#yeah idk wtf this is

[quintinh43]

Devils Red | Luke Hughes

Warnings: 18+ MDNI

"What the FUCK is that?" Luke screeches, as you walk into the bedroom. His sudden yell startles you, and you jump towards him, quickly glancing behind you.

"Whats what? Is it a spider? Please, God no, no spiders," you ramble, terrified, jumping onto the bed with Luke as you peer at the floor.

"No," Luke shakes his head, pointing at your chest, "I'm talking about that! Why the fuck are you wearing a New York Rangers t-shirt," he gags on the word Rangers for dramatic effect.

You breathe out a sigh of relief, thank goodness there were no spiders. "Oh, this? It's my favourite shirt," you smile fondly. It's a Navy blue t-shirt, with the words New York Rangers printed across the front in a large bold font.

Luke folds his arms across his chest, pouting, "Why do you even own a Rangers shirt?" He asks sourly.

"My dad bought it for me," you shrug, tying off your almost dry hair in a braid and slipping under the covers beside Luke.

"Why would your dad buy you a rangers t-shirt?" He asks, tugging on the soft fabric of your tee with a displeased look on his face. You bat his hand away and curl into his chest, ready to go to sleep.

"He bought it for me cause he knew I liked hockey but not which teams, and he was on a work trip in New York, and I guess he saw Rangers merch and bought it for me." You mumble against his chest. To your surprise, Luke has yet to wrap his arms around you.

You peak one eye open to look at him. He's looking down at you, mouth twisted in a frown. You prop yourself up on an elbow and run a hand through his slightly damp curls. "What's wrong, honey?" You ask concerned, feeling his forehead and neck with your palms to see if his temperature is above average.

He wraps his hand around your wrist, pulling it away from his face gently, "I don't like that you're wearing a Rangers shirt." He pouts.

You roll your eyes, a small chuckle leaving your lips. "I promise, it doesn't mean anything. The only reason I still own it is cause my dad got it for me as a gift." You explain, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"You just said it was your favourite," Luke huffs.

"It's my favourite cause my dad bought it for me," you say again, crossing your arms over your chest, "not because it's a rangers shirt,"

You squak in surprise as Luke squishes your cheeks between his palms so you can't talk, "Baby, I genuinely dont think I can sleep next to you if you're wearing a Rangers shirt," he says it so seriously that you actually believe him.

Before you even have the option to poke fun at his absurdity, Luke is pulling his red Devils Hockey t-shirt over his head and holding it out to you expectantly. You roll your eyes, grabbing the t-shirt from him.

You turn your back to him to strip off your shirt. He pokes, reaches over, and snaps the band of your panties against your skin. "What was that for?" You yelp more from surprise that pain as you glare at him over your shoulder.

"What'd you turn around for?" Luke whines.

"Cause I'm changing, duh," you grumble, pulling the t-shirt off. Before you can pull the devils tee over your head, Luke is wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling your back against his bare chest.

"I wanna see all those pretty marks I left on your pretty tits," Luke smirks, breath fanning over your neck, causing a shiver to shoot down your spine.

"Luke!" You gasp, cheeks heating as you smack him in the chest, "Don't be so crude!"

Luke chuckles, nipping sharply at your earlobe, "You're acting like I didn't just have my dick inside you less than an hour ago,"

"Why'd you have to say it like that?" You mumble embarrassedly, hiding your face against his shoulder.

"Like what?" Luke smirks, knuckles brushing the underside of your boobs, you squirm in his hold, thighs clenching as his fingers skim over your ribs and down your sides He tightens his arms around your waist, keeping you still against him as he trails soft kisses along the curve of your neck.

"Luke," his name comes out a desperate whine, "Luke, I don't have anymore in me,"

"You sure angel? I think I could get one more," he smirks, his hands trailing back up your torso to knead at your hickey marked breasts.

"Lukey please," a soft man spills from your lips as his thumbs flick over your pert nipples. You aren't even sure what you're begging for anymore.

"How 'bout we make a bet? Hmm?" His teeth graze the sensitive skin at the crook of your neck and shoulder, "if I can get one more orgasm out of you i'm throwing out that rangers shirt, and if a can't, i'll never say anything about it ever again. Sound good angel?"

Luke pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger and takes your answering whimper as a yes. He tugs your soaked panties off, throwing them somewhere across the room.

He shimmies his sweats and boxers down his thighs, freeing his straining cock from the confines of the fabric. He gives his length a few quick pumps, before he's lifting your hips and guiding you down on his cock slowly. You whimper against the skin of his neck, body still sensitive from earlier. He stops when your hips meet his, a pleasureable burn shoots through your core as you stretch to accommodate his length.

Your reach around the back of his neck, fingers tangling I'm the curls at the base of his neck, while your other hand clutchs at his thigh. "You can move," you whisper.

