she must be very very special and he is always talking about her! it’s very sweet and soft and she just fits in the family so well and makes quinn so happy

A Keeper - Q. Hughes

hockey masterlist || g's graduation celly

synopsis: Quinn finds himself at the lake in the off season, and this time, he isn't flying solo

word count: 3.6k

warnings: none! losing game seven

For as long as Quinn could remember, his whole life revolved around hockey. He’d wake up, eat a quick breakfast, go to hockey practice, shower, eat lunch, sit and watch film, come home and take a nap, then go back for another practice or a game. Everything he has ever known has been hockey. Hockey took up every moment of his life, every single thought. 

But since that buzzer went off signaling the end of the final period of game seven, Quinn couldn’t think of hockey anymore. 

He wasn’t the type of guy to cry, well, not in public at least. But standing on the ice at that moment, staring up at the scoreboard and seeing the final score, he felt that all too familiar burn behind his eyes and in his nose. He glanced around at his teammates, all of them wearing the same shocked and sad expression on their faces. He didn’t dare look over at Arty, knowing that the young goalie was going to be feeling this loss harder than anyone on the team, even though they all played in the game.

You stood off to the side as Quinn answered a couple of questions for the press. Your heart was also feeling heavy and you had that same all too familiar feeling of unshed tears in your eyes. You were so incredibly proud of your boyfriend and his team. The way they were able to turn everything around from the previous season and give Vancouver a play-off berth in over a decade was something to celebrate about. And, even with that knowledge, all you wanted to do was pull Quinn away from the press and give him a hug and a thousand kisses. You could tell just by looking at him he was physically and mentally exhausted. But Quinn wasn’t going to be rude and brush off the media, he was the captain. He would gladly stand and answer the dumb “how are you feeling after the loss?” question so his guys can go home and rest.

When Quinn was done, he silently walked over to you, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers together. He silently led you towards the parking garage, wanting nothing more than to speed out of Rogers Arena and back home to your shared apartment. It was as if the fans knew that he wasn’t in the mood to stop and sign autographs like he usually did, instead they all seemed to give him space as he left the rink. 

The two of you seemed to move in silence as you walked into your apartment. You took Quinn’s bag from his hand, as he walked towards the bedroom. You were putting his clothes into the washer when you heard the shower turn on. You laid out a pair of sweatpants for him to put on when he was done, and went to start making him some tea. By the time he was done showering, you were sitting up against the headboard, scrolling briefly through social media, with a mug of camomile tea in your other hand. He quietly crawled into bed, and you shifted so he could lay down next to you. You held your arms open as he laid his head down on your chest. 

“I’m proud of you,” You said, running your hands through his hair. 

“Even though I lost,” He muttered. 

“You might’ve lost this one,” You pressed a kiss to his forehead, “But you’ve won so much more.” 

He looked up at you, tired green eyes locking on yours, “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Q.”

— — — 

You were a ball of nerves. 

You had never been the type to get nervous. Usually, you were so sure and confident in yourself, but there was something about flying across the continent to meet your boyfriend's family that had your stomach in knots. Quinn had assured you that there was nothing to worry about, that they already loved you. 

Ever since you landed back in Michigan, it was like the weight of the world had been lifted off of Quinn’s shoulders. You guys stuck around for a couple of days after the loss, Quinn having to do exit interviews and pack up his things. Quinn only packed one bag to go back to the lake (oh, and his precious golf clubs), while you seemed to pack your whole closet. Quinn couldn’t help but laugh at you as you were quickly shifting clothes from your suitcase to his in the middle of the airport because your bag was over the weight limit. 

“I should’ve told you that we could go shopping when we get here,” He said, one hand on the wheel and the other one intertwined with yours, “Get you a whole new closet to keep here for when we come back next summer.” 

“Okay mister ‘i make eight point six million a year’,” You playfully rolled your eyes, “And who says I’ll be invited back next year?” Quinn gave you a look, “What?!”

“You’ll be invited back next year,” He chuckled, “There’s only ever been one person I didn’t want to invite back.” 

“Hey, that’s not nice. Trevor is a nice kid,” Quinn shook his head with a laugh, “But I’m serious. What if your family doesn’t like me and doesn’t want me-” 

“They are going to love you, Y/N,” Quinn pulled your hand to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it, “They have been begging me to fly back so that they can meet you. My mom has been sending me texts and asking me about your favorite foods and hobbies and card games.” 

You couldn’t help but blush and look down at your lap. You haven’t met Quinn’s family before, but from what he described, you can tell that they are very close. Quinn talks to his middle brother, Jack almost every day on the phone, and either texts Luke or calls him a couple times a week. He values his time with his family almost as much as he values his time on the ice with his teammates. 

“And here we are,” Quinn announced as he pulled into the driveway of a beautiful two-story lake house. Excitement and anxiety filled your body, making your stomach turn. Your hands felt sweaty as Quinn jumped out of the driver’s seat and the front door opened at the same time. A boy with longish brown hair and a similar face to Quinn came rushing out of the house, barefoot and shirtless. 

You watched as the two men embraced each other in a hug, another boy walking out of the house. He was slightly taller with curly hair, but had those same dark eyebags as Quinn. You slipped out of the car, walking up to the three boys who were engaged in a conversation. It was like Quinn had a sixth sense for you being near him, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into his side, easing some of your nerves. 

“And who might this be?” The long haired boy asked, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“This would be my girl,” Quinn looked at you, “Y/N,” Heat arose in your cheeks as he looked at you like you hung the stars and the moon. 

“Well I’m Jack,” The long haired boy said, holding his hand out to you. You chuckled nervously, shaking his hand, “And it's a pleasure to meet the girl that has my older brother drooling.” 

“I am not drooling,” Quinn shot back. 

“Basically are, Q,” The taller boy said, “I’m Luke.” 

You shook his hand too, “It’s nice to meet you guys, finally. Quinn has told me so much about you. It’s good to see your healing well, Jack.” 

“Thanks,” Jack nodded, “Been a long season but I’m glad I got this taken care of,” He massaged his shoulder, and you could see a slightly still puffy, pink scar, “But don’t think I can’t beat your ass at pool, Q.” 

“I’d like to see you try, Rowdy.” 

“Boys!” A woman called from the doorway. You looked around Luke to see a beautiful blonde woman standing there, her hands on her hips, “Let your brother and his girlfriend get settled before you start your pool tournament!” 

“Yes mom,” Both Jack and Luke said. Quinn chuckled as he pulled you towards the front door, letting Jack and Luke bicker about who was going to carry your bags in. 

You squeezed Quinn’s hand as you walked up to the matriarch of the Hughes family. You had read up on Ellen Hughes when you had met Quinn. She was an incredible woman, being a former hockey star herself and raising three incredible players. You felt another wave of anxiety rush over you as she looked you over, her eyes similar to Quinn taking you in. It felt like you were standing in front of a judge; a judge who was going to decide if you are worthy enough for her eldest son. 

“Hey mom,” Quinn greeted her, leaving your side to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Good to see ya.” 

“You too, baby,” Ellen said, and held her son at an arm’s length. She tsked, grabbing his chin and running a finger over the scar on his cheek, “That should’ve been a damn high stick.” 

Quinn chuckled, “Not much we can do about it now. Besides, it adds to my cool factor.” 

“Mhm,” Ellen nodded, and playfully rolled her eyes, looking back towards you. 

You mouth felt dry and you stepped forward, holding your hand out to Ellen, “I’m Y/N, it’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Hughes.” 

It was silent for a moment, probably not as long as you felt like it was, but it was long enough, before Ellen pulled you in for a hug. 

“Handshakes are for business partners and old men,” Ellen told you as she gave you a squeeze. And just like that, all the tension you felt had melted away. Ellen pulled back and held you at arms length, the same way she did with Quinn, “My son seemed to be hiding you away,” She looked at Quinn, “Why were you hiding her away? You talk about her all the time.” 

Quinn chuckled, grabbing you gently out of his mother’s hold, “Because I wanted to keep her for myself for just a bit longer. I know once I bring her home, I’ll be fighting for her attention.” 

“Well, start fighting now,” Ellen said and you chuckled, “C’mon, I just finished making some sangria. The boys can take your stuff to your room.” 

For several hours, you sat in the kitchen with Ellen, getting to know her. It started off with just small talk; asking where you are from, what are your parents' names, what do they do, what do you do for work, how did you meet Quinn. Then the conversation transitioned into how to make the perfect cheesecake, something Ellen was famous for in their neighborhood back in Michigan. Before you knew it, you and Ellen were making dinner side by side, while the boys sat out on the back patio with their dad, Jim, watching the grill. 

“The boys used to volun-tell me to make raspberry cheesecake for every single end of season potluck,” Ellen shook her head with a laugh, “Oh I wanted to strangle them sometimes, cause of course, they never told more than a day or two in advance.” 

“Oh of course not,” You giggled, “Quinn signed me up to bake cookies for one of the Canucks charity events. Told me at eight o'clock the night before that he needed me to make three dozen chocolate chip cookies.” 

“Boys,” Ellen playfully rolled her eyes. 

“What about boys?” Quinn asked as he walked into the kitchen. 

“Oh nothing,” Ellen said, wiping her hands on the towel thrown over her shoulder, “Y/N makes a better sous chef than you.” 

“Taking my job?” Quinn looked at you. You nodded your head, “Traitor. This is my off-season gig,” He reached over to grab a cube of watermelon, but you swatted his hand back, “Hey!” 

“This is for dinner,” You scolded him. Quinn walked around to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Quinn, your begging isn’t going to make me cave.” 

“Please,” Quinn whined, “I lost game seven.” 

“Two weeks ago!” 

“I’m still wounded!” 

“Fine,” You muttered, grabbing a cube of watermelon and turning in his arms to face him, “Because you lost game seven. . . two weeks ago,” You fed it to him and he smiled. 

“Thanks baby,” He kissed your cheek before heading back out to the grill. 

You shook your head, going back to placing balls of cookie dough on the baking sheet. It was quiet and you could feel Ellen’s stare on you as you worked, causing you to overthink every little movement you made. You paused, looking at the cookies before looking up at Ellen. 

“Did I mess something up?” You asked, fear rising in your body. 

“Hm? Oh, no,” Ellen shook her head, “It’s just. . . he never used to joke about the games he lost. In fact, it was almost like a taboo subject to bring up any losses around him. It’s. . . refreshing to see him like that.” 

You blushed and nodded, going back to work, a small smile on your face. 

Dinner went off without a hitch. Jim had grilled enough hamburgers, chicken and steak to feed a whole hockey team instead of just the six of you. You fell into comfortable silence as you watched the Hughes family interact with each other. It was like no time had passed by them at all, as if they weren’t spread across North America and in different time zones. You felt comfortable and at ease with them. And Quinn could sense that as he looked at you. 

“Feeling okay?” He asked, nodding towards your barely touched plate. 

“Yeah, I feel fine,” You smiled, picking up your fork, “Just. . . taking it all in,” You sighed. Quinn smiled and placed his hand on your thigh. 

Ellen and Jim shared a knowing look across the table, watching you and their son interact. They were both taken aback when Quinn first mentioned a girl in his life. Quinn was always so focused on hockey that personal relationships (unless they were centered around hockey) came second to him. It wasn’t that Ellen feared that her son was going to be alone forever, she just knew the kind of man he was. She knew that hockey wasn’t going to be around forever, that there would come a time where Quinn would retire from the game, and she wanted him to have someone who would be there for when that time came. She wanted him to have someone for when he came home from those long roadies or hard fought games. She wanted him to have the kind of partner and relationship that she has with Jim. 

When dinner was over, you and Quinn packed up the boat, putting a small cooler of seltzers and water, a couple of blankets and towels. Quinn gave you one of his sweatshirts to wear, knowing that it would get cold once the sun went all the way down. You sat next to Ellen as the boys and Jim, pushed away from the dock, ready to set out on a slow sunset cruise around the lake. Quinn took up the captain spot, while Jack and Jim navigated, Luke opted to sit next to you and his mom. 

“So, who is the best driver?” You asked, looking at the three Hughes boys. 

“Oh for sure me,” Jack scoffed. 

“You only have one functioning arm,” Luke pointed. 

“It wasn’t chopped off,” Jack rolled his eyes, “I can still use my hands.” 

“Whatever you say, Bucky Barnes.” 

You giggled and looked at Ellen, “They always like this?” 

“Got worse with age,” Ellen sighed, “I was a little worried when they all went into the NHL. I have known some families that the competition gets the better of them, and they don’t talk anymore. But not these three. I think if anything, they talk more now than they ever had.” 

You smiled, “Quinn talks about them all the time. He has me record their games so he can watch them back after his.” 

