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misshoneyimhome · 9 months ago

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Say My Name, Say My Name I Quinn Hughes 🖋️🌺

Requested? Yes / No

Summary; Based on the Tik Tok trend, calling your boyfriend “husband”

Tropes & warnings; established relationship; Tik Tok trend; fluff, marriage proposal; no warnings;

Other notes: For the second story of this TikTok trend, I've challenged myself with writing for Quinn Hughes for the first time 😊 To be honest, I didn't know much about him to fully capture his character, however, this is pretty much how sweet I imagine this boy to be 🤭🤍 Since I had a few different ideas of how to approach the request, this turned out to be nothing but pure fluff 🌺🥂

I hope you enjoy it 🌷🐰

Word count; 1.6K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

As the sun dipped low, casting a gentle glow over the bustling streets of Vancouver, you strolled alongside your boyfriend, Quinn Hughes. The city buzzed with its usual activity, providing a comforting backdrop to your conversation on this typical Thursday evening. And with the promise of a hockey-free weekend on the horizon, a mischievous idea had crept into your mind – sparked by a popular TikTok challenge that had been gaining traction online.

In recent weeks, you'd seen numerous videos of people teasingly calling their boyfriends "husbands," while recording their partners' bewildered reactions for entertainment. And intrigued by the trend, you couldn't resist the urge to try it out with Quinn.

After nearly three years of shared laughter and cherished moments in your relationship, you were confident that Quinn would find the prank amusing, perhaps even earning a reaction with a hint of panic. So, with a playful glint in your eye, you had naturally shared your plan with your closest friend, enlisting her help in pulling off the light-hearted prank.

As you’d proposed the idea, your friend, always up for TikTok trends, had eagerly agreed to assist. You’d decided on arranging a double date, which wouldn’t be out of the ordinary, planning for you to execute the prank while she would discreetly film Quinn's reaction.

So, as you sat in a cosy, almost half-empty restaurant later that Thursday evening, the weight of your impending prank began to settle in. Excitement and nerves mingled in your chest, your fingers tapping restlessly on the tabletop as you waited for the perfect moment to put your plan into action.

And finally, the moment arrived, hanging in the air with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. As the waiter approached to take your orders, a surge of anxious energy coursed through you, your heart racing. Yet, with practiced ease, you smoothly transitioned into the pivotal moment. "And for my husband," you said, injecting a playful tone into your voice, "he'll have a glass of ice water and the pasta Bolognese."

The words hung in the air, a silent challenge to fate, while your best friend discreetly positioned her phone, ready to capture Quinn's genuine reaction.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment as Quinn's gaze shifted towards you, his expression a fleeting mix of surprise and curiosity. "Your what?" he murmured, his voice barely audible, yet you persisted, ignoring the amusement threatening your facade of confidence.

In that suspended moment, Quinn's initial reaction was genuine astonishment, his eyes widening in disbelief before a soft chuckle broke the tension like a gentle wave against the shore.

And as the waiter then walked away following taking all orders, he left behind echoes of laughter. Quinn then leaned closer towards you; his tone laced with mock seriousness. "Husband, huh?" he mused, a playful smirk on his lips. "Guess I'll need to update my resume."

It hadn’t entirely been the shocked reaction you’d hoped for, yet you still found the situation undeniably amusing. Confessing the inspiration behind your jest, laughter filled the air. And as the night wore on, your little act slowly faded in the background.

However, unbeknownst to you, the innocent prank had sparked an idea in Quinn's mind.

Although he hadn’t exactly expected to consider such a significant step already at the age of 24, the notion lingered, intriguing and compelling. As the eldest among his brothers and in his most serious relationship yet, Quinn had pondered the concept for some time. He’d even briefly sought advice from his closest teammates on how to broach the subject, as he’d realised life was too short to wait for the perfect moment.

So, as he sat beside you, enveloped in shared laughter, he felt a newfound determination. With quiet resolve and a heart full of affection, he began laying the groundwork for a significant occasion, one that would hopefully change your relationship for the better.

A little over a week later, with the memory of your playful prank still fresh in his mind, Quinn found himself beyond excited and content about the idea. With determination coursing through him and a ring burning a silent promise in his pocket, he’d devised a plan.

His aim was to catch you off guard, to make the moment as unexpected as possible. And having noticed how you had emphasised the prank was nothing but a joke, he guessed your mind hadn’t dwelled on such matters. Which made it the perfect opportunity.

So, returning to the very same restaurant Saturday evening where the idea had originated, Quinn carefully arranged the setting for the action. Despite the absence of a best friend discreetly recording the scene, the familiar ambiance of the restaurant's softly lit interior and the intimate corner table added a serene touch to the occasion. So with a steady hand and a heart brimming with love, Quinn recreated the scene.

As the waiter approached to take your orders, he took a deep breath, and with a voice filled with emotion, he echoed your words from days prior, "And for my wife, she'll have a glass of Champagne along with some water and the cheese, spinach ravioli, please."

Your eyes widened a little in slight disbelief as the words lingered in the air, blending with the gentle buzz of conversation around you, and a chuckle escaped your lips of amusement at Quinn's unexpected play. You simply couldn’t help but laugh at the joke and how he replicated your playful tease from the other night with such precision.

“Wife, huh?” You chuckled lightly. “Guess I deserved that one - though I do enjoy the sound of it.”

However, this time, it wasn't a prank. As the waiter departed, leaving behind a soft smile, your eyes met with Quinn’s, flashing him an entertained smile. Yet there was a seriousness in your boyfriend’s expression, a rare sight outside of the intensity of a hockey match, and a curious furrow creased your brow as you couldn’t decipher his thoughts. But before you could ask him what was on his mind, Quinn gently rose from his seat, moving with deliberate grace to stand next to you.

“I’m glad you say that ‘cause…”

You shifted in your seat to face him, the air crackled with anticipation as he then slowly dropped to one knee, the world around you fading into insignificance, leaving only the man you loved, poised before you with a vulnerability that stole your breath away.

Your heart pounded in your chest as Quinn gently took out the little velvet box from his pocket, his brown eyes shining with an intensity that mirrored his deep emotions.

“Y/n," he softly began. "I know you said it as a joke the other night, but... truth be told, it stuck with me. And I realised that… I do want to be your called husband. You mean everything to me. Without you, I'd be lost – even though I don't tell you enough, you make my every day brighter. I can't even begin to thank you enough for your endless support, for putting up with me and my career every single day. You never ask for anything, and yet you give so much love. I love you so so much, and I just can't imagine a future without you in it..."

With every heartfelt confession, your breath hitched in your throat, your mind swirling with the weight of his sentiments. Emotions surged within you, threatening to overflow as Quinn exposed his soul, sharing his fears and dreams for your future together.

And then came the question, hanging in the air like a fragile promise—a question that held the power to shape your lives forever.

"Y/n, will you marry me?"

It felt surreal, like a dream woven from the threads of your deepest desires and fondest hopes. Quinn on his knee before you, his vulnerability a testament to the depth of his love. And in that moment, tears glistening in your eyes, and a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, there was only one right answer.

Though struggling to find the words, you willed your lips to move and your throat to vocalise the response.

"Yes... Quinn, of course," you replied with excitement, the sound of soft applauses rippling through the restaurant. And with a deep relieved sigh, and a satisfied smile illuminating his face, Quinn rose from his kneeling position, meeting you in a deep, heartfelt kiss.

Sealing the engagement your lips met with nothing but devotion, the world around you slowly dissolving, before breaking apart. Quinn's excitement was nothing short of palpable, his smile radiant as he carefully slipped the ring onto your finger, and he couldn’t deny that this felt better than any hockey match win. Perhaps besides winning the Stanley Cup.

It was truly a beautiful ring. The diamond's shimmer mirrored the twinkle in his eyes as you admired the ring's delicate intricacies. And with a content smile, you shared another quick kiss before Quinn returned to his seat, and the waiter poured champagne to mark the occasion.

Raising your glasses in a toast, you again sealed the engagement with a clink, the bubbles dancing against your lips like promises of a future filled with love and joy. This moment was everything you had ever dreamed of. Though it had begun with a playful joke, it perfectly captured the essence of your relationship—full of laughter, love, and shared moments of joy.

And with your hands gently intertwined on the table, both admiring the new addition to your finger, you couldn't help but chuckle. "Looks like I really do need to update my resume," you playfully remarked, echoing Quinn's words from the other night.

And in response, your fiancé merely chuckled, his eyes brimming with adoration as he kissed your hand and held your gaze with unwavering affection. "Yes, I suppose you’ll have to," he smiled, his voice filled with promise and a love that knew no bounds.

#quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #vancouver canucks imagine #nhl imagine

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ab4eva · 8 months ago

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‘The Three of Us: Brat Behavior’

Fully co-authored with: my love @therealslimshakespeare

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

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

Word count: 6.3k

The Three of Us - part 1

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

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

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

“Bro code is dead it seems.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We gotta get out of these layers.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three Years Ago

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Three of Us: ‘Tis The Damn Season (part 3)

The Three of Us: Masterlist

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

#austin butler #callum turner #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler smut #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #callum turner fanfiction #callum turner smut #callum turner fic #callum turner imagine #the three of us #marina does it again #written by ab4eva

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shiftingwithjaidyn · 7 months ago

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🎞️ ⋮ writer/fame dr

★┊ BASICS .ᐟ

timeline:

this dr takes place around late august of 2022 due to the fact i intend to be part of one of the films i work on right from its beginning

locations:

los angeles, california (main)

vancouver, canada

new york, new york

san antonio, texas

london, england

notes:

i scripted out a lot of things that occur in this reality (due to the fact i scripted the timeline of everything somewhat similar)

some movies in my filmography are book adaptations that do not exist in this reality however exist in mine and most tv-shows in my filmography are cancelled shows in this reality so i decided to make them continued in my dr (just incase of some confusion hehe)

★┊ ABOUT ME .ᐟ

name: lilian maricel villaécija

nicknames: lily, lia, celia, mary/mari

gender & pronouns: demigirl || she/they

birthday: august 11th, 1980

height: 5’6”/167 cm

zodiac sign: leo

mbti: enfp

nationality & ethnicity: american || filipino-chinese

occupations:

screenwriter

script supervisor

production designer

director of photography

make-up artist

storyboard artist

aesthetic:

