themology

[themology]

The Only One

Dark - Duke Leto Atreides X f!Reader

Not Beta Read

PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!

Summary

The duke needs an heir, or Caladan will fall under the rule of his enemies. There's one woman is capable of saving the planet...she's the only one.

Tags/Warnings

Disclaimers: This fic does not comply with canon, throw everything you thought you knew about the Dune lore out the window. The duke is (in my opinion) in character for this situation, despite the obsessive tendencies. There is heavy non-con in this fic, it's not for everyone. If you're sensitive to that sort of thing in fanfiction, please keep on scrolling thanks. NSFW, non-con, rape, kidnapping, sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, praise kink, lactation kink, pregnancy, blood kink, cockwarming, forced pregnancy, non-consensual bondage, porn with some plot, smut, creampie, body worship, pregnant sex, oral sex (f receiving), Dark fic, Dark Duke Leto Atreides. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT (that means that what you see in the tags WILL be in the fic, don't act surprised when you get exactly what you were warned about.)

Word Count: 6k

Prelude

After many years of trying for an heir, Duke Leto has begun to give up hope. Without an heir, the emperor threatens to give away his birthright, strip him of his title, and hand Caladan to his enemies. He has been given only one final year to produce a son who will carry on his family name. While searching for someone who could give him what he needs, he happens upon a mysterious woman. The strange woman tells of a prophecy, one that Leto takes very seriously, because he has no other choice. "In a village, not far from here, my lord, there's a girl. She is not of noble birth, but I have seen her future, and she will give you many sons." Duke Leto, a kind and gentle man, would never hurt someone so innocent on purpose, but when faced with the choice of taking you, or losing Caladan to those who meant to oppress it, he must set aside his morality for the greater good...

The duke entered his chambers where you were suspended from the lofty ceiling, as he’d requested his men to do once they found you. A warm smile spread across his face at the sight of you, so beautiful, so scared. Leto stepped forward, nearly jumping when your head shot up and your tear-stained eyes locked on with his. He held one hand behind his back in a regal manner, holding the other out to touch your cheek as he closed in on you slowly.

“W-wh…” you cleared your throat, “where…”

“Shh,” he whispered softly, brushing his thumb over the soft skin of your beautiful face, “you’re safe now. There’s no need to panic.”

Despite his words, it was clear you were terrified, struggling to breath in a normal, even heave. No matter the fear you displayed in your eyes, the duke’s expression remained calm, and filled with adoration.

“I know you’re frightened. It is…expected,” he said softly, standing up straight and casually walking to his wardrobe. “Would you care for some wine perhaps? Or I can call for the doctor, he could provide you with a mild sedative?”

He turned to look at you, your head was hung downward once again, naked body trembling and rattling the chains that held you in place. He wasn’t a cruel man, though he suspected you thought he was. He’d never done something like this before, sending his guards out to retrieve a young woman to keep in his chambers indefinitely. A nearly inaudible sob escaped your lips.

“No need to cry my dear, you’re not in any danger,” he said, beginning to unbuckle his belt, the sound of the metal piercing through the room. “In fact, you’re going to be very well taken care of here. Do you have any idea just how lucky you are?”

You cried harder, sobs becoming even louder as you looked up at him again. He removed his shirt, revealing his warm, sunkissed skin. It was hard to tell, but he appeared handsome through the blur of your tears. You dropped your head again, your neck aching from the position you were in. Your arms were pinned behind your back, body bent forward at the hips, leaving your rear exposed and open. Your thighs ached, legs spread wide, forced open by a metal pole secured between your knees. The ache in your chest from your labored breathing was horrid enough, only made worse by the chains wrapped around you, keeping your torso held upward and parallel to the stone floor.

“You don’t even realize that you are the most important piece to maintaining our way of life of Caladan,” he continued, removing his pants completely and letting them fall to the ground. “I have been unable to find anyone compatible. Perhaps it’s that my genetics are too much for the average woman to carry to term.” He stepped closer to you, cock bobbing heavily with every stride. “But you’re not average, are you my dear?”

“P-please,” you croaked, “I…I…”

“No no, not another word. You’re frightened now, yes, but you’ll soon realize the important work that you were made for,” he walked past you, running his hand along your arm and to your hip as he did. “The important job you’ll be doing for me…”

You whimpered, struggling slightly against your restraints but to no avail. The duke used to pride himself on being an honorable man, and even in this morally reprehensible moment, he felt justified in his actions. He didn’t always like what his duty called him to do, but knowing it was for the greater good, he would do almost anything.