Ellen’s heart swelled at your words, “He told them about you first,” You blushed, “Jack can’t keep a secret to save his life, and he texted me asking if I knew that Quinn had a girlfriend and I said no, and then Jack launched into this whole story that Quinn told them about you,” Ellen chuckled, “When Quinn told us about you, I told him I already knew.” 

“What did he say then?” You asked. 

“He said ‘of course Jack told you’,” You laughed and Ellen smiled, “It meant a lot to Jack that you sent him flowers after his surgery, and Luke when you sent some after his Calder nomination. They won’t admit that, but I know it.” 

“They mean a lot to him,” You gestured towards your boyfriend and his brothers who were sitting at the front of the boat, “So they mean a lot to me too.” 

Quinn glanced at you from where he sat, a smile on his face as you talked to his parents. His parents were two of the most important people in his life. He valued their opinion on almost everything, so it meant something to see you so easily getting along with them. His heart felt warm when he heard your laughter at a, no doubt, embarrassing story his dad was telling. 

“So when are you going to propose?” Jack said, pulling Quinn out of his trance. 

“What?” 

“You got a ring yet? I bet you got a ring already.” 

“Huh?” 

“You’re going to marry her!” Jack exclaimed, “And don’t even lie, I can see it. I have a sixth sense for these things.” 

“Yeah, and I talk to ghosts,” Quinn rolled his eyes. But his younger brother was right. Even though you and him had only been dating for six months, Quinn had already imagined proposing to you, getting married, buying a house, and hopefully, having a family. Quinn had never felt this way about someone before, and he would be lying if he wasn’t a bit scared of his feelings, but one look at you and all those fears melted away. 

“Whatever man,” Jack waved him off, “As long as I get to be the best man, I won’t complain.” 

“And who says you will be the best man?” Luke asked, “If anything, I think it would be me. I never broke his xbox controller.” 

“Luke, you’re literally like seven,” Jack scoffed, “It won’t be you.” 

“I’m twenty.” 

The sun was completely down by the time you guys had made it back to the dock. Quinn expertly parked the boat in the hoist, and helped you out, before raising it back up. Jack and Luke had run back to the house, shouting something about getting a fire started, Ellen and Jim walking hand in hand behind them. You stood on the dock, taking in the dark lake in the final strands of light from the sky. 

“No wonder you guys run away to this place at the end of the season,” You said, “It’s so peaceful here. I love it and I’ve only been here a couple of hours.” 

Quinn chuckled, “It feels like this is the one place on earth where I can be just Quinn Hughes. Not the hockey player or the captain of the Canucks. Just Quinn.” 

You turned around, draping your arms around his neck, “Well I like it, Just Quinn,” He smiled at you, his hands resting on your hips, “Thank you for bringing me here. For letting me into your life.” 

“Of course,” Quinn’s voice was full of sincerity as his thumbs brushed over your hip bones, “Thank you for being in my life. You’ve made me a better person.” You tilted your head up slightly, placing a kiss on his lips. One of his hands cupped your cheek, while the other one tangled in your hair, deepening the kiss. When you pulled apart for air, you rested your forehead against his, wanting to just stand in his embrace for a moment longer. 

“Hey lovebirds!” You broke apart, like two teenagers being caught by your parents. But instead of your parents, it was Jack, “Quit sucking face! We’re making smores!” 

“He is such a child,” Quinn huffed. You laughed, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the house. 

“Yes but you love him.” 

“Unfortunately, I do.” 

You sat on Quinn’s lap, your legs dangling off the side of the chair, by the fire, as Jack and Luke argued about how toasted a marshmallow should be for the perfect smore. Ellen and Jim sat across the firepit from you and Quinn, enjoying having their kids back home. Your eyes were growing heavier by the minute, the heat from the fire, being in Quinn’s embrace and the exhaustion from traveling finally catching up to you. Quinn could feel your body growing heavier and heavier with sleep, his hand running up and down your back, a soothing motion that he knew would lull you to sleep. 

“Tired?” He asked, looking at you. 

“A bit,” You yawned, “But I don’t want to go to bed yet, having too much fun.” 

“Just close your eyes,” Quinn whispered. You nodded, nuzzling your face into his neck. He leaned his cheek on top of your head. It wasn’t very long after that, that Quinn could feel your breathing start to slow, until you were sleeping in his arms. He looked down at you, a soft smile on his face, as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“She’s a keeper Quinn,” Jim said, raising his can of beer towards his son, “She’s gotta be a special one to deal with you.” 

“Yeah,” Quinn said, his eyes still on your sleeping frame, “I’m not letting her go anytime soon.”

note: I am thinking of creating a tag list. Is that something y'all would want? also, requests are open!!

[lieutenantfloyd]

Top Gun: Maverick Fic Recs

Hey y'all! Here are 21 of my favorite TGM fanfics of all genres and ships, listed in no particular order.

Some of these fics are 18+ so read at your own risk. None of these works are mine and all credit goes to the amazing authors! <3

X READER

Safe Zone by @sunlightmurdock — (Series // Rooster and Hangman x reader)

A team of elite naval aviators holding down the fort at the North Island Air Base while they wait for reinforcements after a virus sweeps the continental U.S. - only, it’s been three months and no one has shown up.

Hold My Hand by @labyrinth-runner — (Series // Cyclone x Reader)

Jag! Reader is assigned to defend a pilot, finding the job to be more complicated than she thought.

Rooster’s Flight or a Manual for the Marooned by DontLetThemTakeYouAlive (Series // Rooster x Reader/OC)

"Rooster's Flight: A Manual for the Marooned" follows Madeline, a pastry chef escaping scandal in Amsterdam, and Bradley, a lost naval aviator stationed in Japan. Fate brings them to sunny San Diego, where their friendship blossoms amid career challenges and a clashing of characters. Madeline's culinary journey intertwines with Bradley's self-discovery, navigating love and loss.

Resilience, self-discovery, and the unpredictable paths of career and matters of the heart shape their narrative in this tale of second chances and unlikely connections.

Fine Piece by @dragon-kazansky (Series // Cyclone x Reader)

You have it bad for Vice Admiral Simpson. But to prove you’re fit for the job; you need to put that aside and focus on the flying.

Someone Special by @fanboygarcia (Oneshot // Cyclone x Reader)

What happens when the Dagger Squad catches on to the fact that known grump turned lovesick fool Admiral Simpson has someone special in his life?

Invisible String by @halfway-happyyy (Oneshot // Rooster x Reader)

the one where rooster’s about to leave on a mission he doesn’t know if he’ll be back from, and he wants you in every way imaginable. as always, soft feelings ensue! 

Do you wanna make somethin’ of it by @theharddeck (Oneshot // Rooster x Reader)

turns out, our favorite WSO has a side hustle, as quinn's favorite cowboy.

@bullet-prooflove's entire TGM masterlist

Everything she writes is outstanding, but the Beau x Ally fics (The First Time Series, The General Series, Deployment!Series, and Syria!Series) are something I think about literally everyday.

i don’t know, blame the air force? by @gretagerwigsmuse (Oneshot // Rooster x Reader)

in which lieutenant commander bradshaw feels his girlfriend’s wrath after she gets her year end bonus and uncle sam takes a pretty penny out of it

There Are Rules by @tongue-like-a-razor (Series // Maverick x Reader)

Your risky flying seriously pisses off your instructor at Top Gun and you're about to find out why.

Through the Hourglass by @bratshaws (Series // Rooster x OC)

Rooster x Plus Size OC!

Happy Birthday, Mr. President by @rhettabbotts (Oneshot // Bob x Reader)

after a hard week, the last thing bob wanted to do was attend his birthday party. so instead, he plays out one of his biggest fantasies with you.

Whoever's in Lemoore by @cherrycola27 (Oneshot // Bob x Reader)

A fic based on the Reba McEntire song "Whoever's in New England"

Angels Don't Always Have Wings by @bradshawssugarbaby (Series // Rooster x Reader)

a series of oneshots revolving around baseball player!Bradley Bradshaw x reader (nicknamed Angel)

Do I? by @bradshawssugarbaby (Oneshot // Cyclone x Reader)

Inspired by Do I? by Luke Bryan. (this fic was so good I had to go take a walk after reading it for the first time)

Road to Perdition by @sailor-aviator (Series // Hangman x Reader)

The Great Depression wasn't called a depression for nothing. Jobs were scarce, and the price of food and other necessities were rising higher and higher with each passing day. What little money you were able to make went straight to the bank and out of reach from your booze-swilling lech of a brother. It's on one such run that you come face to face with members of the infamous Dagger Gang; a group of, admittedly handsome, men who steal from the banks to hand it back out to the poor. You want nothing to do with them, but that blond-headed devil might just have something to say to the contrary. (1930s!Mobster!AU)

His Best Friend's Wedding by @ereardon (Series // Rooster x Reader)

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw has been your best friend for a decade. He’s also your fiancé’s best man. So when he shows up at your hotel room the night before your wedding, it’s just because he’s your friend, right? 

OTHER SHIPS

Mistaken Identity by @ladylanera — (TGM x Mission: Impossible crossover)

What should be a joyous homecoming quickly unravels after it's discovered a nefarious, unknown group has put a hit out on Captain Mitchell, mistaking the Navy captain for being a covert IMF operative by the name of Ethan Hunt who has an uncanny likeness to the captain for some reason. Enter a twisty web of lies that threaten the very existence of the family as we know it.

**Fic contains spoilers for Mission: Impossible Dead Reckoning Part One**

Flower Power by ReformedTsundere — (Icemav)

Flowers, Pete reminds himself, slamming the last of the books closed, are the worst.

New Chat Created: North Island Daggers by Comin2U — (gen fic)

Harvard: why Whatsapp and not just a basic text message? Hangman: because one of us has an android and ruins the ability to message with just internet. Coyote: Screw you too hangman. ________________________________ In which 12 daggers, the best of the best of naval aviators, are all a bunch of kids and thrown in a group chat.

come fly with me (let's fly, let's fly away) by GatheringBlue — (TGM x 9-1-1 Crossover)

It's a common misconception that Buck trained to be a Navy SEAL. For as long as he could remember, flying had been his dream. Most little kids wanted to be a firefighter or an astronaut, but Buck had always wanted to be a pilot. He wanted to fly far, far away from home, where his parents’ comments that might as well have been slaps for how badly they stung couldn’t get to him. Flying was his way out. His escape. If he was thousands of feet up in the sky, way up with the clouds, then his parents couldn’t touch him. No one could. When Buck got pulled from the reserves just after the lawsuit, it seemed like perfect timing. There was nothing left for him in LA. Not anymore. So, it looked like Buck was heading back to Top Gun.

[tkwrites]

Thank you so much, Aubrée! I'm so glad you enjoyed it!

I can't belive you're here. - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Photo from Pinterest

Title: I can't believe you're here.

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts

Warnings: Unprotected sex - p in v (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!), Captain kink unlocked, oral & fingering (f receiving), squirting, swearing, surprise visit, if I missed anything, please let me know.

Summary: After a very long time apart due to bad timing, Sarah surprises Quinn on the road. Wearing his jersey, she fulfills one of his long harbored fantasies. The night just gets better when he sees what she has on underneath. 

Word Count: 6,000

Comments: To the lovely anon who requested this: I hope it lives up to your expectations. I had so much fun writing it.

Hoo boy. This is by far the most depraved thing I’ve written. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

If you did enjoy it, please let me know! Your comments and questions inspire me to keep writing!

Anonymous asked: 'In some ways, he’d love to see his name across her back, but not at a game.' Ohhh, I'd love to see something about this in the future. Later on in their relationship, he's on a roadie and not seen Sarah for 4 weeks due to it and some study trip prior. He has just played either Brady or his brothers who noticed he's really down and missing her, they call Sarah and organise to fly her to his next destination to suprise him after the game. She's waiting in his hotel room, wearing nothing but his jersey to cheer him up after a loss 😉 Or a more wholesome storyline of her first WAG jacket or something aha Absolutely love all your pieces and can't wait to continue reading of their universe xx

I can't believe you're here.

Fatigue and failure were deep in his bones as he walked into the hotel. 

Logically, Quinn knew winning streaks always come to an end. It was impossible to have a perfect 82 game season. No one had ever come close to that. 

It didn't matter how much he tried to reason, it still felt like shit to be on the receiving end of a shut out after two straight losses. 

The fact that they were still on the road didn’t help. The fourteen day trek away from home was always terrible, no matter when it fell in the season, but having it come right after Sarah had to be at a conference was torture. It meant he hadn’t seen her in over 12 days. 

It was terrible timing. The day after he got back from the six day Midwest road trip, she left for a seven day ocean conservation conference in Costa Rica. She got back two days after he had to leave again. 

It had been nineteen long days since he'd seen her for more than twenty four hours. 

They talked and sent messages and photos, but it wasn’t the same as talking face to face and kissing her and feeling her skin and smelling her perfume. 