★┊ CAREER .ᐟ

movies:

center stage (2000)

in the mood for love (2000)

uptown girls (2003)

eternal sunshine of a spotless mind (2004)

pride & prejudice (2005)

the devil wears prada (2006)

black swan (2010)

if i stay (2014)

la la land (2016)

lady bird (2017)

the glass castle (2017)

to the bone (2017)

the greatest showman (2017)

oceans 8 (2018)

crazy rich asians (2018)

always be my maybe (2019)

little women (2019)

all the bright places (2020)

pieces of a woman (2020)

last night in soho (2021)

everything everywhere all at once (2022)

one last stop (2023) [film adaptation of the book by casey mcquinston]

tv shows:

grey's anatomy (s2-s13) || 2005-2016)

rupaul's drag race (s5-s14 || 2013-2022)

rupaul's drag race: all stars (s2-s5 || 2016-2020)

anne with an e (s1- || 2017-present/ongoing)

the marvelous mrs. maisel (s1-s5 || 2017-2023)

pose (s1-s3 || 2018-2021)

instinct (s1-s3) (2018-2023)

the umbrella academy (s1-s4 || 2019-2024)

the haunting of bly manor (s1 || 2020)

bridgerton (s1- || 2020-present/ongoing)

yellowjackets (s2- || 2023-present/ongoing)

★┊ RELATIONSHIPS .ᐟ

╰┈➤ FRIENDS

(i have a lot of friends due to the fact i've been in the industry for quite a while now, but these are just my closest)

trixie mattel

shea couleé

katya zamolodchikova

kate walsh

emmy raver-lampman

sandra oh

nicola coughlan

gemma chan

simone kessell

a huge special mention as well to @ixzotica a.k.a. aaliyah sinclair in my dr!! the one and only best friend, neighbor, sister, and platonic soulmate of mine in every single universe <3

╰┈➤ PET

name: mari-pusa (Mariposa)

nicknames: mari, choco butternut,

gender & pronouns: female || she/her

birthday: january 15

zodiac sign: capricorn

mbti: istj

breed: tortoiseshell

╰┈➤ S/O

gonna keep him a redacted for now as i am not yet comfortable sharing much about my dr but i just wanted to let u guys know he's an actor, he's a libra, and that he exists HSHJSHDSHKJHL

★┊ EXTRAS .ᐟ

links:

patter banner || gradient divider || star divider || heart divider

note:

feel free to ask me about this dr or any shifting related thing in general!! i'd really appreciate it! : ]

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wintfleur · 2 months ago

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₊˚ෆ ⋆.˚ 𖧧　.˚ ⋅ ᰋ ── MY FAMILY LINE !

aka rosa’s relationship with her brothers

━━━ ❛ i will be your brother and I’ll hold your hand

𖧧　.˚ ⋅ GENERAL INFO !

their group chat name: the REAL housewives of michigan 🍻

the groupchat is used almost every single day, they always try to check in on each other. rosa likes just sending random pictures and updates about her day

the boys ask for a picture of ollie (cole and rosa’s kitty) almost everyday, wanting to see their niece.

they like to have at least one sibling trip a year and it's mostly rosa who is planning it

family game nights are their favorite thing ever, they are all so competitive with each other so sometimes it gets a little heated but its all lighthearted

sibling sleepovers and camping trips is a must

the boys are always arguing about whos jersey rosa should wear to their games

they have so many inside jokes

the boys all created private twitter accounts just for her (and most of their friends did as well)

𖧧　.˚ ⋅ QUINN HUGHES !

their contact names:

quinn’s for rosa: quinny 🦕

rosa’s for quinn: rosie 🌷

when quinn found out that he was going to have a little sister he genuinely was so happy, he had been asking for a little sister.

she gets the most sibling privilege between jack and luke, she's his favorite

quinn helped teach her how to drive

rosa gave quinn one of her stuffed animals to take with him to vancouver so he could hug it wherever he misses her

rosa texts him every day!

quinn helped rosa find the perfect apartment for her

quinn bought her a car and she cried for an hour straight

he's honestly so proud of rosa and is always praising her and talking about her.

they were always the siblings that fell asleep on road trips, using each other as pillows

quinn buys his mom and rosa flowers every valentine's day

quinn has a lot of rosa’s things in his apartment

rosa would visit quinn all the time when she was filming for yellowjackets in vancouver, she stayed with him a lot when she wasn't with her cast mates

rosa really looks up to quinn and she often goes to him for advice

rosa cried at his draft

it took rosa awhile to get used to quinn not living with her anymore

quinn is always the first one out of her brothers to read her scripts

𖧧　.˚ ⋅ JACK HUGHES !

their contact names:

jack’s for rosa: d1 brat 🦖

rosa’s for jack: smarty pants 👧🏻

jack and rosa not only grew up as siblings but also as best friends

jack is very protective of rosa, and he never treated her differently because she's a girl, he would often get upset at his friends in school that didn't want her to join them playing because she's a girl, he was always there to defend her and tell them that she's better than them anyway, so he'd rather play with her.

jack was always chasing away the boys from her

out of all the siblings they definitely get into the most arguments, they are so alike that they just clash sometimes. They are always quick to forgive each other, but it was always those two

they couldn't sit next to each other during car rides as kids because they always ended up fighting

jack always made her help him with his homework

jack loves to tease rosa, but he really is so proud of her

jack made rosa promise to him that she would never fall for one of his best friends

rosa honestly hated when her ‘friends’ told her that they had a crush on jack, because most of them only wanted to be friends with her to get to jack

jack loves just randomly showing up at her apartment for a visit

jack is very dotting, and acts much older than her then he is (affectionately)

these two are very mischievous together, they got in trouble the most (jack usually dragging her into it)

they are often mistook as twins, always being told how similar they are

jack always tries to get rosa to introduce him to her female castmates

he hated when she was away to film as kids, he would not be like himself for a little while

has gotten in a few fight in hockey because some players can’t keep rosa’s name out of their mouths

rosa had her first taste of alcohol with jack

𖧧　.˚ ⋅ LUKE HUGHES !

their contact names:

luke’s for rosa: stink 🧃

rosa’s for luke: ro 🩷

rosa is not much older than luke, but she always claims that he’s her little baby brother

while jack and quinn always team up together, it's always rosa and luke as teammates

luke would always complain about his friends always having a crush on her

rosa was always there to help him with his homework

rosa is the first person luke goes to when he's upset or needs someone to talk to

luke can do no wrong is rosa’s eyes, even if she witnesses him do something wrong, she will always be on his side

luke would miss rosa the most whenever she went away for acting

rosa’s nickname for luke is stink

they always sit next to each other during movies because they always share snacks and luke doesn't complain when rosa wants to cuddle.

luke is very protective of his big sister, he's always there to defend her

whenever luke would get scared he would always sneak into rosa’s room to stay with her, and she would always try to distract him from whatever was scaring him so he could peacefully fall asleep

luke always get so flustered and proud when anyone comes up to him because they know hes rosa’s brother

rosa loves spoiling him and praising him to no end (thats her baby)

they are also mistook as twins a lot

luke picked up on a lot of rosa’s quirks & habits

rosa is his favorite and vice versa

luke called Rosa to come to New Jersey to help him decorate his and jack’s apartment because jacks decorating is ‘terrible and never deserves to see the light of day’

threatens to steal her kitten almost everyday

roro’s note. okay guys you were right — the reason why I love making hughes oc’s is because I love writing their dynamic with the boys 😭 please let me know which relationship you like the most!! I personally love rosa and luke the most 🫶🏻 this is an interactive AU so send in as many thoughts as you want!!

au m.list

˖ ་ taglist : @lesrflms @winterbarnesblog @toasttt11 @cixrosie @iceflwers

©️WINTFLEUR do not copy / use / steal my layout or ideas

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sweetteainthesummerx · 8 months ago

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THE LOVE LASTS SO LONG (4)

In which Ollie and Aubrey's interaction is captured online

series masterlist

notes: hey y'all! this is super slow burn but I promise its worth it :) Leave a comment ( I go feral for those) and ask to be added on the tag list if u please

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

f1_09gossips posted

clip one: An iPhone camera captures a slightly grainy video of Aubrey Yang, wearing a newly given Ferrari cap, greeting Charles Leclerc and Alexandra Saint Mleux after the Monaco Grand Prix. She shakes his hand and gives her a hug in greeting. The three converse in rapid French, laughing once in a while. Ollie Bearman walks by mid-conversation, and Charles grabs his arm. The tall boy turns and sees Audrey, cheeks flushing visibly. Her back is now turned to the camera, but she waves and he smiles at her. The paddock is crowded and loud, but the camera shakily zooms in on the group. She shakes his hand, and he bends down to ask her something, speaking into her ear. She smiles and nods and he looks to his manager for something. His manager hands him his phone and he takes a selfie with her. He lifts his arm and she slides under it as he hands the phone to Charles. They both hold up peace signs, arms wrapped around the other. She offers him a hug as his manager calls him to leave to an interview. He returns it eagerly, bending down a little to hug her properly. Her hands loop under his arms to pat at his back gently, and his are wrapped around her waist. When they break, he says something again and waves as he leaves. Alexandra and Charles watch on with thoughtful looks on their faces.

clip two: Aubrey Yang, walking hand in hand with Lily Muni He as the two navigate through the paddock.

f1_09gossips Aubrey Yang seen in the paddocks yesterday!

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dudududumvp GUYS I SAW THEM and let me tell u ollie was fangirling

-- user1 hello???

-- dudududumvp yeah he was blushing and everything it was so cute

aubreyyang posted

aubreyyang Was an absolute privilege to film in my home city. WE LOVE YOU VANCOUVER 🇨🇦

White Jade Tiger is a project that is so close to my heart. As a second generation immigrant, this book meant so much to me as a child. Now, getting to play Jasmine and bring her story as well as thousands of others to life is an honour. Oh, and a Dallas pic to feed your soul :)

WHITE JADE TIGER OUT JANUARY 2025

tagged: whitejadetigermovie, dallas_liu

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, olliebearman and 670,332 others

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dallas_liu 🔥🔥🔥

user1 oh i didn't know she was canadian

-- aubreyyang born and bred, baby!

-- aubygfan1 OMG ILYSM

charlesleclerc felicitations!

