wdwbabes

[wdwbabes]

L. Hughes

[wdwbabes]

Thinking about Luke Hughes

[wdwbabes]

For everyone interested in UMich hockey: DYLAN DUKE HAD HIS NHL DEBUT TODAY FOR TBL AND SCORED HIS FIRST NHL GOAL!!!!!!!!!

[wdwbabes]

[6.1k] most of the league welcome a bye week as all-stars hits the season calendar. with both brothers picked and the rest of the boys on the team flying out somewhere warm for the break, luke has a decision to make. and that decision ends up being a staycation in new jersey with you—not that anyone else in his life really understand why. (smut)

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“Whoever is in charge of this schedule sounds like a sadist.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah!” You repeated with a small huff, staring down at your phone screen where—he presumed—you were looking at the Devils’ game schedule. “Surely there’s a better way than playing, like, three back to backs in such a short time span.” 

“It’s hockey,” Luke shrugged, like that somehow explained everything. “It’s just how it is. How it’s always been, to be honest.” 

“This makes no sense,” you grumbled, your eyes narrowed in distaste. “You literally played four games last week! Four! In the space of six days!” 

Luke snorted. “Yeah, Cherry, I’m fully aware. I was at the games. Playing.” 

You shot him a look before letting your brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t get it.” 

“The schedule?” Luke asked. 

“No, the hockey player sex god stereotype,” you retorted. “How the hell do they find the time to even have sex? How the hell do they have the energy to even have sex?”

Luke tried—and mostly failed—to bite back his grin. “That’s your big question about hockey players?” 

“Yes,” you deadpanned. “I know you are professionals and all but surely this is a bit ridiculous.”

“Hockey is hockey,” Luke answered, shrugging once again. “It’s just always how it’s been.” 

“So, hockey players are sex gods and sadists,” you muttered to yourself, your focus back on your phone screen. “Good to know.” 

Luke only laughed in response. 

“I don’t get why they don’t just move some of the games to the first week in February,” you pointed out. “You have nothing on then.” 

“Because that’s when All-Stars is,” Luke answered. “They send a bunch of guys from different teams to compete in these challenges and stuff.” 

“Like the Hunger Games?” 

“I—” Luke’s nose scrunched up. “Yeah, but less death and violence. People usually stay nice for it.” 

“Have you been reaped?” You questioned, grinning a little. 

Luke rolled his eyes. “No, I have not. They choose the best.” 

You frowned. “You are the best. You’re the best hockey player I know.” 

Luke shot you a look. “I’m the only hockey player you know.” 

“Semantics,” you waved him off. “My point still stands.” 

“No, I get something better,” he stated. “I get a week off.”

You grinned. “Big plans?” 

Luke shrugged. “Honestly, I was just looking forward to a week without Jack banging on my door for morning skate.”

“So you’re going to spend the week hibernating,” you teased, lightly nudging his thigh with your foot. But before you could pull your foot back, Luke had grabbed your ankle and easily maneuvered your feet onto his lap. “God, I’ll need to find someone else to cook for me for a week then.” 

And the thing is that Luke knew you were just teasing. For all his claims of being a great cook (which he was, just in the few meals he actually knew how to cook), he had grown into a comfortable habit with you. He enjoyed spending time at your place. He enjoyed unwinding after bad games or grueling practices. He just enjoyed being around you, both before and after his recent realisation of his feelings. 

But now he was staring at you from across the couch, watching the way you were lounging in one of his old Michigan sweatshirts and just felt that overwhelming urge to say something stupid. 

Instead, he settled on, “you should come over.” 

You paused, raising your brows. “Come over where?” 

“To my place,” he said, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Jack will be gone and I’ll have the place to myself. We can just—” He paused, his brain going blank at the sight of your amused expression. “Chill.” 

“Chill?” You repeated, grinning.

“Chill,” he nodded, squeezing your ankle. “Just…I feel like…I’m always imposing in your space, you know? You can impose in my space too.” 

“You are a weird guy, Hughes,” you commented, though Luke liked to think you sounded fond when you spoke. 

“Is that a no?” He asked before he could help himself.

You beamed in response. “It’s not a no.” 

He felt something quite like hope spark in his chest. “So, it’s a yes?” 

“Depends,” your eyes glinted. “Are you still Team Stefan? Because if the answer is yes, I will have to decline.” 

Luke groaned. “I said that after we watched, like, three episodes! Stop holding that over my head!” 

…

“This sucks!” 

“Yes, it sucks so much being acknowledged for your skills,” Dawson deadpanned, watching the way Jack wandered around the locker room after practice, whining and complaining about everyone else making their Bye Week plans.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Jack huffed, narrowing his eyes at the boy before shifting his attention to Nico, eyes wide and hopeful. “Take me with you? I want to go somewhere warm. I want to go somewhere where the chances of freezing my balls off are lower than zero.” 

“Dude,” Nate scrunched his nose, laughing. “We play ice hockey for a living, you can handle a bit of cold.” 

“Suck it up, superstar,” Curtis called out with a huge grin. “Gotta pay up for having the Hughes name on the back of your jersey.” 

“Moose lucked out,” Jack sighed. “I have Quinn and the bajillion Canucks players that are also going. I swear he rigged the thing.”

“Bajillion?” Nico repeated with a disgustingly fond expression.

“Bajillion,” Jack nodded. “There’s too many of them. No one needs that many Canucks in one place. It’s an infestation.”

“I’m surprised you even know what that word means,” Nate snorted. 

Jack glared. 

“You not going up to Toronto to support your brothers?” Dawson asked, turning his head to look over at Luke. However, the boy barely reacted. He repeated the question again, and one more time before finally throwing a ball of rolled up tape at the side of Luke’s head.

Luke tore his eyes away from his phone, snapping his head up to find half the locker room already staring at him. “What? What did I miss?” 

“Jack complaining about All Stars,” Curtis answered.

“Oh,” Luke blinked. “So nothing new then?” 

“You're not going to Toronto?” Nico asked this time, before Curtis could say whatever witty response he had ready to go.

“Uh, no,” Luke shook his head. 

“Scared you’ll steal their thunder?” Nate joked, patting Luke’s shoulder as he walked past to get to his stall. 

Jack snorted. “He thinks he’s too cool for Toronto. Probably following John to wherever the hell he is going.” 

John’s ears perked, turning whilst he was still removing some of his gear. “What? Luke said he didn’t want to come with us.” 

Jack paused, frowning a little before turning to Luke. “You’re not going away for the week?” 

Luke could feel his cheeks burning up. “No?” 

Jack’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

“At least he also won’t be somewhere warm,” Nico stepped in, a hand on Jack’s shoulder providing more than enough distraction from Jack asking questions as he turned to look at Nico with the embarrassingly obvious heart eyes he has always had for the captain.

It gave Luke the short reprieve he wanted, avoiding the other curious looks he was getting as he glanced down at his phone screen for a moment, grinning at the messages before he locked it and put it back in his bag so he could finish getting changed.

cherry🍒: i hope you know that i am using this opportunity to steal as many of your hoodies as i can before the week is over 

cherry🍒: consider this your one and only warning

…

It was surprisingly easy to prevent Jack from asking any more questions. 

A little too easy, if Luke was being honest. 

But Luke was also not an idiot so he didn’t question Jack’s silence after he mentioned a friend would be staying with Luke for the week. Jack had just stared blankly for a few moments before laughing, shaking his head and walking out the room, muttering something about needing to stop by Nico’s after he finished packing. Luke took it as the blessing it was and didn’t bring it up again.

Truthfully, it didn’t hit Luke how insane it felt to have you with him the whole week until he was running around the apartment, cleaning up whatever he could before his phone began ringing from the other room.

“Dude, you have shit timing.” 

Ethan laughed on the other side of the phone. “You’ve been ignoring me! I feel abandoned. What happened to the Luke who said he missed me?” 

“I never said that,” Luke retorted.

“Rude,” Ethan huffed. “Why do you sound so out of breath? Were you training or something?” 

“Nah, just tidying the place up,” Luke replied absentmindedly, staring at the hoodie he picked up on the floor with a frown. If he was being honest, he didn’t know if it was his or Jack’s, and usually he didn’t care. But the image of you wearing it thinking it belonged to him when in reality it was Jack’s passed his mind and he quickly shoved it into the washing basket. That would be a problem he dealt with later.

“Ugh, don’t even,” Ethan whined on the other side of the phone. “I’m so jealous, dude. I would kill to be on a beach somewhere right now.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke muttered as he continued to pick up a few empty bottles of gatorade on the coffee table before pausing. “Wait, what? What the fuck are you on about? Who’s going to the beach?” 

Ethan sounded just as confused on the other side. “You?” 

“No, I’m not?” Luke replied, frowning. “I just told you, I’m at my place.” 

“Yeah, because you are tidying up before you fly out somewhere. For Bye Week.”

“Who told you that?”

“I thought it was obvious? Why the fuck would you not be flying out somewhere?” 

And honestly, Luke didn’t have much of a comeback for that one. Because to everyone else, it did seem weird. He knew that. He gathered as much from the rest of the boys’ reactions in the locker room the other day. He gathered it from Jack’s reaction and Quinn’s message (‘wtf rusty’) when he broke the news in the brothers group chat. 

He knew. 

But somehow trying to justify it to one of his best friends over the phone made him realise how fucking dodgy it sounded when none of them really knew about you.

“So, let me get this straight.” 

Luke let out a deep sigh.

“You declined on going up to Toronto with your brothers because you didn’t want to impose, or whatever dumb shit you said, and let them enjoy All-Stars.” 

“Yes.” 

“And then you had the offer to go to Cabo and the Bahamas with teammates, which you also declined.” 

“Mhm.” 

“And then you decided to stay in New Jersey instead of even visiting us up in Michigan with your week off?” 

“Yup.”

“Dude,” Ethan squawked, offended and confused and downright discombobulated. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you have a concussion? Is this like a mid-season breakdown? Do I need to call for help?” 

Luke rolled his eyes. “You’re always so dramatic.”

“I think I am being perfectly reasonable here.” 

Luke disagreed—majorly—but he valued his life so he stayed silent.

“You’re gonna get so bored staying in Jersey all week,” Ethan pointed out. “What are you even gonna do?” 

Luke opened his mouth to reply just as the buzzer sounded through the apartment. If anyone asked, he would deny the way his face instantly broke out into a smile. 

“Sleep my ass off. It’s hard being in the NHL,” Luke said in the snobbiest voice he could, letting Ethan cackle on the other side and try to get another word in before he spoke up again. “Look, I gotta run, I’ll call you later. Promise.” 

“He plays in the big leagues and thinks he’s so much better than us.” 

“I am better than you,” Luke grinned. “I remember winning beer pong.” 

“That doesn’t fucking count! Mark was the one who—” 

“Bye, Ethan!” 

Luke couldn’t hang up and rush to open the door fast enough. 

…

Deep down, he knew it was stupid for him to feel nervous about you staying over at his place for the week. 

He had stayed over at yours more times than he could count on one hand. You had become an integral part of his life in New Jersey. You were one of his closest friends. He knew you. He knew you knew him. There should have been nothing that made the week weird. 

But he couldn’t help but feel like it meant more. This was him inviting you to stay over for a few days, to stay at his place whilst his brother was out of town, to spend the week with him when he should be resting and drinking some overpriced cocktail on a beach somewhere warm. 

You were his friend but spending his whole stay-cation with him in his apartment like the two of you were playing house was something far from platonic. 

It was a bit of a mindfuck, but not as much as realising just how fucking easy it all was.

It was different from the various nights he spent at your apartment. It was different seeing you in his space, fitting into his life so easily. It was different seeing you relaxed and laid back, looking like you belonged. 

It was different from the night at his birthday party, where you were one of many faces. It was just you and him, standing in his kitchen or sitting on his couch or lying in his bed. It felt so different but so fucking good. 

Only a few days had passed and yet Luke forgot a time where you weren’t here, where you weren’t by his side throughout the whole day. 

It was dangerous but the warning signs were easy to ignore when his attention was fully focused on you.

“Are you calling me lanky?” 

“It was a compliment!” You insisted, but there was a smile on your face—not that he could see, considering your face was currently pressed against his chest as the two of you laid on the couch to watch the fastest skater skill event. “You would do well in this challenge. It would take you, like, five less strides than the rest of them.”

Luke snorted. “Geez, thanks.” 

“You’ll see,” you murmured, nuzzling your head further into his chest. “You’ll do it one day and win and know that I’m right.”

“And then you’ll tell me ‘I told you so’?” Luke guessed, his eyes now on you rather than the tv screen. 

“Obviously,” you replied, lifting your head so your chin was resting on the spot your cheek was squished against moments ago. “I’m always right, Hughes. The sooner you accept that fact, the easier your life will be.” 

Luke raised his brows in amusement. “So when you very confidently said that you loved that movie where Andrew Garfield played Batman—” 

“Shut up,” you groaned, lightly pinching his side but he quickly caught your hand. “We were watching Twilight! I was thinking about Robert Pattinson! I got confused!” 

“Uh huh,” Luke beamed. “Just always so right—”

“You’re being a dick,” you huffed, even if you were smiling. “Here I was trying to give you a compliment—”

“By calling me lanky.”

“—and this is the thanks I get,” you shook your head. 

Luke’s expression softened, his hand reaching up to tuck some hair behind your ear as he smiled down at you. “Thank you, Cherry. I appreciate the confidence.” 

“Confidence is sexy,” you retorted, your palms warm and comforting against his sides. “Soon you won’t need me to remind you.” 

“But I like when you say it,” Luke retorted.

“Professional athletes and their praise kinks,” you sighed, grinning a little when he reached down to pinch your side this time. 

“I’m the only professional athlete you know,” Luke pointed out, trying to ignore the twist in his stomach at the mere idea that maybe he wasn’t. That maybe you knew more, that maybe you had experience with more, that maybe they were far more experienced than him and—

“And you have a praise kink,” you said, interrupting his spiralling thoughts. “Therefore, my theory has not been disproved. I’m right.”

Luke’s cheeks burned hot. “I do not have a praise kink.”

You snorted, grinning as you lifted a hand to playfully squeeze his cheeks. “Aw, baby, you do and it’s hot. Don’t get all shy about it.”

“Whatever,” Luke murmured, turning his focus back to the tv instead of the growing smirk on your face. 

But the thought lingered in his mind even as the two of you continued to cuddle on the couch, watching whatever movie you had chosen after the All-Stars events ended. It picked at his brain, chipping away at the self-restraint he had to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the night until the two of you were getting ready for bed. 

He was lingering by the doorway, watching you get your side of the bed (because apparently that was also something that came easily to the two of you) ready before you climbed into bed. And before he could stop himself, he was already blurting out the words that were on the tip of his tongue for most of the night.

“Do you really think the praise kink thing is hot?” 

His cheeks were already blushy and pink and hot when you turned your head to look at him.

“How long have you been wanting to ask that?” You asked, something lighthearted and teasing in your voice that was oddly reassuring. You didn’t think he was a freak for asking. Not that he ever assumed you would judge him, you both were far from that point. 

“Does it change your answer?” He asked, not sounding half as confident as he wanted to. 

Your smile softened a little as you walked around the bed and towards him. You tilted your head back once you were in front of him, watching him with a look he couldn’t quite work out. 

Luke swallowed a little.

“It doesn’t change my answer,” you answered honestly. 

Luke could feel something in his chest tighten. “And what’s your answer?” 

“I think it’s hot,” you told him, saying it so casually as though the two of you were discussing the weather. “I think everyone has a praise kink to some extent but…”

Luke could feel his heart pounding in his chest. “But?” 

“But it’s different with you,” you said, your fingers lightly skimming against his stomach before curling around the hem of his shirt. “You’re so…responsive. It’s hot.” 

His body twitched, like his skin was too tight for his body. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you confirmed, smiling a little before using the grasp on his shirt to tug him closer and close the distance between you both. Not that there was much.

Luke was almost embarrassed by the noise he made the second your lips were on his, your hands fisting the fabric of his shirt as you used the leverage against him. He ducked his head down, trying to chase your lips as you continued to tease him and tempt him. He barely realised his feet were moving until the back of your knees hit the bed and you pulled back to look at him. 

“So pretty,” you murmured, close enough to hear the way his breath hitched before you moved down onto the bed, with your grasp on his shirt enough to drag him down with you. 

It was far from sexy, if Luke was being honest. An awkward maneuver of too many limbs and shuffling up the bed that should have ruined the moment, but it didn’t. Because it was you and you were laughing and smiling and snorting when Luke almost decked it on top of you after he got his foot stuck. You made it feel so normal. Like it was all just a part of the charm. 

Maybe it was. Maybe feeling safe enough to be human and imperfect was a part of the charm. 

Because despite the uncoordinated and clumsy scrambling onto the bed, you were still looking at him like you wanted to see how pink his cheeks could turn.

Luke barely put up a fight when you pulled him back down, happily following your movements as he settled between your legs and let you wind your arms around his neck so his nose was brushing against yours before you leaned in to kiss him again. 

Unlike a lot of the other makeout sessions the two of you had, there was no rush. There was no lingering adrenaline from a game he wanted to work off or some bad plays he wanted to forget. There were no teasing messages or risky phone calls that were building up to this moment. There was absolutely nothing but just the two of you lying in his bed, making out because you wanted to. 

Because you wanted to kiss him and he wanted to kiss you. Because you enjoyed the weight of him on top of you and he enjoyed the way your fingers entangled themselves in his curls. Because for reasons that were beyond his understanding, you wanted this as much as he did.

“Fuck,” he muttered against your lips, his tongue lightly skimming over the area of his bottom lip you nipped with your teeth.

You smiled up at him. “See? So responsive. It’s cute.” 

He swallowed. “Cute?”

“Cute, hot, sexy, whatever word you want to use, pretty boy,” you murmured, one hand sliding down to cup his face as your thumb skimmed over the apple of his cheek. “All I know is that I like the noises you make.” 

Luke responded by leaning back down, kissing you because he could, because he wanted to, because he liked the way your laugh vibrated against his lips before you kissed back.

But whatever control Luke thought he had on himself when he was with you quickly dwindled as you pulled him closer, letting his body fall on top of you and let your thighs squeeze his sides until he was rocking his hips against yours, until he was practically panting between kisses.

“Mmm,” you hummed, pressing one, two, three pecks against his lips before your lips traced along his cheek and down his jaw. “That’s it, baby. I can feel how much you like this. S’cute how worked up you get just making out.”

“You’re hot,” he gasped out, like it was self-explanatory. Like it justified why he could feel his dick twitching in his sweatpants, probably already making a mess that he would pretend didn’t embarrass him as much as it did.

Your smile was softer, your hand on his face feeling more intimate as you guided his eyes to meet yours. “I think,” you started, your thumb lightly tracing down his cheek and skimming his bottom lip. “You’re hot too. And that you can come like this. Make a mess f’me.” 

And fuck, he could.

It wouldn’t be the first time he did, helplessly grinding against you whilst you kissed him and praised him and made his head fucking spin before he was coming harder than he really should be able to from a simple act. He could lean down, press his lips against yours and slide his tongue against yours and feel the way you cling onto him as he comes. He could do it. 

But there was a buzzing voice in the back of his head, getting louder and louder until—

“I bought condoms.” 

He could see the initial surprise on your face as you processed the words he just blurted out, the eyes locked on his kiss-swollen lips shifting to look up and watch the way he squirmed under the realisation of his words. He watched the way you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes narrowing slightly like you were observing him, keeping on edge until he spoke.

“You bought condoms,” you repeated, trying and failing to keep the smile off your face. “Big plans for this week?” 

“I—” Luke’s face burned. “That wasn’t… didn’t mean…I was just—” 

“Luke,” you said in a softer voice, your smile faltering a little into something more sincere. “M’only teasing.” 