He’d learned from the past and brought her pillowcase with him, but even that was beginning to smell less and less like her.

He only had to get through three more games and five and a half more days before he'd be back home and in her arms. 

One of the team assistants ran up to him in the lobby, “Hughes,” he said, a little breathless, “they changed your room.” 

“What?” he asked, trying to pull himself from his misery and back to the present.

“They had to change your room. Something about the heater being broken,” Sean said. 

“Okay. Petey still with me?” 

“No, they had to separate you,” Sean forced the key into his hand as they stepped on the elevator, “I already moved your bags.” 

He’d slept four quick hours in a room that felt perfectly fine before heading to the pre-game meeting and meal. He couldn’t remember if he’d left his stuff all over the bathroom counter. Hopefully, Sean didn’t have to go through too much trouble. Quinn definitely owed him dinner. 

The room was dark when he walked in. And it smelled like… it smelled like Sarah’s smoky vanilla perfume. 

Fuck. He missed her so much, his mind was playing tricks on him. 

At least he would have a room to himself, and could call her in peace without the threat of Petey listening in. They could probably even get some phone sex in, which hadn’t happened for far too long. 

Then, he would get a full night's sleep before their flight to Chicago. Tha,t in itself, was a rare luxury he was outrageously thankful for. 

When he flipped on the light, the first thing he noticed was the king size bed. The bedspread was mussed, as if someone had been lying on it. Strange for any hotel, but especially one this nice. Rooms he came into often looked so pristine, it was as if no one had ever stepped foot in them before. 

He pushed the worry out of his mind and started toward the bathroom. 

“Hey.” 

Great, now he was hallucinating. It sounded like Sarah was right behind him. He must be more tired than he thought. 

“Quinn?” 

He stopped dead in his tracks, backpack nearly slipping to the floor. If he turned and she wasn’t here, he didn’t know what he’d do. 

A touch grazed his shoulder, and a strong whiff of her perfume made his knees shake. “Sarah?” he asked, hoping against hope. Why would she be here? 

“Yeah,” she said. 

He turned and felt a strange, strangled sort of gasp escape his throat. 

Sarah was in his hotel room. She was here. She was in Boston. How was she here? 

When his brain finally reconciled the fact that she was actually in front of him, he noticed she was wearing his flying skate jersey. 

“I - how?” 

She smiled softly, set his backpack aside and wrapped her arms around him.  

His body caught on before his brain did, hugging her against him fiercely.

Coming home from her conference in Costa Rica, which had been lovely but incredibly socially exhausting, all Sarah had wanted was to fall into bed with Quinn. When she came home to a dark and empty house, it had been a rude reminder he was on the longest road trip of the year. The apartment felt too big without him in it, especially for so long. 

“I missed you so much,” she said into his neck. 

“How did you do this?” he finally asked.

He’d known other players' wives and girlfriends occasionally showed up on road trips, but generally, their partners always knew, and it was usually because they were close by one of their hometowns. 

“Brady called me. He said you were so sad and not yourself on Wednesday, he wanted to do something. So he bought me a ticket and called Brock to get the schedule.” 

He sniffed and she pulled back.

“Oh, Quinn,” she said upon seeing the tears pooled in his eyes.

“I’m just…” The shock of seeing her brought all his emotion up to the surface.

“I know,” she said, pulling him into her again, feeling a few tears slip down her own cheeks. It felt so good to hold him.  

His mouth landed on her neck. It was a comforting thing to taste her skin as they embraced. He mumbled something against her. 

“Sorry?” she asked, trying to pull away so she could see his face. 

He didn’t want to let her go, not even for a second. Instead, he lifted his lips just enough so he could repeat, “I missed you so much.” 

“I know Quinny,” she said, running her fingers into his hair. “I missed you, too, but I’m here now, and we have all night.” 

His mouth was still on her neck, though he’d started moving with more intent, licking and kissing. The shock to his system was giving way to relief and desire. 

Finally fed up with his teasing, Sarah took his jaw in her hands and forced his head up so she could kiss him. 

He sighed into it, and found some way to pull her tighter against him. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew she was wearing his jersey, but the shock of her in his hotel room, seeing her face and her blue eyes and her lips - god her lips, he couldn't get enough of them - stole all of his brain power. Now, as his hands splayed across her back, feeling the numbers patched and stitched there, the reality of it hit him. 

Forcing himself to break away so he could look at her, his knees threatened to buckle when he noticed she wasn’t wearing anything else - not that he could see anyway. The fabric hit her upper thigh, leaving much of her legs bare.

“I -” he tried to say something, but lost the words. 

The idea of wearing his jersey came from Emma. Sarah thought it was cheesy, but Emma assured her he’d love it. She’d surprised Brady at the end of a roadtrip like that, and “I swear his brain, like, short-circuited or something. He just stood there, staring at me for like 30 seconds before he went wild.” 

It didn’t surprise her Quinn didn’t have the same immediate reaction. He was so much quieter than Brady, and from what she could tell, they had a much more subdued relationship than the Tkachuks. 

The way he was looking at her now, though - like she was the thing he'd been anxiously waiting for on Christmas morning - made it all worthwhile.  

“I borrowed it, I hope that’s okay.” 

“Yeah,” he breathed. 

When they were apart, the mechanics of an orgasm could be there, but it just wasn't as good. It could never be. She missed feeling him: his skin, his breath, the rigid length of him inside her.

It wasn’t that she’d been hoping he’d ravish her right away (okay, maybe she had been, but she knew Quinn, and knew he would never react that way), but all this looking without any touching was getting out of hand. Impatience was pulling tight through her stomach. The prospect of finally feeling fulfilled was driving her crazy.

She needed to give him a little nudge. 

Leaning in, she let her lips graze his ear, down to his jaw and then back. He made a soft, breathy noise, and she knew she almost had him.

Just one more push. 

“How do you want me?” she asked, following it up with a slow, open mouthed kiss to the soft spot under his ear. 

Blood rushed from his head so fast he felt dizzy. 

“I want you to ride me in this,” he managed to say, fingering the stripes on the sleeve. 

It was a fantasy he'd harbored since middle school, but had yet to experience. He'd asked his college girlfriend once, and she had scoffed, telling him it would get too hot, which he thought was a strange argument considering a jersey was designed to do the exact opposite. 

Sarah didn’t acknowledge his request other than popping open the buttons of his shirt, one after the other. That set him into motion, tugging at his clothing. He couldn’t get it off fast enough. 

Through a jumble of arms and hands, tangling in their effort to get him naked, they found themselves on the bed. Quinn flat on his back, breath heavy with anticipation, and Sarah astride him, trying to game plan her next move. She had on lingerie he’d never seen before and didn’t want it to go to waste, but he wanted her in the jersey, and she couldn’t take anything off without spoiling the surprise. 

He grew impatient as she debated, shifting his hips up, trying to entice her onto him already. “Sarah,” he whined. 

Finally, she decided to just move it to the side, and sink onto him. The stretch after so long was a pleasant burn. 

His eyes rolled back, and his hips jumped, wanting to fill her more. 

“How are you so wet?” he asked. They hadn’t kissed for that long. Usually, it took a little more to get her this soaked. 

A wicked smile spread over her face, “I may have gotten myself off while I was waiting, thinking about finally seeing you again.”

“Fuck.” 

She was a vision. Riding him after so long? Wearing his jersey? Confessing to touching herself in this bed thinking of and waiting for him? He was the luckiest man on the planet. 

She pitched forward to get the right angle, and moaned, loud and earnest. Good thing they moved him two floors up from the team. 

He tried to brace himself, but the fantasy of it, of her being here and wearing his jersey - the golden C winking at him, reminding him of all the work he'd done to get here - knowing his name was on her back made him groan out loud. His restraint stretched until it was paper thin. 

His hands explored under the jersey only to feel something smooth tied at her hip and lace at her ribcage. 

He coughed, “are you wearing lingerie?” 

“Just for you,” she said, meeting his heated gaze with a coy smile. 

He didn’t think this could get any better. Now, his mind was wild with possibilities. 

“Come for me and I'll show you.”

Holy shit. 

The little control he had snapped and he flooded her with a loud groan of her name.

Sarah's hands traced his arms, entwining their fingers before guiding them to rest on either side of his head as she leaned forward to kiss him. 

His chest pressed into hers, catching the scratchy logo on his jersey as he tried to catch his breath. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

Shaking her head, she pushed herself off of him to go to the bathroom. She needed to clean up and readjust before the next part of her plan could move forward.

He caught his breath and tried to wrap his mind around what had just happened. It was almost too fast for him to remember the way he wanted. The bathroom door opened and he looked over.

“Alright, captain,” she said, leaning on the door frame. She felt incredibly silly, but relished the way his eyes widened at the nickname, “are you ready to see what I have for you?” 

Oh God. 

He nodded, though he wasn’t sure how he could possibly be prepared for what was coming. 

“Do you want to, or should I?” she asked, fiddling with the hem of his jersey, exposing the little heart tattooed on her thigh. 

“You can.” His voice squeaked a little as he said it, and he blushed. 

Being sexy wasn’t really in her forte, but Sarah tried her best. She lifted the jersey over her head and thought briefly about tossing it in his face. Deciding that was a step too far, she let it fall to the floor. 

Quinn gaped. 

Most of the time, Sarah wore cotton briefs - occasionally she switched them for lace or a thong, but this was something totally different than what he was used to seeing her in.

For one, the matching set was so sheer, he could see her nipples through the swirling pattern of the black lace. Then, there was the fact that it was obviously made to be removed. The bra tied in front and her underwear tied at the hips, each with a silky black ribbon, like she was a gift for him to unwrap. 

His mind ran away with the thought of tugging the bow on her bra undone with his teeth. 

When she did a little twirl so he could see the back, the breath knocked out of his lungs. She looked so damn good, she might just kill him. His heart might just explode. 

“What do you think?” she asked, walking closer. She could already see how much he liked it in his wide eyes and panting mouth, but she wanted to hear him say it. 

“I -” He didn't know it was possible to get hard so soon after coming. 

“Do you like it, Captain?” 

His breathing hitched. He never thought he'd have a captain kink, but hearing the title come out of her mouth while she was wearing that? He might just develop one. 

Adjusting the bows at her hips so they sat more naturally, Sarah looked at him and repeated, “do you like it, Quinn?” 

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Yes. I love it.” 

She smiled and climbed onto the bed then straddled him. His hands went to her waist of their own volition.

Her hips ground down. 

“You can’t do that,” he said, teeth gritted as he forced the words over a moan. The soft texture of the lace against his cock was incredible. 

“What?” 

“You can’t ride me again. I won’t last and you haven’t come yet.” 

She leaned down so her mouth was inches from his, her breath making him hyper aware of his own mouth and how much he wanted it on her. 

“And what are you going to do about that, Captain Hughes?” 

He topped her so fast that Sarah grunted and let out a little giggle when her back slammed into the mattress. 

“Sorry,” he breathed, only half meaning it as he planted a wet kiss at the base of her throat. He moved down her chest, following the outline of her bra with his mouth. He almost made good on his fantasy of biting it open, but held off. He wanted to watch her fall apart with it on. 

“What were you thinking about when you were getting yourself off?” he asked, kissing over her tattoo. 

“You,” she panted. 

“And what were you imagining me doing?” 

She whined. 

“What was I doing, Sarah?” he asked, lifting his mouth from where he’d just kissed down to the band of her panties. 

“You were eating me out,” she confessed, a blush rising high on her cheeks. 

Sometimes, he wished she would have told him how much she fantasized about and enjoyed oral sex before the first time he’d done it. There were four solid months he could have been pleasing her he would never get back. 

He smirked a little, “is that what you want now?” 

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” he asked, tracing his fingers up and down her thighs. 

“Yes, Quinn.” 

He tutted, “Yes, what?” he asked as his lips went to her inner thigh. 

The bolt of electricity that fractured up her spine tipped her voice into a high, breathy whimper.

When she didn’t answer, he repeated the question again, ghosting his fingers against the lace of her panties. 

Her hips jumped. “Yes, Captain.” 

Oh, it was definitely a kink now. He couldn’t get over the sound of it coming out of her mouth. 

He made a satisfied noise and hooked two fingers under the lace gusset, pulling it away from her experimentally. The ties pulled taught, but didn't seem to want to slide over her hips. He tugged again, a little harder. 

Flinging a hand down, Sarah grasped the band, “you're going to rip them.”

“I'll buy you more,” he said, almost off handedly, still pulling. 

“Quinn, that's not the point. Please don't.”

The pulling stopped, and he pulled back to look into her face. “Okay. I'm sorry.”

Her face melted into a smile, “thank you.” She reached down to ease the ties over her hips. 

“No,” he breathed. 

Her eyes snapped to his, questioning.