-- aubreyyang merci! j'espère de vous voir (et Alex) à la première

-- f1wagsfvr damn everyones flocking to her insta she must be so lovely

-- dior.n.goodjohn trust me she is

-- user2 dior what r u doing here 😭

macecoronel congrats!

this comment was removed

WESTERN ASIA MEDIA PRESENTS

Dallas Liu and Aubrey Yang for White Jade Tiger

Western Asia Media Interviewer: Welcome, you guys!

Dallas Liu: Thanks for having us, man.

Aubrey Yang: It's so good to see you!

WAMI: It really is. Last time we saw you both, you were working on Crazy Rich Asians and Shang Chi respectively.

DL: laughs and shakes his head. Woah, that was actually so long ago.

AY: Don't, I feel old.

WASMI: Okay, so before we get started, we have a couple of personal questions... Aubrey, we didn't know you spoke French!

AY: Oh, that. I grew up speaking Canadian French at school, because it's mandatory in Canada. But actually, I've met some really good friends lately who are Monégasque, so my accent has been leaning towards there.

WASMI: Are these friends by any chance very famous motorsports racers?

AY: Yeah, Charles and Alex. They're both super cool.

WASMI: Onto you, Dallas...

f1wags posted

f1wags Ferrari rookie Ollie Bearman and model girlfriend, have allegedly broken up, according to sources.

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user1 NO WAY

bearmanheart MY CHANCE BRO

user2 aww they were cute

user3 rip

olliebearman posted

olliebearman Monaco you never disappoint 🇲🇨 ❤️

liked by charlesleclerc, aubreyyang and 78,972 others

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user1 i think him and Estelle actually did break up she hasnt been at any of the races for like weeks

-- user2 do uk why

-- user3 prob because shes so much older

charlesleclerc what are you doing partying 🤨

-- olliebearman sorry dad 😔

aubrie_yangfan WAIT IS THE BREAK UP CONFIRMED my Aubrey ollie pipeline might come tru

-- username5 ur actually delusional 😭

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

Taglist: @callsignwidow

#f1 drivers #f1 smau #f1 x reader #formula 1 #ollie bearman #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman x you #mutual pining #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fluff #ollie bearman x female reader #ollie bearman fluff

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evanchantingpeters · 7 months ago

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How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 5)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff, Romance

Summary ─ While filming Tron, Y/N follows Evan up in Canada, eager to surprise him for his birthday. But what starts as a joyous occasion quickly turns into a heated argument. But you know what they say about fireworks: they explode, and boy, do these two ignite into frustration and passion. Will their clash lead to a blazing reunion, or will it all go up in smoke? Hazard a guess😏

Warnings ─ Swearing, oral (both receiving), food porn, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, bondage, BDSM, mild daddy kink, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, birthday sex, missionary, nutty smutty— based on public demand ;)

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 | Read Part 4

Word count ─ 3.8K

18+ This is ADULT content. I’m not your mummy to supervise your net access. If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

20 January, 2024, Vancouver

Your tears blur your vision as you stand in the kitchen of the Airbnb, the temporary shelter you share with Evan. The cold glow of your phone screen illuminates the screenshot of Adria’s last hurtful texts, sent just before she blocked you earlier this month.

You haven’t spoken since, and the silence gnaws at your heart, tearing at the fabric of a friendship you once believed was unbreakable. She was the kind of friend you didn’t need a social battery for, the one you always dreamed of growing old together.

Your mind involuntarily does a wild backflip, taking you back to when all the drama with her first unfolded, and your throat starts to close up as your bottom lip trembles, threatening to bring another full-blown sob fest.

*flashback alert*

You and Evan were lounging on your bed, both in your undergarments, basking in the lazy aftermath of the Emmy Awards bash a day later.

Tabloids were ablaze with afterparty pics, splashing your face as the ‘enigmatic woman’ next to Evan Peters. Headlines screamed speculation and gossip rags were practically hyperventilating, going into detective mode to uncover your identity. Whispers and rumours spread like wildfire through the gossip mill, making you feel you were under a microscope.

Whenever you’d feel the sting of public scrutiny, even on your social media accounts, Evan would nonchalantly wrap an arm around you and remind you with a reassuring smile, “Let them guess, baby. Let them spin their stories. They’re just bored, no life. We know the truth, and that’s all that counts. Don’t let them rent space in your head.”

Evan was now deep into his phone, navigating the maze of paperwork needed to smuggle you into Canada without an American passport. His fingers moved absently, tracing soothing patterns on your back.

“Baby, maybe we should go for a visitor visa or an eTA... Electronic...Travel Authorization, or whatever the hell that is. It’s the quickest way to get you in,” he muttered more to himself than to you, his brows furrowed in concentration as he scrolled further.

But you just laid sprawled out beside him, limbs tangled on him in a delicious mess, your breasts spilling over his chest. You were barely listening to all things bureaucracy over the addictive scent of his skin and his rhythmic heartbeat, aligning with the rise and fall of his breathing.

You not using a single brain cell when with your man...

You admired the perfect curve of his side profile, the little mole on the tip of his nose that always made you smile. Your fingers grazed over the ridges of his toned abs, a silent appreciation for the masterpiece he was as your mind replayed the epic dick he served you up the night before.

Your clitoris was practically combusted after that, but your period, dear Aunt Flo, decided to pay a surprise visit earlier than expected. Of course she would...

And that’s when your own phone exploded into a frenzy with Adria’s messages. If the media uproar felt invasive, hers cut deep, and it was super personal.

“Tha fuck,” you cried out, hurling yourself off the bed. You frantically unlocked the phone to read the full conversation, the venomous words on the screen hitting you like a sledgehammer. “Listen to this,” you shouted, your voice shaking with fury as you read her brutal attack aloud for Evan to bear witness, each word dripping with malice.

Evan watched, perched on the edge of the bed, his eyes widening with every syllable. His face paled as he took in the vitriol of phrases like, “pathetic boyfriend’s lil junk,” “shove it up your ass,” “he’s using you,” “useless gold digger,” “you’re dead to me, bitch”.

You exploded, launching into a tirade about Adria’s betrayal. “She’s showing her true colours now, isn’t she? ‘Friend, my ass!’ What a snake!” your voice broke with the intensity of your anger and hurt.

Evan moved to your side, throwing a black tank top on, his expression a mix of hopelessness and sympathy. He was stunned, his eyes brimming with concern for you. You felt the weight of his worry, but also the unconditional support in his gaze. You collapsed into his waiting arms, snuggling your head up in his lap. His delicate hand was soothingly running through your hair as you sobbed hard and fast, each tear absorbed by his fingertips like it was nothing as you let it all out.

“Yea, baby, what she said was messed up, no doubt,” he murmured looking down to meet your eyes as you turned over to face him. “But sometimes people lash out when they’re projecting or hurting. You had every right to keep it private for as long as you wanted, but maybe she felt left out 'cause you were keeping this big chunk of your life from her. Doesn’t excuse her going full nuclear, but it might explain where she’s coming from.”

Your chest heaves with another wave of tears, gripping onto his leg for dear life.

“Shh.. it’s gonna be alright, my love,” Evan whispered, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “Look, you’re in pain from her harshness, and that’s valid. But if there’s even a slim chance of salvaging the friendship, it might be worth a shot to talk it out. Doesn’t mean you gotta forgive and forget right away, but at least give her a chance to explain... If she doubles down on the crazy, then yeah, maybe it’s time to move on.”

*flashback ends*

The oven timer jolts you back to the present moment, snapping you out of your memories. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you pull out the Pyrex dish with dinner and strike a match, igniting the candles on Evan’s cake. You know he doesn’t fancy extravagant night outs for his birthday, so you’ve planned a cosy burrito night in for him.

With a quick glance at your phone, you see his response, “I’m a few blocks away, undress yourself” to your earlier string of messages,

miss your loads

**miss you loads

well, both I guess

His reply buys you just enough minutes to set up the surprise.

Yes, the moment you touched down in Vancouver, Evan had to rush off to set. Yes, even on his birthday.

As you hustle to put the final touches in the dining area, you check the candles to be sure they’re all lit. The warm glow casts a romantic ambience, shadows dancing on the walls, amplifying the anticipation.

Suddenly, the familiar jingle of keys in the lock from the hallway sends your heart racing, your pulse pounding with enthusiasm and nerves.

“Happy birthdaaaay!” you exclaim, arms thrown in the air, as he saunters in with a charming wide grin, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you buzzing around the room.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he teases, his voice rich and satin as he takes in the scene. His hungry gaze lingers on you a little too long, and it sends electric pulses of desire across your core.

“Just making sure your birthday is as hot as you are,” you quip, your tone sticky with innuendo as you lock eyes with a sultry smirk.

He chuckles, cheeks flushing, as he paces closer to you with a crooked smile and a glint in his eye. His smirk expands as he corners you against the table. “Oh, is that so?” he hums seductively, yanking you tightly onto his chest, his hands tracing fiery paths over your body.

You nod, shooting him a mischievous smile as you pass him a small bag with your present. He gasps in excitement as he tears the wrapping apart to unveil a bulky watch, similar to his old one. “It fits like a glove,” he cries out, quickly fastening it on his wrist only to swing you around right after, his joy infectious as he holds you close.

“Thanks a bunch, my baby. That’s a top-tier surprise, especially now that I don’t have my family around,” he mumbles, and you notice as his eyes glisten with unshed tears. “I truly love you, Y/N.”

Your heart swells as you drown into his misty eyes. “I love you too, Evan. It’s not much, but I couldn’t just shrug your birthday away without making it special. You like it?”

“Like it? I adore it, Y/N. You have no idea how much this means to me and how you bring the best out of me,” he sighs against your ear, sending tremors down your spine.

Before you can respond, his hands slip under your dress. Tugging at your strapless bra and pinching softly at your nipples, his tongue slowly twirls with yours, making your pussy leap and leak for him. Aching for his touch, you moan into his mouth, your body melting into a slime in his grasp.

Breaking the kiss, Evan’s breath burns against your breasts like a firestorm of passion as he murmurs huskily, “Why isn’t my birthday wish fulfilled yet?”

With a devilish grin, you meet his gaze, your lips a mere breath away from his. “I’m your genie for the night, sir. You ask, I shall deliver,” you purr, your hand teasing the stiffness that strains his slacks, feeling his need for you pulsating beneath your touch.