“You see my dear,” he cooed, “you were found for me, a beautiful, fertile woman who is prophesied to give me many children…” he leaned into your ear, “many.” His tone turned to a low rumble. “So even though this may seem sudden, you will realize with time that you’re fulfilling your purpose…your destiny.”

His right palm splayed over the globe of your cheek, moving toward where your body was spread in two. He didn’t like hearing you cry, but he knew it was inevitable. No normal girl would consent to being abducted and restrained in a man’s bedroom, not even the duke’s bedroom. He saw your puckered hole, and he pressed his index finger to it gently, inciting a gasp from you, followed by the rattling of the chains. You cried out, begging him to release you, but your wails fell on deaf ears.

“I know you care about Caladan, our people. I know you care about the Atreides legacy, and you know…” he spit between your crack, letting his warm saliva trickle from your rim down between your folds, “you know I need a strong, healthy heir.”

Leto positioned himself behind you, using his hand to fist the fat tip of his cock at your glistening entrance. The metal pole keeping your legs spread for him creaked with tension as you struggled to close your thighs, a pointless endeavor. He sighed heavily, gliding his head between each crevice of your pretty little cunt, making himself slick with your arousal.

“You must think me to be a cruel man, but you’re mistaken darling. I don’t want to hurt you, and if you’ll relax this will be much less painful for you.” His breath was ragged with an almost animalistic desire. “You must understand, however, that I care far too much about the future of my people not to provide them with an Atreides heir.”

No matter how hard you tried to escape the flesh splitting thrust of his wide girth, your attempts were futile. A pained scream echoed off the walls of his chambers, followed shortly by the warmth of your blood against his thighs as he slapped them against yours loudly. He wasn’t trying to hurt you, but he wanted to get your first time over with, and not drag it out any longer than necessary. He slowed down after a moment, once your screaming turned to soft whimpers.

“You’re doing so well…” he huffed through his nostrils harshly “…I know this isn’t easy for you,” Leto leaned forward, grabbing one of your hanging breasts in his large hand, pinching the nipple gently, “b-but your body was built for this…it was built for me…”

“No, n-no…” you trailed off, feeling your head fall back down, neck aching still from the strain. A small moan left your lips, despite your attempts to keep it in.

“O-oh sweetheart is…is it starting to feel good?” The roll of his hips remained at a steady pace. “That’s wonderful, it will help with the pain, and your time will be more enjoyable for you if you can gain some pleasure from this as well, I don’t want you to feel misery if I can help it.”

“S-stop, please, my lord…”

“Shh,” he whispered softly, continuing to palm at your breast.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips against the soft skin of your spine. He could feel your tied-back hands fidgeting against his ribcage. His free hand moved to your left hip, holding it tightly to angle himself deeper.

“I’m going to fill you with every bit of me , every-single-drop,” he punctuated each word with a harder thrust. “I need to make sure you get it all, need to make sure it takes…mmph!”

Surely your noisy whimpers could be heard in the halls, yet no one came to help you. They all knew what was happening in there. You were to be the mother of the next Atreides heir. You would be made to bear child after child for the legacy obsessed duke. A breeding vessel for a desperate nobleman, torn between his kind nature and his need for the security and wellbeing of his people.

“The emperor will take everything I have if I can't secure my bloodline. He’ll give it t-to the…” he whimpered and gulped deeply, “Harkonnens, and I can’t let that happen to my people.”

You could hear nothing over your whimpers save for the wet slapping of his skin against yours as his pace quickened. You didn’t know what he was going on about - destiny, legacy, an Atreides heir? - He snapped forward again, a gravelly rumble falling from his chest. He moved to an upright position, letting your breast hang loosely once more. You wailed loudly, the feeling of his thick fingers leaving their impressions in the flesh of your hip.

“M-my lord, my lord…it hurts so…s-so-much-s-sir!”

“I know, but you’re taking me so well anyway aren’t you?” He looked down where your puffy little hole swallowed his crimson painted cock. “Look at that.”

His index finger touched where you were stretched around him, that little bit of skin that held onto his cock like it never meant to let go. You whimpered, chains rattling around you as your body involuntarily moved, only serving to sink you down further on his length once more. He could hear you hyperventilating, a panic-stricken whine punching out of your chest that he felt a tad guilty for inciting.