Before she could ask what he wanted instead, he was knocking her hand away and licking one of the ribbons at her left hip into his mouth.

He pulled it away from her with his teeth, eyes growing darker when the bow unraveled and the pieces fell apart. 

Taking his time to kiss and lick his way to the other tie, he repeated the action, and groaned when it also untied so easily. 

He pulled on the whole thing and flung the garment away. It sailed somewhere across the room, ties flailing. 

Sarah bought this set because it was cute and sort of reminiscent of her black bikini he liked so much. She didn't realize what a fetish he would have for the bows. 

Settling back between her legs, she whined as he parted her lips and blew on her hot core. Shivers ran up her spine and down to all her fingers and toes.

“What were you thinking about?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“When you were touching yourself, what were you thinking about me doing?” 

“You were eating me out,” she repeated, confused. 

His laugh chuffed a burst of hot air against her that had her squirming.

“I mean how. What exactly was I doing? 

“You want me to describe it to you?”

“I want to do it for you,” he confessed, voice gravelly. 

She made a little squeaking noise that told him how much that idea excited her.

“Tell me how you want me to touch you,” he said before he leaned in to press his tongue against her, just to feel her twitch. 

Something inside her broke. Even though she felt depraved at the very thought of telling him this, it was too late to go back. The possibility of feeling it had taken over her body and wouldn’t let it go. 

“You had your fingers on my g-spot,” she breathed. 

“How many?” 

She squirmed again.

“How many, Sarah?” he repeated, circling her entrance, enthralled at the way she flexed.  

“Two.” Her mind made her continue and she squeaked, “then three.” 

His eyes widened and shot to hers. “Will they fit?” 

She nodded. “If you get me off first, they should.” 

His eyes were blown dark and full of mischief when he glanced down then back up to meet hers again. “And how was I using my mouth?” 

She moaned out loud just thinking about it. “You were doing that suck and flick thing with your tongue.” 

He had no idea what she meant.

He'd done it before: the night they'd been eliminated from the finals last season, but she couldn't very well bring that up. I want you to eat me out the way you did when you'd had one of the worst nights of your career? There was no way. Maybe if she demonstrated...

“I can show you,” she said, grasping one of his shoulders, “I need a part of you.” 

He toyed for a moment with the idea of presenting her his dick, but if he did that, he wouldn’t want to stop feeling her mouth, which defeated the whole purpose of this. Instead, he crawled over her and tipped his head to expose the column of his throat. 

His eyes rolled back as her open mouth connected with his hypersensitive skin. She ran her tongue over his pulse, following it with her bottom lip, before ending with suction, and a flick with the tip of her tongue.

Moaning, he ground against her hot center when she did it again and again.

He wrenched himself away before he could follow through with his desires to sheath himself and take her any way she would let him. 

Settling back onto his stomach, he shook his head to get back into the right frame of mind before leveling his gaze with her perfect, pretty pearl again. 

He tried to follow the movement of her mouth, and her hips jumped at the feeling. 

“Quinn,” she whined as he eased two fingers into her, curling them against that sensitive spot. “Oh my god.”

He continued on. She could feel the movement of his chin, up and down and in and out with each pass of his tongue. 

“Harder,” she begged. 

He dug his fingers into her soft spot even more. 

Throwing her head back, she moaned loudly. “Oh my god, Quinn. Just like that. Don't stop. Please don't stop.” 

Like he would ever stop when she was at his mercy like this. Grinding into the mattress, he continued on, moaning at the way her body undulated as she moved with him. 

She let out a gasping noise as if someone had forced all the air out of her in one swift hit. Her core began to pulse around his fingers, trying to suck them deeper inside her. 

Tipping her chin back, Sarah sighed as wave after soft wave of pleasure crashed over her.

When she stopped contracting so tightly, he waited until one of her aftershocks passed to work another finger into her. 

Her voice echoed around the hotel room as she cried out. 

He said a silent prayer of thanks to whoever had the wherewithal to separate them from the team. There was no way he wanted anyone, let alone someone who knew them, to overhear this.

“So good, Quinn,” she croaked out. “Feels so full.”

He continued kissing her bundle of nerves the way she wanted, pausing every few passes to suck a little more intensely. 

A surge of pleasure coiled low in her belly, winding tighter and tighter until every breath ended in a moan. She felt so full and stretched open. So… Alive. All other thoughts fell out of her brain except Quinn and his silver tongue and wicked fingers. 

Feeling as if she might just shatter to pieces if she didn't get some relief, Sarah moaned and panted and begged, “please, Quinn. Please.”

She had no idea what she was asking for, but the wave of it kept coming and coming until that pleasure was winding up her spine and pulling so tight, she thought it might just wrench every vertebrae apart and fill each gap with the soft promise of her impending release. 

He could feel her high building and kept urging her up the slope. Anxious for her summit, he sealed his mouth to her, milking her clit like her orgasm might just satiate his hunger.

“Quinn,” she gasped, spine arching as her hands abandoned her nipples and rummaged for some way to ground herself. One ended up in his hair, and the other fisted into the bedspread. “Oh my god. I think I'm gonna…” 

Her voice dissolved into a noise he'd never heard her make as her muscles locked around his fingers. He forced them to continue, working through her orgasm. 

Quite suddenly, as pleasure whirled through her veins, he unlocked a space deep within her she didn't even know existed. 

A feeling, intense and ferocious, swelled within her until something molten erupted in her belly like a long dormant volcano. A tsunami of white-hot ecstasy crashed over her.

“Oh, fuck! Quinn!”

She heard him groan as if every fantasy he'd ever had was being fulfilled. 

Though he knew women could, he’d never seen it in person, never even imagined what feeling her release gush over his hand would be like.

Sometime last season, Beauvillier had gone on and on about making his girl squirt, and Quinn remembered wishing he would keep it to himself. He didn't want to think about that every time he saw them together. 

Now, having experienced it first hand, he understood why Tito wanted to tell everyone he knew. 

Pleasure continued to ripple through her. No high had ever gone on this long. It eased away the tension that had knotted up in her body.

All at once, sensitivity and overstimulation set in.

“Too much, too much,” she croaked, trying to squirm away from his touch. 

He’d been so mesmerized watching her face, he hadn't realized his fingers were still moving. They uncoiled and stilled, and she melted into the mattress as a sigh melted from her lips. 

Her chest rose and fell steeply, the tie of her bra pulling taught with every heavy inhale, making the cups ride up the swell of her breasts. God, she was so beautiful.

It took quite a while for her to come down. He gently eased his fingers out only after she stopped pulsing. 

A whine escaped her throat at the sudden emptiness. 

Slowly coming back to herself, Sarah registered something wet underneath her. 

“Oh my god,” she breathed. “Did I -” her eyes darted to his as her face flushed with the reality of what had just happened, “did you make me squirt?” 

“Yeah," he said, crawling over her again, "and it was the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life.”

The embarrassment she felt at making such a mess ebbed away with his confession. 

“No one's ever done that to me before. I haven't even been able to.” 

A look of immense pride took over his face. “Did you like it? I mean, it seemed like you liked it.” 

She nodded, “I've never felt anything like it.” 

He brought his lips to hers, and the taste of herself on his tongue made her passion throb to life again. 

“Well, Captain,” she said a little while later, smiling at the way his jaw slackened and eyelids grew heavy at the title. “I think I've got one more round in me. What do you want?” 

He twitched against her. 

“I just want you,” he brought his mouth to her neck. “Want to feel you come on my cock,” he murmured into her skin.

“I think we can arrange for that,” she said, fingers winding into his hair. 

Bracing up on his elbows, his gaze fell to her bra. 

Instead of using his mouth, he twirled one of the ribbons around his finger and pulled gently to ease the bow undone. It fell apart, revealing a knot in the middle. 

“It kept coming undone,” Sarah confessed, hands coming up to help him with the knot, which had pulled incredibly tight amidst her heavy breathing and writhing around.

“I think it's stuck. I can't get it out while it's on me, anyway,” she said, raising her arms above her head. “Here.”

At least he'd been able to remove her bottoms the way he wanted. He eased the lace over the swell of her breasts and helped her lift it off. 

He made love to her the way he did whenever he got home from a long time away - earnestly and full of wonder. Compliments fell from his lips like raindrops, as if they didn’t cost a thing.  

“Fuck, Sarah, you feel so good.” 

“I can't believe you're mine.” 

“You're so pretty. I can't stop looking at you.”

“God, I'm so lucky.”  

They didn’t cost him anything, but they made Sarah feel like she was worth a million dollars.

“I love that sound,” he murmured when she gasped in pleasure and followed it with a low moan.  

As he drove into her again and again, he shuttered and moaned, feeling like she was going to shatter him into a million little pieces

He'd been hot all night. A sheen of sweat had spread over his skin as soon as she'd climbed on top of him in his jersey. The prospect of a fantasy being fulfilled sending his body into a frenzy. Working her up to that intense high hadn't been a walk in the park either. He'd been on edge and so focused. Now, he felt like his body was on fire.

She felt and sounded and looked so good. He couldn't think of anything but her.

When she tipped her face to the side with a loud moan, he attacked her jaw and neck with his lips, desperate to taste her again. 

She was here. She was in Boston. She was here, in his hotel, in Boston. He just made her squirt, and he didn't have to be down to the bus until 10 the next morning. He must have been doing something right.  

When he felt her fall apart around his cock, he breathed through it and hung on for dear life, twitching with the bliss of it.

Coming down from her high, Sarah was mesmerized by him. The defined set of his jaw, the sweaty sheen to his skin, how his curls fell over his forehead.

“You're so handsome, Quinn.”

She knew he was holding on, hoping to urge another high from her, but she didn't have one to give him. It was time to send him over the edge. 

Propping up on her elbows, she traced her mouth along his jaw up to his ear. He let out a panicked little whimper. 

“Want to feel you,” she whispered. 

His hips stuttered.

“Want you to fill me up. Come for me, Captain.” 

White spots blipped in his vision and he had no choice but to obey. 

Her name fell from his mouth like a preyer as she pulled him over the edge. 

When they walked back in the room after showering, Sarah realized just how much of a mess she'd made of the bed. There was no way they could sleep in it as it was. 

“Oh no.” 

“What?” Quinn asked, lowering the towel he was running over his hair. 

“We need new sheets and housekeeping is going to know exactly what we've been doing.”

“No they won't.”

She pointed to the bed, “you want to tell me they're not going to know we weren't just having sex?”

He laughed, “fine. So they might know. What does it matter? It's not like we know any of them.”

“It's so embarrassing.”

“What is? That your boyfriend made you come so hard you squirted?”

“No,” she was blushing through, “I mean…no. That was amazing.”

“So what's the worry?”

“I just…I don't want anyone else to see.”

He laughed, “that's fair. I can just ask them to bring some extra bedding. No one has to come into the room.”

She nodded, “okay.”

He called the desk, and despite his insistence he would prefer to make the bed himself, the hotel sent someone up anyway. 

Sarah folded the comforter before hiding in the bathroom. 

Quinn noticed the housekeeper's eyes lingering in one corner of the room. When he glanced over, he saw Sarah’s panties from where he'd thrown them, ties scrawled over the carpet like calligraphy strokes. So much for being discreet.

After giving the woman a tip, he tucked them in Sarah's suitcase before letting her know the coast was clear. 

As they settled into bed, Quinn relished holding her close.

Before sleep could overtake her completely, Sarah needed to set something straight. 

“I hope you know that Captain thing is only for special occasions. There is no way I'm calling you Captain all the time.”

“That’s fine,” he said, laughing. “Makes it more special when you do.”

“To be fair, I didn’t expect you to like it so much,” she said. 

She’d called him Captain as a kind of joke, and half expected him to tell her not to do it again. Quinn didn’t even like pet names. She vividly remembered the way he grimaced the first (and last) time she called him baby.

He ran his fingers through her soft hair. “I don’t know that I would have either. I’ve never had that happen before. You said it, and it went straight to my dick. I think your lingerie had something to do with that.” 

She propped herself up on an elbow. “You liked the lingerie?” she teased, full well knowing the answer. 

He scoffed, “I'm going to dream about it for the rest of this damn road trip.” 

Giggling, she leaned down to kiss him. “Maybe I'll have it on when you get home,” she said against his mouth. 

He groaned, “don't joke about that.” 

“Why not? Wouldn't it give you something to look forward to?” 

“I always look forward to coming home to you.” 

She looked down at him for a long time, memorizing the love in his eyes. “I love you, Captain Hughes,” she said before lowering her mouth to his to tell him that way too. 

“Tease,” he chided when she pulled away. 

She smiled and settled back, laying her head on his chest. 

“I love you, too,” he whispered into her hair before they fell asleep. “I feel like the luckiest guy in the world.”

“I love you,” he said, kissing her forehead.