“Okay,” he whispered, a knot twisting in his stomach with every passing second. He swore he was moments away from just exploding out of pure embarrassment or something just as humiliating. 

“Breathe for me,” you murmured, smiling a little when he let out a shaky breath. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to. Just because you bought them, doesn’t mean we have to do anything with them just yet.”

Luke swallowed, his whole body thrumming as he replied. “I…I want to.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, his brows furrowing slightly. “Only if you want to, too. Because consent is sexy, you know.”

You laughed a little, both hands now cupping his face so your eyes could meet his. “I do, if you want this. If you’re ready.” 

“It is,” he whispered, nodding again. “I trust you, Cherry. I want this. With you.” 

“Okay,” you whispered before kissing him again, slow and sure and content. 

It made him feel a little less like his skin was shrinking all over his body.

And you kept kissing him until his body didn’t feel so tense, until he didn’t feel like a wooden plank on top of you, until he was relaxed and making those little noises between kisses that let you know he wasn’t as nervous as before. 

You kept kissing him as you lightly nudged him back, letting him lean back on his knees until he was straddling your body, giving him enough movement to lean over and scramble through his nightstand until he found the unopened box of condoms.

He tried to tear the plastic covering over the box off, tried to peel it away but his hands were shaking more than he liked and his heart was pounding in his chest and—

“Hey, relax,” you murmured softly, sitting up and taking the box from his hands with little fight from him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled with a sheepish smile. “Nerves, I guess.”

“It’s okay,” you promised. “You know we can stop at any time, just say the word.” 

He swallowed harshly. “No, I do—”

“I know,” you smiled. “But I also want you to know that.” 

“Only if you do too,” Luke responded, looking completely serious as he said it. “If you want to stop at any moment too, you have to say something too. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this with me because it’s my…first time or whatever.”

“I promise,” you smiled before nudging him back, until he was settled with his back against the headboard and you were on his lap. “Don’t worry about the condoms right now, okay? Just focus on me.” 

And Luke did.

Because, in complete honesty, it was very easy to ignore the box of condoms and the bubbling nerves and the growing realisation of what was about to happen. The voice in the back of his head saying ‘oh fuck, this is it’ was barely a whisper when his focus was on you. 

It was easy to get lost in the familiarity of you. He was used to this. He was used to you sitting on his lap, straddling his thighs and kissing him senseless. He was used to you dragging your shirt over your head and throwing it to the side. He was used to you tugging his sweatpants down and letting your own follow and guiding his hand between your legs whilst you whispered filthy things against his lips. 

He was used to the way you always targeted the spot just behind his ear, blowing cool air until he physically shivered. He was used to the way your eyes fluttered shut when his thumb lightly skimmed across your nipple. He was used to choking out a breathless moan whenever your thumb slid along the slit on the head of his cock. He was used to the way you tugged on his hair when you were close, letting the dull pain throb wonderfully at the base of his skull whilst you pressed your face against his shoulder. 

You were right, all those weeks ago back at the start of the season, when you said he needed to build up to this moment. You were right about the different experiences and experiments the two of you had tried and tested over the last few months. You were right when you said it was just like practicing hockey. 

It felt a bit fucking poetic and pathetic to compare his sex life to hockey right now, but he got it. 

The same nerves that bubbled up before his first NHL game were no different. Because even though he had played hockey his whole life, it still felt nerve-wracking to play in the NHL. And even though he had spent the last few months doing so much with you, it was still kind of daunting to know it was all leading up to this.

But just like his first NHL game, it just felt right. 

You felt right. 

This whole moment felt right. 

Luke knew he was not like his friends or teammates. He had spent years growing up with locker room talk, hearing about random hookups in the backseat of a car or halfhearted blowjobs in a bar bathroom. He heard about one night stands and casual flings and situationships that tended to go sour. He had heard it all and it was unsettling to imagine that was the future waiting for him. 

But it wasn’t. 

And it felt a bit comforting to know that he never had to look back on this experience and regret the person he was with or where he was or whatever stupid risk it could cause his career. All he had to think about was him and you and the way you were looking just as affected and turned on as he was right now.

“You still sure?” You whispered, soft and comforting and so fucking caring, it made his throat feel a little tight. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, smiling a little as he leaned in to kiss you again to emphasise his point. “I trust you. I want this with you.” 

You smiled, still looking so fucking genuine before you leaned over to grab the box of condoms, removing the plastic peel with an ease he was only slightly jealous of. He watched you grab a small foil packet, glancing at him every few seconds like you were waiting for him to jump back on his decision.

“I trust you,” he repeated, confident and sure. 

His hands laid on your legs as you tore open the foil packet. His hands squeezed the fat of your thighs as you rolled the condom on him, stroking him a few times until he was bucking into your touch. His hands were on your waist, supportive and guiding as you slowly sunk down onto his cock. 

“Shit,” Luke breathed out, his breath shaky and gasping. “Shit.”

“I’ve got you,” you whispered, one hand on his shoulder and the other gripping the back of his neck. “I—fuck—I’ve got you.”

The squeeze of your walls around his cock made him want to close his eyes. It made him want to lean back against the headboard, keep his eyes closed and fucking bask in the feeling of you being so warm and tight and intense around him. But the desire to watch the way his cock disappeared into you was stronger, to watch the way your eyes fluttered shut and your lips parted as you settled fully on his lap. 

It was fucking memesiring watching the way you slowly lifted your hips and sunk down again. It made him feel like his head was spinning as he watched you continued to move, to sink up and down on his cock, to fuck yourself on his cock and moan his name and look into his eyes and—

“Can I—” He cut himself off, a pathetic and whiny noise leaving his lips when you squeezed around him. “Can I please—”

“Whatever you want,” you murmured, breathless and panting as you leaned in to kiss him like you needed it.

He let himself enjoy the kiss, to enjoy the feeling of being inside you and the weight of you on his lap and your lips on his before he moved. Before he reminded his brain that he can move, that he didn’t have to feel so boneless and helpless, as he shifted until the two of you had rolled over and you were beneath him and—

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, loud and shameless as he hooked an arm under your knee, lifting your leg out of the way enough for him to thrust back in as your head feel back against the pillow. “Shit, yes, like that.” 

For a second, it was hard to remember he was even in his own body as he watched you. It was fucking mesmerising as he watched you moan and whine beneath him, as he felt your nails digging into his skin and scratching down his back as you demanded him for more, as you muttered his name between pleas and begs and whimpers. 

Luke kind of wished this moment would last forever. 

Unfortunately for him, he was utterly weak when it came to you. Because you were pretty and sweet and you felt fucking unreal around him, and you were looking at him like he fucking meant something and—

It was so much. Too much. Just fucking enough. 

“I can’t—” He gasped out, his whole body feeling like it was buzzing alive as the knot in his stomach twisted tighter and his thrusts became sloppier. “I’m not gonna last long—”

“Come for me,” you breathed out, your hands cupping his cheeks as you wound your legs around his waist. “C’mon, Luke, wanna feel you come in me.” 

And well, he stood no fucking chance lasting after you said that to him.

He could have sworn his ears were ringing when he came. It was intense and overwhelming and disorienting and, fuck, it felt so good. He could feel his muscles tensing, his body rigid and shaking as his orgasm washed over him. He could feel the wave of pleasure rushing through him, leaving every fucking nerve in his body buzzing as he let himself enjoy the way you were squeezing him around him.

He felt like he was on cloud nine when you ran your hands through his curls, your lips against his ear whispering god knows what. But your voice was low and humming and comforting and he could feel his eyes slipping close to enjoy the sound of it. 

He could feel you running your hands over his body, feel the way every inch of skin was pressed against you, feel the way your legs were tightening around him like you didn’t want him to move just yet either. 

After the rush of adrenaline and pleasure, his body felt syrupy. His movements felt slow and unhurried, his thoughts felt like they were floating away. His brain felt fuzzy and pleased and content to just lay on the bed with you, bask in the feeling a little longer before the grossness and desire to clean up took over. 

Luke was more than happy to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, to close his eyes and let out a happy sigh and let himself relax after the really intense last few minutes the two of you had just experienced.

And if Luke was more awake, he would have noticed the way you tensed up the second he spoke. The way your eyes widened, the way your body instantly locked up, the way you went a little pale. 

If Luke was more awake, he would have been able to think twice before he spoke. 

But Luke wasn’t awake. He fell asleep after muttering the one thought that had been on his mind since New Years. 

He closed his eyes and slept like a fucking baby and woke up to an empty bed and an empty apartment and not a single sign of proof of the night before except the marks on his skin and the used condom lying on his bedroom floor. 

“I think I’m in love with you,” he had slurred into the crook of your neck, his voice barely louder than a rumble as the sleepiness really hit. 

If Luke was more awake, he would have stopped himself from completely fucking everything up. 

.

[wdwbabes]

rip to one of the best line names in canucks history :(

[wdwbabes]

Heyy girliee, first of all I want to say that your writing is absolutely amazing. I’ve been reading your Lando fics for the past couple of days and “endings, beginnings” had me feeling butterflies in my stomach 🫢 I wanted to ask you if you could write something about lando and reader being friends but constantly having sexual tension building up between them. Maybe they flirt with each other but never think of it as something so serious and one night after a party they completely destroy each other. I fully trust you with this and how you’ll develop the story haha and don’t hold back. Thank youuu :*

Think twice | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you so much for the love on Endings, beginnings & I appreciate you for taking the time to share this. Hope you like it 🤍���

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𐙚 summary ──── What starts as a chill party, where they sit in their old habits, ends with new boundaries crossed and a heavy tension they can no longer ignore.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, descriptive language, swearing, mentions of alcohol and drinking, friends to lovers, bit of jealous!Lando, smut, slight teasing, praising, fingering & oral (sit on it), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex.

𐙚 word count ──── 4.8k

𐙚 date ──── Jan. 21, 2025

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﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

THE TWO OF them are always standing next to each other, no matter the room they’re in. The context, just like the reason why this happens, is redundant. Plus, they don’t even do it on purpose; rather, they are unconsciously drawn to each other like two magnets.

The party has finally slowed to a lazy hum, the music just a tolerable background noise now. People linger in clusters around them, their voices a distant murmur blending with the faint bassline of a forgotten playlist. The living room is dim, lit mostly by the glow of a string of fairy lights drooping across the ceiling.

It was supposed to be a small gathering, but then a friend told a friend, and that friend told their friends. And now, it’s almost impossible to find a private spot to catch your breath without breathing someone else’s air.

Somehow, they did. They are tucked into the corner of a couch, their space a small bubble of comfort. Her legs are draped over his lap, bare skin warm against the fabric of his black jeans. He’s cradling her calf in one hand, his thumb absentmindedly stroking her skin.

Her fingers thread through his curls at the back of his head, twirling them lazily. It’s a casual gesture, but it sends a shiver through him every time she does it.

Their conversation shifted into easy gossiping about a mutual friend — someone they both think is trying a bit too hard with their Instagram posts.

“It’s fucking obvious he’s fishing for attention,” says Lando, sounding almost conspiratorial.

“I know, right? The cryptic ass captions, the mirror selfies. He thinks he’s smooth with it, too,” she replies, giggling at the thought.

Lando grins, his thumb still tracing circles on her leg. The banter feels safe, the kind of effortless connection they’ve always had. But underneath it, there’s a quiet tension that neither of them is ready to address. Because they are, maybe, a bit tipsy, or because none of them has ever had the courage to take it further, for some reason.

“Alright, I need to pee,” she announces suddenly, getting ready to stand.

But Lando tightens his grip on her legs, his lips twitching in a smirk. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do,” she insists, half-laughing, half-exasperated. “If I don’t go, I might pee on you.”

Lando shrugs, “Go ahead. Then I might discover a new kink,” he encourages her.

“New?” she laughs. “That implies you already have at least one.”

Lando winks at her without saying a word, the corners of his mouth curling into a mischievous smile.

She rolls her eyes, smiling back at his immature behavior. “My God. You’re actually the worst. Move.”

He doesn’t. Instead, Lando, just stares at her with an expression that’s visibly different. His usual playful gaze has shifted to something more intense, and she tells herself he’s just a little... intoxicated. Still, it makes her heart skip a beat, because he looks so adorable when his eyes focus on something so intently. And so hot, that it makes her almost forget why she wanted to get up in the first place.

“Lan, I’m not joking, I actually have to go,” she whispers, her voice softer now.

He exhales, loosening his grip but not before giving her leg a small, reluctant squeeze.

“Don’t get lost,” he says, the words carrying more weight than they should.

She shakes her head, slipping off the couch and disappearing into the hallway. Lando watches her go, his eyes trailing after her like he’s afraid she might actually not come back.

Which is ridiculous, because he should not care. There are lots of other girls that he can take home tonight if he wants to.

Want, being the keyword.

Leaning back against the couch, he sighs, running a hand through his hair. He’s always known she was the embodiment of the perfect girl for him — funny, kind, and loyal. But tonight, there’s something else in the air that makes his mind wander. The way she carries herself, her laugh, the way she makes everything around her seem brighter.

Lando realized long ago that he wants to he in her presence. The truth hit him like a punch in the gut. And he still feels that punch sometimes, especially when he sees her interacting with other people. Especially men.

He’s had thoughts about her before. Many thoughts. Wild fantasies he brushed off as nothing more than fleeting curiosity. And they’ve joked about it, too, their drunken ‘if we’re single at 35’ pact a favorite running gag. But tonight, it doesn’t feel like a joke — he might actually marry her if she keeps letting him invade her personal space like that. Except she wouldn’t have let Lando do that if she didn’t want him there.

He finds himself smiling at his own thoughts. But then, an unwanted stiffness claws his body.

She’s on the way back when a guy leaning against the wall near the bathroom is blocking her path. He’s tall, too close for Lando’s liking, and he is gesturing animatedly. She’s always too polite, smiling as she talks, but Lando notices the way she shifts her weight, edging away slightly.

Something close to jealousy ignites in his chest, but he manages to tame the feeling by looking away, and forcing himself to take a slow sip of his drink. She can handle herself, he knows that. But he’s also ready to step in, just in case he needs to. Most men don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and he’s aware of how insistent some of them can be.

When she finally returns, Lando’s mood has shifted drastically, and she notices it the second she looks at him.

“Hey, you good?” she asks, plopping back down and swinging her legs over his lap again.

“Yeah,” he says shortly, his hand resuming its absent stroking on her shin.

Her brows knit together. “Not you lying to me. Come on, Landinho, what’s with you?”

“Nothing,” he insists, but his tone is clipped, and his eyes won’t quite meet hers.

She punches his arm lightly, trying to break through whatever wall he’s just put up. “You sure?”

He looks at her then, and the vulnerability in his gaze takes her breath away. “Sure,” he says. But his hand tightens slightly on her leg, like he’s holding onto her in more ways than one.

Her heart clenches. Lando is her friend, the one person she can always count on, but in this moment, she feels the air between them growing in different direction. It’s not the first time, and it doesn’t make her uncomfortable, but it’s not easy for her to sit in it, either.

“You’re being weird,” she states, trying to lighten the mood, but her voice wavers.

“Yeah, sorry,” he mutters, forcing a small smile. “Just tired,” adds Lando, but there’s something he hides behind his eyes, something that makes her chest ache.

She studies his face, her teasing words dying on her lips. His eyes are heavy-lidded, the usual spark dulled by the late hour and maybe one drink too many. His movements are slow, lazy, his thumb still caressing her skin.

“I can see that,” she says gently, sliding her legs off his lap. “Up. Come with me?”

The sudden loss of contact pulls him out of his haze, “Where?” asks Lando, his voice faintly slurred with exhaustion.

“Do you trust me?” she replies with a knowing smile, standing up and extending a hand to him. “My god, Lando. My friend gave me keys to one of the rooms upstairs in case I wanted to crash.”

He hesitates, glancing at her outstretched hand before finally letting out a soft laugh and taking it.

They make their way upstairs, the faint thump of music growing quieter with each step. The room isn’t far, tucked at the end of a hallway. She unlocks the door, revealing a small but cozy space. The room is dimly lit, with a single bedside lamp casting a muted glow over the single bed that’s pressed against one wall, a small dresser, and an armchair in the corner.

Lando steps in behind her, the faint hum of the party fading as the door clicks shut. His gaze sweeps over the room, taking in the space. She lingers by the door for a moment, turning the key with a soft click, locking them in; the sound feels final, and heavier than it should.

Lando notices the bed immediately, his eyes narrowing briefly before he rubs the back of his neck, a gesture that betrays his unease. His voice is low and uncertain as he says, “You know what, I can crash on the couch downstairs. It’s fine.”

She tilts her head, her lips curving into a small smile as she watches him fidget. “You can,” she agrees, knowing that Lando has the superpower to fall asleep anywhere, no matter the place or how loud the background noise is. “Unfortunately, I locked the door,” she adds with fake concern in her voice.

Lando glances at her, his expression caught somewhere between playful and wary. “Yeah. You can unlock it, though.”

“But I won’t,” she replies, her smile softening, her words carrying an unspoken challenge that Lando catches immediately.

His lips part, and for a moment, he says nothing, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. Then, quietly, his voice dipping lower, he says, “Then don’t.”

His words linger between them, and she feels the weight of his gaze as it shifts to her. There’s no teasing in his expression now, no trace of the lighthearted Lando she’s used to.

She lets her arms fall to her side, her pulse quickening.

Lando’s chest rises and falls steadily, though there’s a tautness to his posture. His gaze darts back to the bed, then to her, and she swears she sees a flicker of something in his eyes — fear? Desire? Anticipation?

His jaw tightens, his eyes searching hers, and she feels the weight of everything left unsaid pressing down on them both. Every glance, every touch, every joke that lingered a second too long — it’s all there, bubbling to the surface.

The tension between them that has simmered for months, maybe even years, suddenly feels unbearable. Lando’s eyes meet hers once again, and the quiet resolve in her gaze breaks something inside him. And then, suddenly, a glance he catches from her it’s all it takes. The restraint he’s held onto for so long snaps like a rubber band stretched too far. Before he knows it, he’s closing the gap between them, his hands cupping her face as his lips crash against hers.

She responds instantly, her hands tangling in his curls as she pulls him closer. The kiss is all-consuming, months of buried feelings and unsaid words spilling out in a rush. It’s intoxicating, a heavy blend of alcohol and the faint sweetness of her cherry lip balm. His lips are soft, impossibly so, molding against hers like they were made to fit. The taste of him is dizzying, a perfect balance of warmth and want, and each movement of his mouth sends sparks of heat rippling through her.

It’s overwhelming, the way Lando kisses her — gentle, but with a growing intensity that leaves her breathless, her heart pounding as if it’s trying to match the rhythm of his. His fingers trail down to her neck, squeezing lightly and pulling her against him as they stumble backward toward the bed.

“Do you know how long—” he begins against her lips, his voice rough with need.

“Too long,” she cuts him off with another kiss while her fingers are rushing to tug at the hem of his shirt.

Lando groans as they tumble onto the bed. Their breaths are loud and uneven, filling the small space as their lips crash together again, need and desire fueling every movement. Her palm presses against the small of his back, coaxing him between her legs. He instinctively follows her guidance, his body lowering against hers until his forehead rests on hers. At that, Lando sighs, not with frustration but a soft exasperation that halts them both.

“Are we… okay?” he asks, half-amused and half-concerned. “We shouldn’t—we should not do this. Not like this.”

She doesn’t release him, her hands still on his sides, her legs loosely wrapped around him. “We are,” she assures him, her voice calm but insistent. “It’s just us, Lando.”

His brows furrow, his lips parting in disbelief. “I know. I just don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and—”

Her hands move to his face, cupping it firmly and forcing him to look directly at her. “Regret it?” the girl asks, her thumbs stroking his cheekbones. “Don’t be silly. You know this isn’t about tonight. I’ve wanted you for a while now. I know you do, too.”