“You, on this table covered in cake.”

Your hands rub harder on his erection, drawing soft groans from him as you nibble on his neck. “Consider your wish granted,” you whisper, your voice a silken promise as you push him back slightly. Clutching his jaw, you guide his head toward the table, your touch both commanding and tender. “But don’t you want to have a bite and tell me about your day first?”

He puckers his lips, narrowing his eyes in mock contemplation, before a wicked smile spreads across his face. “Yea, I suppose I should think with my top head for a bit. Let’s enjoy this delicious dinner you’ve made, and after that, baby, I promise, I’m gonna take my time licking every inch of you clean,” he coos, and strides over his cake.

As he leans in to blow out the candles, you stand next to him, clapping, cheering, and chanting the old-age birthday song, your phone capturing every moment for your mutual private collection. The room is bathed with the warm glow of candlelight and the sweet odour of dessert.

As the last wisp of smoke from the extinguished candles curls upwards, he turns to you with a playful smile, and that’s only a prelude to the real feast that awaits you both.

Evan’s re-enactment of Jared Leto’s and his own over-the-top method acting antics has you in stitches as you wrap up your meal. “Alright, alright,” he says, attempting to mimic his character’s intense gaze and dramatic voice.

He picks up a small dish, holding it aloft like it’s the most important object in the world. “This…is no ordinary plate. It’s our shield against the vice forces of the universe.”

You can’t help but snort, staring at him incredulously, “What has this shield gone through?” you inquire, unable to contain your amusement.

Evan grins, clearly pleased with himself, but stays in character. “No, no, Y/N, you don’t understand. This dish…I mean this shield has seen things. It has felt the scorching heat of the oven—like hell itself—and the icy chill of the fridge—colder than the North Pole. It’s been through a transformation!”

His priceless facial expressions send you into another fit of laughter, doubling over and clutching your sides. “Evan, stop! I can’t—” you gasp between fits of giggles. “You’re killing me!”

With exaggerated precision, he places the dish aside and grabs a glass, his face deadly serious. “And this glass,” he exclaims, holding it up like a sacred relic, “has held the nectar of the gods.”

Your laughter reverberates across the room as you lean against the table for support. “You guys are insane!” you choke out, still laughing.

He breaks character for a moment, his own hearty laughter bubbling up. “You think Leto goes this hard at home?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“I bet he does!” you reply, chuckling. “His poor dishes must be so confused.”

You dab your lips with a napkin, flashing a seductive smile to Evan as you stand up, the fabric of your flowy dress grazing against your skin in all the right places. You start gathering the crockery, the clinking of plates echoing in the room.

He takes a leisurely sip of his wine, eyes gleaming with mischief as he watches you intently. “Mmm, what do you think you’re doing there, miss?” he hums, waving his glass towards the dishes.

“I’m tackling the post-dinner cleanup before we open a cockroach motel in here,” you quip, balancing two plates on your forearm, the curve of your hip accentuated by the movement.

He raises his head with a hint of suspicion, his tongue lightly brushing against the sides of his teeth. With a smooth, predatory gait, he glides closer to you, his presence commanding and magnetic. His arm snakes around your waist until your bodies press extremely close together, as if he wants to meld into you.

He starts planting soft kisses on your neck, the warmth of his breath seeping into you and quickening your pulse. “That’s on me, baby girl. You cook, I wash—fair play.” His voice is a lush whisper tinged with playful allure, the undercurrent of raw ecstasy between you is in flames.

You look over your shoulder and move to the side, trying to slide away. “No, it’s your birthday, and I should spoil you,” you insist.

But Evan’s embrace only tightens, his crooked smile inviting trouble. Without warning, he whirls you around, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you breathless. The tempting aroma of alcohol and raspberries lingers on his breath, turning you on.

“What about my cake?” he murmurs against your lips, his hands massaging your ass before pressing against your throbbing sex. A choked moan escapes your lips, your need for him palpable.

With insatiable urgency, he strips you off your dress and deepens the kiss, leaving you only with your matching lingerie, a tantalising veil barely concealing your arousal.

He lifts you effortlessly, placing you atop the table with a low growl. Your breath catches as you feel the cool surface below you, contrasting sharply with the heat of his touch. He slides your panties down your thighs with a bitten lip, your tongues intertwining in a sensual dance.

Eager to feel more of him, you hastily fumble along the buttons of his shirt, your fingers trembling in anticipation. He stares at you with darkened eyes and a smirk, primal desire burning in his gaze, as he helps you rid him of the fabric separating you.

He kisses and love bites his way down your upper half, leaving a trail of fire in his wake, until he reaches your pulsing cunt.

As he grunts against your slippery folds, and you cover your mouth to stifle a scream, your surroundings seem to distort. It’s as if you’ve just dove into deep water, and his voice becomes muffled and distant, like you’ve submerged beneath the surface of a vast sea. Adria’s words echo through your mind, “he’s using you cause he’s stuck with his ex! Wake up!!”

Panic seizes you, and you push him away mid-action, your breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts as you leap off the table. “Let’s have the cake now, Evan. I’ll bring spoons,” you retort hastily, your words spilling out in a frantic rush, your heart hammering against your ribcage like a wild drumbeat.

“I don’t mean eating it the conventional way…” he says, his chuckle mixed with traces of confusion.

As you hurriedly scramble to get into your dress and underwear, you move towards the kitchen with a racing heart, his voice ringing in your ears.

He rushes forward to block your path, gently grabbing your arm. “Is everything okay, Y/N? Why’re you avoiding me?” he questions, his brows furrowing in a blend of surprise and intrigue.

Your stomach always twists into knots whenever he addresses you by your government name instead of his endearing variations of “baby.”

Your breath hitches as you pause, tension and uncertainty weaving through the atmosphere like a dense fog, obscuring your conscience. His rosy lips turn into a thin, anxious line as his eyes search yours for answers.

“I’m not, Evan,” you manage, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart, your cheeks warming under his penetrating gaze. “I just…nah, forget about it. I don’t want to ruin your special day,” you mutter, your words rushed and disjointed, a feeble attempt to brush off your inner turmoil with a forced hug and kiss.

But he won’t let you escape so easily. He gently pulls you back, cupping your face in between his thumb and index finger. “What is it, baby? You can speak to me,” he urges, his tone soft but insistent. His eyes flicker around your face, concern etched into every line of his handsome face.

You lower your head and roll your lips into your mouth as tears are on the verge to spill. “I want there to be more to us than just sex,” you finally muster the courage to verbalise, your voice shaky.

His eyebrows shoot up, lips parting in disbelief. “But there is,” he fires back, his forehead creasing with lines of protest. “In fact, I’ve never felt a healthy and substantial connection like this before. It’s deeper than anything I’ve experienced,” he defends, his voice laced with desperate sincerity, his eyes imploring for you to understand.

He reaches out to pull you into his arms, his touch soft and comforting, but you step back, shaking your head in subtle denial.

He sighs in exasperation, his patience already fraying. “Honestly, what’s going on, Y/N?” he presses, his tone firmer.

You narrow your eyes at him, our tongue poking at your cheek, as your voice crescendos. “You wanna know what’s going on, Evan? You’re using me to get over your ex, that’s what’s going on,” you blurt out, arms folded across your chest. The words just tumble from your lips before you can stop them, charged by the doubt that’s been itching you.

His face contorts in shock, eyes widening, and his mouth hanging open in stunned silence. “What? Where did this come from?”

“It’s just something Adria threw at me,” you explain, compulsively rubbing your forehead, “she’s been in my head, making me doubt everything all over again.”

Evan’s eyes harden at the mention Adria, a glimmer of anger flashing across his features, but his touch remains delicate. “What did she say?” he asks, his tone rigid, but he’s clearly battling to keep his cool.

“It was her message the day we were at mine after the Emmy party,” you confess, croaking with the weight of your revelation. “She thinks you’re with me because you’re still hung up on your ex, and I’m your rebound.”

Evan’s expression darkens, a storm brewing behind his eyes as he’s reminded of these infamous texts. He pulls away slightly, a coldness suddenly creeping into his demeanour. “Thought we’re over this, Y/N. You know she’s just annoyed, hurt, or envious...dunno...that you didn’t say a word about our relationship, and she’s just trying to poison us.”

“How do I know that’s true?” you snap, frustration boiling over and your voice quivering with intensity as you confront him.

His jaw tightens, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. “You should trust me,” he persists, his voice strained with emotion. “I’ve done all I could to show you I’m committed to us. Why do you keep letting her get to you?”

“Because it’s not just her, Evan!” you cry out, your voice cracking. “It’s the internet, and sometimes, I feel it too. Like maybe you’re not over your ex, and I’m just a placeholder here to fill a void,” you admit, tears flooding down your face, your chest heaving.

“Y/N...don’t cry, please,” he whispers, his voice momentarily gentle yet tinged with worry. “That’s ridiculous!,” he continues calmer than before. “We all carry our personal baggage, but I’m with you because I want to be. If you can’t see or feel that, then what are we even doing?”

You take a step back, your own anger rising, your chest tighter than before. Your stare turns into a furious glare, your heart rate soaring. “I just needed to hear you say it, okay? you retort. “I needed to know that I’m not crazy for having these doubts.”

Evan runs a hand through his hair, frustration plastered into every tense muscle of his body. “I’ve told you a million times, Y/N. I love you. I’m here for you. If you can’t see or feel that, then maybe we need to rethink this. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

His words stay the air like a heavy cloud, suffocating the room with their weight. The silence that follows is deafening, amplifying the ache inside you.

He shakes his head, his voice low and bitter now. “Whatever,” he spits out, his footsteps stomping against the floorboards as he storms out of the room, leaving you standing there, heart thumping and more tears streaming down your face.

You lie on the couch, staring blankly at the TV droning on in a meaningless chatter as you absentmindedly flick through channels. The sound of the shower running in the background serves as a grim reminder of Evan, who, you bet, is still fuming even through closed doors.

Why tonight, of all nights, damn it all?? It’s his birthday, and it’s meant for joy and celebration, not this mess of baseless accusations and lame tears. You curse yourself for allowing Adria’s betrayal-infused ill-intent to infiltrate your mind, killing Evan’s love and dedication with your insecurities and silly suspicion.

The fight plays back in your mind like a horror movie on repeat, each word exchanged like a dagger to your heart. You recall Evan’s wounded face, the disbelief in his eyes...they haunt you all like ghosts in the night.