The next morning, Sarah put on his jersey again and put his morning hard on to good use - slower this time so he could remember it properly.

After room service breakfast and a very steamy shower, he walked her down to the lobby to catch her car to the airport. 

“I love you too.”

“Thank you for coming.” 

“You're welcome. You should really be thanking Brady, though.”

He watched her pull away before heading back to his room to pack his bag. 

On the elevator ride, Quinn did just as Sarah suggested. 

Love you man. I owe you big time. 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[wandasslut3000]

Pretty girl

Pairing: Love Quinn x Fem!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, public sex, bottom!reader, strap on use, club setting, alcohol consumption, praise, degrading, fingering, marking, nude photography, fluff, teasing, birthday sex.

WC: 1.1k

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Music blaring, lights flashing, your hips sway to the music. Your drink in your hands as you enjoy the light buzz in your body. It's your birthday, your party drunk out of their minds, some of the girls finding themselves a special someone for the night.

That however was not on your mind, the burn in your belly intense as you move to take another sip.

Just as your hand relaxes, your body moving along to the beat of the speakers, you feel two soft hands grab you by the waist, a strong hint of your favorite perfume invading your scenes. "There's my birthday girl, I've been looking all over for you baby."

Love presses herself against you, your hips now flushed together as more sensual music plays, her nails lightly scratching your sides making you shiver at the feeling.

Downing the rest of your drink, you turn to face her, a silly smile on your lips as you move to wrap your arms around her neck, holding your girlfriend close as if she would fade away if you were to let go of her.

"Yeah? You missed me?" she nods.

"I miss you every time we're apart." You peck her lips, "You're so cheesy." You tease.

"Only for you."

Your smile widens, leaning closer towards her, the distance between your lips almost non-existent. "You'd be insane to do it for anyone else."

Love groans, grabbing onto your face and pulling you into a lustful kiss, the taste of alcohol on each others tongues. Giggling, you both pull apart when you hear a Forty yell, "Get a room!"

You look up at Love mischievously, "Maybe we should baby, I think it's time for my birthday present." You tease and smirk draws itself onto her face.

"Whatever my girl wants, she gets." Taking you by the hand, and bringing you towards the back of the club. Love hands a man a hundred dollar bill before we are let into a private room.

"Wow, you took 'get a room' literally huh?" You joke and she winks. Closing the door behind her and pulling you into another kiss.

"Happy birthday." She murmurs against you, her lips moving to trace the side of your neck, sucking and biting lightly at the soft skin there, drawing small whimpers out of you.

"Love, please..."

She smirks, pulling away from you and taking your hand. You just then notice your surroundings, a large bed placed in the back of the room, a small box at the base of it.

Your girlfriend moves behind you, wrapping her arms lightly around your torso and leaning into your ear. "Strip and lay down on the bed for me?"

It was more of a question than a demand, a kiss placed right behind the shell of your ear as a way to underline her statement. A shiver trailing down your spine as you nod.

Wordlessly, you do as she says. Freeing yourself from her grasp and your clothing before spreading yourself across the bed, inviting the brunette to have her way with you.

"You look so pretty like that."

You bit your lip and whine, clenching your thighs together at her husky tone, watching as she opens the box and smirks at the contents.

A large flesh colored strap-on matching her fair skin. Part of you wonders how she even brought it here as your eyes stay glued to the item, she fastens the harness onto herself, the cock veiny and free, ready to be inside you.

Crawling up the mattress, Love drags a finger up your body. Starting from your stomach, moving to trace the swell of your breast, past your collarbone and finally up to your lips, slipping the digit inside.

"Pretty girl." A dark twinkle flashes in her eyes as she watches you, batting your eyelashes at her as you swirl your tongue around her. "All mine."

You nod, another finger going past your lips, "Ah... come on baby, there we go." She smiles lazily as you gag around her, tears welling up in your eyes as her hand moves in a faster pace, her other hand moving to wrap around your neck, making you roll your eyes in pleasure.

"Yeah... get'em all nice and wet."

Finally pulling them out of your mouth, your saliva coating her digits, she brings them down to your pussy, teasing your throbbing clit.

Love circles your bundle of nerves, your hips twitching against her, Your bottom lip between your teeth as you try not to moan, you clench your eyes shut in anticipation.

"Nuh uh, none of that, I want everyone to hear how good you take my cock." Her thumb drags your lip down before you kiss the pad of it, making her smile.

You feel her replace her fingers with the strap, your wetness helping you grind onto the toy.

Soon the cock shift's into your entrance, thrusting into you, your legs wrapping around her back as her hips buck into yours.

"Yes, uuh, yess- fuck! Oh baby, mmphf-! Right there." You gasp out, your hands tangling in her hair.

Love trails her kisses down your neck once more and latching onto your nipple, your squelching pussy sucking in the strap with little to no resistance at all.

"Go on babygirl, make some more of those pretty.."

One deep thrust.

"Noises.."

Another.

"For... me.." More harsh and deep thrusts stretching you out.

"Please!" You practically sob, your body spasming in pleasure. You don't even know what your begging for at this point, the wetness in between your thighs pulsing.

"Imagine how confused your friends must be 'cause we left so soon." She taunts.

"All because my dirty girl wanted me to fuck her dumb."

"Oh my god!" You gasp, throwing your head back as your eyes roll in a pleasure. Her thumb landing on your clit and playing with the bundle of nerves. Your orgasm rushing through you.

"Yeah? You like me fucking you like this?" She sounds breathless, also chasing her climax.

"Fuckk..." your legs tremble as you scream, mind slowly coming back down from your high. Hearing her moans of pleasure in your ear as she does the same.

Fluttering your eyes open you find your girlfriend's phone out, flashes coming from the camera as she takes a few pictures of you, and your marked and sticky body.

Your cheeks reddening when she pulls out, grabbing a shot of your sopping cunt.

"You're so gorgeous." Love stares down at you in awe. Putting her phone back away she moves to kiss you.

"My pretty girl"

[heartschampion]

september 30th — ethan landry

PAIRING. ethan landry x fem!reader

SUMMARY. in which you make a bet with your boyfriend, ethan, the night before the start of october. thirty-one days of sex.

CONTENT. no ghostface!au, ethan bailey is canon!!, established relationship, fluff, bantering, a little suggestive, no smut, basically a prologue chapter, no beta, not proofread.

WORD COUNT. 1.9k

previous. masterlist. next.

11:49 PM. 

It’s times like this where I find myself thinking — really thinking — deeper into life and its meaning. The closer I look, the more I start to realize how glorified life is. I follow the same routine day-in and day-out. Wake up, get ready, go to class, go home, and get ready for the same thing tomorrow. It’s like the only time I get to have a reprise is in moments late into the night, all snuggled up and ready to sleep. A sliver of freedom in a meticulously bland and boring way of life.

Not to be melodramatic or anything. Ethan often told me I have a knack for that.

The blinding light of my laptop screen hits my retinas with a harsh glare despite having set the brightness to its dimmest setting. Still, beggars can’t be choosers, so I tough it out. I scroll aimlessly through my Tumblr dashboard, skimming past posts until one catches my attention just enough for me to stop and actually read.

‘Mattheo Riddle x Reader, Niccolo Govender x Reader, Jack Ch—’

“Ugh,” a small groan sounds from beside me on the bed. With a quirk of a smile, I glance beside me at my boyfriend, Ethan Bailey, who is laid there in all his glory. He has his arm draped over his eyes, covering them from the light emitting from my laptop. For a split second, I feel bad for disturbing his sleep. Ethan lets out another groan before throwing his arm off to the side, his eyes flickering over to my figure. “Angel, can we please go to bed?”

I sigh as I hear the pleading tone of his voice and shoot him an apologetic look.

“Just a few more minutes, Eth. Promise.”

Ethan simply gives me a blank stare, not believing my words for a second. He rolls over onto his side, now fully facing me with a sulky little pout on his lips. As cute as he is, I can��t fall for his tricks and forget about the task I had assigned myself. Ethan raises his head from the pillow, craning his neck to peek at my screen. Curious, he asks, “What are you doing anyways?”

A soft smile crosses my face at his question, both amused by the innocence behind it and touched by his curiosity. I reach over to pet his messed up curls, a habit that I had developed ever since the two of us moved in together for the new semester. Immediately, Ethan melts into my touch, visibly relaxing at the contact shared between the two of us.

“Just waiting for all the October context to start being posted.”

“Why October specifically?” He asks while furrowing his brows in confusion, completely and blissfully unaware of what I was talking about at all. It was kind of cute that he didn’t know, especially considering Richie of all people ran an active and thriving blog. It was literally the worst kept secret ever. Even Quinn knew. “Something special happening?”

“Mmm, something like that…” I giggle, causing Ethan to raise his furrowed brow at me in question. Unable to keep a straight face at the overly serious expression that he’s giving me, I burst out in laughter, deciding to finally enlighten him to the world of Kinktober. After a few moments, I calm myself down, taking a few deep breaths, letting out some final snickers. On the flip side, Ethan just stares at me blankly, unamused. With a roll of my eyes, I softly scratch at his scalp, confessing the ‘dirty secret’ I had been keeping for so long. “It’s Kinktober. Y’know, when writers just shit out a bunch of written porn?”

“Kink…tober?” Ethan repeats back, his expression contorting into one of confusion. He repeats the word a few more times, looking deep in contemplation while processing the information I had just dumped on him. Without even trying to hide it, I coo at him like an owner would at their pet. Blinking, he deadpans, “So you’re up at midnight just to read porn?”

“Smut.”

“Right. Smut.” He corrects himself, but not without a dramatic show of rolling his eyes in faux annoyance. It’s now my turn to roll my eyes, removing my hand from his hair and flicking his forehead in retaliation. Immediately, Ethan swats my hand away from anywhere near his face and rubs his forehead, grumbling to himself as he gives me a proper stinkeye. In return, I simply give him a cheeky smile and stick out my tongue, albeit a bit childishly.

It doesn’t take much long though until he forgets about the whole ordeal and goes back to the topic at hand. He clicks his tongue, eyes brightening with an idea that I know could be no good and smirks at me. With a lazy drawl, he asks smugly, “Why read about sex when you have me?”

Not expecting that of all things to come out of his mouth, I’m taken by surprise. A snort escapes my lips at the suggestive implication in his words. Placing my laptop beside me, I prop myself up on my elbow and lean down to Ethan, squinting at him. “What’re you trying to say, Bailey?”

Like a predator stalking his prey, he gazes up at me, a tinge of seduction behind those innocent looking brown eyes. He eyes me with temptation, luring me in before he can swallow me whole. His larger hand stalks around my hip, caressing at my skin as he travels across its smooth surface. Suddenly, I’m pulled in, now on top of him and straddling his hips where I can feel him start to harden.

“There’s no way some dumb words could ever be better than…me.”

He’s right and we both know it, but a bigger part of me wants to challenge him on that. Maybe it’s his cockiness in his tone, or the fact that his growing boner is directly pressing against my clothed core as he grinds his hips. Either way, I raise my eyebrow, looking down at him from above. “Really, huh? Big words coming from someone who came within the first three minutes last time.”

At the reminder of the last time we had sex, his eyes widened and his face flushed in embarrassment. “That was an accident!” He vehemently exclaims, defending himself for his early ejaculation. 

If I were to be completely honest, I was kind of turned on from how easily he came from just being inside of me, not even fully engulfed. The idea was lewder than the circumstances surrounding it, but the prospect of him almost coming inside of me — Even though we were protected — was as enticing as it was terrifying.

“Besides, you know how good I can make you feel.” Ethan then attempts to wink, his eyelids not cooperating, leading to him blinking instead. Realizing that he messed up his attempt to be smooth, he shakes his head and instead smiles sheepishly.

I giggle at his silliness, brushing aside the curls near his eyes with a level of fondness I once never would have known to exist. He really was perfect for me. Pinching his cheeks, I keep poking at him and his cocky attitude. “You think you can keep up?”

“Babe, I know I can.” He states as confident as ever, a smirk playing on his face. Without another word, he starts to run his hands up my thighs, my skin prickling up at his electric touch. Reaching my hips, he starts to rub circles around my hip dips, fondling my inner thighs. I let out a deep sigh, both relaxing at his intimate touch, and tensing as his boner pokes into me. Unable to help myself, I grind my pulsating core against him, satisfying the need.

“So cute...”

I whine at his words, embarrassed at just how badly I needed him at this moment. He was the one who started it in the first place, yet I was the one here left to look like a mess instead of him. It was unfair. Continuing to grind against him, he suddenly stops his movements. I hiss out, “Eth, you annoying fuck…”

Out of nowhere, he flips the two of us around, the lower half of his body pressed against me as he looks down on me. I’m caged in his arms, each one placed beside me, trapping me as his prisoner. Ethan cocks his head to the side, an innocent look on his face. He speaks in a sickeningly sweet voice, “What’s the matter, angel?”