His eyes flicker with something raw, and he swallows hard. “I do,” he agrees. “But. It’d be such a waste to mess it up.”

The weight of his confession settles over them, and he falls onto the mattress beside her. For a moment, they both stare up at the ceiling, their fingers brushing tentatively before intertwining. It’s quiet, save for the hum of the party faintly bleeding through the walls.

And then, “You’re such a good kisser, by the way,” she finally breaks the silence.

He lets out a chuckle, visibly affected. “You’re not making it any easier.”

“I’m already messed up because of you, Lan,” she confesses, turning onto her side, her fingers finding his arm and tracing slow patterns along its length. “I trust us. No matter the outcome.”

Her hand travels to his chest, her fingers brushing lightly over his collarbone before moving to his jaw. She traces the line of it, her touch light but electrifying. Finally, her thumb brushes over his bottom lip, her gaze following her movements so closely, as if she wants to devour him.

Their thoughts run wild, revisiting every stolen glance, the tension, the want — it’s always been there. Every moment brought them here.

And now?

“Do you, really?” asks Lando, his voice laced with curiosity.

She nods, her hands sliding down to rest over his, her fingers curling around his. “Completely. I trust us to figure it out as we go. Don’t you?”

He lets her words settle, a warmth spreading through his body. He does. But he still has to think twice before agreeing to something so drastic, especially when he is faced with something he wants so badly that it makes him burn with impatience.

Finally, Lando sighs, looking at her.

“It’s not a big deal, right?” she says with a quiet laugh, her voice tinged with both affection and relief. “We’ve always been good at just... being us.”

He smiles at that, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. “That’s true. We’re pretty fucking great at that.”

Lando’s breathing hitches as she guides his hand to her ass, pressing it against her curves with an undeniable confidence. His grip tightens instinctively, and she drapes a leg over his waist, pulling herself closer. Their eyes lock, her fingers tracing his features, as if committing every contour to memory. They’ve never been so close to each other, and the intimacy of the moment makes his heart race, while hers almost melts under the warmth of his body.

“You’re going to ruin me,” he admits matter-of-factly.

Her lips curl into a faint smile. “Hopefully,” she whispers, her hand traveling south, to work on unbuttoning his jeans.

Lando swallows hard, his gaze darkening as he grips her tighter. “If I fuck you tonight…” his voice drops, laced with a possessiveness that makes her shiver. “I won’t be able to let another guy come anywhere near you again.”

Her eyebrows arch in surprise, finally able to put the pieces together, understanding why Lando was acting so strange earlier.

“Are you jealous, Lando?” she teases, though there’s a flicker of curiosity in her tone.

Lando’s response is silent; instead, he leans in, his lips finding the soft curve of her neck. He sucks lightly, then harder, leaving a blooming hickey that makes her gasp.

When he pulls back, his voice is firm, “No, I just want people to stay away from what’s mine.”

Her breath catches, and before she can stop herself, the word escapes her lips in a near-whisper. “Yours.”

The corners of his mouth twitch, but he doesn’t say anything, letting the intensity in his gaze speak for him. She pushes at his chest, making him fall back against the mattress with a soft laugh, and crawls on top of him, her thighs straddling his hips.

Impatiently, her hands work on his shirt, pushing it up his chest. “Off,” she demands, tugging until he lifts his arms and lets her pull it over his head.

His hands waste no time, slipping under her skirt and pulling at the lace of her panties. “These,” he says quickly, his breath warm against her collarbone, “are in my way.”

With a sharp pull, he slides them down her thighs, and she shivers as the cool air kisses her damp skin. She leans down, burying her face in the crook of his neck to hide her embarrassment as he guides her hips forward, her bare core pressing against the warmth of his abs. The firm ridges of muscle beneath her send a jolt of pleasure through her body, and she lets out a soft moan.

Lando’s hand tightens on her hip, his thumb brushing over her skin. “Look at that,” he breathes heavily, “What got you so excited, hm?”

She whimpers at his words, the heat pooling in her cheeks as much as between her thighs. “Don’t—” she mumbles into his neck, her voice muffled and shy.

He chuckles softly, the vibration of it against her skin making her shudder. “No, that’s so hot,” he teases, moving her hips just slightly so she drags against him. His own breath catches, and his hips shift upward, pressing the hardness of his length against her thigh. “You feel what you’re doing to me? It’s mutual.”

She lifts her head, her eyes meeting his as she lets her fingers trail down his chest. Next, she adjusts herself as her hand slides lower, brushing against the waistband of his pants before she pushes them down just enough to free him. His cock springs free, and she bites her lip at the sight of it, her own arousal growing as she reaches out to wrap her hand around him.

Lando groans, his head falling back against the pillow. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice rough and full of longing.

As she leans down to press her lips to his chest, her tongue flicking over his nipple, a sound escapes him that’s somewhere between a gasp and a moan. She glances up again, amused. “Well,” she teases, her voice playful but sultry, “I think I just found your new kink.”

Lando lets out a weak chuckle, his hand tangling in her hair as he pulls her back up to kiss her. “Shut up,” he speaks over her lips, but the way his hips buck against her hand tells her she’s right. “Everything you do is my kink,” he whispers, the rawness in his voice making her heart race.

Her cheeks flush a deeper shade, and with a playful glint in her eye, her hand squeezes his cock lightly, eliciting a sharp inhale from him. “Sorry,” she giggles, feigning innocence, “I just wanted to make sure.”

He scoffs, shaking his head with a smirk before his hands cup her ass firmly, pressing her harder against him. His voice is rough and dripping with need as he almost begs, “Come sit on my face.”

The unexpected plea is leaving her breathless, painting her face in confusion. “What?” she stammers, her voice nearly swallowed by the thrum of arousal coursing through her.

“Yeah, you heard me,” Lando assures her, his tone insistent, his eyes ablaze with anticipation.

Without waiting for her to argue, he pushes her skirt up around her waist, revealing the soft skin of her thighs, and pulls her closer to his face. She hesitates for a moment, her nerves warring with her desire, but when his strong hands guide her gently and his lips press a teasing kiss against her inner thigh, she gives in. The first swipe of his tongue against her entrance makes her gasp, her hand flying to the wall to steady herself.

Lando groans as he tastes her, the sound vibrating against her core and sending shockwaves through her body. One arm wraps tightly around her thigh, anchoring her to him, while his free hand drifts down to his cock, stroking himself in tandem with the rhythm of his tongue. Her moans spill into the air, mixing with his as Lando’s mouth works her over like a man starved, warm and wet and utterly relentless.

“Lan,” she breathes, her voice shaky as the intensity builds. Her hips jerk against his mouth instinctively, and he responds by pulling her even closer, burying his face deeper between her legs.

His tongue flicks, swirls, and presses in all the right places, and she can barely keep herself upright. She has to press both of her palms on the wall, but even then it’s not enough to keep her grounded. Not when Lando laps at her clit, his fingers digging into her thighs to keep her still as her body begins to tremble.

“You taste so fucking good,” he informs her between strokes of his tongue, his words muffled but clear enough to make her toes curl.

As her breaths turn shallow and erratic, she feels the pressure coiling tightly in her abdomen. Lando senses it, too, and his grip tightens, his movements growing more fervent. “Wanna come for me?” he asks as impatient as she is.

Before she can even process his question, her climax crashes into her like a tidal wave, her thighs trembling around his head as her moans echo through the room. Lando doesn’t stop, his mouth and tongue coaxing her through every pulse and tremor until she’s gasping for air.

In one swift, effortless motion, he pulls her down onto the bed and flips her over, positioning himself above her. His lips are slick, his gaze heavy-lidded with lust as he pumps two fingers into her, the wet heat of her still clenching around him.

“That’s it,” he encourages, his thumb brushing against her sensitive clit as his fingers curl inside. “Let me feel you.”

Her body arches off the bed as another wave of pleasure crests over her, Lando’s name spilling from her lips in breathless cries. The sheer intensity of his touch and the quickness of it all leave her spinning, her mind barely able to keep up as he drives her over the edge once more.

By the time her breathing begins to steady, Lando leans down, his lips brushing hers in a lingering kiss, tasting her satisfaction on his tongue. He grins against her mouth, utterly smug but entirely captivated.

“See how fucking delicious you are?” he whispers, and she can only nod, still lost in the aftermath of him unraveling her completely.

Seeing the pleasure etched across her face, Lando can barely hold it together. His hands tremble slightly as he shoves his jeans and boxers down for good, freeing himself at last. His cock, heavy and flushed, rests against her thigh, the warmth of her skin giving him goosebumps. He breathes heavily, his chest rising and falling in sync with hers as he pauses for just a moment, meeting her gaze with a mix of vulnerability and pure lust.

“Are we really gonna do this?” asks Lando, his voice hiding too much desire under its raspy tone.

His eyes search hers, looking for any hint of doubt. Luckily, there is none. She just nods frantically, her hands sliding down his back to cup the firm muscles of his ass.

Her touch sends electricity through him, and she guides him where she needs him most, her body arching in anticipation. “I want you. Please.”

Without breaking eye contact, he sinks into her, and the world stops for both of them. His head falls forward, a low groan rumbling from his chest as he feels her warmth envelop him, her slick heat drawing him in effortlessly. Her body opens for him so easily, so perfectly, that it steals his breath. The tension that had coiled tightly in her frame melts away as her legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer.

Her arms encircle his shoulders, holding him tightly while she gasps Lando’s name. Her voice is music to his ears, and he presses his forehead against hers, the connection between them both overwhelming, yet grounding. Her fingers slide into his curls, playing with the strands at the nape of his neck as her hips shift instinctively, adjusting to his size.

“God, you feel…” he trails off, unable to find the words. Instead, he lets his body speak for him, drawing back before thrusting forward again. His movements are purposeful and powerful, each one making the bed creak slightly beneath them and pushing her up and down the sheets.

Her lips part with soft cries, her fingers tightening in his hair as her body meets each of his thrusts. “Lando,” she moans, her voice full of need and adoration, spurring him on. “Yes, that feels so good. Don’t stop.”

He catches her mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing her sounds as his hands wander over her body. His fingers hook under the hem of her t-shirt, and he tugs it upward, breaking the kiss momentarily to pull it over her head. The sight of her bare skin, flushed and glistening, takes his breath away. Her breasts are adorned with black lace, and the contrast against her skin ignites something primal in him.

“Stunning,” says Lando just as his hand drifts to her chest, brushing over the delicate fabric.

The way she arches into his touch, her nails scraping lightly against his shoulders, drives him wild. His thrusts deepen, his hips moving with purpose as the room fills with the sounds of their bodies meeting, her moans, and his ragged breaths.

“Fucking hell,” he rasps. His jaw clenches as he feels her tightening around him. “You’re killing me. So tight and—”

Before he can finish, she pulls him into a kiss. It’s shallow, their lips barely meeting as they breathe each other’s air. Her nails dig into his back, her legs trembling as she holds him as close as humanly possible.

“You’re so good, Lando,” she murmurs, her voice quivering, her praise like gasoline on his fire. “My favorite boy.”

Her words send him over the edge of control, his hips stuttering as he thrusts deep inside her, feeling her walls begin to flutter and clench around his cock. Her back arches, her head burying into the pillow as her orgasm crashes over her like a tidal wave. Again.

Her moans are unfiltered, and she clutches him like he’s her lifeline, while Lando stills inside her, groaning low and long as her body grips him so tightly that knocks the air out of his lungs. He presses his forehead against her chest, their breaths hurried as her aftershocks pulse around him so sweetly. Her nails scrape lightly down his back, grounding them both, continuing to whisper his name like a prayer.

It’s enough for Lando to surrender to his own orgasm, his body trembling as wave after wave of release takes him over. He stays buried inside her, unwilling to part just yet. The warm tightness around him makes him shudder, his hand gripping her thigh to anchor himself.

When he finally pulls out, he hesitates before pressing his knee between her legs, feeling the slick warmth of their combined arousal smearing against his skin. She squirms against him, her overstimulated body trembling, her hips shifting involuntarily as aftershocks ripple through her.

Lando watches her, his eyes dark with satisfaction, his voice husky as he whispers, “Forget 35. Let’s get married tomorrow.”

She exhales sharply, a laugh bubbling out of her. “I’m down,” she teases, her tone light but affectionate. “Let’s book the venue now.”

He looks at her, gaze softening, filled with something deeper as he reaches behind her and, with one measured motion, unclasps her bra. The suddenness of it catches her off guard, her eyes widening as he tosses it aside like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Before she can say a word, Lando leans over the side of the bed, fishing for his shirt. He finds it, holding it up, then tugging it over her head, the oversized fabric swallowing her frame.

“Perfect fit,” he says softly, his fingers brushing against her arms as he helps her adjust it. The gesture makes her chest tighten, her heart swelling with an ache she doesn’t fully understand yet.

After that, Lando slides back into his boxers and pulls the covers over both of them. The bed is small, forcing their bodies to press together in a tangle of limbs. It doesn’t feel awkward, though. It feels like a new home, safe and peaceful.

He rests his head on her chest, his breath warm and steady against her, while his hand absently caresses her through the fabric of his shirt, his fingers brushing over her nipple. Everything about the moment feels somehow so normal, like they’ve been this way forever.

The silence stretches on, so comforting, until she suddenly breaks it with a soft groan. “I have to pee again.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Thank you for reading!

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© trashy track tales, 2025

[wdwbabes]

STUCK WITH YOU ; QUINN HUGHES.

❄︎ pair: quinn hughes x y/n.

❄︎ synopsis: of all the things y/n thought she was going to do on christmas eve, being stuck with her sister’s brother-in-law, quinn hughes, wasn't one of them.

❄︎ word count: 5.6k

❄︎ chapter warnings: unedited, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, use of the word slut (once), softdom!quinn, dirty talk.

💌 from me to you: merry christmas, babies 🩶 i hope all of you had a great time and lots of delicious food. 1st of all, i’d like to apologise bc i got carried away with the word count! 2nd of all, i’m sorry about how dirty this is… this was supposed to be wholesome and cute but i don’t know what happened 😭 sorry…. anyways, as always, forgive me for this poorly written smut and share with me your thoughts! i love you! ♡

𖧷

Ever Since your sister started dating one of the most known hockey players, Luke Hughes, your life changed— for the better, that is. It’s not like you’re used to all the attention, but it’s nice to attend parties and meet your favorite hockey players for free.

But, the only issue you didn’t see coming when she announced that she was, in fact, very much in love with the youngest of the Hughes brothers is that now you have to constantly coexist with your long time celebrity crush, Quinn Hughes.

It’s an old thing, your situation with Quinn Hughes. You first started noticing him during his time in college, when he was just eighteen.

None of your friends understood what was so special about him but you just told them they didn’t have to: Quinn Hughes is one of the most attractive men you have ever seen, and you’ll stand by that until the end of your days.

When your sister decided that she would make Luke Hughes hers, you remember laughing and saying: He’ll be yours when Quinn Hughes’s mine.

Turns out, Luke is your sister’s.

And, well. Quinn’s not yours.

When you’re around him, during dinners and parties, you almost don’t even acknowledge him. It’s just because you don’t know how to be around him without immediately blushing and cringing at your own words.

It’s like you’re a teenager all over again, but what else can you do, really. He’s attractive, he’s funny and he cares about the people he loves; you cannot not be in love with someone like him.

But now you’re his brother’s sister in law and have been for the past year. You have been doing a great job at not staying in the same room as him for too long, and even if you can come off as rude or mean, it’s better than to get caught while watching him with lovey eyes.

It’s December 24th, and you’re on your way to your sister’s house, where you’d spend Christmas with her— and since she’s only arriving later that night because of work, you’ll be there earlier to arrange things for her.

You’re annoyed by the fact that she has to work until late during Christmas time but at least you’ll get to spend the night with at least one of your family members, since your parents are out of town.

What’s also annoying is the fact that it’s cold and snowing. Not just normal, winter type of snow but North-Pole type of snow. You’re shivering inside your car, because your heater is broken and you stupidly decided that it’d be a great idea to wear just leggings and a sweatshirt.

You park in front of her house, sighing and trying to move as fast as your frozen limbs could. You’re also carrying a hundred bags with you, because decorating is your favorite part of Christmas and knowing your sister and her workaholic personality, you know that she probably doesn’t even have her tree out of her attic yet— so you’ll have to do the whole decorating thing by yourself.

Which you silently prefer because there’s nothing you hate more when people try to dictate where your ornaments should go.

You ring her doorbell first, before dumbly realizing that she’s probably at work already, so you just start looking for the spare key she gave you when the door opens, making you lift your head up with a smile, only to drop it two seconds later.

“Oh.”

Quinn’s looking back at you with a polite smile, and you’re not sure that what you’re seeing is actually real because why the hell would Quinn Hughes be at your sister’s house during Christmas?

“Hi, Y/n.” He says, leaning against the door frame.

You frown without even noticing it. Why didn’t she warn you that he would be at her house?

You’ve been staring at him for what feels to be hours, when he speaks again: “Aren’t you… cold?”

You realize that he’s right and you are cold. Cold and tired because you’re still holding the heavy bags, so you just nod and watch as he opens the door more and reaches for the bags in your hand, picking all four of them up like they’re not heavy at all and letting you in.

You’re still in shock and shivering when you close the door behind you, welcoming the warm air inside the house, thankful for your sister’s amazing heating system.

Quinn walks back to the living room and you grab your phone, dialing your sister’s number and putting the phone against your ear.

“Y/n? Are you—”

“Why didn’t you tell me he would be at your place?!” You shout slash whisper, hiding behind her clothes rack.

“Who’s he? Why are you whispering?”

“What do you mean who’s he?” You hiss. “I’m talking about him!”

“Who’s… Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.”

Her laugh makes you blush. “I didn’t think he’d arrive so soon. I told him he could come later because you’d be the only one there so I just guessed… well. Nevermind.”

“What do I do?!” you sound so desperate it’s almost funny. “I can’t be here! You know I—”

“Y/n, stop freaking out. It’s just Quinn,” you can almost hear her eyes rolling to the back of her head. “Go decorate and do all that stuff you like to do during Christmas. I’ll pick up the food goodies when I leave work, so please just… be normal.”

“What do you mean be normal I can’t—”

“I gotta go. I love you. Bye.”

She hangs up the call and leaves you staring at your phone screen, contemplating how you would scape when it was so cold outside and Quinn’s already seen you so—

“Y/n? Are you playing hide and seek?”

You immediately get out of your sister’s clothes and smile awkwardly, almost opening the front door and standing in the middle of the road, waiting for someone to run you over.

“No, I—” you stutter, looking everywhere but him. “I was just… talking to my sister…”

“I see,” he says. “Is she okay? It’s snowing outside, and you’re still shivering.”

How the hell did he notice that?, you ask yourself, before nodding.

“She is, yeah. She’s working.”

You step further inside the house, walking past Quinn like he’s some type of virus. Besides the huge tree sitting in the corner by the TV, your sister’s house is poorly decorated, just like you predicted, so at least you’ll have something to busy yourself with until she arrives.

“She told me she’d work until late and she said I could come and help you out with your decorations until she and Luke arrive.” He explains, and you turn around, raising your eyebrow at him, confused.

“Luke’s coming?” You ask.

“He is, yes.”

“I thought… I thought you guys would spend Christmas with your parents.” You say, because that’s what you heard your sister saying.

“Well, they’re coming too,” he chuckles, putting his hand inside his front pockets. “I’m guessing she didn’t tell you anything?”

“No, I thought—” you start, but then you bite your lips, giving up mid-sentence. You didn’t want to sound rude by saying I thought it’d be the two of us only so you just stay quiet. “Nevermind. It’s nice that you all get to spend Christmas together.”

Quinn stares at you for a few seconds before nodding. “I’m sorry if you’re upset.”

You frown, shaking your head.