Your heart bleeds with regret as you realise the magnitude of your mistake, wishing you could just rewind and take your words back. The TV blares on, but the images just blur into a haze as you stay trapped in a loop of guilt and self-loathing.

The shower shuts off, and your heart skips a beat. You hear Evan moving around in the bathroom, the sound of the towel rack clinking, the soft thud of him stepping out. You squeeze the remote tighter, flipping through channels faster, trying to find something—anything—that could distract you from the impending confrontation.

Shortly after, he enters the living room, and you can’t help but drool over his on-my-knees-daddy-you’re-a-snack grey comfort shorts and white tank top, his hair damp and his expression weary. He glances at the TV, but says nothing.

The silence stretches, thick and constricting, and you feel you’re stuck in an endless, narrow cylindrical corridor that leads to nowhere.

“Evan...” you dare, your voice wavering like a candle flame in a strong breeze, but it feels like screaming in a dream.

He freezes, his back to you, shoulders stiffen as if bracing for impact. “What is it, Y/N?” His voice slices through the silence like a knife, sharp and guarded, a far cry from its usual warm and mellow timbre.

“I’m sorry,” the words spill from your lips, heavy with remorse, as you sit up on the couch. “My bad for bringing this up on your special day��very selfish of me, and I shouldn’t have let Adria’s words shake me like that.”

Evan turns slowly, his eyes piercing into yours as he flops onto the sofa next to you with a heavy sigh. “Then, why did you? Why allow her to destroy what we have?”

You take a shuddering breath, trying to alleviate the storm raging within you. “I don’t know… Maybe because, deep down, I’m terrified. Terrified that this is fleeting and all too good to be true. Terrified that I’m not enough for you.”

With a tentative move, he redirects his eyes towards you, the harsh lines of his expression softening just a fraction. “You’re more than enough, Y/N. But you have to trust and believe me. Why can’t you do that?” he asks, his voice regaining its soothing texture, akin to sweetened nectar.

“I’m trying,” you huff out before letting out a dramatic sigh, feigning a pout as your fingers caress along his stomach, getting lower along the edges of his firm abdomen. You admire the rugged strength of his arms, even in moments like this.

Well...damn, sir!

He squares his jaw, attempting to maintain his resolve (resulting in abject failure). “Try harder, Y/N because I need you in my life,” he mutters, his voice faltering slightly as you lean forward to trail kisses over his neck. Tough Evan is really like giving Bambi a gun.

It’s officially reckless business o’ clock.

You sense the tension in his body easing, his reservations crumbling beneath your touch. With a mischievous spark in your eye, you close the gap between you, mere inches separating your lips. “But you know what I should do?”

He quirks his eyebrow, intrigued by the sudden shift in your attitude, but he instantly drops his head back, pretending to be unbothered. “I don’t care. I’m still pissed at you…but tell me, even though I don’t care,” he retorts, facing forward, but his need to know is crystal clear in his face.

You shoot him a playful grin as your fingers trace tantalising patterns along his bulge, feeling his hardness twitching under the fabric. “I should make it up to you,” you declare, an enchanting lilt to your voice, as you slowly undo the strings of his shorts.

A shudder courses through Evan’s body, jeopardising his composure. The intoxicating scent of your arousal and the softness of your touch prove too much for him to bear. “I’ve give you your own Kinder surprise,” you whisper seductively, your hand slipping underneath his shorts.

He fights to hide his growing erection, his breath comes in uneven gasps as he adjusts his shorts. “And what’s your grand plan?” he sighs, his voice husky with desire. His eyes are dark with anticipation while his resistance disintegrates with each passing second.

You sink between his legs, making him harder with every graceful sway of your hips. “Oh, I have a few ideas,” you chirp, pulling your hair up in a ponytail in an agonisingly slow pace.

You catch a glimpse of the outline of his cock protruding beneath his boxers (caught in 8k ultra HD), the fabric adorned with a tell-tale wet spot. Needless to say, he’s far more excited than he’s letting on. “Come on, baby Evan. Don’t play dumb with me.”

Your mouth waters with anticipatory thrill, your wet centre throbbing with need. Your senses intensify, thighs instinctively clenching as you await him to shove down his shorts.

Evan swallows nervously, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. In a swift, “fuck it” motion, he loops down the waistband of his boxers until his cock springs free, standing proudly in the air. Your gaze, once fixated on the crop of dark pubic hair gracing the base, now observes the veiny pathways that run along his thick length, leading to the swollen tip—flushed red and leaking with eagerness.

Your eyes, brimming with excitement, dart back and forth between his face and his erection, gauging his reaction as you test the boundaries. Encouraged by his desperate nod, you come closer, your lips ghosting the underside of his shaft, your warm breath teasing his sensitive skin, coaxing it to jerk in response.

“Crap, Y/N…I should be mad at you, but you’re too good at this…” he breathes out, already roused by the sight of your plush lips caressing the heat exuding from his cock, sending a wave of warmth sweeping over him. His legs part further, an unspoken invitation for you to draw nearer.

You giggle before taking the plunge, slowly skidding your lips along the sensitive underside of his dick. A soft, almost inaudible groan escapes his lips, and it’s the go-ahead you need to continue. From top to bottom, you pepper his throbbing length with tender, soothing kisses.

His hand immediately reaches for your hair, his fingers finding solace in the roots to distract himself from finishing too fast. Lowering your head, you tilt it to the side, your tongue marking a stripe against his sensitive balls. Eagerly, you press your face forward, your lips latching onto one of them, suckling on it with a gentle yet persistent rhythm, each release eliciting a small pop.

“Mmff!— fuck..” Evan’s jaw goes slack, a deep groan rolling off his tongue the moment your mouth makes contact, his resistance melting away under the spell of your touch.

Your kisses skim from the base and drift all the way up to the tip of his cock, tongue salty with precum as it deftly strokes the ridges. His body quivers, responding with an urgent jolt of his hips. It’s a wordless plea for you to finally take his cock into the warm and wet comfort of your mouth.

“Stop torturing me, for the love of...I’m gonna explode,” he groans, grasping on a pillow as if it’s his last lifeline, and you can feel the urgency in his veins popping out. Ignoring his imploring, you press your lips right onto the swollen head, treating it to small kitten licks on his sensitive slit.

“You’re so goddamn gorgeous...” he grunts, teetering on the edge of a whimper. His hips buck forward once more, ramming his tip deeper into your mouth. The evidence of your arousal is just as indisputable as his, your panties most definitely sodden from the act of using your mouth on Evan alone, cunt convulsing from his lewd noises with each stroke. His raw groans, the praises that spill from his mouth, and the way your name dances off his tongue like silk makes the fiery bundle of elation simmer in your belly.

His cock delves deeper into your throat as his hips undulated to the flow of his ragged panting. He can see the glistening of tears stinging your eyes, your whines muffled out around him. His tip bullies the back of your throat with each jerky thrust until it’s sore, pushing so deep that your nose buries itself in the tufts of baby hair on his pelvis.

His lips, now parted and glistening, ooze vulnerability, while his doe eyes shimmer with a feverish glimmer. Everything about him in this moment is mesmerising, leaving you no choice but to be spellbound. The rippling tremors jolting through Evan’s frame indicate he’s nearing his climax, fire pooling low in his abdomen, ready to burst.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he rubs the bridge of his nose in an attempt to quell the tightly coiled spring in his stomach, yearning for release. His balls tighten, cock pulsing as his thrusts into your mouth turn sloppy. “Y/N, I’m gonna cum,” he growls, a strand of your saliva trailing from his tip as he withdraws.

“Fill my mouth up, baby boy,” you plead, looking up at him with hungry eyes, your mouth open and primed for his treat.

With a wicked smile, you bite your lip before he softly slaps his dick against your tongue. Then, with one final forceful pump as he holds your head close, ripples of cum colour your mouth white. Trapped in his strong grip, you gulp down his bitter torrent, suppressing the urge to gag as your tongue battles with the arousing assault.

“Fuck, you’re such a naughty slut, aren’t you?” he groans, chuckling, as you’re still on your knees, gingerly wiping away the saliva and residue from the corners of your mouth with his top. With ease, he picks you up and crashes his lips onto yours with unforeseen fervour.

“Your naughty slut,” you correct, raising your index finger like a twin exclamation mark. As you roughen the kiss, you squirm against his hand as he rubs your clit, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through you.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he whispers, his fingers sliding up and down your soaked slit, eliciting bated moans from you. “You’ve got a wish to fulfil.”

“Do what you want with me, Mr Peters,” you coo, suckling on his bottom lip. Wrapping your loose hair around his wrist, he pulls your head back to lavish your neck with soft nibbles, his teeth grazing your skin, making you gasp.

With a swift motion, he bends you over the arm of the couch, your breath catching in your throat as he takes his time gracing your ass cheeks with red marks from his playful smacks. “You’re gonna give me everything tonight,” he growls, his voice thick with lust. His hand slips under your dripping pussy, yanking down your panties as his fingers tease your entrance.

You push back against him, craving more, as his free hand grips your hips, holding you in place. “Please, Evan,” you whimper, your voice trembling with need.

He chuckles darkly, his breath hot against your ear. “Begging already? I like it,” he murmurs, his fingers finally plunging into you, making you cry out in pleasure. He pumps them in and out, his thumb circling your clit, driving you to the edge.

“Fuck,” you moan, your body quivering as he continues to work you, his fingers curling inside you, hitting just that perfect spot.

“Why move so much, baby girl? Want me to punish you?” he snaps, his words almost entirely drowned out by your loud mewling.

Before you know it, he pulls back slightly. He stands up, reaching for a drawer nearby and pulling out a length of silk rope. “I’m gonna tie you up and make you scream my name until you can’t take it anymore,” he mutters, his voice sending shivers of anticipation through you.

Your breath catches in your throat as he binds your wrists together, the silk smooth against your skin, both restraining and arousing. He secures the rope behind your back as you’re standing on all fours at the centre of the couch, ensuring you’re immobile and completely at his mercy.

He grips your hair and lines his erect cock at your entrance, deliberately rubbing his tip on your slit so that your cum trickles down your thighs. Sucking in a breath, he slaps your butt with a force that makes you squeal in sheer horniness.