“You know what’s wrong.”

“Do I?” He asks, pretending to think about it.

“Eth!” I hiss, squirming underneath him. He’s so close, the only thing separating us being the clothes we have on. Never have I ever wanted to not have any on more than I do right now. I needed to feel him, all of him. Not just his warmth, but skin against skin to truly prove that he was right there with me.

Ethan lets out a chuckle, grinning at how needy I was being. I bet he really got off on that, huh? Knowing that he was in control, having me wrapped around his finger. Fuck, I needed him in me whether it was his fingers or his dick. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head at me like he was reprimanding me. “Thirty-one days, angel. You can wait a few hours.”

Just like that, Ethan shifts off of me and back to his side of the bed with a satisfied smile on his face. The sudden switch from before to now was jarring and it took me a few moments before I completely processed what just happened. I scoff, propping myself up on my elbows and looking over at him.

“Are you serious?” “Super.” The pain in the ass called my boyfriend responds, closing his eyes, ready to fall asleep.

“You’re literally cockblocking yourself!” I sputter out in disbelief. Ethan Bailey, the boy who couldn’t keep his hands off of me. The same boy who literally cried the first time we had sex — I did too. The same boy who was now laying in our bed with a rock-hard boner, yet doing nothing about it when he had the more than eager opportunity to. What a fucking idiot.

“Mmm,” he hummed, thinking over his words carefully. “I can handle it.”

I let out an overdramatic huff as I collapsed onto the bed. Looking over, I peer at Ethan’s ‘sleeping’ face. A few moments passed of me just staring at him with a blank expression before he opened one eye and looked at me with a questioning expression. “Can’t sleep, love?”

“Don’t even.” I warned, glaring at him and his feigned nonchalance.

He chuckles, and I can feel him shift in the bed. Soon, arms wrap around me and pull me into a tight embrace. My face is gently placed against Ethan’s nape where I often laid on nights like this. Without a word, I wrap my arms and legs around him like a koala with a tree, seeking any contact with him. I bury my face into his nape, taking in his cinnamon scent.

“Sorry.” Despite his words, Ethan lets out another chuckle, the vibrations of it throughout his body a soothing feeling against my tense body.

I grumble, “You’re not sorry.”

He huffs in amusement at my sulkiness, petting my hair. Pecks and kisses litter my face in a frenzy as a way of him trying to make me feel better. To his credit, it does work despite my attempts to not let it. How could I ever resist his kisses? Peering down at me, Ethan smiles softly before kissing my lips. Cinnamon chapstick and lemonade citrus.

“Happy…uh…Kinktober, angel.”

[eyesthatroll]

lilac, quinn hughes

fem!reader / established relationship / 0.9k words

"How do I look?" you ask, descending the last few steps of the stairwell. The sound of your heels clicking softly on the wooden steps draws Quinn's attention away from his phone. He glances up and his eyes widen, his phone forgotten as it slips from his grasp and lands with a soft thud on the carpet. For a moment, he just stands there, mouth agape, struggling to find words, his expression a mix of surprise and admiration.

"Wow.. you-you look phenomenal." His voice is barely more than a whisper, filled with genuine admiration. You can't help but roll your eyes, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you shake your head slightly. Phenomenal? Maybe not, but you did feel a little more beautiful today. You had taken extra care with your makeup, experimenting with shades of lavender and soft pink to complement your lilac, flowery sundress. The delicate fabric swayed gently with each movement, catching the light in a way that made the floral patterns seem almost alive. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was a departure from your usual style, and it made you feel special.

"Stop it." Heat blooms across your cheeks, spreading like wildfire as Quinn closes the distance between you in a few swift strides. His hands trace a delicate path along the fabric of your dress, his touch barely grazing the intricate patterns before settling gently at your waist.

"You are so insanely gorgeous," he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. "How'd I land such a pretty girl?" His words are innocent, honest, but the intensity behind them makes your heart flutter. The sincerity in his eyes, the way his fingers curl around your waist, anchoring you to the moment, all contribute to the rush of genuine happiness that floods through you.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, attempting to stifle an even bigger smile. "You look gorgeous too, Quinn,"

He huffs playfully, rolling his eyes in a teasing mimicry of your earlier gesture. "Oh yeah?" he asks, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You reach up, your fingers brushing against the smooth material of his mint green satin dress shirt. The fabric feels cool and luxurious under your touch as you adjust his collar, smoothing out a barely visible wrinkle. The gentle scent of his cologne, a subtle blend of cedarwood and citrus, fills the small space between you, and you inhale a deep breath of it before speaking. "Mhm," you nod, your eyes locking with his again. "So handsome."

He looked so pretty in mint green. You always loved seeing him in pastel colors; they brought out the warmth in his complexion and offered a refreshing change from the same old black suit he often wore. His shirt shimmered softly under the light, emphasizing the depth of his hazel eyes and the relaxed charm he exuded when dressed up.

His hair had grown longer since the end of the playoffs. The once neatly trimmed style was now replaced by a cascade of messy curls that framed his face, softening his features and adding back a boyish charm, ending just at the nape of his neck. Your fingers reach up instinctively, tangling into the deep brown tresses. You gave a gentle tug, feeling the silky strands slip between your fingers, and he draws closer with a content sigh.

"Will it mess up your makeup if I kiss you?" He asks, despite already knowing the answer, with a longing within his voice, as if seeing each other for the first time in years.

You let out a laugh. "Yes."

He lets out a dramatic groan, head falling into your shoulder, more akin to a boy denied his favorite treat than a grown man. "Just one?" he pouts.

You roll your eyes, knowing all too well that with him, it was never 'just one.' 'Just one' always turned into 'just five minutes,' which inevitably became 'fuck, I'm late.' Today, you couldn't afford to be late. Both of you had semi-important roles in the wedding, you as a bridesmaid and him as a groomsman. "On the cheek," you compromise.

He shoots you a pointed look, and you raise your brows, a silent challenge passing between you before he finally relents with a sigh. "Fine." He agrees begrudgingly, mirth in his tone.

Smiling at him, you tilt your head and lean up on your tiptoes, closing the distance between the two of you. You press a delicate kiss onto his cheek, the shade leaving a pale imprint behind. As you pull away, a teasing glint sparkles in your eyes. "Oops, you got a little somethin' there," you comment with a playful smirk, your gaze lingering on the faint lipstick stain now adorning his cheek.

"Leave it," he responds, his voice light, but with a hint of possessiveness. "Let everyone know I belong to you."

A sudden chill rushes through your body, sending a shiver down your spine. Though you recognize the playful tone in his words, a surge of pride swells within you at the notion of everyone at the wedding knowing he's yours, marked by a simple yet tangible reminder.

"Let's go, before I accidentally rip your pants off," you exhale.

He barks out laughter, a warm melody that fills the air around you, easing the tension that had briefly settled between you. He might be laughing, but you weren't joking.

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

In Concert

masterlist

note: i just like writing nonsense outros

warnings: suggestive (sex jokes ig)

word count: 1.2 k

♡ summary: Luke brings Jack and a few teammates to his girlfriend's concert

♡ Luke Hughes x popstar!reader

request ✗

Y/n had performed on stages just as big as this one, some bigger, with just as many fans with as big of an audience. But it wasn’t every concert that her boyfriend and some of his teammates, including his brother, were in said audience. To watch her perform. Songs about her boyfriend. Not all were about him but… a couple were and that was bad enough.

All while she was singing, Luke felt as though he was the only other person in the room. It brought him back to when she first played it for him. Sitting in bed, with her guitar in her lap, her back to his bare chest. And when she lent her head back when the song was over, he pressed a loving and passionate kiss to her lips, their lips touching the other's chins. Whispering soft ‘I love you’s and sweet nothings against their lips.

All while she was singing, Luke felt as though he was the only other person in the room. It brought him back to when she first played it for him. Sitting in bed, with her guitar in her lap, her back to his bare chest. And when she lent her head back when the song was over, he pressed a loving and passionate kiss to her lips, their lips touching the other's chins. Whispering soft ‘I love you’s and sweet nothings against their lips.

All while she was singing, Luke felt as though he was the only other person in the room. It brought him back to when she first played it for him. Sitting in bed, with her guitar in her lap, her back to his bare chest. And when she lent her head back when the song was over, he pressed a loving and passionate kiss to her lips, their lips touching the other's chins. Whispering soft ‘I love you’s and sweet nothings against their lips.

Seeing her smile at the lyrics, listening to the fans echo her words, all about him made him feel more special than he has ever felt in his life. He has the perfect girl, the kind of girl men would kill each other for, and she chooses him. Him. Not only did she choose him, she was singing to thousands of people right now about how she chose him.

“You two are dancing in a snow globe ‘round and ‘round. And he keeps a picture of you in his locker downtown.”

He did, and he had gotten teased relentlessly when he put it there. He didn’t care. He put her picture there to motivate him, she motivates him. Not only to be a better player, but a better person.

“You are in love.”

As she hit the last note, he felt a pat on his shoulder, turning his head to his left he saw the owner of the hand to be his brother, “I don’t think I’ve actually told you this. Me and Quinn say it all the time, but I’m really happy for you.” Just when he thinks it's going to be a nice moment, Jack ruins it by saying, “And you’re so damn lucky, ‘cause if she had more sense she’d see she can do so much better.”

Shuffling Jack hand of his shoulder, the younger boy mutters a small, “Shut up.” that causes Jack to laugh more than he already was from his own comment. Stepping back to let it all out, he comes back forcefully bringing his younger, yet taller, brother into a hug while saying again, “I serious though. I am happy for you, Lukey.” “Thanks, Jack.” 

To break up the soft brotherly moment is the tune to the song that Y/n was most nervous to play with her boyfriend’s brother and friends being here. The fans cheered louder than ever, knowing what came next.

“Think I only want one number in my phone,”

This is the song she interacted with the fans most during, pointing the microphone towards them, bending down to sing closer to the fans. She even took a phone at one point. Luke however did not care about this, his eyes focussed on his girl’s body while she did the famous dance to the music, and his mind focussed on the explicit words coming from her mouth. 

His mind coming down from its haze when it came to the most shared part of the show, the nonsense outro, Y/n had said something earlier about tonight's outro. Leading Luke to believe it was about him. Most of the outros were sexual, but not necessarily about him, it was more about what rhymed. So the fact Y/n said anything, basically confirmed his suspicion. 

“How quickly can you take your clothes off?” “POP QUIZ!” “He told me ‘come here to Jersey’, y'know I did ‘cause that ‘D’ is worthy, I might even leave to get it early..”

Getting a couple pats on the back, it wasn’t only the fans that were yelling and cheering, the guys were having a heyday with the girl’s words. All were yelling their own things to tease the rookie. 

During the last song Luke made his way backstage so he could see his girl as soon as she got off stage. The guys stayed at their seats to finish watching the concert and would make their way to the greenroom after.

After yelling her ‘goodbye’s and ‘I love you’s to her fans, Y/n made her way off stage, running to the boy when she spotted him. Wrapping her arms around his torso, she couldn’t reach his shoulders, the girl buried her head in Luke’s sweater. She feels his forearms resetting on her shoulders and can feel his body lean forward to leave a kiss on the crown of her head.

“The guy’s are gonna come say bye, then they wanna head to a bar. But I thought we could go back to your hotel.”

“Hmm, I’d love that.”

“Good.” He said, bringing his hands to the back of the girl’s thighs and lifting her up, her hands unwrapping from around his torso to land around his neck. They stayed like that in a tight embrace, before Luke lowered the girl and they walked toward her dressing room, they still had time to have a little fun till the guy’s came backstage.

[bloodreinasbathwater]

Little Dove

Quinn Hughes X Pregnant! Reader

a;n it took me forever to finish this chapter, but I think I'm finally back in my groove. I can't wait for you guys to read I've been so excited to put out more fics.

Warnings: pregnancy, arguing, toxic family, suggestive wording lol, anxiety

masterlist link / previous chapters

summary: Y/N's world is turned upside down when she suspects she might be pregnant. Consumed by fear and uncertainty, she takes a pregnancy test but can't bring herself to face the result. She throws the test away and seeks solace in a hot shower, trying to escape the relentless thoughts plaguing her mind.

word count - 4629

...

Y/N stood before the imposing black door, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to gather the courage to face what lay beyond the wooden door. The sleek, polished surface seemed to mock her, its very presence a reminder of the power her parents held over her life.

The stone wall surrounding the entrance loomed above her, casting long shadows that seemed to reach out and grab at her, pulling her towards the inevitable confrontation.

She inhaled deeply, the cool evening air filling her lungs and doing little to calm the storm of emotions that raged within her. Every instinct in her body screamed at her to turn around, to run back to the safety of the car and drive away, leaving behind the suffocating expectations and demands of her family.