Until he remembered what your purpose was…the reason he’d had you brought to his castle in the first place.

He reached an arm around your leg, sinking the pad of his finger into the wet, bloody mess between the slippery lips of your cunt. In the sea of your arousal, he found the swollen bud that made your walls flutter around him. You gasped, and seemingly on their own, his hips slid forward, chasing that delicious feeling of your body finally accepting him, pulling him deeper inside.

“You like that don’t you?” He bit his lip, a breathy chuckle escaping through his teeth with the knowledge that he’d found a way to settle your terror, if only for a moment. “I promise, no matter how terrible this may be, that I won’t allow you to stay like this…and-s-suffer-oh-my…”

He felt your body squeezing tighter, walls contracting around his cock. He thrust forward again, shuddering at the way you were taking him, pulling him deeper, like your body was begging for his cum, like you needed him to feed your hole until you were stuffed and overflowing.

“Mmm-m-my-lord…p-please–”

Your tone was different now, more sultry and full of desire. It was good to hear you like that, moaning instead of crying, grunting with pleasure instead of pain. This would be so much better for you once you gave in, he knew that much. He could give you everything: make your body shake with orgasm after orgasm, clothes made from the finest silks, and comforts that were reserved for only the lords and ladies of Caladan.

“Your pleas don’t go unnoticed sweetheart, don’t think me cruel, I wouldn’t do this if the circumstances were different,” he huffed, breathing becoming more ragged with every glide of his hips. “I need you…Caladan needs you–needs-you-full-ah!”

The smooth roll of his hips slowed as his seed spilled into you. You felt it, warm and slick as it coated your insides white. You felt a sensation you’d never felt, rolling over your entire body and pooling in your core, causing your legs to shake and your mind to go blank. It was euphoric; a reprieve from the pain you’d endured for what felt like hours, but couldn’t have been more than several minutes.

Leto felt your pussy walls squeezing, crushing down over his girth in waves while you moaned. What a sweet sound, one that made him feel mental relief that he’d given you something in return for your suffering. His finger slowed around your hardened clit, letting you come down slowly from your high.

As your pleasured whines subsided, you thought he would remove himself from you, letting your hole relax after such an ordeal, but he didn’t. The duke stayed there, hips pressed flush against your rear, making no motion to release you from his hold. You moved slightly, but he gripped tightly on your hips, keeping you firmly in place.

“No, no darling, no.” His voice was calm but raspy, still settling after his climax. “I’m going to stay like this for a moment longer, just to make sure it takes. We wouldn’t want to waste it.”

He looked down, seeing the way your body had bled on his, coating his pubic hair in a deep red shade. He felt for you, truly he did, but once you realized what an honor it was to be in your position, he knew you’d find it was worth the sacrifice. Your breathing was slowing, going back to normal, and after several moments he pulled back, letting his limp cock fall from where it had torn you open. 

You groaned, feeling yourself become empty all at once. Your head hung down, neck finally too tired to hold it up any longer. You heard the duke tsk behind you, his palms pressing against your cheeks and spreading them further. The sound of dripping cum on the floor echoed through the room.

“Let’s keep it all inside, sweet one, I need you to give me a son,” he pushed his spend back inside you with his finger, what little was still there and had not fallen to the floor.

You winced and hissed, the metal holding you in place rattling once more. His thick middle-finger slid in deep, Leto shuddered as your hole clenched in response. He could hear you crying, a soft, defeated sound he wished one day would stop. But he couldn’t expect that from you, not now as he broke you in for the first time. He expected you would be like this for a while until you were used to him, used to his size, used to the way he kept you as full as possible, as often as possible.

“Your body handled me very, very well darling,” he said, idly fingering you as he spoke, continuing to push his spend back inside you. “Looks like I’ve made quite the mess of you, but don’t worry, I’ll have you cleaned up in a moment.”

He kept true to his word, once he was thoroughly satisied he’d kept his cum in you long enough, the duke turned onto his back, positioned himself between your thighs, and propped himself up on his elbows so his lips could reach your cunt with ease. A gasp shot from your lungs, the feeling of his warm mouth enveloping your sore folds bringing comfort to the ache. You moaned, a sound that represented more than just sexual pleasure, but a sound that told him you were at least accepting your fate…for the moment.