“Evan, fuck me,” you cry out, staring over your shoulder with pleading eyes.

“We’re not done yet, baby,” he asserts, his voice dripping with promise. His hands roam your body, exploring every inch as if he’s memorising you, his touch both tender and demanding.

“Damn, you look so beautiful like this,” he huffs out, his voice filled with reverence as he takes in the sight of you bound and vulnerable before him. He trails kisses down your body, his lips worshipping your skin as he moves lower, his hands spreading your thighs apart.

“I wanna taste you,” he growls, his mouth descending on your pussy, his tongue flicking and teasing your clit from an angle you’ve never tried before, driving you wild with need.

“Something’s missing,” he breathes out, and dips his fingers in his cake by the coffee table. He scoops a bit of icing and stretches your weeping cunt, smearing it along your inner thighs and folds. His eyes gleam with mischievous delight as he licks and nibbles his way through the sweet confection and onto your sensitive skin, making you squirm and scream with pleasure.

You moan loudly, the pleasure overwhelming as he literally devours you, his tongue and lips delving and sucking you to the brink of madness. “Evan, please,” you spill out in desperation, your voice coming out in punchy, shaky sobs.

He chuckles darkly against you, the vibrations sending waves of ecstasy through your body. “Cum for me again, baby girl,” he commands, his voice a sinister growl as he continues his onslaught, his fingers joining his relentless mouth to push you over the edge once more.

You scream his name, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. Your walls clench around his mouth and fingers, your vision going white as you’re consumed by pleasure. Evan doesn’t stop, his mouth and fingers driving you higher and higher, leaving you a quivering, breathless mess.

Before you can even catch your breath, he flips you over so you lie on your side, your legs folded, head resting on the other arm of the couch. His eyes are dark with passion as he places himself on top of your thigh, and you lick the sweet remnants of cake from his mouth in despair, tasting yourself along the way.

Your breath tickles his ear as he reaches for the cake, scraping up a generous blob of icing with his finger. Bringing it to your lips, he watches intently as you lick it from his finger, your tongue swirling around his digit, eliciting a guttural groan of need from deep within him.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll forget your own name,” he promises, his voice a seductive whisper as he thrusts into you, filling you completely, your lips locked, his eyes fixed on you.

You arch into him, still bound, mewling in delight as he slams into you, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. “Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, your mind going blank as you lose yourself in the sensation, your world narrowing down to the feel of him inside you, driving you to the edge again and again.

Finally, he releases you from the silk binds, his eyes filled with satisfaction as he pulls you into his arms. “We’re not through yet,” he murmurs, his voice filled with a promise of more.

He gently shifts you into missionary position, his eyes meeting yours with an intense, burning desire. He enters you slowly, savouring every inch, his movements deliberate and controlled as he begins to jam in you, each motion sending tides of ecstasy through your body.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, the connection between you smouldering, each thrust bringing your high closer. “Evan, please, I need you,” you whine, your voice a desperate plea for release.

“Mine,” he growls, his movements becoming more erratic as he nears his own release. “You’re mine, Y/N.”

“Yours,” you agree, your voice a breathless moan as you feel another orgasm building, the intensity almost too much to bear.

With one final powerful thrust, he sends you spiralling into your climax, his own release following along, your bodies entwined as he collapses on top of you, both of you spent and satisfied. He kisses you softly, his lips lingering on yours as you both catch your breath, the intensity of the moment leaving you both breathless and craving more.

“Happy birthday to me,” you murmurs, a contented smirk gracing his lips as you both revel in the afterglow of post-coital bliss, trapped in a tight, loving embrace.

“I should piss you off more often if you’re gonna dick me down like this,” you joke, and your mutual giggles fill the room.

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Taglist: sillysillygyal, junkie4weezer, frankiesweird, divinerulerz, nickrhodeslittledarling

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petew21-blog · 4 months ago

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We are the Flash

Grant Gustin was you idol from the moment you first saw him on Flash, but even before that on Glee. Oh yeah, he's really hot, I understand why you want to swap bodies with him. Ok, ready? Here we go?

Why are you yelling at me? You have his body. You didn't say you wanted to be at his place. I got you his body. He has yours. What's the problem? You just didn't change the location as well.

Oh? You don't have any clothes that would fit you? Ok, I can find something, hold on for a while

I can see you have already made yourself at home in there. Already shaved and flexing. Looking at yourself in the mirror. Hope you like what you now own. But based on that thing pointing at me, I think you're not that disappointed.

Yeah, you got such a nice body now. I am jealous. Maybe I'll swap with Stephen Amell just to get some action with you.

And by the way. You are suppose to be in Vancouver in 9 hours to start filming your last seaosn of the Flash. You should get to the airport.

Oh? Really? I think I can enjoy one hot steamy shower if it's gonna be with you, GRANT!

Inbox request:

Could you have me swap bodies with grant gustin. I just love his body

#body swap #body switch #male body swap #celebrity body swap #short body swap story #short story body swap

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raincitygirl76 · 20 days ago

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Becky Aspen is a little black girl for a specific reason, I think

So, @ghost-husbands and I are doing a rewatch of Dead Boy Detectives, one episode per weekend, and I rewatched Ep 1 (The Case of Crystal Palace) this morning.

I think they cast a black child as Becky to show the parallels with Crystal, an older black girl who is also missing. Crystal even draws an explicit parallel between her (so far unknown) parents and Mr and Mrs Aspen when she's talking to Charles. She talks about seeing into their minds and seeing their anguish and fear over their missing daughter Becky, and Crystal fears her own parents are similarly tortured over her (Crystal's) disappearance. And of course, as we find out in Ep 8, Crystal's parents have been so preoccupied with their work they haven't even noticed she's been missing for weeks.

We also see the Aspen house on 2 different occasions (once when Charles and Edwin dress up as police officers to question the Aspens, and at the end of the episode when Crystal and the boys return Becky home). It's a very modest little bungalow, while the Surname von Hoverkrafts are loaded, so they presumably live in some splendour in London. We only get a brief flashback glimpse of the interior of Crystal's parents' home, but it looks big and fancy. Becky has loving parents in a modest house, Crystal has neglectful parents living in style. She'd probably prefer to be Becky.

Also, DBDA was shot on location in Langley, BC, Canada, an exurb of Vancouver, where I live. The actors playing Becky and her parents would've been locals. THese parts aren't big enough for them to cast in LA and fly the actors up to Canada for filming. Vancouver does not have a very big black population. There are black people here, and black actors, but not tons. It would've probably been a bit simpler for the local casting director to cast 3 local white actors as Becky and her parents. Instead they cast 3 black actors. I think Becky was meant to be a black child because Kassius Nelson (who plays Crystal) is black.

Becky was victimized by Esther Finch, and Crystal was victimized by David the Demon. As a result both girls are powerless and trapped. The difference between them is that when Becky gets rescued by Crystal and the boys, she has a loving family to reunite with. Crystal will be even more alone once she regains her memories than she is when she's a terrified amnesiac with no last name.

#queue #dead boy detectives #Crystal palace #crystal palace analysis #David the demon #Becky aspen

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hischierswhore · 4 months ago

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FOR THE BETTER | chapter 2

✰ warnings: mentions of alcohol, drunk jack hughes

✰ nat’s note: i’m back once again! thank u all for the love you have showed chapter 1, it’s truly appreciated.

✰ additional note: there are 2 insta posts that align with this chapter! click on the masterlist link below to view them 🤍

✰ masterlist

february 24th

“Sing that verse again” Julian said. He was one of the producers on your upcoming album, and you were currently recording the first single.

“Break my heart & I swear I’m movin on, with your, favorite athlete!” You sang, trying to sound as melodic as possible.

“Perfect!” Julian said as he removed his headphones and headed into the booth to go over some things with you. Jack, Luke & Quinn were all sitting on the couch nearby, watching you record the song.

When you stepped back into the room with the boys, you wanted to know their thoughts.

“Sooo do you guys like it?” You asked, afraid of what your brothers would say.

“I really like the chorus. Super vibey, you know?” Luke got up and started dancing a little before Quinn yanked him back down.

“It’s got a good message. So far it’s my favorite” Jack said, to which you replied “It’s the only song I’ve recorded, Jack”

“Okay well it’s insanely good, Y/n/n. We’re very proud of you” Quinn smiled from his seat.

“Thanks guys. Also don’t feel like you’re being held hostage in here. Feel free to go out and do your own thing. I’ll be fine” You gave the boys a light grin and each their own hug as they decided to head to the rink to get some practice in.

Later on that evening, after spending the entire day at the studio planning out concepts for a music video, you went back to the apartment you shared with your brothers. Quinn was leaving in the morning, as he had to go back to Vancouver.

Yes, the breakup sucked and you wished you hadn’t gone through it at all, but you were doing a lot better than you thought you’d be. Spending most of your free-time writing new songs or recording melodies that pop into your head at random points throughout the day.

Your brothers were always concerned for you, seeing as this was your first true heartbreak, but you were handling it better than they thought. You seemed happier, which your brothers all missed because you were always so full of energy.

Just as you were writing in your room, someone had knocked on your door, presumably Jack letting you know that dinner was ready. You placed your journal down and made your way to open the door. Jack stood there, admiring the doorframe as he waited for you.

“First, dinner’s almost ready. Secondly, there’s a gala next month that all the players must attend. They said we could each bring a plus one, and I know you haven’t really been out in a while since you’ve been writing so if you want to come with me & Luke, you’re more than welcome to” Jack smiled at you, truly hoping you’d say yes because he hated seeing you locked up in your room and avoiding social interaction.

You’d lived in New Jersey for a while now, but you never made the effort to meet your brothers’ teammates. It would be a nice change of scenery.

“Why not, sounds nice” You smiled as you accepted Jack’s invitation.

“As long as it’s not within the next week because I’ll be filming the new music video”

“No no it’s not. I think it’s like the 16th or something”

“Okay great. I’ll free my schedule”

march 16th

After much assistance from your stylist, you decided to wear a black sheer Givenchy dress. It adorned your features perfectly, and you felt like the most stunning woman in the world.

Due to your brothers being actual players on the team, they were required to walk the red carpet. You were just behind them, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. Afterall, it was your first time meeting the team so naturally you wanted to set a good first impression. You took some solo pictures and made your way into the venue.