Luke presses a kiss to your shoulder as he fucks up into you at a steady pace. "Feels so good angel, so tight and wet for me," he murmurs as he kneads at your tits. One of his hands trail down your stomach, and slips between your legs. Two fingers stroking your slit, and finding your clit with ease.

"Lukey 's too much," you whimper, back arching against him, as his strokes your sensitive bundle of nerves.

"I know angel, I know," Luke coos softly, " But you're doin' so good for me, so pretty, so sweet."

He nudges your legs wider, hit thrusts going deeper than before. Your moans and gasps seem to echo off the walls as Luke finds your sweet spot. Your fingertips dig into the muscle of his thigh as you clench around him. You can feel his lips tilt into a smirk against your sweat slicked skin.

"Let go for me, angel," he commands, voice dripping with honeyed love.

With his sweet words added the combination of his hands on your clit and breasts and his dick brushing the deepest parts of you, your release crashes over you like a tidal wave. Luke follows right after, filling you up with his warm release.

You go completely boneless against Luke, legs shaking with the aftermath of pleasure. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear while his hands dance over your torso in soothing patterns. Your eyes flutter closed as his hands continue their soft motions. Across your torso, over your thighs, up your arms, everywhere he can reach.

"Gonna pull out now, angel," he whispers. His hands grip your hips as he lifted you off his softening cock. He deposits you gently on the bed and presses a kiss to your forehead. "Be back in a sec."

You hum in acknowledgment, shivering at the loss of his warmth. A warm damp cloth against your inner thighs makes you jolt in surprise. "Sorry, love," Luke murmurs with a sheepish smile. He deposits the cloth in the laundry bin and grabs you a new pair of underwear while you grab the discarded devils t-shirt and slip it over your head.

"How 'bout we forgo the shirt all together," he grins, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"You insatiable horny bastard," you grumble, rolling your eyes as he slips under the covers beside you.

You cling to him immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck, fingers delving into his hair, while you tangle your legs together. Luke's hands snake under your t-shirt, rubbing soothing circles into your hip and back.

"For the record," Luke yawns, tucking his face against your hair, "you look much better in devils red, and im burning that stupid ass rangers shirt tomorrow."

"Luke Hughes, so help me god you are not burning a shirt that my father gifted me." You scold, poking him in the chest for emphasis.

Luke pouts,"But babe, I won our bet,"

"I never agreed to any bet." You say, with mischievous twinkle in your eye.

Luke opens his mouth to argue, but as he recalls the events that happened, it hits him that you never agreed yo anything. His mouth falls into the shape of an 'o', and you kiss him on the cheek with a smirk.

"Also, just so you know, my dad didn't onky buy me Rangers merch. Thanks to him, I also own Sharks, Blue Jackets, and Blackhawks stuff.

Luke looks at you in utter disbelief, "are you fucking kidding me?"

You giggle, and press a kiss to his lips before tucking your face agaisnt his chest, "I love you Luke, Goodnight."

---

This is my first time writing smut 🤠

Don't mind me while I throw away my phone away for the next 3-5 business days.

Anyways, I hope yall enjoy...

[gatoburr0]

Hehe hiii samurai shiver Hii um!!

Also yes I designed the tattoos from scratch and I still gotta do the one on her back 😪

[manchesterau]

sillies

[numbuh424]

met up with my biggest hater at the yellow box warehouse

[lucabyte]

Perceptive kid, I wonder just how much they pretend not to overhear.

[strawberriederror]

“Cuando tengo que admitir a mis propios errores para aprender y crecer:”

i HATW it, but ig someone’s gotta get me off my high horse once in a while

Odio estar en lo incorrecto pero alguien tiene q ponerme en lo correcto de vez en cuando 🙄 (broma)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

me Omw to annoy you about more Francesca content 😼😼

you and my entire inbox my friend strap in everyone this is gonna be The Francesca Mega Collection. part one The Bed Collection ft You HAVE To Click/Tap To Read Anything ESPECIALLY The Asks

thank you for joining me for the Francesca Bed Collection im going to pass out

[magentasnail]

so.. since youve done adhd and autism creature reactions,, would you consider maybe doing anxiety/idk creature ones?? its fine if u dont want to ofc! ^^

your wish is my command !

I also made wtf creature while I'm at it, but their face is already such a raw expression, the only variation i could think of was them but skrunklier

hope you enjoy !

[daisuki-daisuke]

thrim: i love you

incri:

incri: i LoVe YoU

incri: ew

incri: wtf

incri: whats wrong with you

incri: thats disgusting

incri is offline...

incri is online...

incri: ...

incri: i dont hate you

incri: fuck off ughhhh

incri:

[yaoigovroom]

Mr James Consonants?

[martyryo]

they beat the shit out of each other, nothing more nothing less yk haha they're just exhausted after a fight and ready to go take a shower with their silly soap and dirty water huhu.