“I’m not, I promise. I just wasn’t expecting all of you,” you reply, embarrassed. “I brought my Grinch sweater…”

He laughs, and you have to stop yourself from smiling too.

“It’s okay. I’ll wear my Cindy Lou one.”

You want to yell at him and tell him to stop being nice, but you already know that’s just how he is. That’s one of the reasons you like him so much.

You look outside your sister’s big window and frown, noticing that the snow is only falling faster, and the street is white everywhere now. Even your car is barely visible.

“It’s getting ugly,” you say, pressing your lips into a line. “I hope it stops soon.”

“I don’t know about that…” he comments, sitting on the couch next to your bags. “I did see a blizzard warning in my weather app today.”

“What?” you almost shout. “Are you sure it was for today?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “That’s why I came earlier. I thought it was dangerous for you to stay here alone.”

You want to ask him what one thing has to do with the other but you’re too busy blushing over his sentence to do anything else.

“I’d be just fine, but thank you,” you mumble. Sighing, you look down at your clothes. “I’m going to change and then start decorating.” You announce, not even sure why.

“You should probably put on something warmer,” he looks down at your clothes before running his fingers through his hair. “It’d be a shame if you caught a cold.”

You don’t say anything, just nod and make your way to your sister’s bedroom, happy that you’re both the same size. Once you find a comfort, two piece set wool outfit, you grab it and change, immediately welcoming the warmth it brings.

You also spend more time in your sister’s bedroom than you should, sitting on her bed and contemplating what you should do.

It’s not like Quinn’s a bad person or someone difficult to be around, but you get shy really easily and he happens to master the art of making you embarrassed, even if it’s not in a bad way.

He’s probably not even aware of it, too, because he’s just a really kind person and that’s just how he treats everyone he likes.

He doesn’t like us, your brain reminds you, he’s just polite.

Whatever.

You get back to the living room and find him still sitting on the couch, watching some random, Christmas movie. You reach for your bags, trying to open them as silently as you could, not wanting to disturb him.

You remove the plastic boxes full of ornaments and distribute them around you, separating them by color and size. It’s therapeutic to you, and it helps to calm your brain down.

Soon, the fact that Quinn’s in the same room as you, alone, doesn’t even cross your mind. You’re having fun decorating your sister’s empty tree, making it beautifully decorated and ready for the night.

After what’s probably thirty minutes, you reach for the last item inside your boxes, which is a bright, yellow star, heavily bedazzled. It’s been yours since you and your sister moved out of your parents’ house and you love it more than all of your other Christmas decorations combined.

The only issue is that it should sit on top of the tree, and usually it wouldn’t be a problem, because your sister had been letting you decorate her tiny tree for the past years, and you’ve been able to reach it just fine. But this year she decided that she wanted to challenge you and she bought a tall one, so now you can’t really reach the top, and you only realize it after jumping for a few minutes and not even touching the top once.

“Do you need any help?”

Quinn’s calm voice startles you, and you hold back a scream. You had forgotten that he was sitting just behind you, and probably had been watching you embarrassing yourself for the past three minutes.

You’re feeling your cheeks warm when you answer: “No, I… well. Maybe?”

He chuckles, getting up. “Does your sister have a ladder?”

“No, she doesn’t,” you roll your eyes. “She says someone as tall as her should do just fine without one.”

“I don’t understand,” he laughs. “She’s just a few inches taller than you. There’s barely a difference.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling her.” You say, annoyed. “I can just grab a chair—”

“No, let me help you.” He walks towards you, and when you’re just about to tell him he’s not going to reach the top by himself either he does something that sends you to another world.

He picks you up effortlessly, putting you down on his left shoulder, and hands you the star like he wasn’t holding another human on one of his shoulders.

You put the star on the top of the tree, moving automatically because your brain hasn't been working properly ever since you stepped into your sister’s house.

“Are you done?” he asks, and he doesn’t even sound tired. “Do you need me to hand you anything else or—”

“No, you can… put me down, please.” You mumble, blushing as he grabs your waist and slowly pulls you down until your feet are touching the floor.

He’s standing behind you, chest glued to your back, and you hold back a yelp, stepping away like his touch is deadly.

“Uh, thanks?” It sounds like a question, but you don’t repeat it again. You turn around, watching as he smiles and nods.

“It looks great, Y/n.”

You also smile, because you always do it whenever people compliment your decorations skills. “Thanks. Again.”

“Well,” he shrugs, looking around. “What do you want to do now?”

You mimic his move, looking around your sister’s living room.

“I mean, I don’t know,” you hum. “Maybe set the table? I know it’s early but—”

“Yeah. We can definitely do that.” He starts walking towards the kitchen and you freak out.

“What!” you yell, and he stops, turning back around and looking at you with confused, pretty eyes. “I mean— what do you mean we?”

“Oh,” he shrugs. “I thought I could help.”

“Are you… like… serious?” You frown.

He frowns back. “I was, yes… are you one of those people who don’t like when people try to help because you’re afraid they’ll end up messing up with your arrangements?”

“Well, yes and no,” you laugh, only to shake your head after. “But it’s not that. I’m sorry, I just… I’ve never seen a man get up to help before. Especially during Christmas.”

He seems to take a while to process what you had just said, but then he laughs, beautifully you’d say.

“They weren’t raised by Ellen Hughes, Y/n. I was.”

You smile, realizing you were utterly fucked. And not in a good way.

You and Quinn worked in silence, and even though you almost dropped the plates twice with how nervous you were, this moment will probably keep repeating itself forever inside your head, from the moment you wake up to the moment you'll go to sleep.

He’s calm and he listens to each one of your orders without hesitation, just nodding and doing as you say. He carries the heavy stuff and just lets you busy yourself with making everything pretty, which you do.

You’re about to tell him that you’re done when the TV catches your attention.

“Good evening, and Merry Christmas Eve, everyone. This is Nicholas Edwards reporting live with an urgent weather alert. It’s shaping up to be a Christmas Eve like no other—because we are in the midst of a blizzard that shows no signs of letting up anytime soon.”

“Oh my God,” you hear someone saying, and realize that it was you. You move until you’re standing in front of the TV, covering your mouth with your right hand.

“Right now, snow is coming down at an incredible rate, with visibility dropping rapidly. Winds are gusting up to 40 miles per hour, creating near whiteout conditions in many areas. And the latest forecast? The snow isn’t expected to stop until early tomorrow morning—Christmas Day! That means we’re looking at significant snowfall totals, possibly more than 18 inches in some spots.”

“Oh my God,” you repeat, looking at Quinn before looking back at the TV again.

“Officials are urging everyone to stay indoors tonight. If you don’t absolutely need to be out, don’t risk it. Roads are treacherous, power outages are a real possibility, and emergency crews are working hard to keep up.”

“What about my sister and your family?” you ask, almost rhetorically, because you know Quinn knows just as much as you. “They can’t come now because it’s dangerous.”

“I’ll try to call my parents,” he says, reaching for his phone already. “Can you call your sister, please?”

“Already doing it.” You say, dialing your sister’s number.

“So… you saw the news.” Is the first thing she says after picking up and you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, Quinn and I did,” you say. “What are we going to do? It’s not safe for you to drive around and you’re definitely not driving thirty minutes back to your house in this weather.”

“I guess you’re right,” she sighs. “Luke and I are together, though. He saw the news before I did and drove me to his and Jack’s apartment since it’s closer to my workplace…”

“So, you’ll stay at their place?” You frown.

“What else can I do, right?” she chuckles, but you can tell she’s just as upset as you. “At least you’re stuck with the sibling that knows how to cook.”

“Hey!” You hear one of Quinn’s brothers, probably Jack, yelling in the back.

“You’re probably right,” you mumble. “Well. We’ll see each other tomorrow then?”

“‘Course we will, bubba,” she sounds joyful again. “Merry Christmas, Y/n. I love you. Tell Quinn I said Merry Christmas to him too!”

“I will,” you nod, even though you know she can’t see you. “I love you too. Bye.”

“Bye.”

You stare at your phone screen until it turns black, and sigh. Quinn finishes his phone call and stares at you, blue, fond eyes looking at you with care.

“I guess you heard the same thing as me.” He says and you nod.

“They’re not coming.”

“And neither are my parents,” he sighs. “They’re stuck in their hotel. They’re not letting people leave.”

“God, this sucks,” you grunt, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “We don’t even have food. My sister was supposed to pick it up after she finished her shift but…”

“I’m sure I can figure something out,” Quinn says and you can tell he’s trying to sound positive. “Come on, stop pouting.”

You frown. “I wasn’t pouting.”

“Yes, you were,” he smiles. “You do that whenever something doesn’t go your way.”

“I— how do you even know that?” You ask, genuinely amused. He just shrugs and walks back to the kitchen, leaving you and your one hundred thoughts about him alone. “Quinn!”

Dinner goes well. It’s silent and calm, but not in an embarrassing, awkward way. Quinn knows how to cook really well, and his food makes you hold yourself back so you won’t kiss him.

His lips probably taste amazing, just like the rest of him. Sometimes, when your thoughts about how Quinn could make you feel good are too much, you slip your hands under your covers and touch yourself, while imagining your hands are his.

You always feel so deeply embarrassed afterwards, and it takes you a while to convince yourself that you’re not a maniac and getting horny after thinking of your sister’s boyfriend's incredibly hot brother is lowkey expected, because he looks like a God.

You both returned to your bedrooms after the clock hit midnight and you both called your families, with you sleeping in your sister’s room and Quinn sleeping in the spare bedroom.

Although, you haven’t even thought about closing your eyes and going to sleep, because you know you won’t be able to— not when Quinn has been nothing but kind to you the entire night and definitely not when he’s only two doors away from you.

You can feel your body starting to get hot, and you want to shout at it, telling yourself to let it go, because you and Quinn won’t ever be a thing.

You look at the clock sitting on your sister’s bedside table and sigh, reading the late hours. Two thirty-six a.m. and you’re nowhere near Dreamland.

Even though you’re basically at the entrance of Hornyland.

Shaking your head, you get up, deciding to brew some chamomile tea for you, since it always helps you feel sleepier and, hopefully, less horny.

The lukewarm air hits your bare thighs and you’re reminded that you’re not wearing any pants— just one of your sister’s oversized sweaters and panties.

You look around the dark house, watching as snow continues to fall outside, and make your way to the kitchen, walking past Quinn’s closed door and trying not to make any sound.

And you would’ve been successful with your task, if it weren’t for the one plastic cup that fell out of the cupboard when you tried to grab your sister’s kettle.

It fell on the floor and bounced three times before you managed to grab it again. You waited to see if you would hear Quinn’s door open, but since you didn’t, you moved on with your task. While you waited for your water to boil, you leaned against your sister’s island, resting your chin in your hand.

“I thought you were asleep.”

This time, you don’t hold back the yelp that comes out of your mouth. You were so worried about waking Quinn up that you hadn’t considered the fact that he, just like you, might as well not have been able to sleep.

He’s sitting on your sister’s couch, wearing sweatpants and nothing else, looking at you with an indecipherable expression. His entire body is illuminated by the moonlight, and he looks gorgeous.

“Quinn. You scared me,” you put your hand over your heart, feeling your cheeks warm when you realize the movement made your sweater go up, and now Quinn probably saw your underwear. “Uh—”

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” he gets up, and he does look apologetic. He gets closer to where you were standing and you can help but take a take back. “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head. “No. You?”

“I can’t either,” he says. “Too many thoughts.”

You desperately want to ask him what kind of thoughts are keeping him away from his bed, but you remember that it isn’t your place. And the best thing you can do for yourself right now is stay away from him.

“I— I’ll leave you to it then—”

“Why are you always running away from me?”

His serious tone makes you stop. You look up and stare at his eyes, looking like a child who had just been caught eating sweets before dinner.

Your answer is only natural: “I’m not?”

“Yes, you are,” he steps closer, and the distance between the two of you is now shorter. “Did I do something?”

“What?” you gasp. “No, of course not!”

“Then, you just don’t like me?”

“Gosh, why is it with the Hughes that you’re always so straightforward?” you mumble, frustrated. “I promise you, nothing’s wrong.”

“Is it because you want me to fuck you?” He raises his brow and you almost drop dead in front of him.

“What.”

It’s almost comical how your eyes double in size and how your mouth opens, just like in the cartoons. You’re trying really hard not to pack your things and leave, because you’re sure something possessed Quinn.

“I’m not dumb, y’know,” he starts. “I can tell when someone’s interested in me, and you aren’t exactly subtle.”

“Quinn—”

“At first,” he continues, paying you no mind. “I thought you were just shy. Then, I realized you only acted that way with me, but I thought you just didn’t like me. But…”

He lifts his hand up and caresses your cheek, the touch making you shiver instantly.

“Would someone who doesn’t like me stare at me like you do?” He keeps touching your face, the light feather touches barely there, but keeping you restless anyway. “It’s so sweet when you blush like that.”

“Quinn…” you try, once again. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I—”

“Uncomfortable?” he chuckles, like the word alone is enough to make him laugh. “No, sweetheart, you made me hard.”

You blush, thankful that the moonlight isn’t enough to show your red cheeks. “O-Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” he smiles, lifting your face just slightly with his thumb on your chin. “Can I kiss you, Y/n?”

I thought you’d never ask, you think. “Yes,” is what you say.

His lips taste like peppermint and his touch on your skin feels like fire. He presses your body against the counter, the cold marble hitting the back of your naked thighs and making you shiver.

It was a pleasant contrast, though: the warmth of his hands holding you close with the coldness of the stone making you shiver.

He kissed you fervently and you moaned inside his mouth, forgetting your shyness and running your fingers through his silky, soft hair. It was like opening presents on Christmas morning, because ever since you were a teenager you’ve been wanting to get your hands on him and now—

“You were right,” you say, breathless. Quinn tilts his head to the side, confused. “I want you to f-fuck me.”

He smirks, mischievously, and it’s probably one of the hottest things you have ever seen.

“Here?” he asks, chuckling.

“No,” you laugh. “My sister would kill me.”

“Mhm.” It’s all he says before picking you up once again, manhandling you however he wanted for the second time in less than twenty-four hours.

His bed is untouched when he lays you on it, a clear signal that he hadn’t even laid on it yet. Your sweater rode up, leaving your belly and your panties exposed.

Even though you’re not the type of girl to get embarrassed while having sex, you can feel your cheeks getting warm under Quinn’s lustful gaze. You have imagined this situation so many times before but you never actually thought your dreams would come true, so all of this is still hard for you to take in.

“I can actually hear your brain thinking, Y/n,” Quinn chuckles, standing in front of you. The outline of his dick is so noticeable it has your mouth dry.

“It’s not everyday your crush of years take you to bed,” you let out, only realising what you had just said when you watch his eyebrow going up, and a malicious smile decorate his beautiful face. “I mean—”

“Trust me, Y/n, if I hadn’t spent the last year thinking you hated me, you would’ve ended up in my bed from the moment I laid my eyes on you.”

He leans forward, then starts to pull your panties down. It’s embarrassing to say the least because you know that the fabric which was once pearly, cotton white, is now transparent and ruined. Quinn doesn’t seem to mind that— in fact, the smirk on his face just continues to grow.

“You have such a pretty pussy, baby,” he says, and you almost choke on your own spit. “Been thinking about you for so long I’m half convinced this is just another dream.”

He drops your underwear somewhere, and places his index finger between your wet folds, the cold touch contrasting with your hotness. He rubs, up and down, slowly and steady. It has you biting your lips, hard.

“Was it like that with you too, Y/n?” he asks, tone one octave deeper. “Endless dreams of how I would fuck you senseless, leave you wet and whimpering in my sheets, pussy dripping with my cum.”

He kept getting closer to your clit each time he opened his mouth to talk, but he still wasn’t touching it, which was starting to frustrate you.

“Quinn—”

“I’d always wake up hard, with my dick throbbing inside my pants, and you know what I’d do?”

He places his finger on your engorged clit, but doesn’t do anything, just— waits.

“Ask me what I would do, Y/n.” He orders, and you moan before complying.

“What, ah, what would you do?” you ask, and he starts moving his finger again. “Ah.”

“I’d fuck my hand. Wrap my dick around them, holding it tightly, imagining it was your cunt squeezing me like that,” he confesses, opening your legs more, leaving you spread in front of him like you’re nothing but a cheap whore. “And I’d come so hard, imagining I was filling you up. In the next morning, I’d shake hands with you, watching you give me that sweet smile of yours, not even knowing that I had just used it to touch myself while imagining it was you.”

He pressed two fingers on your hole, making you clench around nothing while he seemed to be having fun with your struggle.

“Was it like that with you, too?” he asks again, but you can tell by his reaction that he wasn’t expecting you to answer. Yet, you do it anyway.

“N-not dreams,” you breathe, as he inserts two of his fingers inside you, blue eyes never leaving yours. “When I couldn’t sleep, I’d, ah, touch myself, and pretend it was you.”

“Yeah?” he hums, sinking his fingers deeper inside you, the wet sound of sex leaving you dizzy. “Such a naughty, little slut.”

You moan, and Quinn stops holding back as he starts finger fucking you, finding your sweet spot and curling his fingers up until he had you trashing under him. You took pride in knowing your body and mastering the art of touching yourself, but not even in your wildest dreams you’d imagine that having something inside you could feel this good.

You’re not even holding back your sounds, you just let Quinn hear how insane he drives you, and good you’re feeling. You have your eyes closed— because holding eye contact with Quinn might be too much for you to handle— and your boobs exposed, since your sweater rode all the way up.

You can feel your orgasm starting to build up and just when you’re about to warn Quinn about it, he pulls his fingers back, making you cry, loudly.

“Wha— why?” you sound needy and desperate but you pay it no mind.

Quinn smiles, so sweet and kind that you wouldn’t even imagine what came out of his mouth afterwards.

“You’ll come on my cock tonight, sweetheart. I’ll make sure of it.”

The rest of what happens is basically history.

He removes his sweatpants and his dick hits his stomach, the tip almost purple with how red it was. The precum leaking from it made you lick your lips, imagining how good it would feel to have that in your mouth.

He throws the pants somewhere, and lays on top of you, right in the middle of your spread thighs. He looks down and holds his dick, rubbing it up and down on your folds, mixing your wetness with his, and just the view is almost enough to make you come.

He rubs the tip on your clit, and you watch as your swollen, needy button throbs under the nasty touch, and how your pussy leaves his dick glistening with how wet you were.

“I’ll fuck you now, okay?” His voice is calm, and soft, different from previously. You nod, smiling shyly. “Words, baby.”

“‘Mkay,” you answer, closing your eyes as he inserts himself inside you, slowly.

You can feel your walls opening up for him, and even though you’ve had sex before, nothing will ever top this. He’s thick, and you can feel him everywhere, deeper and deeper.

“Holy shit, Quinn,” you say, turning your hands into fists.

“You’re so fucking tight, baby,” he hisses, putting his hands on each side of your face. “Squeezing me so good, fuck, Y/n, I might come in seconds if you keep squeezing me like that.”

He removes his dick from you, leaving just the tip, only to slam it back in you, fucking you senseless, just like he told you. The smell of sex and sweat filled the room almost as quick as the tears fell from your eyes, the feeling of finally getting what— or who— you wanted making you cry tears of joy.

He kept fucking you, and once his lips found yours once again, you knew you were done. You came on his dick, like he said you’d do, moaning inside his mouth and pulling his hair, harshly.

“Fuck, Quinn, uh,” you inhaled his scent as his naked body engulfed yours completely. “Fuck, fuck.”

“It’s like you were made to, uh, take my cock,” he grunts, his thrusts getting sloppier, a clear sign that he was about to come. “Say it, baby, tell me what you were made for.”

“Quinn—”

“Say it, sweetheart,” he whispers.

“I was made to take y-your cock,” you sob. “O-only yours.”

“Only mine?” you can hear the amusement in his voice.