As you followed your brothers so they could introduce you to everyone, one man in particular caught your eye from across the room. He had a white dress shirt on, his suit jacket discarded somewhere in the room. He made eye contact with you over his glass of wine before directing his attention back to the man infront of him.

Your mind stayed on the mystery man all night, eyes scanning the room every now and then in hopes of making eye contact once more but unfortunately, he’d disappeared from your line of sight. Turning your attention back to Luke and his teammate Dawson, trying to actually make friends with a few of these guys.

Just when you were about to head to the restroom, you felt an arm sling around your shoulders. You turned to find Jack, who appeared to be a tad bit drunk, with 2 men following right behind him.

“Y/n, this is Jesper & Nico. Nico & Jesper, this is Y/n” Your brother slurred. Jesper reached out and you shook his hand. Jesper was extremely sweet and easy to talk to. When you looked over at the other name, your heart dropped. It was the man you’d made eye contact with earlier.

“Pleasure to meet you” He said, his voice nearly making you fall to your knees. The damn accent literally made you weak in the knees for a moment. You were lost in his eyes for a moment, taking in all his features before being pulled back into reality.

You noticed his hand was out, just as Jesper’s was, for you to shake. Your face flushed bright pink the moment your hands made contact. You looked to the ground in attempt to hide your blush at the simple action. You smiled at the man before excusing yourself, desperately needing to go the the restroom to get yourself together.

The second you were behind closed doors, you braced yourself on the sink, holding onto it for support. This felt completely different from what you’d felt in the past. You had butterflies in the pit of your stomach from the second you walked in.

This couldn’t be happening, at least not now. You’d spent the past month and a half putting up walls, making it extremely difficult for you to trust anyone, and Nico waltzes into your life and makes them crumble within seconds.

You didn’t want a relationship right now, but Nico made that extremely difficult. All with just a single look.

taglist: @lovelynikol16 @dancerbailey3 @ashloveshockey

#✎ natalie writes #jack hughes fluff #luke hughes fluff #quinn hughes fluff #nico hischier fluff #hughes!reader #hughes!sister

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scottlava · 10 months ago

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GREAT GREAT SHOWDOWNS HUNT: Day 8 (part 4)

UPDATE: It has been found!! Thank you, everyone!!

LAST HUNT OF THE SHOW! Thank you so much, everyone! And expect an extra credit hunt in the coming weeks. 👌

Vancouver, CAN

These two teenager’s are having a baby, but it was not exactly a planned deal. They struggled coming to terms with this entire affair while going to school and running track. What school were these two attending?

What is happening: I will post some little paintings of characters from popular film scenes from March 9th through 16th. These paintings shall be placed into envelopes and hidden somewhere at the locations in which these scenes were filmed. This could happen in your town!

The first person to find these paintings shall keep them as a gift from me! I only ask that you post a picture of the found painting in your possession, so I can congratulate you in front of the world. Post it on twitter or instagram or email me. LET THE HUNT COMMENCE!

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wildrangers · 1 year ago

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Oh Captain, My Captain // Quinn Hughes

Word Count: 3.8K

Summary: Quinn's captaincy finally pushed me to write this story, which I've been thinking about forever but never actually nailed down. I just love neighbor stories. Hope y'all enjoy!

Warnings: resolved angst (shocking, I know), mention of cheating (not Quinn), cursing

You knew that trying to get everything into your apartment in one-go was a bad idea. Now, you were struggling with your suitcases, backpack, and couple of boxes while fighting with your front door key. You blew out a breath, grateful for the coolness of the Vancouver air coming through the hallway windows.

“Can I give you a hand?” you heard a tentative voice ask from down the hall. You glanced over to see a dark-haired boy watching with a worried face.

“I don’t want to trouble you, I’ll figure it out” you responded, embarrassment flooding your system at how ridiculous you must look.

“You’re not bothering me, I offered” he replied making his way to your side. “Now, can I please take this box before you drop it?”

You chuckled at his comment, nodding your assent, “Thanks, I really appreciate it. I’m Y/N, by the way” you said, finally unlocking your front door.

“Quinn. Where do you want me to put this?”

You quickly led him inside, pointing down the hall to your bedroom. He set it down and returned to grab another box. “It’s really okay, I’ve got it from here.”

He paused in the doorway and scanned your frame, taking in what you assumed to be your now tangled hair, smeared makeup, and exhaustion, before shaking his head and grabbing a box. “I would worry about this all night, where does this one go?”

You sighed, finally accepting he wouldn’t be leaving until everything was in your new apartment, “Ummm that one’s the kitchen, I think.”

He nodded and you two fell into easy silence as the rest of your belongings made their way to their assigned rooms. By the end of it, you were annoyed to see that Quinn hadn’t broken a sweat while you felt like a drowned rat.

“How did you even manage to get all this into the elevator?” he asked, gratefully accepting the glass of water you offered him.

“I may have tipped the Uber driver 20 bucks to help me load it up” you admitted and he shook his head laughing quietly. “What?! I made the move alone and didn’t want to leave anything outside.”

“Fair enough. Where are you from?”

“Most recently LA but I figured if I’m up here half the time anyway, may as well try it out fulltime” you shrugged.

“You work in TV?” he questioned. Vancouver was known for having countless shows filming throughout the area at any given time, so it wasn’t a stretch he’d guessed your occupation correctly.

“Yup, I work as a script supervisor. I’m assuming you work in entertainment too?”

He nodded, gulping down the rest of his water before setting the glass back on your counter. “I’ll leave you to it, I’m two doors down on the left if you need anything.”

“Would you want to come over for dinner sometime soon? I want to thank you for helping me.”

“No thanks necessary, seriously.”

You shot him a look like the one he’d given you earlier which made him laugh and raise his hands in surrender, “Dinner sounds great.”

***

“Entertainment my ass” you mumbled to yourself angrily staring at your television screen. You were in-between shoots and were home more often than usual, leading you to mindlessly flip through channels for background noise before tidying up your place.

Lo and behold, there was Quinn, giving a press conference about how overjoyed he was about becoming the new captain of the Vancouver Canucks. Quinn, who you’d been led to believe worked in the entertainment industry like you did. And while sports were technically part of the entertainment industry, he’d gone out of his way over the last year to ensure you didn’t realize the truth for some reason. Because, once the shock had processed, a quick Google search had provided more information than your friend ever had about his occupation.

You paused trying to process what you were feeling. On one hand, the joy and pride on his face was undeniable and you were happy for him. However, him seemingly misleading you for this long hurt. You sighed in frustration, glancing down at your phone to check the time, as you were expecting Quinn to come over later. As you contemplated what you’d say to him, your mind drifted to different moments you’d shared over the last year.

***

“I can’t believe you unpacked this quickly” Quinn commented, looking around your living room as you finished up in the kitchen.

“I sent my furniture ahead of me and packed minimally” you shrugged. “Most of my stuff is in storage in LA—once I’ve been here awhile, I’ll decide if I want to move everything here or head back.”

“What would make you go back?” he questioned, settling into a seat at the island.

“Mainly my boyfriend, Aaron” you sighed, thinking of your last conversation before your flight.

“He didn’t want to move with you?”

You shrugged, debating how much to share with someone who was basically a stranger. “We weren’t living together in LA so I thought it’d be a bad idea to move in together in an entirely new country where I wasn’t sure I wanted to be long-term anyway.”

He nodded thoughtfully as you set down the food, “This looks amazing, it’s been a while since I’ve had a home-cooked meal.”

“Not much of a cook or just the long hours?”

“Bit of both” he admitted before you both dug into the meal. Conversation flowed easily between you but, more importantly, the silences in-between felt comfortable. You’d always hated when people filled silences with meaningless fluff so you appreciated that he didn’t try to force conversation where it had naturally lulled.

“Can I be honest with you?” you asked, drying the dishes Quinn had insisted on washing.

“I’d prefer it” he replied, turning to face you, noting the change in your tone.

“I’m worried Aaron and I aren’t going to last” you sighed thoughtfully. “He’d wanted to come with me and everything in me just screamed no at the suggestion. He said he understood but I don’t know how truthful he was.”

“Have you thought about why your gut said no?”

You reflected on his question as you put away the last of the silverware. “I don’t think he’s an overly forthright person. I don’t think he’s a compulsive liar or anything and I haven’t caught him doing anything, but you know when you just have that feeling someone’s hiding something? I have that all the time with him.”

“I’m sorry, that’s a shit way to feel in a relationship” he frowned slightly and you nodded your agreement. “Want to get some ice cream? That usually helps me when I’m trying to ignore my problems.”

***

Since then, dinner and ice cream had become your tradition. Because of your schedules, dinner may be at 11PM but it was refreshing to have a friend where that wasn’t an issue—hell, it was preferred by him sometimes. During that time, you’d fostered what you thought was a close friendship. But now, as you nervously waited for your doorbell to ring, you were desperately trying to figure out how you’d missed this piece of knowledge about him.

You hadn’t cared how he consistently changed the topic whenever you asked about his work. You’d just assumed he didn’t want to think about it off the clock and stopped inquiring. You had never paused to think he was hiding something. You were pulled from your thoughts by Quinn’s knock at the door. You took a deep breath before getting up to answer it.

“Y/N, hey! How was your day?”

“Uneventful, how about yours?” you asked, willing him to tell you the truth.

“Good, good” he replied, fidgeting with his hands. “Did you still want to hang tonight?”

You realized you hadn’t let him in the door, instead blocking his way with your frame when you normally dragged him in with a hug.

“I guess that’s up to you, captain” you replied, holding his gaze. The color left his face as he processed your words and took in your stony expression.

“Y/N, I…” he began but couldn’t finish. You nodded to yourself.

“I can assume today is a big day for you so I’m not going to get into just how upset I am. But really, Q? Misleading me? After seeing how much it hurt when Aaron did that to me?”

Guilt crossed his face, “I’m sorry, I just…”

You paused waiting for him to finish a thought but only silence met you. “Good night, Quinn.”

***

Quinn was still in shock moments after you’d gently closed the door in his face. If he was being honest, he deserved much worse. He ran his hands through his hair as he shuffled back to his place. Shit. He hadn’t even thought about how your split from Aaron would make his omissions even worse.

It had happened a couple months after you’d moved in. He’d been waiting for you to grab him on your way out the door for ice cream but your agreed upon time came and went. He’d worriedly made his way to your door after you failed to answer multiple texts and calls.