With a trembling hand, Y/N reached out and grasped the golden handle, the cold metal biting into her palm. The sensation was almost a relief, a sharp contrast to the burning anxiety that coursed through her veins. She squeezed the handle tightly, as if the physical act could somehow give her the strength she so desperately needed.

"Come on," Quinn urged softly, his voice a gentle whisper in her ear. She felt the warmth of his hand on her back, a comforting presence that seemed to anchor her in the midst of her thoughts. His touch sent shivers down her spine, a reminder of the love and support that he offered her unconditionally.

At her silence, Quinn pressed harder, his fingers kneading the tense muscles of her back. "It won't go as bad as you think it will. I'll be with you the whole time, honey."

Y/N closed her eyes, trying to draw strength from his words. But the unease that had settled in the pit of her stomach refused to be silenced. "I know, Quinn," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the pounding of her own heart.

"It's just... I have a really bad feeling right now. They've never wanted to meet any of my boyfriends, let alone invite them for family dinner. Something about it feels so wrong."

Quinn's hands continued to move along her back, his touch a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. "How about this," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "How ‘bout we play perfect couple with your parents, and then after all of our pain and suffering, we head back home, and I give you one of the Quinn special massages.”

As he spoke, Quinn's hands inched higher, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of her spine before coming to rest on the smooth skin of her shoulders. Y/N couldn't help but let out a soft moan as he massaged a particularly tense spot, the sensation causing her head to fall back against his shoulder. “You can relax and let me take care of things."

"Sound good?" Quinn asked, his voice low and full of promise.

Y/N allowed herself a small smile, the first genuine one she'd felt all evening. "That sounds amazing," she breathed, her body already beginning to relax under his expert touch.

Quinn pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled away. "Let's go before they get suspicious, hmm?"

With a final squeeze of her hand, Quinn stepped forward and rang the doorbell, the sound echoing through the stillness of the night. Y/N took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and preparing herself for the awkward silence and judgmental stares. She knew that with Quinn by her side, she could face anything her parents threw at her.

As Quinn gently pushed Y/N forward, taking the lead and opening the door, they were greeted by an eerie silence that seemed to permeate the house. The absence of voices, the usual bustle of family life, was unnerving, and Y/N felt a chill run down her spine. The only sound that pierced the stillness was the high-pitched, excited barking of the family dog, Cinnamon.

From the shadows, a blur of fur came charging towards them, a ball of energy and enthusiasm that seemed to light up the dimly lit entrance. Y/N couldn't help but let out a squeal of delight as she knelt down, her arms outstretched to catch the wriggling bundle of joy.

"Hi, Cinnamon baby," she cooed, her voice filled with affection as the small dog eagerly licked at her face, its tail wagging furiously. For a moment, all of Y/N's worries and fears melted away, replaced by the pure, unconditional love that radiated from the tiny creature in her arms.

Quinn watched the scene with a smile, his heart warming at the sight of Y/N's happiness. Her laughter, so rare in the face of her family's expectations, was like music to his ears. He chuckled softly as Cinnamon hopped off Y/N's lap and made a beeline for his own legs, her tiny paws clawing at the fabric of his neatly pressed suit pants.

"Hello there," Quinn said, his voice soft and gentle as he leaned down to pat the dog's head. Cinnamon's fur was soft beneath his fingers, and he marveled at the way such a small creature could bring so much joy and comfort to those around it.

But the moment of levity was short-lived, as a voice suddenly spoke from the opposite side of the room, shattering the brief respite from the tension that hung heavy in the air.

"Sorry for the interruption, Miss Y/N," the voice said, its tone formal and detached. "Your parents are ready for you. Please follow me."

Y/N felt her stomach drop at the words, the bitterness and unease settling back into her stomach. She glanced at Quinn, her eyes wide and filled with a silent plea for strength. He gave her a reassuring nod, his hand finding hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Together, they followed the worker, their footsteps echoing on the polished marble floor. There was something ominous in the air, a sense of foreboding that seemed to grow with every step they took. But she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the warmth of Quinn's hand in hers, the strength that flowed between them.

…

Y/N stepped through the sliding door, her heart racing with anticipation and nervousness, she was immediately greeted by the sight of her mother rising from her seat at the table.

Dedra's movements were graceful and measured, her posture perfect and her expression carefully composed. Y/N could feel her father's piercing gaze on her and Quinn, his eyes narrowing as he silently assessed the young man by her side.

Despite the palpable tension in the room, Quinn maintained a charming smile, his demeanor confident and unflappable. He strode towards Derek's seat at the head of the table, his hand outstretched in a gesture of greeting. "Mr. L/N, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," he said, his voice smooth and polished. "I've heard so much about you."

Derek regarded Quinn for a moment, his expression unreadable, before accepting the handshake with a firm grip. "Quinn," he acknowledged, his tone cool and measured. "Welcome to our home."

Y/N quickly guided Quinn to the seat beside her, her fingers lacing with his under the table in a silent show of support. She could feel the weight of her parents' scrutiny, the unspoken questions and judgments hanging heavy in the air.

Dedra, ever the perfect hostess, smiled warmly at the assembled group, her face a mask of polite interest. "Let's begin, shall we?" she said, clapping her hands together. At her signal, a team of immaculately dressed servers emerged from the kitchen, bearing trays laden with an array of sumptuous dishes.

As the servers efficiently set the table, Dedra settled back into her seat, her dress clinging to her figure like a second skin. The chandelier above cast a dazzling light across the room, its crystals refracting and casting shimmering patterns on the walls.

Y/N couldn't help but marvel at her mother's impeccable appearance, the way she seemed to effortlessly command attention and admiration.

But the illusion of perfection was shattered a moment later, as Dedra fixed Y/N with a critical gaze, her lips curving into a small, condescending smile. "Well, you've gotten fat," she remarked, her voice dripping with false concern as she raised a delicate flute of champagne to her lips.

"You know, the past few weeks, your cheeks have seemed to get chubbier. Are you skipping out on that yoga class I recommended?"

Y/N felt the blood drain from her face, her stomach twisting with a mixture of shock and humiliation. She glanced at Quinn, her eyes wide and pleading, silently begging for his support. Quinn's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he fought to maintain his composure.

Clearing her throat, Y/N forced a smile onto her face, her voice trembling slightly as she replied, "I've been focusing on my career, Mom. The yoga class hasn't been a top priority."

Dedra tutted softly, shaking her head in disapproval. "Darling, you know how important it is to maintain your appearance. You don't want to let yourself go, do you? What will people think?"

Y/N bit her lip, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She could feel Quinn's hand tighten around hers, a silent promise of support and protection. But even his comforting presence couldn't erase the sting of her mother's words, the way they cut straight to the heart of her deepest insecurities.

…

As the servers cleared away the first course, Derek turned his attention to Quinn, his eyes narrowing slightly as he appraised the young man. "So, Quinn," he began, his voice deceptively casual, "I hear you're a hockey player. For the Vancouver Canucks, is that right?"

Quinn nodded, his expression confident and self-assured. "Yes, sir. I've been with the team for a few years now. It's been an incredible experience, both on and off the ice."

Derek leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him. "And what exactly do you do for the team? Are you a starter, or do you mostly warm the bench?"

Y/N bristled at her father's tone, the barely concealed disdain dripping from his words. But Quinn seemed unfazed, his smile never wavering as he replied, "I'm a forward, sir. I play on the first line and contribute regularly to the team's success."

Dedra chimed in, her voice saccharine sweet. "That must keep you very busy, Quinn. Do you have any time for hobbies or interests outside of hockey?"

Quinn chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Of course. I believe in maintaining a balanced lifestyle. When I'm not on the ice or training, I enjoy volunteering at local youth centers, mentoring kids who come from tough backgrounds. I also have a passion for photography and love exploring the city with my camera."

Y/N felt a swell of pride at Quinn's words, the way he spoke with such conviction and sincerity. She knew how much his volunteer work meant to him, how he used his platform as a professional athlete to make a real difference in the lives of others.

But her father seemed unimpressed, his mouth twisting into a sardonic smile. "Photography and volunteering? How... quaint. And I suppose these activities are what brought you and Y/N together?"

Y/N's heart skipped a beat, her palms growing clammy as she anticipated Quinn's response. They had agreed to keep the details of their relationship private, to avoid giving her parents any ammunition to use against them.

Quinn, however, remained unruffled. "Actually, sir, Y/N and I met through a mutual friend. We connected over our shared love of art and culture, and things progressed naturally from there. We've been seeing each other for almost a year now, and I can honestly say that she's one of the most incredible women I've ever met."

Y/N's cheeks flushed at Quinn's words, a warm glow spreading through her chest. But her happiness was short-lived, as her father's expression darkened, his eyes flashing with barely contained anger.

"A few months?" he repeated, his voice dangerously low. "And you didn't think to inform us of this development, Y/N? Your mother and I have a right to know about the people you associate with, especially when they're..." he trailed off, his lip curling in distaste as he glanced at Quinn.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She opened her mouth to respond, to defend herself and Quinn, but the words stuck in her throat, trapped behind the lump of fear and anxiety.

Quinn, sensing her distress, reached under the table and took her hand in his, his fingers intertwining with hers in a silent show of support. "With all due respect, sir," he said, his voice calm and measured.

"Y/N is an adult, capable of making her own decisions. Our relationship is built on mutual trust, respect, and love. I understand your concerns as her parents, but I assure you that my intentions towards your daughter are nothing but honorable."

Derek scoffed, his eyes narrowing to icy slits. "Honorable intentions? From a professional athlete? Forgive me if I find that hard to believe."

The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with unspoken accusations and barely contained hostility. Y/N's hands clenched into fists beneath the table, her nails digging into her palms as she struggled to contain the rage that boiled within her.

She had endured her father's snide comments and thinly veiled insults all evening, biting her tongue and forcing herself to maintain a facade of civility. But as Derek's words dripped with venom, his contempt for Quinn and their relationship laid bare, something inside her snapped.

"Enough!" she shouted, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. "I will not sit here and listen to you disrespect the man I love, the man who has shown me more kindness and support than you ever have!"

Derek's eyes widened in shock, his face reddening with anger. "How dare you speak to me like that, young lady? I am your father, and you will show me the respect I deserve!"

Y/N laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and grating in the tense silence of the room. "Respect? You want to talk about respect? Where was your respect when you belittled my dreams, when you dismissed my accomplishments as nothing more than frivolous whims? Where was your respect when you tried to control every aspect of my life, molding me into your perfect little puppet?"

Dedra gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in a gesture of feigned shock. "Y/N, please, let's not do this here. We have a guest."

Y/N's gaze snapped to her mother, her eyes blazing with a fury that bordered on hatred. "Oh, spare me the theatrics, Mother. You're just as bad as he is, always pushing me to fit into your narrow little world, to be the perfect daughter you can parade around like a goddamn show pony."

Quinn reached for Y/N's hand, his touch gentle and reassuring. "Y/N, baby, it's okay. We don't have to do this."

But Y/N shook her head, her jaw set with determination. "No, Quinn, it's not okay. I'm done letting them dictate my life, done letting them treat me like some kind of possession they can control."

Derek slammed his hand down on the table, the dishes rattling with the force of his anger. "That's enough, Y/N! I will not tolerate this kind of disrespect in my own home. If you insist on continuing this relationship with this... this hockey player, then you can consider yourself cut off. No more trust fund, no more fancy apartment, no more cushy job at the family company. You'll have to live off your precious Quinn's salary and see how far that gets you."

Y/N stared at her father in disbelief, her heart pounding in her chest. She had always known that her parents' love was conditional, that their support came with strings attached. But to hear it laid out so plainly, to know that they would cast her aside so easily, was a blow that left her reeling.

Slowly, she rose from her chair, her legs trembling beneath her. "Fine," she said, her voice low and steely. "Cut me off. Disown me. Do whatever the fuck you want. But know this: I will never, ever forgive you for this. You may be my parents by blood, but you are not my family. Quinn is my family, and I choose him, now and always."

With that, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room, her head held high and her heart shattered into a million pieces. Quinn followed close behind, his hand resting on the small of her back.

they stepped out into the cool night air, Y/N let out a shuddering breath, her entire body shaking with the force of her emotions. Quinn pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she sobbed against his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt.

"I've got you, baby," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing. "I've always got you. No matter what happens, we'll face it together. You and me against the world, remember?"

…

Y/N stood motionless in the bathroom, the white tile floor cold and unyielding beneath her bare feet. The room was a sanctuary of sorts, a place where she could escape the chaotic thoughts that swirled through her mind like a relentless whirlwind.

The pale blue walls, once a source of calm and tranquility, now felt oppressive, as if they were closing in on her, trapping her in a prison of her own making.