“Only yours.”

“Good,” thrust, “Girl.” Thrust.

He takes his dick out of you just a few seconds before he comes, and the loss of it makes you whimper and hide your face in his neck. The warm feeling of his come against your used, swollen cunt is enough to get another orgasm out of you, even if a little bit weaker this time.

You both stay silent, only the sounds of your breaths filling up the room. The weight of his body on top of you is comforting, and even though you know he’s not putting all of his weight on top of you, you feel safe either way.

“Thank you,” you mumble, barely audible, since your face is still in his neck.

He chuckles, breathless. “What are you saying thank you for, baby? I should be the one saying thank you.”

“You just made all of my wet dreams come true,” you explain. “Even if we’re probably going to hell because no one should be having sex on Christmas.”

Quinn laughs and rolls to the side, resting his head on the pillow. “Touché, sweetheart, touché,” he turns his head to the side and looks at you. “Merry Christmas, Y/n.”

You smile. “Merry Christmas, Quinny.”

© property of lovecla, nhl masterlist.

[wdwbabes]

ultimate girl boss ⎜l.hughes

pairings: luke hughes x afab!reader genre: romance ⎜smut ⎜ strangers-to-lovers? ⎜ warnings: mentions of alcohol ⎜oral (f!recieving) ⎜ use of pet names (princes) ⎜ kitchen sex ⎜ one night stand ⎜fingering ⎜ p in v ⎜luke is a bit of a dork ⎜ he falls first and he falls harder ⎜size kink...kinda? ⎜mentions of pain with sex ⎜both luke and the reader love the miscommunication trope ⎜ short and sweet tbh ⎜ synopsis: you know you shouldn't have slept with a player, but it's not like you'd really see him again, right? word count: 7.7k authors note:  this was a top contender in my what to finish next poll so I hope you all enjoy!!

(unedited)

“I want to thank everyone for being here tonight — and want to say I’m sure we’re all excited to kick off our first ever staff and players halloween party.” Your friend says into the mic, everyone letting out cheers in response, “I know we usually have seperate parties but this year we want the staff and players to really get to know each other and what better way to do that then by getting completely hammered with each other.” He says says letting out a soft cheer when the rest of the room stays quiet, the hushed chuckle here and there. “Anyway I hope everyone has fun and please remember an open bar doesn’t mean you can damage property, I’m looking at you Timo.” You clap slowly as your friend climbs down from his spot on the bar table, his cheeks flushed a bright red as he joins you in leaning against the bar. 

“That felt awkward — did it look awkward?” He asks slowly, accepting the beer bottle from the bar tender with a grimace. 

“It did look awkward.” You agree, taking a sip of your lemonade reaching over to pat his hand softly in reassurance, “Dawson everyone loves you because you’re awkward so don’t think too much about it.” Dawson perks up as one of his teammates calls his name, bounding away from the bar his hair fanning out from under his cap.  You’re still smiling to yourself when someone slides into the spot Dawson left open.

“You really sticking to lemonade all night?” a familiar voice says, smooth and amused, cutting through the music and chatter around you. You glance sideways — and there he is. Luke Hughes. In a bright green shirt, overalls, and a little green hat with a giant “L” on it. Luigi. Of course.

You can’t help but laugh. “I don’t know if I’m more surprised you’re dressed as Luigi or that Jack actually agreed to be Mario.”

Luke’s grin is boyish and crooked, the kind of grin that makes trouble look like a good idea. “Trust me, it wasn’t easy. Took a week of convincing and a few beers.”

“And here I thought sibling pressure only worked on younger brothers.”

He leans an elbow on the bar, watching you with a playful glint in his eye. “Oh, it definitely works both ways. Besides, you can’t be Mario without Luigi. We’re a package deal.”

“Cute,” you say, taking a sip of your drink. “I’m sure jack’s girlfriend thinks the same.” You tease, both of you glancing over at the tall blonde dressed as Princess Peach, the girl sticking close to her boyfriend’s side as he mingles with his teammates. “You didn’t want to stick with you ‘package deal’?” 

Luke smirks, tapping a finger against the bar. “Jack likes to wander off — probably challenging someone to a drinking game.”

“Sounds about right.” You pause, letting your eyes sweep over him. “So, what? You decided to make rounds as everyone’s favourite sidekick?”

His smile widens. “Who says I’m a sidekick?”

You arch a brow. “You are Luigi.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m just here to rescue Princess Peach,” he teases, leaning in a little, you shoot a questioning gaze over to his brothers girlfriend. 

“She does look like she needs saving.” 

He shakes his head with a smile as his voice lowers, playful but laced with something that makes your heart skip. “Or maybe I’m here to make sure someone’s getting to know the players, like Dawson said.”

Your pulse jumps at his proximity, but you keep your cool. “So, I’m the metaphorical Peach in this scenario?”

Luke’s eyes flicker with amusement, lingering on yours for a beat too long. “Would that be so bad?”

You tilt your head, pretending to consider. “Hmm. I don’t know. I’ve always been more of a Toad kind of girl.”

He laughs, shaking his head, the sound warm and genuine. “Yeah? I can see that.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Luke raises both hands in mock surrender, still grinning. “Nothing. Just that you’d make a pretty cute Peach, too.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no hiding your smile. “Is this how you plan to win me over? Bad Mario references?”

“Is it working?”

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you finish your drink, set the glass on the bar, and meet his gaze head-on.

“Maybe.”

His grin sharpens. “Then I guess I’ll keep going.”

You let the word hang between you for a beat, the teasing lilt of your voice lingering in the air. Luke watches you, his grin never quite fading, a flicker of curiosity sparking in his dark eyes. The party buzzes on around you both—music pulsing, laughter spilling from groups of people in costumes, but none of it seems to matter right now.

“So,” he says, tapping his knuckles lightly on the bar, “you planning on heading out early, or are you here for the long haul?” You glance around the room, spotting Dawson across the way engaged in an animated conversation with another teammate. A few more familiar faces pass by, offering smiles and nods, but your attention drifts back to Luke almost immediately.

“Honestly?” You shrug, a casual, playful expression crossing your face. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Luke leans in a little closer, elbows resting on the bar. “What would it take to convince you to stick around?”

You give him a slow, considering look, letting the question settle in your mind before answering. “Depends. What’s in it for me?”

He laughs, low and soft, shaking his head. “That’s a dangerous question.”

“Maybe I like danger.”

Luke’s gaze lingers, his smile never wavering. “Alright. What if I promised to make it worth your while?”

You raise an eyebrow, amusement flickering across your face. “Big promises from Luigi.”

“I deliver on my promises.” He pauses, his voice dropping slightly, a teasing edge in his tone. “Especially when it comes to rescuing princesses.”

The playful banter between you feels like a dance, each word carefully chosen, each glance lingering just a fraction too long. There’s a buzz in the air—a tension that neither of you seems in a rush to break.

“Alright, Luigi,” you say, setting your empty glass down on the bar. “Convince me.” Luke doesn’t take long to whisk you to the dance floor, the lanky man awkwardly moving his limbs along yours, the smile lighting up his face convincing others to join in, the dance floor filling up quickly. 

Luke’s hands stay linked with yours as he spins you around, twisting your bodies totally off beat, “White girl dancing is my favourite.” He yells over the music, his movements mimicking the slow, seductive sways of a sorority girl. 

“I can tell.” You laugh, your eye catching Dawson’s over the crowd as he pumps his eyebrows in knowing, your shoulders shrugging as you lose yourself back in the feeling of Luke’s god awful dancing. 

It’s two hours before you pull yourself away from the crowd, Luke following behind you like a lost puppy as you reach the bar, skulling the glass of water the bartender offers you. “So, have I convinced you to stay?” Luke smiles, leaning against the counter as he accepts his own glass of water. 

“I suppose.” You smile, placing your empty glass back on the table as you rifle through your purse for your keys. You glance up at Luke his face dropping as you watches you gather your stuff, your witch hat sitting on the bar as you check you have all your belongings. 

“I guess my convincing wasn’t good enough.” He sighs, trying to keep a light smile on his face so you can’t see the disappointment in his eyes. Luke was having fun, finally being able to seperate himself from his brother, he thought you were having fun too - the pretty girl from the head offices finally letting loose all because cause of the borderline frat boy dressed as Luigi. 

But clearly he was wrong. 

“I guess I’ll see you around.” He says, watching as you tilt your head, your brows furrowing as you chew on your bottom lip. 

“Wow, didn’t know you wanted to get rid of me so quickly.” You tease, reaching up for the collar of his costume pulling him down until his ear is level with your mouth, “I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me.” You whisper, Luke’s spine straightening quickly, his eyes locking with yours in surprise. “Guess I know where you stand now, Luigi.” You sigh dramatically, making the move to turn and walk out when his hand latches to your wrist. 

“Wait…Wait…” He stutters, his brows still pinched in confusion, “You want me to come home with you?” 

You quirk a brow, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. "Why else would I ask? To play Mario Kart?" Luke looks momentarily stunned, his hand tightening slightly around your wrist before he catches himself and lets go, running a hand through his messy hair beneath the green cap. He swallows hard, the playful confidence from earlier faltering just a little, replaced by something more raw, more unsure.

Maybe he wasn’t wrong after all. 

“I—I didn’t think…” He trails off, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your mouth and back again, as if trying to gauge if you're serious or just messing with him.

You lean in again, your voice soft but unmistakably deliberate. "What, you didn’t think I’d actually be interested?" His lips part slightly, but no words come out. The party noise seems to fade into the background — the music, the laughter, the clinking of glasses all muffling under the pounding of your heart in your ears.

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been watching me tonight,” you say, your voice low but steady, your eyes locked on his.

“And I’m not blind, Luke. You’ve been flirting since the second you walked over here in that ridiculous costume.”

His cheeks flush a deep pink, but that boyish, crooked grin of his creeps back onto his face. “Maybe I have.”

“And maybe I don’t want the night to end just yet,” you say, your fingers brushing against his arm, trailing down until your hand rests lightly on his wrist again. The tension is thick now — electric and undeniable. Luke steps in closer, closing the space between you. His voice drops to a low murmur, just for you. 

“If I say yes, I’m not just coming over for coffee.”

You bite back a grin, eyes flickering to his lips before meeting his gaze again. “Good. I don’t even have coffee at home.” That does it — the playful edge in his grin gives way to something hungrier, more intense. His hand finds your hip, fingers pressing lightly through the fabric of your dress. 

“I’ve never liked coffee anyway.” The air between you hums with anticipation, both of you lingering in that charged moment, knowing exactly what’s coming but savouring the tension for just a little longer.

“Come on, Luigi,” you whisper, stepping back and tugging him toward the door. “Time to see if you really deliver on your promises.” Luke follows without hesitation, his hand still wrapped around yours, the warmth of his palm grounding you both in the moment. As you weave through the crowd, you catch Dawson’s wide-eyed expression from across the room. He mouths what the fuck? at you, but you just flash him a grin over your shoulder. Outside, the cool night air hits your skin, but you barely notice. Luke’s presence next to you, the way his fingers tighten around yours, the way his arm brushes against yours as you walk to your car — it’s all-consuming.

“So,” he says after a beat, voice lighter now but still laced with that playful tension. “Does this mean I’m officially more than just a sidekick?”

You glance up at him as you unlock your car, the smirk on your lips teasing but your gaze soft. “Depends.”

“On what?”

You step in closer, your body nearly pressed against his. “On how well you play the hero.”

Luke leans down, his face inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m pretty sure I can pull it off.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” It’s all the invitation he needs. His hands cup your face as he closes the gap, his lips finding  yours with a mix of urgency and sweetness that leaves you breathless. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing — just the two of you, completely lost in each other.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathless, his forehead resting against yours.

“Better than Mario Kart?” he whispers, his voice rough and a little unsteady.

You laugh softly, fingers curling into the fabric of his overalls to keep him close. “Much better.”

Luke grins, his eyes dark with desire but softened by something more genuine beneath it all. “Good. Because I’m not done rescuing you yet.”

You press one more lingering kiss to his lips before stepping back and opening the car door. “Then let’s get out of here, hero.” As he climbs into the passenger seat, pulling the ridiculous green hat off and tossing it into the backseat with a chuckle, you can’t help but think that maybe — just maybe — this Halloween party wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Luke settles into the passenger seat, stretching his long legs out with a playful groan. His hair is a mess from the hat, sticking up in every direction, and he looks ridiculously good like that — a little wild, a little disheveled. You catch him watching you as you adjust the rearview mirror, his grin lopsided and lazy, the kind of smile that makes your pulse race.

“You’ve got that look on your face again,” you say, glancing at him as you start the car.

“What look?”

“That ‘what the fuck is happening’ look.”

Luke laughs, low and warm, running a hand through his hair to smooth it down. “I can’t believe this is happening, to be fair.” His voice low as he adds, “The ultimate girl boss is inviting me home — maybe I will have to thank Dawson for the party idea.”

"Don't call me that." you say as you roll your eyes, but there’s no denying the butterflies in your stomach. As you pull out of the parking lot, the conversation flows easily. Luke teases you about your driving — “Are you always this aggressive behind the wheel, or is this just a Halloween thing?” — and you fire back with playful jabs about his costume. The sexual tension from the party hasn’t faded; if anything, it’s simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to boil over.

When you reach your apartment, Luke follows you up the stairs, his fingers brushing yours as you unlock the door. The quiet click of the door shutting behind you seems to amplify the tension in the air.

“So, this is it?” he says, glancing around your cozy living room. He looks a little out of place in the Luigi costume, but there’s something endearing about it — like he doesn’t care how ridiculous he looks.

“This is it,” you say, kicking off your shoes and setting your keys on the counter. “Make yourself at home.” Luke takes his time wandering through the space, his fingers trailing over the back of your couch, his gaze flicking to the framed photos on the wall. When he turns back to you, there’s a softness in his expression, but his eyes are still dark with something more.

“You weren’t kidding about the no coffee thing,” he says, peering into the kitchen.

“Told you.”

He steps closer, his footsteps quiet on the hardwood floor. “So, what do you have?”

You lean against the counter, tilting your head. “Depends. What are you in the mood for?”

Luke’s lips twitch into a grin as he closes the distance between you. “I think you already know.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding as he stops in front of you, so close that you can feel the warmth radiating off him. His hands find the counter on either side of you, effectively caging you in.

“You’ve been driving me crazy all night,” he says softly, his voice low and rough. “I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it or if you were actually interested.”

Your fingers curl around the edge of the counter, your breath catching. “What do you think?”

Luke’s gaze drops to your mouth, lingering for a beat before meeting your eyes again. “I think I’m done guessing.”

His lips are on yours before you can respond, the kiss slow and deliberate, like he’s savouring the taste of you. His hands move to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you let yourself melt into him, your fingers tangling in his hair. The kiss deepens, your bodies pressed together, and you lose yourself in the feeling of his hands exploring your back, his lips trailing down your jaw to your neck. Every touch, every kiss, feels like a spark igniting something inside you.

“Luke…” His name slips from your lips in a breathless whisper, and he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. “I hope to god you know how to take a corset off.” Luke’s soft laugh captures your breath as his hands spin your around till you face the counter. 

“One thing about hockey players is we’re good with laces.” He says quietly, making quick work of undoing the ribbon on the back of your corset, letting the faux leather fall off your body once the laces are loose enough, your dress sitting over your frame loosely as Luke’s hands run up your sides. 

“Do you want me to show you something else that hockey players are good at?” Luke asks softly, his lips skimming just under your ear as you nod. Luke moving your quickly as he spins you back around the face him, leaning forwards to capture your lips in a quick kiss before dropping to his knees in front of you, his hands pulling the fabric over your dress up to your waist, motion for you to grip it with your own hands. 

“I need you to stay still for me, Princess.” He coos, his fingers linking in the waistband of your panties before dragging them down your legs, his hands slowly reaching up to rub against the soft skin of your thighs, the plush flesh tensing under his touch. He leans forwards swiping a tentative lick against you, his eyes turned up to yours, watching you as your eyes fall closed, your hands gripping the fabric of your dress for dear life. Happy with your reaction he delves forwards, his tongue pressing flat against you as his nose bumps against your swelling clit. His hands trail softly up the backs of your thighs, over your ass until they sit comfortably on your hips. 

You whimper as he pulls your cunt firmer against his face, his head moving as his tongue circles around your clit, teasing before he sucks the bud into his mouth. “Fuck.” You curse, your back curving against the counter until your resting on your elbows, your head thrown back.. You can feel Lukes’s crooked grin against you as one of his hand drops to lift your thigh, draping the limb over his shoulder opening you up further for him. Luke’s movements become quicker, more feverish as his tongue dips inside you for just a moment before licking back up to your clit. 

“Are fingers allowed, princess?” He questions softly, as he pulls his face away from your cunt much to your dismay, his eyes teasing as you nod quickly, your lip trapped between your teeth as he slides one finger between your folds, gathering any juices he could before slowly pushing the single digit inside of you. 

“God, I can feel how desperate you are.” He coos as you clench around his single finger, a loud branch snapping outside of the shed making you jump, his finger sliding out of you slightly before sliding back in to the third knuckle, Luke chuckling as he presses a kiss against the thigh hanging over his shoulder. “Surprised?” He questions. 

You barely getting a chance to respond, as he sucks your clit sharply releasing it with a grin as you let out a low whine as he presses his thumb harshly against your clit, his fingers calling at just the right time, your cunt clenching so forcefully he lets out a surprised laugh. He pauses his movements for a moment, watching the way you pant as you come down from your orgasm, whispering his name. 

“Jesus, Luke.”

“Don’t praise me yet.” He whispers as he slides your leg off his shoulder, slowly rising to his full height as he towers over you, pushing you further against the counter, “I’m not finished with you.” Luke spins you for the third time of the night, your hands bracing against the counter as you pant, Luke snatching your dress from your hands as he pulls it up and over your head, your breasts falling free as he presses you against the cold kitchen counter. 

“You’re stunning.” He murmurs as his hands make quick work of unbuttoning his overalls, letting them fall to the ground as he steps out of them, your breaths coming faster as you feel his body pressing against yours. His hands slide over your waist, tracing the curve of your hips, before gripping firmly. He’s warm, solid, and the intensity in his gaze when you glance back at him is enough to set your skin ablaze.

Luke leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, voice husky and teasing. “You sure you’re ready for this, Princess?”

You nod, pushing back against him slightly, your body arching into his touch. “I wouldn’t have invited you here if I wasn’t.”

He groans softly, his hands steadying you as he presses a line of kisses along your shoulder and down your back, his lips trailing fire over your skin. His movements are purposeful but unhurried, each touch and kiss designed to build the anticipation thrumming between you. When you feel the tip of his arousal teasing against your entrance, your breath hitches, and he pauses, his fingers tightening on your hips.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your skin.

You turn your head slightly, meeting his eyes over your shoulder. “I’ll let you know.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pushes into you, both of you gasping at the sensation. He fills you completely, stretching you in a way that’s almost overwhelming but impossibly good. Your eyes squeeze shut as you let out a harsh breath, Luke pausing once he’s fully seated, giving you a moment to adjust, his hand smoothing over your lower back in silent reassurance.

“You okay?” He asks softly, his lips pressing gently to your neck as he waits for you to relax, your pussy squeezing him as you nod your head slowly, letting it drop against the counter. 

“I just need a second.” You hiss, “It always hurts at first.” You add, focusing on your breathing and relaxing your pelvis as Luke tilts his head in confusion, his hands still rubbing against you tenderly. 

“Do you want me to pull out?” He asks carefully, unsure how to help as you adjust a little more, a relieved sigh leaving you as you glance over your shoulder to smile at him. 

“You can move.” You assure him. Luke nods slowly, his movements careful as he puts out and pushes back in, the pain shifting deep in the pit of your stomach as you let out a soft moan. 