He was right, there was no more fighting, and it was clear your words weren’t going to change his goal oriented mind. His desire to have an heir was stronger than his desire to act honorably. His tongue went flat, you felt it soothing the tear of your hymen, then dragging upward and flicking once it reached the peak of your folds. You exhaled a sigh, cunt throbbing in response to the way he lapped at you masterfully.

“You know not many,” he kissed your pussy lips, “can say,” another peck, “they’ve been lucky enough to carry such an important role for Caladan. Even I’m not as important as you are right now.”

His hand reached up and pressed against your stomach while his mouth continued to melt into your cunt, soothing you even more as he cleaned you. He never felt such pride as he did in that moment, knowing that this was a good effort, even if it didn’t take. The sheer amount that he ate from you, in combination with his already discarded seed on the floor underneath him, gave the duke a sense of relief to know that he was producing sufficiently on his end. It wouldn’t take long for you to give him a healthy child, if you were indeed the girl the old woman had told him about.

You whimpered still when his tongue would touch your wound, though it was always followed with the relief of him dragging it over your clit. He slurped quietly as he continued, not making an indication that he would be stopping any time soon, despite the likelihood of you being clean already. The hand on your stomach moved, reaching up and cupping your breast, holding it and squeezing softly.

“Oh, my lord, y-yes…”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t deny the heat pooling at the base of your abdomen once again. Was it even worth trying to deny the way it felt? He was the Duke of Caladan after all. If he wanted a hundred concubines tied up to his ceiling he could take them, and no one would stop him. You should be grateful it was he who took you, and not someone who might’ve been much more cruel in their claiming of your body.

He hummed into your folds, breathing heavily through his nose as he did. His hand slid over to your waist, gripping around you and holding tight. The vibration from his moans, and the brush of his peppery beard against your thighs was causing your body to near release once more. That would only be the second time in your life that you’d felt it, and you wanted it more than you could bear.

“Mm, let yourself go my dear, I only want you to feel good from now on, now that I broke you in a little.”

His mouth never left your cunt as he spoke, his words only serving to draw your next climax from your body faster. You felt it fall over you, warm and heavy, making your body melt once more, going limp save for the involuntary crashing of your walls around the emptiness the duke had left behind. He didn’t stop until he was sure you were fully satisfied, head hanging down again and breathing returned to normal. 

With a grunt he rose from beneath you. You heard him padding on his bare feet to the wardrobe on the far side of the room. If you turned your head just a little you could see him, much clearer now than before. He looked at you as he put a loose cotton shirt over his shoulders, then leaning down to pull his trousers over his legs.

“You’re simply the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said in a gentle baritone, moving back to kneel in front of you. “I do not kneel for many, but I’ll kneel for the mother of my children.”

You strained your neck to look at him once again. He cupped your cheeks to help you, seeing your struggle and feeling sorry for the part he played in your suffering. He kissed your forehead, feeling the salt from your sweaty brow upon his lips.

“I’ll return every day, at least until I’m sure you’re pregnant,” his lips curled into a compassionate smirk, “then I’ll let you rest while your belly grows.”

He stood, striding to the washroom and leaving you hanging there, like a prized animal on display. Before long, the same men who’d captured you returned, undoing most of your bonds, save for the ones holding your hands behind your back. They weren’t rough, just like before when they’d abducted you. You felt your entire body sigh, your bones and muscles feeling relieved to fall back into place. 

You weren’t sure when exactly you’d conceived. It must’ve happened at some point between that first time when he tore you apart, and the following month when your period didn’t arrive when it should’ve. By then you’d become, not unlike, a piece of furniture in Duke Leto’s chambers, restraints much less restrictive and painful than your first meeting. Only a week after he’d broken you, you’d become more willing for him, crying less when he came to take you. 

“I don’t want you to feel like a prisoner here, despite your situation, and since you’ve become so compliant, I think I can afford to make you more comfortable,” he’d explained.

And so he had you moved to the bed. Though you weren’t completely free. That was a risk the duke could not afford. So he had metal cuffs around your wrists, and chains that connected them to the stone wall behind the bed. You could move easier, but you could never leave.

When another week went by, two weeks after your torment began, he was swelling with pride, seeing you spreading your legs upon his entry into his chambers without prompt. You said you appreciated the silken evening dress he’d had the servants craft for you, the one that fell open on either side of your hips when you presented your cunt to him. He wasn’t supposed to love you - it wasn’t necessary for him to love you - but he felt himself overwhelmed with feelings he couldn’t contain every time he saw you.