His stomach dropped when your puffy eyes greeted him. “Oh shit, Quinny, I’m sorry.”

Before he could tell you not to worry about it, more tears fell from your eyes. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asked, gently guiding you backwards into your apartment so he could close the door for privacy.

“Aaron and I broke up” you mumbled through your tears and he pulled you into a hug. He rubbed what he hoped were soothing circles on your back as your sniffles filled the room. It killed him to feel your shoulders shaking against his chest.

“Shhh, I’ve got you” he murmured a few times before you quieted against him. He moved a strand of hair out of your eyes when you pulled away from him. “What happened?”

“Well, I guess he resented that I didn’t want him to move here with me. And instead of just telling me that, he decided to start sleeping with someone else. The someone else he’d apparently already slept with fairly early on in our relationship before calling it off with her.”

“Holy shit, Y/N” he sighed, pulling you to him again. “I’m so sorry, what an asshole.”

“No, I should have noticed how much the move upset him or just let him come with me, I mean—”

“Don’t you dare” he said sternly. “You are not responsible for him being dishonest with you. And you were right to follow your gut and do this on your own—imagine learning he’d cheated on you while living together here? Or never finding out? Jesus Christ.”

A long silence filled the space as you processed what he said. “You’re right, this just sucks.”

“Would your favorite ice cream help?”

“I don’t feel up to going out right now, Q.”

“Let me get it for you. It’s nearly December in Vancouver, I think the cone will be okay for a few blocks” he pointed out and was relieved when it earned him a laugh and a nod. “You hang tight and I’ll be back soon.”

***

While you knew Quinn’s lies weren’t close to Aaron’s, it was pouring salt on the wound in a way that made you wildly upset. When Aaron had betrayed you, Quinn had been there to remind you with his presence and support that not all guys were like Aaron. That there were good men left and you shouldn’t settle for some asshole.

But for Quinn to have been hiding something this whole time? It hurt double—once for his deceit and twice for ripping open the Aaron scar. You’d spent most of last night moping but this morning when you awoke, that sadness had blessedly shifted into anger. Who the hell did he think he was? Had he seriously introduced you to his friends while they all knew you were being lied to? They must have known or else someone would have slipped up. And also, what the fuck? What a stupid thing to be lie about.

You were deep in one of these rage spirals when a knock rang out through your apartment. You threw the door open to see a nervous Quinn.

“Can I come in?”

Your only response was to open the door and make your way to the couch. A few seconds later, Quinn was seated across from you, seemingly willing you speak first with his eyes. But you’d be damned if you filled this silence, even if the discomfort between you stung.

“Y/N, I am so sorry.” You met his eyes and could see his sincerity but it wasn’t enough.

“Why would you purposefully mislead me about something so inconsequential?”

“Inconsequential? This is not unimportant.”

“Why would I give a fuck about you playing hockey? I literally work with famous people all the time and couldn’t give a shit!”

“It wasn’t that I thought you’d care, it was that I’d finally met someone in this city who didn’t know who I was before even meeting me.”

“What do you mean?”

He looked at you incredulously. “I know you’re not Canadian but you seriously never noticed how hockey obsessed this city is? How there’s Canucks shit everywhere?”

“I mean, I guess I never really thought about it and I still don’t understand why that’s a good reason to lie to me for the last year.”

“I’m not saying it was a good reason, I know I fucked up, okay?” his voice grew louder which made you raise an eyebrow at him. “Look, if you never want to talk to me again, I get it, okay? But please, just ask Petey or Brock what it’s like meeting people in this city so you can understand where I’m coming from.”

You scoffed, “You really think a good way to apologize and ‘make me understand’ is to remind me how all the mutual friends I met through you knew the entire time and just went along with it? That’s so fucking embarrassing! Everyone in on the joke but me.”

“This is not a joke, Y/N! God, all I wanted to do yesterday was share that moment with you. To have you in the crowd or at least be able to celebrate with you when I got home. And I know it’s my fault I couldn’t do that but fuck, it still sucked. And I didn’t know how to fix it. How do you say to someone ‘Hey I told what I thought was a white lie a year ago but I ended up falling in love with you along the way and now I don’t know how to own up to it?’”

His words hung heavy in the air but you had no idea how to respond. You had never allowed yourself to fully acknowledge that ever since New Year’s, your relationship had slowly been shifting from platonic to something more—because you hadn’t wanted to lose him. Now, you were losing him just as you were realizing he felt the same way. You shook your head before resting your face in your hands.

“Please say something” he begged softly.

“Q, I don’t know what to say. I can acknowledge in the grand scheme of life not being honest about what you do for a living isn’t earth shattering. But developing a relationship with someone over the course of a year, thinking you can trust that person because you know them inside and out, only to learn they were purposefully hiding something from you? Something that would have made absolutely no difference to you anyway? I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“Then tell me how to fix it.”

“Yesterday morning, I would have trusted you with my life. Now, I can’t listen to a word you say without thinking you’re lying. How do I know you’re being sincere about wishing you’d shared yesterday with me? About your feelings for me? You’re making me second guess everything when you were the one who helped me keep going after Aaron’s dishonesty.”

“I am not like Aaron.”

“No, Quinn, you’re not. Which is why this feels worse. Can you please just leave? I need time to process everything.”

You were grateful when he obliged and shut the door quietly behind him but it also broke your heart a little to watch him leave so easily.

***

Your mind kept returning to Quinn’s New Year’s Eve party. You’d been single for a little over a month by then and were slowly starting to feel back to normal. While you enjoyed your time alone together, you were eager to meet Quinn’s friends and know more people in your new city. Petey loved movies so you two had been deep in conversation, really debate, about various films throughout the night. Brock had brought his dogs and you eagerly shared photos and stories of your family dogs back home with him. You hadn’t noticed that every time you asked someone how they knew Quinn, they replied with ‘work’ before quickly moving the conversation along.

What you had noticed was Quinn’s eyes on you all night. His hand on your lower back when he checked in on you throughout the party. How he had stocked up on your favorite snacks and drinks for the occasion. How as midnight approached, he moved closer and closer to you.

Until, as you all screamed the countdown from 10 to the New Year, he’d slipped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. How his dark blue eyes shone in the TV screen light when he turned to face you as the ball dropped. How he had grinned at you with such joy as he leaned down and placed the most delicate kiss to your cheek before whispering, “Happy New Year, Y/N, thanks for ringing it in with me.”

And you certainly had noticed the butterflies in your stomach at the thoughtful gesture, the sincerity of his words, and the intensity of his gaze as hope bloomed in your chest.

***

Could you stop by?

Quinn’s heart stopped when your message lit up his screen nearly a week after his captaincy announcement.

He’d quickly made his way to your door, following your voice that called him inside when he knocked. He found you in the kitchen, the early morning light hitting your face in a way that made his breath catch in his throat.

“Hey” he breathed out, unsure where to stand.

“Hi” you replied, smiling shyly. “I’m glad you could come over.”

“You are?”

“I am” you confirmed chuckling quietly. “I guess I’ll start…I want you to know that it still really hurts that you misled me. I understand that you didn’t do it maliciously but it still felt really shitty to find out about.”

“I know and I’m sorry, if I could do it differently, I would. How can I prove that to you?”

“Well, you can be grateful your friends care so much about you.”

“Wait, what?” he replied, confused.

“Brock texted me the other day. He ended up sending me a screenshot of the messages you’d sent him that morning. It was really sweet” you smiled to yourself, pulling out your phone. You showed him the text thread but he already knew what you were referring to:

Congrats, brother!!!

Thanks, man. Wish you were here to celebrate

Celebrate with Y/N….oh wait, you’re an idiot and can’t, never mind

I know. I really fucked up and don’t know what to do. How do you fix something you built on dishonesty?

You apologize and tell her before she finds out some other way. Did you lie to her about anything else?

Of course not

Then it wasn’t built on lies. Just own up to the small piece that was

“At least one of us has a brain, right?” he joked and smiled when you rolled your eyes at him.

“You have a brain, doofus, you just overthink things until you may as well not have one.”

He felt himself blush at your statement, taken aback by how well you know him.

“So, I knew at least one thing you said was true—you knew you’d fucked up and didn’t know what to do about it. And your final response proves that everything else was as real as it felt at the time. As real as it feels now.”

His eyes rose hopefully at your words. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying if you lie to me again, even about what color your underwear is, I will fucking destroy you, got it?”

“Yes, got it, I swear” he replied, tentatively moving towards you. You opened your arms and he gratefully pulled you to his chest, smoothing your hair down and gripping your waist.

He was debating if he had the balls to try and kiss you when you mumbled, “Will you close your eyes?”

“Ummm sure?” he responded, lips quirking into a smile as he did as requested. He heard you retreat to the refrigerator followed by a plate settling on your kitchen island.

“Okay one more second…now open!”

On the table was a white cake with dark blue, Canucks colored lettering that read ‘Congrats, Captain Quinn! Love, Me’

“I know we couldn’t celebrate when it happened but I figured better late than never?” His eyes shot up at the worried tilt to your voice. He noticed you were fidgeting with your fingers, a dead giveaway you were as nervous as he felt. He walked closer, taking your anxious hands in his own.

“Thank you, this is amazing. I don’t deserve it, or you” he said sincerely.

“Well, that’s not for you to decide, is it?” you smiled and he couldn’t have stopped himself from leaning towards you if he tried.

He cupped your face as his lips tentatively met your own. He was surprised you were as timid as he was, so used to you taking charge. He gripped your hip with his other hand, pulling you flush against him, which drew a breathy sigh from your mouth that opened gloriously for him. Your tongues gently twined together as he felt your hands tangle in his hair. The kiss was slow and sweet but filled with so much promise it made his chest hurt.

He pulled away to rest his forehead against yours, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long” he admitted.

“Me too” you agreed, pulling his mouth back down to yours. His hands were surer this time as they slipped beneath your shirt to rub your lower back. You matched his confidence with your own, gently biting his lower lip before pulling away. “But I also really want to eat that cake.”

Well, there it is my first Quinn story! I hope y'all enjoyed and I welcome feedback 💕 We are so close to hockey season y'all!!

P.S. Yes, I wrote this as Aaron Rodgers busted his ankle last night, oops, thanks for the name inspo, I guess lol

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x y/n #vancover canucks

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