“You feel…” he starts, his voice thick with restraint. “Perfect.” You can barely respond, your mind hazy with the pleasure coursing through you. When he starts moving, it’s slow and steady, each thrust measured and deliberate. He watches your reactions closely, the way your body responds to him, the soft sounds that escape your lips.

“Luke,” you whisper, your fingers gripping the edge of the counter for support as he quickens his pace. His name on your lips seems to spur him on, his rhythm becoming more urgent, his grip on your hips firm but not painful. The tension between you builds with every movement, the sensation almost too much to bear. He leans forward, his chest engulfing you as he presses against your back as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you upright. The new angle has you crying out, your head falling back against his shoulder as he buries his face in your neck, his lips and teeth teasing your skin.

“God, you feel so good,” he murmurs, his voice a mix of awe and desire. “You’re incredible.”

The praise only heightens the sensations coursing through you, your body trembling as you feel yourself nearing the edge. He seems to sense it, his movements becoming even more focused, his free hand sliding down to where your bodies are joined to circle your sensitive clit.

“Come for me,” he urges, his voice low and rough. “I want to feel you.” It’s all you need. The coil of pleasure tightens and then snaps, waves of bliss crashing over you as you cry out his name, your body tightening around him. He follows shortly after, his pace faltering as he lets out a low groan, his grip on you tightening as he finds his release.

For a moment, neither of you moves, your breaths mingling as you both come down from the high. Luke presses a kiss to your shoulder, his touch suddenly gentle as he leans against you. Luke places one more kiss to your shoulder, before standing up, your body seeming to melt further into the counter as he pulls out - your body cringing as it tries to adjust to the feeling. You take a few more breaths as you listen to Luke pull off the condom and walk across the room to place it in the bin. 

Luke leans against the counter, his hands gripping the edge as if it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. His overalls hang low on his hips, his green shirt untucked and rumpled. He hasn’t said much since pulling away, and now the silence between you feels heavy, like a weight pressing against your chest.

You finish slipping your dress back over your head, your fingers fidgeting with the hem as you glance his way. He’s watching you out of the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable but not indifferent. You can tell there’s something he wants to say, but he doesn’t. Instead, he clears his throat and straightens up, his hands disappearing into his pockets.

"I should probably get going," he says softly, his voice careful, like he’s testing the words out loud.

The tightness in your chest sharpens. You knew this moment was coming—the logical end to what just happened—but it still hits you harder than you expected. You hesitate, watching as he takes a small step toward the door.

"Wait," you blurt out, your voice louder than you intended. He stops immediately, turning to face you, his brow furrowing.

"Yeah?" he asks, and you can hear the note of uncertainty in his voice.

Your heart pounds as you scramble to find the right words, suddenly feeling exposed in a way that has nothing to do with your now-rumpled dress. "You don’t… you don’t have to go," you say quickly, stumbling over the words. "I mean, it’s late, and…"

Luke’s eyes widen slightly, and you can see something flicker across his face—relief? Hope? He blinks, and his lips part like he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t. You push on, needing to fill the silence.

"You could stay," you continue, your cheeks flushing. "If you want to. I mean, it’s just… it’s late, and I drove you here anyway—“

"I’d like that," he interrupts, his voice soft but firm.

You stop mid-ramble, staring at him. "You would?"

Luke nods, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He takes a step closer, his hands still buried in his pockets. "Yeah," he says quietly. "I didn’t really want to leave, anyway."

The admission makes your stomach flip, and you glance down, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Okay," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "You can stay."

He watches you for a moment longer, his gaze warm and steady, before he nods again. "Thanks," he says simply, but there’s a weight behind the word that makes your chest tighten in a different way.

You gesture toward the bedroom, your throat dry as you try to keep your voice casual. "Uh, the bed’s big enough… if you’re okay with sharing." Luke’s eyebrows lift slightly, and for a second, you wonder if you’ve made things weird. But then he smiles—soft and genuine—and the tension in your chest eases.

"I’m okay with that," he says, his voice light but sincere.

You nod, turning toward the bedroom. "Okay. I’ll just… get things sorted."

As you step into the room, Luke follows, his footsteps quiet on the hardwood floor. You pull back the covers, smoothing them out as if that will somehow make you feel less nervous. When you glance over your shoulder, he’s standing by the doorway, hesitating.

"You sure?" he asks, his voice quieter now.

You meet his gaze and manage a small smile. "Yeah," you say softly. "I’m sure." That seems to be all the reassurance he needs. He steps inside, pulling off his overalls completely and leaving them in a heap on the floor. His green shirt is next to go, his unsurprisingly toned chest making you swallow heavily,  only left in his boxers now, and somehow, the casualness of it makes you feel less self-conscious.

You both climb into the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. For a few moments, neither of you speaks, lying side by side with a cautious amount of space between you. But then, slowly, Luke shifts closer, his arm brushing yours.

"Thanks for asking me to stay," he murmurs, his voice so low it’s almost a whisper. You turn your head to look at him, your face so close to his that you can see the faint freckles scattered across his nose. 

"I didn’t really want you to leave," you admit quietly.

His lips curve into a soft smile, and he reaches out, his fingers brushing yours under the blanket. "Good," he says, his voice warm. "Because I really didn’t want to."

The two of you end up tangled in each other throughout the night, Lukes arm draped over your waist as he drags you across the mattress to press against him, his face tucked into your neck as your relax into the warmth of his chest. 

When you wake up the warmth is gone, the mattress is empty and a small post it note sits on the pillow besides you. 

‘I had fun last night, had to leave early for practice, sorry.’ 

The cold sheets isn’t a surprise as you throw the note across the room, Luke doing exactly you expected the hot shot hockey player to do. 

+

+

“I can’t believe we have to do another company get together.” You huff as you readjust your hair in it’s ponytail for the tenth time, Dawson bouncing besides you in excitement. “And a hike? Who do they think we are? Athletes?” You continue your frown deepening as you watch the tall, curly haired hockey player interact with one of your colleagues a few metres away, his smile lighting up the group around him. 

“Well some of us are athletes.” Dawson teases as he bumps his shoulder into yours, his gaze following yours, a mischievous grin breaking out across his face. “It’s been three months since the halloween party, I think we’re overdue for an outing.” Dawson starts slowly, your gaze flicking over to him, the small cogs in your brain turning as you feel the panic begin to set in. 

“Dawson, don’t you dare.” But he’s already gone, stepping up onto a big rock as he calls attention to himself. 

“I thought it might be good for each of us players to pair up with one of our lovely office workers to really get the full effect of the company bonding.” He suggests, your heart dropping to your stomach as everyone quickly agrees, already spreading themselves out as each player finds someone to team up with, your boss quickly snatching Dawson off his rock as you watch the curly haired man’s blue-green eyes meet yours. 

“Thank me later.” Dawson coos as he starts up the mountain, his arm linked with your boss’s as they ramble as they walk. 

“I’m going to kill that man in his slee— oh hey Luke.” 

“Hey, I um… noticed you didn’t have a partner?” He says, well questions, his brows pinched tight as he studies your body, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, you gaze anywhere but on him. Luke motions for you to start following the rest of your colleagues up the trail before quickly matching your pace, walking besides you easily with his long legs. 

The cool spring air brushes against your skin as you step onto the trail, the sound of chatter and boots hitting the dirt path filling the air. The company hike was supposed to be a casual event, a chance to mingle with colleagues, relax, and get away from the office for a few hours. But, as usual, it feels a little more complicated than it should be.

You glance around the small group you’ve been assigned to — everyone seems in high spirits, laughing and chatting, but you can’t help but feel a sense of discomfort. You’ve been quiet, your mind occupied with thoughts that don’t seem to want to let go.

The trail twists up ahead, and you can feel the weight of someone’s gaze on you. When you glance to the side, you see Luke walking beside you, looking every bit the confident, carefree guy he usually is. But today, there's something different about him. He’s watching you with an expression that seems to mix curiosity and confusion. It’s the kind of look you know too well — the one that tells you he’s trying to figure something out, trying to read you, but doesn’t quite know where to start.

You quickly avert your eyes, focusing on the path ahead, pretending to be absorbed in the beauty of the trail. The last thing you want right now is to deal with whatever this... thing is between you two. Whatever it was that happened the night of the Halloween party, whatever moment was shared between you, has left a lingering tension in the air. It’s subtle but undeniable, and the last few months have been filled with an awkward distance you’re both trying (and failing) to navigate.

Luke seems to notice your change in demeanour right away. You can feel the shift in the atmosphere, the way his presence suddenly feels more pronounced. He slows his pace just slightly, a move that draws you out of your own head, and when you glance at him, he’s giving you that familiar, crooked smile.

"So," he says casually, his hands resting loosely in the pockets of his jacket. "You’ve been awfully quiet today. Everything okay?"

You shrug, your eyes ahead as you force your voice to sound casual, "Yeah, just... tired, I guess."

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Uh-huh." He pauses for a moment, then adds, "Because you’re usually pretty chatty on these things." The gentle teasing in his voice stings more than it should, but you keep your expression neutral, refusing to let him see the way his words unsettle you. 

"Guess I’m just not feeling it today,” you reply with a half-smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

You know he doesn’t buy it — Luke’s not an idiot. He’s seen you in better moods, and knows enough about you from all of his desperate attempts at reconnecting with you through Dawson, that he knows enough to notice the shift in your behaviour toward him. 

Ever since that night, things have been... different. After everything that happened between you two, it felt like one of you was always pulling back, unsure of how to move forward. For you, the uncertainty of the night, the chemistry, and the suddenness of it all left you second-guessing yourself. You never really figured out where you stood with him after that.

Luke takes a deep breath, then breaks the silence with another question, his voice more carefully measured this time, "Is this because of... what happened, that night?"

Your heart skips a beat. You stop in your tracks, suddenly feeling like the ground beneath you has shifted. You don’t want to face this. Not here, not now. But you can’t deny that Luke’s words have hit a nerve, and the air between you both grows thick with unspoken tension.

"Don’t..." you begin, but your voice falters before you can finish. You feel exposed, like a part of you that you’ve kept hidden is being laid bare for him to see.

Luke notices the shift instantly. He takes a half step toward you, a small frown pulling at the edges of his mouth. "I didn’t mean to make things weird," he says quietly, his voice softening in that way it does when he’s being sincere. "I just... don’t get it. You’ve been acting different lately, and I’m not sure why. After that night, it felt like... like something happened, and I guess I’ve just been waiting for you to say something."

You bite your lip, feeling the weight of his words settle on your chest. 

He’s right. 

Things have been different. But you’re not sure how to explain it to him, not when everything you’re feeling seems to clash with what’s happening in your head.

"You’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?" His words aren’t accusatory, just observant, and it makes something inside you twist painfully.

You nod, the truth hanging between you both in that awkward silence. You don’t know how to explain the mix of emotions swirling inside you. Part of you wants to laugh it off, pretend it’s nothing, but the other part of you feels the sting of being too close to him and too unsure of where to stand.

Luke takes a step closer, and you can feel the weight of his presence, his eyes not leaving yours. "I didn’t think I’d made you uncomfortable," he says quietly, the tone of his voice softer than usual. "I thought... maybe you had fun. I thought we had fun."

The way he says it, so uncertain, so vulnerable, makes your heart ache. "We did," you reply, barely above a whisper. “You could’ve woken me up before you left, you know?” The words are out of your mouth before you can shove them back in, Luke pausing, his stop forcing you to stop walking as well. 

His mouth drops open as he shoots you a dumbfounded look, “Are you kidding me?” He lets out a shocked laugh before adding, “You didn’t even bother to call me - it’s been three months and you’re holding a grudge because I had to leave early but don’t see anything wrong with you just blatantly ignoring my phone number?” 

“Call you?” Your body almost recoils in shock as you look up at him in confusion. “How was I supposed to call you?” 

Luke looks equally as confused now, his hands perched on his hips as the two of you just stare at each other. “Did you not look on the back of the sticky note?” He asks softly, his face relaxing in understanding as everything seems to click into place. 

You blink at him, still unsure of what he's talking about. “Back of the note?” you echo, your voice unsure, as if you’re not quite processing what he’s saying. You’re trying to piece things together, but it's all so disorienting. This whole conversation feels like a game of telephone gone wrong, and you’ve missed the message completely.

Luke's face softens as if a realisation is dawning on him, a quiet chuckle slipping from his lips as he steps a little closer. “Yeah, you know,” he says, his hands sliding into the pockets of his jacket, “the sticky note I left you the morning after Halloween.” He watches your reaction closely, his eyes flicking from your face to your stiffened posture, noting the way you're not quite meeting his gaze. "I thought it would be pretty obvious..."

You shake your head slowly, heart sinking in your chest. This doesn’t make sense. “I… I didn’t even notice anything on the back.”

Luke tilts his head, eyebrows knitting together as though he's trying to process your words. “Are you serious?” he asks, though not unkindly. He sounds almost amused, but it’s the kind of amusement that’s mixed with a touch of disbelief. You blink, a wave of realisation hitting you, but it doesn’t make things clearer—if anything, it only makes them more confusing. The night of the Halloween party, everything had been a blur after… after what happened between you and Luke. You'd woken up alone, with no trace of him. The only thing you had found was that stupid post it note on your pillow. You’d glanced at it, but in your haze of confusion and disappointment, you had dismissed it as just a random note, trying to rid himself of the guilt of walking out after your night together. You never once thought it would have his number on it.

“I thought you were gone,” you murmur, still not fully understanding. “You just… disappeared. After that night.”Luke’s face softens, his expression shifting from confusion to something quieter, more patient. 

“I didn’t disappear, I just—” He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “I didn’t want to wake you up. You were sleeping, and most people don’t want to wake up at five in the morning, and I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to see me again after everything. So I thought… I thought the note would be enough. I thought you’d get it.”

You feel the blood rush to your face, the weight of misunderstanding suddenly crashing down on you. That note. All these months, you had been carrying the confusion, the anger, the hurt of what you assumed was his rejection. All this time, you’d believed that he had left without a word, leaving you to overthink every moment, to wonder what went wrong, why it all felt so unfinished. But it wasn’t rejection. It was a miscommunication, a simple mistake in the way you both had handled things.

“I never saw it,” you say quietly, the words almost feeling foreign in your mouth. “I thought… I thought you just left. You had got what you wanted and left.” Luke exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair, a small, sheepish laugh escaping him. 

"Well, now I feel like an idiot." He glances down, clearly embarrassed at how the situation has unfolded, and you see the vulnerability in his eyes, the way he’s trying to navigate this, just like you.

“I mean, I should’ve told you,” he continues, his voice softening. “I should’ve woken you up, but I didn’t want to make things awkward if you weren’t interested. I didn’t want to push it if that wasn’t what you wanted.” The words settle between you both, and you feel the air shift, the distance that has been between you for months beginning to dissipate, just a little. The weight in your chest lightens as you finally start to understand what happened, what you both had been too afraid to face, too unsure to talk about.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, the apology slipping from your lips before you can stop it. “I should’ve paid more attention.”

Luke shrugs, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “No need to apologise. It’s just... both of us being kind of ridiculous, isn’t it?” His smile widens, but it’s not the same playful, confident grin you’re used to seeing. It’s more real, more raw. “I thought you were just avoiding me for some reason, and here you were thinking I ghosted you.”

You let out a small laugh, though it’s mixed with a breath of relief. “I guess we were both just avoiding the obvious.”

“Yeah,” Luke agrees, his voice easing with the tension. He takes a small step closer, his eyes locking with yours as he lowers his hands from his pockets. “So, now what?”

The question hangs in the air, and you find yourself looking up at him, the distance between you shrinking with every word you say. You take a deep breath, suddenly realising how much this conversation, how much this moment, has been long overdue. The walls you’ve both built around each other are crumbling, slowly but surely.

“Well,” you begin, trying to gather your thoughts as you look at Luke. He’s standing so close now, and despite the lingering awkwardness, there’s something about him that feels more approachable, more open. "I think... maybe we need to stop assuming things about each other. Because, honestly, I had no idea what you were thinking. And you had no idea what I was thinking. So maybe we should just start from scratch."

Luke’s face lights up, a genuine smile spreading across his face as he nods, his eyes bright with a hint of mischief. "I like that idea. Starting from scratch sounds good to me." For the first time in months, you feel a sense of relief flood your chest, the tension between you two breaking apart. . 

“Yeah,” you reply, returning his smile. “How about we start by you giving me your number?”

Luke laughs, the sound light and easy now. “Sure, let’s take our time. But don’t go ghosting me.”

“No more ghosting,” you agree, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you start walking again, side by side.

As you continue up the trail, the tension that once felt so heavy now seems almost silly. What had felt like an insurmountable distance between you two has suddenly shrunk, and you can’t help but wonder how different things might’ve been if you’d both just taken a moment to talk. But for now, you’re content with where you are — a little wiser, a little closer, and finally ready to leave the past behind.

[wdwbabes]

I am a queen amongst the Romanies. And I too, am unavailable. 

Polly Gray in 5x04 (The Loop)

[wdwbabes]

CRUEL INTENTIONS — Beta (Episode 2) ››› Zac Burgess as Lucien Belmont

[wdwbabes]

I'll apologise because my first thought was a whore thought. | Vancouver Canucks vs TBL Dec 8th | Quinn Hughes

[wdwbabes]

Now what the fuck is this. Vancouver Canucks vs Sabres Nov 29th | Quinn Hughes

[wdwbabes]

i need 2015 luke hemmings

[wdwbabes]

i need someone to write a quinn hughes fic where reader works at the canada tire center and quinn is cursing as he gets ejected from the game on his way to the locker room and sees reader and they get to talking and quinn is so upset reader lets him use her to take his anger out… am i crazy for this

[wdwbabes]

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚_____________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐  

 ⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, lap dance, role play, fingering, oral, unprotected sex, praise, pussy worship, pussydrunk!matt, softdom!matt, exchange of money for sex

✍️ Summary: ✍️ You've started a job at a strip club in your town, and while you're on stage, you notice none other than Matt Sturniolo, a good friend of yours, watching you in the crowd. Neither one of you expected to run into one another here, but he approaches you as a customer and pretends he doesn't know you.

if you're looking for a chris version with a similar storyline, you can read it here 💖

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚_____________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Taste

I had just recently started my job at a local strip club, and because I was new and unsure about how the people in my life would react, I opted out of telling my friends and family about it, so instead I told everyone I got hired at a bar, which wasn't entirely false. We did serve alcohol.

It took me a few weeks to get comfortable dancing in my heels, and a month before my legs weren't sore after every shift. Having been here a little shy of six months, I was making enough money to spend on even sexier lingerie so I could bring in even more tips. I was also learning new tricks on the pole.

I liked my job honestly, and I didn't feel like there were many people who could say that. I liked the work, I liked the women I worked with, I got paid well, and I even liked a lot of the customers. I had fun teasing men and spending my time with them while they gave me money and attention. It was a nice exchange. And I felt like I was genuinely getting to know some of them, even though they weren't exactly getting to know me. I was putting on a persona, and it was usually catered to the person I was servicing at the time, but it's not like it wasn't me. It was just only one aspect of me that I amped up and played heavily into. But I loved it. I loved dressing up and playing a role that was so different from my everyday demeanor and being what these men wanted me to be. In my everyday life, I was reserved, introverted, and kept to myself most of the time, but when I was dancing, I was an exaggerated version of who I was when no one was looking. My fantasies, my sexual desire, an alter ego if you will.