Three weeks after that first meeting, you kissed him. It was clear he’d been holding back, allowing you to maintain some level of autonomy, despite having taken your body for himself so many times. He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, force you to be intimate with him if that wasn’t what you wished.

So it was a shock when he was several moments into fucking you, cock sliding wetly along your walls in a desperation to fill you with him again, and you grabbed his face on either side. His hooded eyes shot up, meeting with yours but then quickly flicking down to see your precious lips closing in. You closed your eyes, and so did he, and everything seemed to slow down for a moment, including the pace that he thrust into you.

The slow roll of his hips was heavenly, and was soon accompanied by the feeling of his hand on the back of your head, pulling you deeper into the kiss, gliding his tongue inside your mouth so he could taste you. The duke filled you faster than ever that night, being so engulfed in the moment that he couldn’t hold on any longer.

And now, it was just over a month beyond your arrival to Castle Caladan, you were sitting with the physician while he examined you, confirming that yours and the duke’s efforts had been fruitful.

The way Leto looked at you in that moment, was a look you’d never seen before. His dark brows turned up and stitched together, soft lips parted just before a smirk curled over them. He held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, the glossy sheen of tears apparent in his eyes.

“After years of trying to produce an heir, I finally found a perfect vessel, such a precious thing,” he cooed, touching your stomach before leaning in and finding your lips with his own. “My most wonderful treasure.”

Leto heard nothing else as the doctor murmured about you, voice seeming background to where his focus lied. Part of him was still shocked that the old woman was right. She told him in his search of her prophecy that you, a normal village girl, would produce many sons for him, and she was right. 

That night, the duke did everything he could for you. His kisses were softer, less desperate and more deliberate. His hands didn’t grab your flesh as a means to hold you, but rather to feel you. And when he sunk his cock into you, he did so in a way that emphasized your pleasure over his own, angling for those spots that made your body quiver.

You may not have been of noble birth, but to the duke, that night you were his empress. There wasn’t an inch of your skin that hadn’t been brushed by the coarse hair of his bearded chin. He worshiped you, giving you an evening dedicated to only your satisfaction.

For many weeks he would come into his chambers and ramble on about how proud he was, and how well you were doing. He would whisper the most depraved, while beautiful, things in your ear about how the people of Caladan owed you their lives, and how he couldn’t wait until it was time to breed you all over again. All of that praise was nothing though, not compared to the way he looked at you after coming back from his trip to Arrakis.

When he walked into his chambers, and you were there on his bed, only a couple short months away from birth, he stopped dead in his tracks. He felt like the words were trapped in his throat, and his feet were stuck to the floor. All he could do was stare, and take in the beauty before him. You were simply radiant, pregnant belly full with his son, his heir; swelling breasts nearly spilling out of your dress.

Once he found the ability to move again he slowly walked over to you, taking off his coat as he sat beside you.

“Look at you…” his voice trailed off.

“Hello my lord,” you greeted softly.

His hand reached for yours, and he was quickly reminded that you’d been a captive there, metal cuffs still wrapped around your wrists, rattling as he held you. He felt a pang in his chest, wanting desperately to release you. Every time the thought crossed his mind though, he worried you would run. You didn’t seem like you would try to leave, having become much more docile since your arrival months ago. There was also the glaring fact that you were pregnant, and it wouldn’t be easy for you to get away even if you managed to pass every one of the guards who might see you before reaching the doors of Leto’s home.

There was always that small chance though, no matter how slim, that you would leave. It was a risk he couldn’t afford to take.

He looked back at your body, eyes wide and trained on your stomach. The duke leaned in, kissing just above your navel, a satisfied hum escaping his lungs as he did. It was hard not to like him, and that was what you hated about him the most. The man was dedicated to his people, to his title, and his legacy more than anything. The longer you were around him, and the more time you’d spent under his care, the more you’d begun to understand your purpose within his walls.

The idea of the Harkonnens, or any other house for that matter, claiming the right to Caladan, should House Atreides produce no heir, was a frightful one. He broke you from your thoughts, eyes trailing up your chest and to your eyes. Your breath caught in your throat, he looked so handsome, lips slightly parted with a few stray hairs falling into his dark eyes. Despite holding you captive for the sole purpose of breeding an heir from you, you’d begun to fall for Leto Atreides, against all odds.