The air was thick with the scent of lavender and vanilla, the candles she had lit earlier in a futile attempt to soothe her frayed nerves. But even the familiar, comforting aroma couldn't ease the tension that coiled within her, the knots of anxiety that twisted her stomach and made her heart race with a sickening pace.

Her gaze was drawn to the vanity, its white marble surface cluttered with the detritus of her daily life. Makeup brushes and half-empty bottles of lotion jostled for space with hair ties and stray earrings, a chaotic jumble that mirrored the turmoil within her own mind.

And there, amidst the disorder, sat the small, unassuming box that held the key to her fate, the answer to the question that had haunted her for weeks.

With hands that trembled like leaves in a storm, Y/N reached for the box, her fingers clumsy and uncoordinated as she tore at the plastic wrap. The pregnancy test felt heavy in her palm, a tiny stick of plastic that held the power to change her life forever. She stared at it for a long moment, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to summon the courage to take the next step.

y/n had bought the pregnancy test on a whim, a nagging suspicion in the back of her mind that refused to be silenced. She had always taken pride in her appearance, in the way she maintained her figure through rigorous exercise and a carefully controlled diet. But lately, no matter how much she pushed herself at the gym or how little she ate, the numbers on the scale continued to climb.

She thought back to the dinner with her parents, to the cruel words her mother had hurled at her like poisoned darts. Fat. Lazy. Worthless. The insults had cut deep, leaving invisible scars that ached with every breath. And now, with each passing day, those scars seemed to grow, festering like open wounds that refused to heal.

And then there were the other symptoms, the ones she had tried so hard to ignore. The sudden bouts of tearfulness that overtook her at the most inconvenient moments, leaving her sobbing in the grocery store aisle or curled up on the couch in the middle of the day. The strange cravings that hit her out of nowhere, leaving her ravenous for foods she had never even liked before.

With a deep breath, Y/N tore open the box, her hands shaking as she removed the small, plastic stick from its packaging. She read the instructions carefully, her heart pounding in her chest as she followed the steps, her mind racing with a thousand different scenarios, each more terrifying than the last.

Y/N's mind raced with a thousand different scenarios, each more terrifying than the last. What if she was pregnant? What would Quinn say? Would he be happy, or would he see it as a burden, a trap that would tie him down and ruin his promising career? And what about her own dreams, the hopes and aspirations she had clung to like a lifeline in the face of her family's suffocating expectations?

She felt a sudden wave of nausea wash over her, and she gripped the edge of the vanity for support, her knuckles turning white with the force of her grasp.

The room seemed to spin around her, the walls and floor blurring together in a dizzying kaleidoscope of color and light. She closed her eyes, taking deep, shuddering breaths as she tried to regain her composure.

After what felt like an eternity, Y/N opened her eyes, her gaze falling once more on the pregnancy test that lay on the counter, its display window facing downward. She knew that she couldn't put it off any longer, that she had to face the truth, no matter how painful it might be. With a trembling hand, she reached for the test, her heart pounding in her ears like a drum.

But at the last moment, she faltered, her courage failing her. Instead of looking at the result, she tossed the test into the trash can, burying it beneath a pile of crumpled tissues and discarded cotton balls. She couldn't bear to see the truth, couldn't face the reality of what it might mean for her future.

The sound of the shower called to her then, the steam billowing out from behind the glass doors like a siren's song. Y/N stripped off her clothes mechanically, her mind numb with fear and confusion. As she stepped under the spray, the hot water hit her skin like a thousand tiny needles, the pain a welcome distraction from the chaos that raged within her.

She let the water wash over her, her eyes closed as she tried to lose herself in the sensation. The heat seeped into her bones, melting away the tension that had coiled within her like a snake ready to strike. She breathed in the damp, misty air, the scent of her lavender shampoo mingling with the steam in a heady, intoxicating aroma.

Behind her, the pregnancy test lay abandoned in the trash can, its display window hidden from view. Y/N had thrown it away without even looking at the result, too afraid of what it might reveal. She knew that she would have to face the truth eventually, that she couldn't hide from reality forever.  

in this moment, alone in the bathroom with nothing but the sound of the water and the pounding of her own heart, Y/N allowed herself to be still, to exist in a world where the future was still unwritten, and anything was possible.

She clung to that fleeting sense of peace like a drowning woman clinging to a life raft, knowing that it was all she had left to keep her afloat in the stormy seas of her own mind.

…

Quinn turned the key in the lock, the soft click echoing through the stillness of the house. He pushed the door open, the familiar scent of home washing over him like a comforting balm. The living room was dark, the only light coming from the soft glow of the streetlamps outside the windows.

He set his bag down by the door, the heavy thud of it hitting the floor breaking the silence. His shoes came off next, the laces loosened and the soles kicked off with a careless ease. He padded across the carpet in his socks, his footsteps muffled by the thick, plush fibers.

The house was quiet, almost eerily so. Quinn listened for any sign of Y/N, any hint of her presence, but he was met with only the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of a car passing by on the street outside. He wasn't surprised by the silence, given the late hour of his arrival. Y/N was likely already in bed, lost in the sweet oblivion of sleep.

Quinn made his way down the hallway, his steps heavy with exhaustion. The bathroom door was ajar, the soft glow of the nightlight spilling out into the darkness. He pushed the door open, the hinges creaking softly as he stepped inside.

The first thing he noticed was the damp carpet beneath his feet, the fibers squishing slightly with each step. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head at Y/N's characteristic forgetfulness. She always seemed to leave a trail of water behind her after her showers, a small quirk that he found strangely endearing.

Quinn reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one smooth motion. The cool air of the bathroom hit his bare skin, sending a slight shiver down his spine. He tossed the shirt into the hamper, the fabric landing with a soft thud amidst the pile of dirty clothes.

He turned on the shower, the water sputtering to life and filling the room with a soft, steady hiss. As he waited for the water to heat up, Quinn's gaze drifted around the small space, taking in the familiar surroundings.

The white tile gleamed in the soft light, the grout lines perfectly straight and clean. The mirror above the sink was slightly fogged, the edges blurred with condensation.

And then, out of the corner of his eye, Quinn caught a glint of something shiny, a flash of light that seemed out of place in the muted tones of the bathroom. He furrowed his brow, his curiosity piqued by the strange reflection.

He scanned the room, his eyes searching for the source of the light. And then he saw it, a small, foil-wrapped object nestled in the bottom of the trash can. His heart skipped a beat, a sudden sense of unease washing over him like a cold wave.

Quinn crept closer to the trash can, his steps slow and cautious. He peered down into the empty bin, his eyes widening as he recognized the shape of the object within. It was a pregnancy test, the plastic stick lying stark and white against the dark plastic of the can.

With trembling fingers, Quinn reached into the trash, grasping the test by its hilt. He lifted it out of the can, his heart pounding in his chest as he turned it over, the display window facing upward.

The moment of truth, the answer to the question that had been weighing on his mind ever since he had noticed Y/N's strange behavior over the past few weeks. The late-night tears, the unexplained mood swings, the way she seemed to retreat into herself, lost in a world of her own thoughts and fears.

Quinn stared at the test, his eyes tracing the lines that appeared in the small window. And then, with a sudden, sickening clarity, he saw it. Two lines, bold and unmistakable against the white background.

Positive. Y/N was pregnant.

Quinn felt the world tilt beneath his feet, his mind reeling with the implications of what he had just discovered. He leaned against the sink, his knuckles white as he gripped the cool porcelain. His breath came in short, sharp gasps, his lungs burning with the effort of drawing in air.

…

Tag List <3

@ru-kru, @bunbunbl0gs, @hischierswhore, @alwaysclassyeagle, @shawnshoney, @fearfam69691, @fulla02, @njdkatie, @dancerbailey3. @jamieeboulos, @ceces-obsessions

[star2fishmeg]

in honor of quinn's birthday, waking him up with head would be the best gift he receives, like forget about your actual presents.

it's unusual for you to wake up before him, but today's the perfect day to admire his beautiful sleepy face. no frown between his brows, his long lashes brushing his blushy cheeks from sleep. and you can't help it but slowly run a hand down his his warm exposed chest, smiling when you reach his happy trail. and you love it oh so much you need to bring your hand further down. palming him thru his boxers.

“what are you doing?” he mumbles with that raspy morning voice, shuffling a little. you respond with a soft kiss to his plush lips, “relax birthday boy” and you keep your attention to his half hard cock, finally moving your hand to touch him freely, skin to skin.

and when you lower yourself, slowly kissing down his stomach, his hand cradling your cheek, aching for you to put your mouth where he desperately needs you to be, quinn smirks knowing he’s the luckiest man on earth to have you for all for himself. “don’t tease me baby” he whispers when you start with kitten licks on his tip. and you’re putty in his hands so any of his wishes are your commands.

-☝️ anon

☝️ says happy birthday Quinn! This is so hot, like, so hot. Love when you drop by ☝️

Usually, I don't post writings on Mondays but today is a special occasion👀 Excuse any mistakes in this, it's late and I'll probably notice them in the morning.

There's no better way to wake up on his birthday than having his girlfriend's tongue licking a stripe from his base to his tip, running over his veins that pulse and her thumb smearing the precum in soft, circular motions while his grumbly morning voice reverberates through his chest in little grunts.

"You like that, Q?" you ask, eyelids half-lidded and voice so breathy he thinks an angel is whispering to him. You press your lips to his tip, giving it a kiss as a low whimper begs to escape his mouth, "I can't hear you, baby,"

Heat rushes through his body, sweat threatening to form on his forehead as his stomach flips as his cock twitches in your hand, "Fuck, yes! Please, stop teasing."

"Birthday boy gets what birthday boy wants~" you chime, taking his tip between your lips, his stomach tensing feeling you slowly, torturously lower yourself down on him, tongue swirling around him until laying it flat on the underside of his cock, your feverish moan vibrating against every nerve and electrifies him.

"Shit, shit! Feel so fucking good," he bumbles, groans slipping from his chest, tiredness overridden by raptures when he hit the back of your throat. He opens his eyes fully to a gorgeous sight; you sucking his cock with such ease, watching his length exit then enter your throat as you bob at a satisfying pace, not too fast but not painfully slow, a speed where he can fully embrace the euphoria that makes him dizzy, makes his chest warm, his stomach fluttery and fizzy, build up that puddle of arousal in the pit of his stomach and the very thought of that coil snapping and leaking from your lips has his hand creeping into your hair.

He doesn't grip your roots harsh; he's tangling his fingers gently and guiding you along his cock, whining freely into his bedroom at the early hours of the morning, listening to your carnal moaning - deep and uncontrolled, from your lungs like you mean it - like it's a bird's song. That coil inside him tightens, that sweat trickles down his temple and your head moves faster and he throws his head back the second your fingers fondle his balls. But a giddy, sparkly feeling festers in his chest for what else you have in store after he plans to spill hot cum down your throat.

[spencer0o7]

soft harley quinn x fem reader gf hcs?

I’ve always loved harley quinn so i rlly love this idea 💗 (sorry it took me forever tho)

Harley LOVES hugging you. You’ll often cuddle on the couch together probably watching some movie musical. Harley definitely isn’t afraid of PDA either. She’ll kiss you, hold your hand or hug you in public. She loves you and isn’t afraid to show it.

“Harls everyone’s looking,” You giggle. “Let em look!”

You love doing eachother’s hair. If you have curly/coily hair she’ll learn to do styles on your hair type. You love having matching hairstyles, like both having braids or fun updo’s.

She loves helping you do your makeup (though be aware she likes doing experimental looks). You two often go on night outs, especially to nightclubs to get wasted. You’ll always look out for each other though. Harley will throw hands with any guy being creepy. You’re there if Harley ever gets so drunk she starts fighting the bartender.

Sleeping in bed with Harley is so chaotic. She for some reason cannot sleep without 9 blankets and she can’t share a single one with you. You’ll eventually fall asleep cold and freezing but you’ll wake up with Harley’s legs intertwined with yours and her arms around your waist. She’s a blanket hog but you love her.

Harley never goes grocery shopping with a list. Shopping with her is definitely and experience. Every 5 seconds Harley will pop up in front of you holding some random product and telling you about how she “NEEDS to have this.”

You’ll let her try to convince you about this “amazing” product she can’t live without for a bit till she eventually runs off to find something else to obsess about.

Cooking food together is how you love spending time together. You love cooking and Harley loves cooking with you (you’re always stopping her from putting ‘special ingredients’ in the food). If you ever find some new recipe you want to try, Harley will be right there with you buying the ingredients at a marketplace and following your instructions on what to do next in the kitchen.

“Next pour the stock into the rice,” You say reading from the recipe. “Aye aye chef,” She replied cheerfully. You watch as Harley pours the stock into the pan with the rice. She looks at you with excitement “What’s next?”