It was almost my time to go on. I reapplied my body glitter and made a few finals tweaks to my outfit. I was wearing a white sparkly corset that pushed my breasts up nicely and a matching thong as well as glass six inch heels. I had my hair down but out of my face and curly. "Give it up for Mary Jane," the announcer came on. I didn't want to use my real name at my work, so I decided on Mary Jane because it was innocent sounding and was also nothing like my real name. 'Taste' by Tyga and Offset played over the speakers, there was a spotlight on me and other lights around me flashed and changed colors, and I seductively strutted towards the pole in front of me, gripping it with one hand and doing a little spin around it. I slowly descended down the pole with my back to it until I was in a squat, looking out at the crowd of men who were eager to see my body and what it could do. I came back up and hooked one of my legs around the pole, doing a ballerina spin around it. I could feel all these eyes on me, and I gained even more confidence as the dollar bills started raining at me feet.

I made eye contact with a few customers I recognized, men who were regulars. Then my gaze scanned across a familiar face that wasn't one I usually saw in this setting. Matt Sturniolo? In a strip club? This was not his scene at all. We were decently close friends, but I certainly hadn't told him I applied here, and I didn't think it was necessary considering I didn't think I'd ever see him here. He appeared to be alone. No one I recognized was near him. And when we made eye contact, he was looking at me some sort of way I'd never been looked at by him before, like he was hungry for me. He had to have recognized me, right? I may look different with my tits pushed up to my chin, but not that different.

I focused my attention back to my dance, manipulating the attention of every man in the room, contorting my body in ways that had every man wishing they were the pole between my legs. I finished my song, collected my ones, tucked them into my corset, and carefully got down from the stage.

Once I looked up from watching my feet as I stepped off the stage, I saw Matt making his way over to me. I was really nervous about what he might say. If he'd be mad that I didn't tell him I was working here or if he'd tease me. Instead, he looked me up and down with his lust-filled blue eyes and licked his lips. "How much for a dance from you?" He asked me, smiling. He couldn't be serious. I hesitated for a second. I had never been put in a position where someone I recognized outside of the club came in and asked me for a dance.

On some level, it felt inappropriate. On another level, it felt like a bad business move to not take him up on it. "$100 for three songs," I responded nonchalantly. He casually took a $100 bill out of his wallet and tucked it into my corset with my other money. I liked the way he did that. Then he grabbed me by the waist and started walking with me towards the back of the club where he could sit down. "So, Mary Jane, did they say?" Matt asked as he sunk into his chair and looked up at me, almost as if studying the way I was gonna respond.

Was he going to pretend he didn't know me? Was this part of the fantasy, acting like we were two strangers who just met in a strip club when we're actually pretty close friends outside of this. I nodded. I turned around and began grinding on him, and he grabbed my waist in response, slowly running his fingers down my curves. "How long have you worked here, Mary Jane? Matt asked me. "Nearly six months," I replied while I shifted my weight so I was resting right against his half-hard cock. He let out a groan in response. "It's a shame I've missed you any time I've been in here," he answered. "You come here often?" I asked, it sounding like a bad pick up line in my head. "Sometimes, depends on what's going on in my life. Depends on my needs at the time," he told me. I didn't know that about Matt.

There was something about being on his lap, brushing up against his hardening member in his pants that was turning me on more than I thought it should be. I had given men lap dances before that I'd found attractive, and it definitely left me a little wet a few times. But this was different. I definitely had always found Matt attractive, and there was an extra layer to this, Matt and I acting like this was our first time meeting. The way his demeanor was different in this setting and the way mine was too. I was beginning to wonder if I was starting to enjoy this more than he was.

"I wanna see your face," Matt growled into my ear, and I obliged by turning around and straddling him. I went back to basically riding him with our clothes on while we looked into each other's eyes. Matt's hands almost immediately found their way to my ass. "You have an incredible body, you know that?" Matt commented. "You're not so bad yourself," I smirked at him. Matt's hands moved from my ass to my breasts. The way he handled me was gentle but with purpose and demanding at the same time. I loved the way his hands traced my body while I continued to grind against him. "Fuck, I wanna kiss you so bad," Matt responded, staring at my lips. "You can if you have another $100 on you," I replied. No matter how badly I wanted to kiss him, I made it a rule that I'd always charge for intimate touch like that, because the men had to know it was transactional. I didn't want to make anyone feel lead on. This was my job, and this was a sale.

Matt shifted my hips so that I was straddling his knee now instead as he reached for his wallet in his pocket. I found myself holding my breath as his leg rubbed up against my already wet cunt and caused friction that sent a shock of pleasure through my nerve endings. It took everything in me to keep from riding his thigh while he pulled another benjamin out of his wallet and tucked it into the bra of my corset. I leaned in to kiss him. His lips were soft and pouty. His kiss was gentle, the same as his touch. His tongue slowly slipped into my mouth and brushed against my own. It was wet and velvety. While he passionately kissed me, his hands made their way to my face, softly cupping it. I pulled away, looking at him with a deep desire.

"Your three songs are almost over," I whispered, maintaining control of the situation. "I can pay for another three songs," Matt said, about to shift me onto his knee again. "Matt, please. As your friend, I can't let you do this. $300 is a lot of money to be spending at a strip club," I lectured him, breaking character. "Mary Jane, tonight I'm just another customer. I make my own money, I can spend it how I like," Matt bit his lip at me. "I wanna spend it on you, baby. I wanna spoil you," his words sent more waves of ecstacy through my body.

"Alright, another three songs," I said putting out my hand to accept another bill. "Actually, how much to take you to the private room?" Matt gestured towards the more intimate spaces where no one could see us. "All that you have in your wallet," I said jokingly, making a gun with my hand and jabbing it into his chest, but he took me seriously. He pulled out his wallet, grabbed a wad of cash, stuck it in my g-string this time, and tipped his wallet upside down to show me it was empty all while he smiled. I reached down to the money he'd put in my panties. "Only catch is, I want you for the whole night. Until the club closes," Matt growled while I counted the money. There was almost $1000 in my hand. I was shocked that Matt had this kind of money to blow at a strip club. And the fact that he did this semi-regularly? Matt was very quiet about how much money he had and about what a freak he was, and I liked that.

I thought about declining his offer and telling him I couldn't mix business, friendship, AND pleasure. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I'd be dumb not to. He was hot, he wanted me, and I'd never made this much money in one night before. "Deal," I said, tucking the money into my corset. Matt grinned at me. "Follow me," I said, leading him back.

I'd taken men into the private rooms before many times, and I liked it. It was quieter, away from all the noise. There was a bed and a couch. Usually, men would take me in there because they wanted more privacy. I'd never slept with a customer, no matter how much I'd been offered, but there were a few times where I'd definitely maybe crossed an ethical line that could technically get the club in trouble, but I'd never tell. I was good at keeping secrets. There were a few men I'd given handjobs to, one john who had taken my tits out of my bra and teased my nipples with his tongue, and one guy who rubbed my clit over my panties until he made me cum. I remembered being so embarrassed and blushing after that encounter, but that was the most money I'd ever made in one night. Until tonight.

"Why don't you take that top off?" Matt inquired when we were alone in the room. I smirked at him as I pulled all the cash out of my bra and set it next to my shoes I'd slipped out of to get more comfortable. I was nervous for him to see me like this, but it was just business. I started undoing the clasps on my corset when Matt came up behind me to help me. When all the hooks were undone, Matt slowly slid my straps down my shoulders one by one. He let my corset slowly fall to the ground, and when it did, he took both breasts into his hands and looked at them in awe. "Shit," he whispered to himself, fondling them, brushing up against my sensitive nipples.

Matt made his way to the couch and comfortably sprawled out, taking up space and licking his lips while his eyes studied my every curve while running his hand along his hard dick in his pants. "Come here, princess," Matt said, rubbing his leg and patting it, motioning for me to sit down, so I did. Once I leaned back into him, he played with my nipples some more, teasing them, pinching them, sucking on them. His hands slowly moved to the front of my panties, rubbing me through the fabric for a few minutes, and moved my thong aside while I sat on his lap. "Your pussy looks so pretty with your panties all pushed to the side like that," Matt complimented me in a voice that was barely above a whisper as he reached for it. When he started moving his fingers in circles skillfully around my clit, I let out a soft moan. "Oh, you're so wet, darling," Matt observed, exploring me with his hands. I loved sitting on his lap like a giddy little girl. His touch felt amazing. He slipped a finger inside of me and then another one while he looked down at my entrance, enthralled by how much wetter he was making me. "Oh, Matt," I whimpered as I started to get close. "Come on pretty girl. Cum all over my fingers," Matt smirked. I couldn't believe I was hearing these words leave Matt's mouth, but I took them as a command. I came unraveled while I sat on his knee with his fingers pumping in and out of me. I felt my body tense up and tremble for a few seconds, and then a glorious release.

"Good girl. You think I could make you cum again?" Matt cooed, licking his fingers while I tried to catch my breath, but I nodded and smiled. He lifted me up off his lap, revealing a wet spot on his pants under where I was sitting, and Matt seemed turned on by it. He sat me on the couch and got down on his knees on the floor between my legs. He pulled my panties to the side again, and I felt his hair tickle my thigh as he leaned it and attached his lips to my vulva. He teased me by kissing and licking everywhere but my clit while he looked up at me, smiling. "Please Matt," I whined, tugging at his curls, trying to bring him closer to where I wanted him to lick me, but he was doing it on purpose, making me beg for it, and he loved it. "Your pussy is so pretty up close and personal like this. Let me take my time with her," he smirked, teasing my entrance and kissing the insides of my thighs. He finally gave in after a few more minutes of my relentless pleading, manipulating my sweet spot with his tongue. He started moving it faster and more enthusiastically. It felt so good, I found myself sliding down on the couch, slowly but surely inching my pussy towards his face. He grabbed my hips and held me in place while he passionately moaned against me, sending shivers through my body. Matt was surprising me by the minute. He was certainly a jack of all trades, and I was learning I didn't even know a lot about him at all, only the parts that he wanted me to see. And the more I saw, the more I liked.

I started digging my nails into his shoulders as he continued to eat me like a mad man, running his hands and his tongue anywhere he pleased, and every time I was responsive to the way he touched me, he moved more eagerly. I was a moaning, writhing wreck under the flick of his tongue the carress of his fingers. I had never let a customer go down on me before. There were a lot of ethical boundaries I was willing to cross at this point for Matt. It just made it even hotter that we were playing into this fantasy that we didn't know each other and that he was just paying for a stripper - and at this point, basically a prostitute. I liked that Matt was paying me to eat my pussy. What a dream. And he was so wonderful at it too. Such attention to detail. So thorough. So restrained yet so urgent. I couldn't get enough of how much he wanted me.

"I'm so fucking in love with your pussy, I could eat you for hours," Matt mumbled in between licks. He closed his lips around my swollen bud and gently sucked on it until I was trembling and nearly screaming his name. "Yes, pretty girl. Make a mess on my tongue. I know you can do it," he cooed. His encouragement along with his skillful mouth had my second orgasm hitting me even harder than the first. I couldn't keep my hips from grinding against Matt's tongue while I twitched and whimpered obscenities, gripping the back of his head.

"Oh my fucking god. Where did you learn to do that?" I smiled down at him once I started to recover from my intense climax. "You're the one who basically showed me what to do with your body language. All I had to do was listen," he smirked. His answer was as hot as what he had just done to me. I liked the way Matt was in tune with my body, and the way he was trying things out to see how I'd react and then doing the things I loved over and over again. It was similar to how I behaved with my customers.

"Have you ever gone down on any other women in these clubs?" I asked him. "No, not ever. This was a first for me," he confided in me, which made me feel special. "First for me too. Guess it wouldn't hurt if we went further.." my voice started to trail off. "Say no more, princess," Matt said, finally taking the time to take off my panties instead of just moving them to the side again.

He unbuttoned his pants, pulled down his boxers, and entered me with no warning. I felt myself invite him in easily, and he started pumping in and out out of me aggressively. I loved the way he filled me and the way he spoke to me. I loved the way his lips parted to let out a stream of moans and the way he looked at me with his glazed over blue eyes, letting me know he couldn't take it much longer. His cock repeatedly hitting my pleasure spot was sending me over the edge again. I throbbed around his thickness as another wave crashed over me, and I got lost in it for a moment. All I could feel was endless pleasure, and there was a ringing in my ears that lasted for several minutes after I came. Matt loudly groaned "Oh, fuck," while he pulled out, leaving a mess on my pussy, and we both watched as his cock twitched and released his sticky white substance. He smiled down proudly and in awe of the way his ejaculate glistened on my womanhood.

He collapsed on the couch beside me after it was all over. "You're so much different at work as opposed to the shy girl I see every day," Matt nudged me. "Not shy, just keep my cards close to my chest," I corrected him. "But yeah, you're so much different as well. Who knew you could fuck like that?" I said, licking my lips, and he grinned as I complimented him.

"I've gotta go, sweetheart. The club is closing in ten minutes, and I've gotta come up with something to tell Chris and Nick about why I've been gone for several hours," he laughed. He leaned down one more time to stroke my face, and he gave me a sensual, slow, deep kiss. "Matt, seriously, come again. I loved doing business with you," I smiled up at him, not wanting him to leave. "I'll be back darling. Don't worry. I'd pay a million dollars if I had it to drown in that sweet pussy again. Just promise me, it'll be our little secret."

[wdwbabes]

the set up

cole caufield x fem! reader

warnings?: alcohol, cursing, kissing, smut, unprotected sex, public sex

masterlist

-

“truth.” you spoke aloud. you were at emma’s bachelorette party, one day before the rehearsal and you were all drunk playing truth or dare like teenagers.

“i know you have a crush on one of the players, who is it?” she asks inquisitively.

“well i’ve always had a little crush on caufield.” you reply with a shrug and a light smile on your face.

“oh really?” emma giggles.

“yeah, i mean he’s just so happy all the time and he’s really handsome, how could i not like him?” you reply taking another sip of your drink.

“i mean yall would be cute honestly.” she continues, texting someone quickly on her phone.

“who ya texting?” steph asks her next to you.

“just brendan, making sure he’s not blackout drunk, you know.” she laughs, knowing the boys were also having their party today.

“oh also, i’ll have your bridesmaid and groomsmen pairings done in the morning.” emma speaks up shutting her phone off. the rest of the night was spent partying, thinking in the back of your mind that you had just admitted your crush on cole to your best friend.

-

“hello?” you groaned into the phone, a call from emma waking you up.

“did you see my text?”

“no i just woke up, i need ibuprofen before i stare at a bright screen.” you laugh lightly.

“oh did i wake you? i’m so sorry.”

“no no it’s fine, i needed to get up, ill read it in a sec.” you reply.

“okay thanks, see you in a few hours y/n!” she says.

“bye love.” you reply, ending the call and getting up, digging for your pills. you popped two before opening your phone back up to read her text. as you ran across your name you almost choked on your drink.

“cole?” you question starkly, eventually leading to a sigh.

“of course i’m with him.” you groan, now feeling pressure to look flawless to maybe impress him. you knew that you’d found him attractive for a while but you had zero clue how he felt toward you.

after many hours of getting ready and making sure your rehearsal dress was perfectly wrinkle-less, you finally were able to leave your hotel room and make your way to the rehearsal venue.

“y/n!” emma yells as you step through the door, running up to hug you.

“hope you enjoy your pairing, yall two are sitting over there for dinner.” she winks pulling away.

“you’re stressing me girl.” you laugh nervously, sitting at the small two top table by yourself. much to your demise, you didn’t get much time to prepare as cole walked into the room a mere 5 minutes later, finding his way to his seat.

“how’ve you been? i haven’t seen you in a while.” cole asks smiling.

“oh i’ve been great, how about you?” you ask, picking at your manicure.

“better now that i’m here.” he replies, turning to face the couple as they were about to speak, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“hey guys so, before we get to eating dinner i just wanted to go over like the order of how everything’s gonna go just so we’re all prepared for tomorrow. and i won’t be mad that it’s not perfect, it’s not supposed to be. but if we don’t have any fun whatsoever, then we’ve failed our mission of being ‘the gallaghers’ so let’s hope we can do that at least.” emma spoke loudly amongst the room. she spoke for a few minutes just running through the order of how everyone is gonna walk out, you and cole being the third “couple”.

“and one last thing, i’m not making you guys sit at separate tables, i sat you with your pairing just because i didn’t like how it looked on the seating chart so, basically you’re attached at the hip all night. sorry.” she laughs, you knew she was particular in not wanting the wedding to be old school and formal.

“you think you got that all down?” you ask, trying to make it seem like you weren’t anxious, and it was starting to work. your nerves were beginning to ease as your anxiety seemed to remember that cole wouldn’t hurt a fly.

“i think i do. and we’re about to practice so that’ll be the test.”

“i’m nervous for tomorrow though.”

“whys that?” he asks, taking a bite of the plate that was sat in front of him.

“what if i like trip on my dress or like sneeze. i’m just scared ill ruin it.” you admit.

“it’ll be fine, you’re just over thinking it.” he replies and you nod knowing he’s right.

“that reception is gonna make it worth it though.” you giggle.

“oh absolutely, that’s gonna be the best part.” he replies

“and you’ll dance with me right?” he asks, with a hopeful smile on his face.

“oh um,” you pause finishing the sip you were about to take, “yeah of course i will.”

“great, i was hoping you would.”

-

you’d spent a vast majority of the night getting to know cole, which you loved doing. he’s an easy going guy who’s very sweet and respectful, which you adored. you went to bed tonight pondering on what the day would bring the two of you. you could feel the flirting between the two of you all evening.

the next morning, you woke up feeling refreshed. you went over the details of the wedding in your head over and over until you didn’t miss a word. you grabbed onto your garment and makeup bag and fled the room, rushing to be by your best friends side as she got ready for her big day.

“so you nervous?” you ask.

“girl no, i already know im saying yes.” she laughs as she sits in the chair being dolled up by her make up artist.

“oh that’s good.” you replied unpacking your things beginning to get yourself ready with the girls. the time came quickly. it seemed like minutes passed by between the time you finished your hair to the time you were stood with the guy you’ve had a crush on for a year.

“you okay? you’re fidgety.” cole asks quietly.

“oh uh, yeah i’m okay. just nervous.” you say, his hand then softly rubbing up and down your back.

“don’t be nervous, you’re gonna be great. if you trip ill catch you. i’m here.” he replies reassuringly as you flash him a weak smile.

“thank you.”

“of course, and you look beautiful by the way.” he says before locking arms with you, prepared to walk down the aisle. you made it down without any trips and appreciated cole going the extra mile to help you up a couple of stairs. you all stood on your respective sides, admiring the couple between you, sharing occasional glances with cole from across the altar. selfishly, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and how kind he was to you just moments prior.

-

the reception started about 30 minutes ago and you’re already 3 wine glasses deep with cole. you’d been dancing for a while and finally made your way back to the table, still littered with the others. you both had grown to be decently drunk and were getting touchy with cole, which is something you wouldn’t DARE to have done about 45 minutes ago.

“cole is need to pee, will you come with me and hold my dress?” you ask, sporting proud puppy dog eyes.

“yes, come on.” he replies standing up reaching his hand out to you, you found your way to the, luckily, single stall restroom. you locked the door quickly and turn to face him.

“i actually don’t have to pee.”

“i know.”

“you do?”

“yes, you’ve been making it obvious.” he giggles.

“what do you mean obvio-“ you start and are cut off by his lips harshly on yours, but in a way you enjoy. it was a quick change in environment, the fun had subsided and all you wanted to know was how he felt buried deep inside you. you felt yourself grow wet at his hands grazing down your back and onto your ass. his lips trailed to your neck, nipping and sucking on the skin before returning back to your lips after a long moment.

“i don’t wanna ruin your make u-“ he starts.

“shut up and fuck me caufield.” you reply interrupting him, a skill you’d both acquired in the last two minutes. cutting him off. a look of shock briefly flashes across his face before a smirk takes over.

“are you sure?” he asks, his hands placed on your waist.

“what do you mean? did you not hear me?”

“no i mean are you sure you wanna do it here?”