[quintinh43]

One Hundred Kisses

"You lick your lips a lot when you're on camera," you say, watching Quinn's latest post-practice interview.

"Is that why you always insist on watching my interviews? To stare at my lips?" He asks with a smirk, watching you from the corner of his eye as he chops veggies for tonight's dinner.

You look at him with the most serious face you can muster. "Quinn, the only part of you I look at is your lips. You think I know what the rest of your face looks like?"

"Your loss," Quinn shrugs.

"Cocky bastard," you mutter, with a smile.

"You love me," he grins

"You're lucky I do," you say, leaning over the counter to peck him on the lips.

You rest your chin in your hands, taking a break from watching his interview to watch him in present. Standing across from you, making dinner.

He looks at peace. There's a soft look of concentration on his face. The sleeves of his hoodie are pushed upto his elbows, and the muscles in his forearms ripple as he dices vegetables. He's been growing out his hair. The tips curl around his ears, brushing the sides of his jaw, where there's a good amount of stubble growing and you absolutely loved it.

He hasn't shaved since you told you loved the beard, and every morning, when you get to trace his jaw and the short strands of hair prick at your fingers you fall more and more in love with him.

His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, a he pulls it between his teeth before his mouth settles back into a line of concentration. The grin that splits your face is massive, and you can't help but reach over the counter and peck him on the lips.

He smiles, chasing your lips and pulling you in for a deeper kiss. "What was that for?" He asks with a smirk, eyebrows raised.

You slip off the barstool and pad over to him so you don't have to lean over the counter awkwardly. He puts the knife down, and dries his hands on the dish towel. You cup his face gently, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones as you admire him. His hands settle on your hips, like it's their rightful place and he squeezes gently.

"I hate that you're so sexy," you pout, bumping your forehead against his chin, "it's so distracting,"

Quinn chuckles deeply, and it makes something pleasant roll in your belly.

"I always wanna kiss you, everytime your stupid tongue, licks your stupid bottom lip, in every stupid interview," you grumble, poking his chest pointedly between words.

Quinn backs you against the countertop, caging you between his arms. "So kiss me then," he murmers, voice dripping with honeyed sweetness as he crowds into your space.

For as long as you've been dating Quinn, he still manages to make you blush with ease. Weather, it's with his saccharine words, or subtle smirk or teasing kisses. Your cheeks flush as his nose skims along your cheek.

"What are you waiting for, sweets?" He hums teasingly, fingers trailing under your shirt, pressing into the warm skin of your waist. "You gonna kiss me or what?" He juts his bottom lip out in a stupid smirk, and your mouth goes dry with want.

You surge forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and capturing his lips with yours. He kisses you deeply, lovingly and with purpose, as if you are his only source of air, and you might disappear if he lets you go. He nips at your bottom lip, and you hiss. His tongue is slipping past the seam of your lips, licking into the delicious heat of your mouth.

Quinn hoists you onto the countertop, and you wrap your legs around him, pulling him flush against you. You pull away, pressing kisses across his entire face. " 'm gonna kiss you for every damn time you lick your stupid lips in one of those stupid interviews," you mumble, kissing him between words.

Quinn is laughing, as your lips smack against his skin repeatedly. Across his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, the corners of his mouth, along his jaw, you slow down, pressing one final kiss to his lips, and burying your face against the crook of his neck.

"That was a lot of kisses, baby," he hums, rubbing your back soothingly.

"Yeah, well, you lick your lips a lot," you shrug, with a grin as Quinn goes back to chopping vegetables. He goes through the motions of making dinner while you lounge on the counter top, and help wash dishes as he puts them in the sink.

Every time Quinn licks his lip, you make sure to lean over and give him a kiss. "I definitely dont lick my lips that much," Quinn says, brow raised with amusement after you kiss him for the umpteenth time.

"Yes you do!" You protest

"Babe, if you want to kiss me all you have to do is ask," he smirks cockily.

You bonk your forehead against his, and he pouts, rubbing the nonexistent wound on his forehead. You can't resist pulling his bottom lip between your teeth teasingly.

Quinn makes a low noise in the back of his throat, the spatula clatters to the floor, and he is yanking you to the edge of the counter, crowding between your legs and kissing you hard. You yelp as he nips sharply at your lip.

"You're a menace, you know that?" He says with smirk.

"So are you," you counter, leaning in to kiss him again.

"Dinners gonna burn," Quinn grunts against your lips. He makes no move to pull away.

You giggle, shaking your head and give him one more kiss, so the two of you can finally eat dinner.

[domo-arts]

Hits them with the utena beam 🌹⚔️

[srdcovka]

unknown / 911 5x13 / isabel allende / 911 1x6 / olivia laing / 911 2x8 / 911 6x15 / 911 7x5 / unknown / 911 5x9

[hijinxinprogress]

Billy definitely thinks about random things during fights and decides the internet needs to know immediately

[amaranthdahlia]

this pararell has me on grip rn