“yes, i want you right fucking now cole, and maybe again later when you’re staying in my room with me.” you reply and he smirks, turning you around and bending you over the sink. he assists you in pulling the short train on youryour long skirt over your ass, pushing your soaked lace thong to the side.

“so wet already?” he asks dragging a quick finger through your soaked core.

“mhm.” you reply biting your lip. you looked down at his pants in the mirror as he quickly unbuttoned his dress pants, rubbing himself hard very quickly. you bit your lip as you watched him line his hard cock up with your entrance.

“nuh uh, eyes up here.” he says using his hand to push your chin back up, locking eyes with him as he ran his leaning tip through your wet folds.

“cole we have to be fast.” you complain, as if you weren’t enjoying the teasing. a sigh of relief left your mouth as he buried himself deep inside you, his tip brushing your g-spot instantly, your eyes rolling back.

“oh fuck.” you whimper, realizing you are in a very public place and have to make sure you keep your voice down. you mentally acknowledge the fact that you have no choice but to be fast in this moment, wanting to get the job done quickly. in thinking, you fucked yourself back onto him, colliding in the middle.

“god fuck-“ he grunts, placing his hands firmly on your ass cheeks, thrusting quickly, letting the fabric of your dress muffle the sound of your skin clapping.

“you’re so tight y/n.” he says, almost speeding up his already decent pace.

“oh my god cole, that’s it right there.” you whisper, tears forming in your eyes as you collapsed further over the sink. gently, he wrapped his arm around your chest pulling you up, deepening the angle of his thrusts, hitting your g-spot right on the head with each thrust.

“fucking god, i’m gonna cum.” you whine, a tear slipping from your eye.

“come on baby, cum for me. i will too yeah?” he asks with eyebrows raised in the mirror and you nod as the knot unravels in your stomach, shockwaves shooting through your body rapidly as he filled you to the brim with his milky climax, fucking you all the way through both of your highs.

“i can’t believe we just did that.” you sighed out, catching your breath.

“me either.” he chuckles behind you, pulling out slowly.

“oh fuck, here, stay right there.” he says observing the mess he made between your legs. he grabs a few sheets of toilet paper, carefully wiping you clean, tossing them in the toilet and pulling your panties back over your core.

“my eyes.” you groan looking in the mirror.

“let me see.” he replies and you turn around. he licks his fingers to fix the smudges under your eyes and around your lips, dabbing the sweat off your forehead with a paper towel.

“do i look okay?” you ask, pulling the dress back down.

“just as gorgeous as before.” he replies, readjusting his pants, making sure everything’s in straight.

“okay you ready?” he asks holding onto the door knob.

“wait hold on, can i ask you something?”

“yeah of course.”

“will you come stay with me tonight? like in my room?” you ask boldly, the buzz beginning to wear off.

“if that’s okay, yes of course i will.”

“it’s more then okay.” you smile lightly, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing a firm kiss to his lips.

“good, then i can fuck you right.” he mumbles on your lips, kissing you again.

“woah fuck y/n i’m sorry.” he says as you pull away.

“what what’s wrong?” you reply nervously and he turns you by your hips to the mirror, using his hand to turn your head to the side, exposing the dark hickey he left on your neck.

“honestly, it’s fine, really.”

“are you sure?”

“yes cole it’s fine, and besides you’ll be littered in them tomorrow morning.” you wink, kissing him one last time as you turn the doorknob. he grabs your short dress train of the floor, carrying it as you walked out of the bathroom. you hear a chuckle a few feet away from you, realizing nick was standing there and definitely watched the two of you enter the bathroom.

“emma!” you shout as cole lets go of your dress, taking your hand as you jogged over toward her.

“we’ve been looking for you.” emma replies with a smirk on her face.

“oh uh, i just had to go to the bathroom and there was a line.”

“yep mhm, a line.” she laughs, turning your chin to the side, high fiving her husband.

“what?” you ask.

“bitch, what do you mean what? yall just fucked in true bathroom at my wedding and now you’re holding hands. oh brendan we have outdone ourselves.”

“what?”

“girl, i put you with him so that THIS would happen. nick was our spy, great help.”

“you wanted us to fuck at your we-“

“well that isn’t EXACTLY what we had in mind, i was thinking like a kiss during a slow dance on the floor but this? this is fucking gold.” she laughs hugging you, as you stood confused as ever.

“so this was a set up?” you scoff.

“well, yes.” brendon pokes in.

“thanks gally.” cole laughs, a soft hand wrapping around your hip.

“now yall go have fun.” emma says waving the two of you off.

-

“what a night.” you sigh, collapsing into your bed, cole right beside you.

“yes for real, we really got set up.”

“i’m not mad about it.” you reply.

“me either, i’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while.”

“why didn’t you, i’ve had a crush on you for like a year.” you laugh.

“yeah well, now we fucked in a bathroom at a wedding, i’d say that is quite the stride.” he smiles widely at you.

“i’m fucking exhausted. i would totally love to stay up and fuck all night but i feel like maybe we should sleep it off and then maybeeeeeeee fuck all morning?” you giggle.

“whatever you want baby.” he smiles, his thumb grazing over your cheek lightly, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips

“god you make it so hard not to just wanna fuck you like a damn bunny right fucking now.” you say and he busts out laughing.

“let’s go to sleep, come on love.” he says tucking the two of you under the covers.

“we can fuck like bunnies in the morning okay?”

“okay.” you pout, poking your bottom lip out.

“goodnight pretty girl.” he says softly.

“good night pretty boy.” you smile as he presses a light kiss to your nose.

-

[wdwbabes]

More mackie plsss 🙏🙏🙏

summertime feelings

mackie samoskevich x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, kissing, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, yearning, kind of slow burn-ish

masterlist

-

you laid awake in your bed in the lake house. the same bed you slept in this time every year. the same trip your family took every year. you shared the comfort of your lake house with the samoskevich’s every year for as long as you could remember.

your room shared a wall with mackie’s and that kept you awake at night the last few years. you’d grown confusing feelings for the boy and you had no clue why. well, maybe you did.

“fuck just go to bed y/n.” you groan, pressing your hands to your face. you tossed and turn for a few more minutes before finally drifting off to sleep, dreaming of the boy just on the other side of the wall.

all your life, your families paired the two of you together for events, the most notable being your senior prom. you went to the dance together, as always, and decided to be a bit rebellious and hit the after party. the both of you had a bit much too drink, leading you to giving him a handjob in the bedroom of a complete strangers’ house. ever since then you haven’t felt the same. the way he held your jaw as he sloppily attached your lips together. the way he whimpered at your touch. you woke up the next day in that same bed, vowing to keep what happened that night a secret between the two of you. no one could ever know, nor was it ever probably going to happen again.

not that he didn’t enjoy it.

“y/n.” you wake up to hollow knocks on your door and the sound of your sisters voice.

“huh.” you groan.

“breakfast is almost ready, come downstairs.” she says and you flash her a thumbs up before sitting up and rubbing your eyes. for the past 4 years, you couldn’t get him out of your head, and it didn’t help that you were sharing a house together for a two whole weeks once a year.

“look who it is.” mackie says to everyone as you entered the dining room, a yawn leaving your mouth.

“yeah, hey. good morning guys.” you say, stretching your arms above your head. you could feel a pair of eyes locked on your body but you ignored the urge to look at him, as much as you wanted to.

you could feel his eyes peeking at you all of breakfast, but still you ignored and denied a shared glance.

maybe he’s trying to tell you something.

no, there’s no way.

“we’ll get this all cleaned up, kids go have fun.” your mother says. it’s tradition as the parents spend the late morning cleaning the kitchen as the “kids” all ran off to start their activities for the day. you went up to your room to change, heading out to the dock waiting on mackie to join you for a jetski ride.

“you driving this year?” he laughs, buckling his life jacket as he comes down the wood dock.

“yes…. maybe….. no.” you say with doubt lining your tone.

“atta girl, you already knew i wouldn’t let you.” he giggles, stepping onto the vessel, holding a hand out for you to step on. he sits you down in front of him this time instead of behind like normal.

weird.

he pushes off from the dock and speeds off, flying out into the lake.

“oh my god.” you scream as he guns it, you had no clue where he was going but wherever it was it was away from the house. you gripped your hands tightly on top of his.

“scared?” he yells.

“maybe.”

“you know i wouldn’t actually put you in danger right?” he says leaning into your view as you came to a quick stop.

“yeah i know, i just didn’t expect you to take off like that.” you say out of breath.

“turn around.” he says simply and you do so.

“what?”

“you’re acting weird.” he says plainly.

“what do you mean?”

“you don’t talk to me in front of the family. it’s been less and less every year since the summer after our senior year.”

“you know why.” you respond firmly.

“yes i know. but that doesn’t mean we can’t talk. it’s our secret. no one knows. the only “people” that are weird about it is you. i don’t like this vibe you’ve been giving me. i’ve been trying to catch your attention and you won’t even look at me now, not in front of our parents.”

“mackie im sorry okay. im sorry ive made it weird. i don’t mean to i just….” you trailed off. this was not the moment to admit that you maybe have some complex feelings toward him.

“what is it?” he asks, placing two light hands on your thighs.

“listen i don’t wanna ruin our day okay? can we just talk about it later? you can like come to my room after everyone goes to bed or something. i’m sorry, can we just forget about this conversation? just for now….. please?” you say placing your hands on top of his with a squeeze.

“yeah of course, but you know you can tell me anything y/n. your words will always be safe with me.” he says, his thumbs brushing lightly on your skin.

“thank you.” you say quietly, hugging into the boy tightly.

“let’s get back to riding yeah?” he giggles squeezing you tight before pulling away. you simply nod in response turning back around in your seat.

-

it was finally dark outside. you sat in your bed on your phone, chewing on your nails as the clock ran up the time.

“fuck i told him to forget the conversation. what if he thought that means for him not to come?” you whisper to yourself. you groaned, your hands finding their way back to your face. you’d decided for yourself the he wasn’t coming. you shed your bra and left yourself in a tank top and shorts, awaiting the morning sun that warmed up your room a bit too much.

you tossed and turned with your eyes shut, hoping and praying he’d still come to your door. then you hear it….

three light taps on your door.

you shoot up and look at your alarm clock, the time reading 1:37.

“come in?” you reply, flicking your lamp on.

“it’s just me.” you hear mackie whisper as he shuts the door and comes into the light. s

shirtless of course.

“i was scared you thought i told you not to come.” you sigh out.

“well i did but…. i figured i should anyway.” he giggles.

“come sit.” you say patting the spot next to you.

“actually, could you come with me?” he says, picking at his nails.

“yes?” you reply hesitantly. the brunette guides you down the steps and out of the house.

“mack where are we going?” you ask.

“you’ll see.” he replies, continuing down the dock to his fathers pontoon boat.

“mackie we are n-“

“we’re not going anywhere, will you just come on?” he laughs and you hesitate, deciding not to ask him anymore questions. he opens the gate of the boat stepping in, assisting you in like always. he guides you to the front of the boat where a few blankets laid astray on the ground and pillows littered the edges of the floor, leaning up against the seats, his sisters battery powered fairy lights scattered so everything was somewhat visible.

“what is this?” you ask looking up at him.

“i could tell you had a lot on your mind, i wanted to do something to maybe help you out. we’re out of everyone’s earshot. it’s just us out here. parents breakfast in town is in the morning so we can stay out here too if you want. if not it’s okay.” he says, sitting down on the blankets, reaching his hand out for you.

“this is so thoughtful mackie. thank you.” you say looking around. the lake was flat and peaceful as you sat in silence for a few moments.

“yeah, you’re welcome.” he replies practically in a whisper. you could feel his eyes locked on you as you observed the area around you.

“so what was it you wanted to talk about. i wanna fix this, whatever went wrong i wanna fix it.”

“i think it’s more complicated than that.” you reply staring up at the stars.

“hit me.” he giggles.

“no mackie you don’t understand.”

“make me understand y/n. we have all night.” he says leaning up.

“i like you.” you say, broken up slightly.

“what?”

“i said i like you, mackie. i like you. i have since our fucking senior prom. i didn’t want to move on from that damn night. it changed everything for me. i couldn’t help but feel like you just didn’t want me and that it was a silly mistake. i was embarrassed. i’ve liked you ever since but i was ignoring you to push my feelings away because i knew you’d never feel the same way.” you admit, a tear falling down your cheek. you couldn’t read the expression on his face.

why did you just admit all of that to him?

“and i understand if you don’t feel the same way. it’s like a childish dream or some shit.” you try to giggle, wiping another tear. you finally lock eyes with him, and suddenly your brought out of your thoughts. he slid his hand behind your neck and pulled your lips straight into his. his lips felt just like you remembered. soft and plump. just like in the dreams you had every year at this damn place. his tongue plunged carefully onto your mouth as your hands found their way to his cheeks, the kiss growing hotter, and more passionate by the second. you couldn’t tell if this was him admitting he felt the same way, or just a way to take the awkwardness.

his words mattered to you, more than anything.

you finally pulled away catching your breath, opening your eyes to see the boy already looking at you.

“does that tell you anything about how i feel?” he smiles lightly.

“maybe…”

“fuck y/n. i’ve wanted you forever. all i ever wanted was for you to look my way. all i ever wanted was for you to be mine. i wanted it to be you all along. i tried to make it obvious but you couldn’t even look at me.”

“i’m sorry mackie. i really am.” you reply.

“it’s okay. we’re here now.” he says, the gleam in his eye appearing for the first time since that night. he brings your lips back to his more harshly this time, his hands trailing down your waist, laying you back smoothly. you pulled away again, not knowing where to go from here. looking to him for something.

you knew exactly where you wanted this to go. a switch flipped in your head in an instant as you tugged your tank top off revealing your bare chest. gently he took your breasts into his hands, reconnecting your lips as your hands latched on top of his, his large hands massaging them. his lips trailed from your lips, to your jaw, straight to your neck as your fingers gripped onto his dark curls.

you couldn’t help the soft moans that escaped your lips as he nipped on the skin of your neck. he moved his was down to your color bone, pressing sweet kisses along the bone before attaching his lips to your chest, sucking harshly on the skin as your grip on his curls tightened.

he knew better than to leave hickeys on your neck when you’re staying in a house with your family for a whole nother week.

he littered your breasts with hickeys, leaving them sensitive and tender. you whined as he pulled away a soft but hungered look in his eyes.

“holy shit.” you laugh softly, looking down at the artwork he was clearly proud of.

“i’d consider that territory claimed, maybe i don’t know.” he giggles again, reattaching your lips. typically you’d cringe at a moment like that, but never for him. nothing he could do in this moment would turn you off. you’d never been this horny in your life. maybe he was the missing piece to everything.

“fuck mackie.” you whine as his fingers make contact with the soaked fabric that covered your pussy.

“so soaked for me huh?” he says, licking his fingers clean. hastily, you pull your shorts and panties off, leaving yourself completely exposed. in return, he pulls of his sweat pants, leaving him in only his boxers.

“please?” you groan quietly.

“no, i have to do this right.” he shakes his head, leaning back against the pillows, shaking off his boxers.

“come here.” he says, signaling for you to lean on his chest.

“you’ve got me so worked up, all for me to lay with you?”

“so many questions.” he giggles as you make yourself comfortable against his chest, his hand sliding over your thigh and back to your soaked core.

“fuck.” you say biting your lip as he slips two fingers into you. one of your hands gripping onto his thigh, the other finding its way to the back of his neck.

“feel good?” he teases, pumping his large fingers in and out of you.

“y-yes. shit.” you say squeezing your eyes shut harshly.

“so good for me.” he coos lowly in your ear. your pushed closer and closer to your wits end. your back arching more and more against him, your eyes squeezing shut even tighter.

“oh my fucking god.” you moan out loudly as the bucket finally tips, an orgasm washing over your body harshly. shakes rippling through your body as your back straightened out again, your chest rising and falling heavily as he sucks his fingers clean in your ear.

“that was fucking incredible.” you sigh out, your hands now rested on his thighs. such a fulfilling moment, but you couldn’t help but want more. you’ve wanted more the last four years.

“come on baby, can you lay down for me?” he mutters in your ear.

“yes.” you reply quietly, laying down on your back, your legs squeezed shut.

“no no, open up for me.” he says, tapping on your leg as he jerked himself even harder than he was before.

“i’m nervous.” you admit. this was a serious step for you, and you were worried one of you would maybe regret it.

“don’t be nervous my love, i just wanna love on you.” he says lowly, pressing a soft kiss to your knee as you slowly put your legs down, opening them for easier access.

“so so good for me baby.” he mutters, sliding himself into you smoothly, instantly stretching you out like no other guy had.

“fuck.” you moan out loudly, your hand slapping over your mouth as the brunette giggled above you.

“nobody can hear you out here sweetheart. remember. just me ‘n you.” he says locking eyes with you.

“just me ‘n you.” you reply with a smile, his lips attaching back to their home as he retracted his hips slowly, pushing back in at the same speed. you gripped onto his wrists on either side of your head as he quickened his thrusts slightly. the light sound of skin clapping echoing in your ears, the boat rocking ever so slightly.

you’d never felt this way before. the way he was buried so deep inside you. you’d never felt this fucking good. the pure euphoria you felt was unmatched by any kind of alcohol or drugs you could ever find.

he hit every right spot, over and over again. your eyes threatening to roll to the back of your skull but remained locked on his as your moans grew louder and sharper. in this moment you couldn’t muster any singular thought other than how much you fucking loved this boy.

for everything he was.

“god you feel so fucking good baby.” he grunts out lowly above you as you reach up, pulling his chain to bring his lips back to yours before your moans could turn to screams.

“i’m so fucking close.” you mutter on his lips, your hand releasing his chain and reaching into his hair as he found himself buried in your chest again. stars started to form behind your eyes as your moans grew closer together, your core tightening more and more around his thick, swollen cock.

“fuck oh my god.” you say as the tension snaps out of it, goosebumps coming in waves across your body as you came harder than you ever had.

“shit y/n, i’m gonna cum.” he groans.

“keep it in me mackie. i don’t fucking care.” you say as he fucked you all the way through your high spilling into his own as he filled you to the brim with his cum.

truth be told you didn’t care what happened to you in this moment. nothing could ever top this.

ever.

“fuck, i’m sorry i-“ he says pulling out, a panic stricken look instantly spreading across his face.

“mackie, stop. don’t worry about it. i told you to do it. everything will be fine.” you giggle.

“are you sure?” he asks.

“yes i’m sure.” you reply, leaning up to kiss him once again.

“damn we gotta keep this a secret big time.” he says and the two of you laugh.

after some moments of winding down, you found yourselves back in your clothes just like you were before all of this. you laid in silence next to each other looking up at the bright stars, wondering where you went from here.

“i think im in love with you.” you say simply.

“what?” he says turning his head to look at you.

“i said im in love with you.” you reply, turning to look at him.

“i heard you, i just wanted to hear you say it again.” he smirks as you smack him on the chest.

“hey hey, quit.” he giggles.

“it’s not funny mackie. i’m serious.” you say sternly.

“i know you’re serious baby, and i am too.” he says, catching your hands and holding onto it.

“you’re what too?” you push.

“i’m in love with you. so fucking deeply, i can’t even comprehend it. it scares the shit out of me y/n. i love you so fucking much it scares me.”

“why are you afraid?”

“because i don’t want to lose you. i don’t wanna fuck this up. that’s why i’ve never said anything. i love you so much y/n. you have to understand.” he finishes, your heart jumping at the sound of his words.

“i understand my love. you’re never going to lose me. never in a million years.” you reply, your hands finding their way to his cheeks, smiling as you press your lips back to his.

you fell asleep on his chest, waking up to the sun peeking over the horizon. the two of you got up just in time to clean up the boat and sneak in the house, the dirty blanket thrown quickly in the wash before he slips into your room with you, hoping to wake up next to you every morning for the next week. he couldn’t live without it.

he couldn’t live without you.