“My sweet girl, my darling, you’re doing so well, growing my child in your womb. I couldn’t have asked for a better woman to give me a son, to give House Atreides its heir,” he whispered, cupping your cheek, bringing his forehead to yours. “I’ve been disappointed so many times.”

“Thank you my lo-”

“No sweetheart, no, shh…” he pressed a finger to your lips gently before replacing it with a tender kiss, “you should be worshiped by Caladan, it's people…I want to worship you.”

His hand grabbed at your waist, pulling you against him into a deeper kiss. You felt his growing arousal against your thigh, followed by an involuntary rut of his hips. You whined, trying not to be bothered by the incessant ache in your chest, your engorged tits becoming too heavy and painful to bear. It was hard to focus on the duke’s soothing touch when you felt such discomfort.

He stopped kissing you, looking at you with concern, “are you alright sweet one?” His eyes trailed to your tits, “are they sore? Oh you poor thing.”

You nodded and whimpered, wincing as he pulled one of your straps down and pulled a heavy breast from its confines. Your puffy nipple had a bead of white sitting on it, threatening to trickle down the mound. His pink tongue darted out, lapping up the milk that nearly fell from your breast, and humming in approval of its taste.

“Let me help you my dear,” he said softly, leaning in and latching his mouth over your chest.

You gasped at first, the coarse brush of his beard stinging against the sensitive skin, but it very quickly gave way to a much better, more soothing sensation. You sighed in relief, feeling him suckling at your flesh, drawing out the milk that had been causing your breasts to swell beyond belief. He moaned against your skin, rolling his hips idly as he did. This was very unusual for him, to be so needy and desperate for you, clinging onto your body the way he was.

In the past, Leto would’ve just taken you if he wanted to, but with your body so soft and full with his child, he would resist. Of course he knew you could take it, you weren’t made of glass, but he wanted to give you nothing but comfort, emptying you instead of filling you with more than he already had in the past. He felt your hand reach up and grab the back of his head, delicate fingers massaging between his peppery locks.

“Mm, my darling, so sweet,” he muttered against your tit, a little milk dribbling down his lips.

You felt his hips moving more, now more deliberate before, as though he were accepting of his primal urges to find release, rather than suppress it, but still unwilling to ask you for help.

“It’s alright my lord, you haven’t…mmph…you haven’t been satisfied in some time. Do what you must.”

Even though he was trying to remain stoic and refined, your permission was all he needed to throw all that aside. With his free hand he tugged at his belt, keeping his lips pursed around your nipple as he did. You heard the unmistakable clanking and rattling metal as he found success, pulling the leather from the loops and tossing it to the ground. His dexterous fingers then made quick work of his pants, pulling them to his thighs.

Leto Atreides was a nobleman, not one to give in to such animalistic delights so easily, but something about drinking from your chest, and how perfect you were serving him and his house with your pregnancy made him feral for you. His hands were shaking as he tried to bring his cock to your hole. He’d done it so many times before, why was he struggling now?

“Sir…” you pushed him off your breast, biting your lip at the sight of him as he looked up at you.

His eyes were hooded, milk-drunk and heavy. The lips that had been suckling for a while were now pink, puffy, and covered in a white, glossy sheen. You lifted your leg, sliding yourself into a position that you were both parallel to one another. You wrapped your leg around his hip, angling his fat tip to your slippery entrance.

“You’re too precious, too g-good…oh…” His hips stuttered forward, opening you wide around his cock once again.

You hadn’t been with him in so long, your body had nearly forgotten how to take him. You winced, needing to readjust once again, but he was patient, holding himself flush against your hips while your walls moved aside for his girth. He let out, what sounded like, a low growl as he mouthed at your neglected tit. His hips remained in place, making no attempt to retreat, nor to glide in further. His cock rested there contentedly, throbbing every now and then.

He gulped, humming into your breast as he drank more, the ache in your chest slowly subsiding with every moment that passed. Eventually he moved his hips lazily, pulling back after a time before rolling back forward.

What the duke was feeling with you in that moment was more than a simple sex act. What he felt now was comfort, his cock buried in your soaking, slippery heat, and his lips pursed around your nipple. Leto swirled his tongue in a slow roll over your peaked mound, taking a moment to inhale several shaky breaths before going in for more.

The way he drew more and more milk out of you was causing your body to relax further, your walls becoming more open to his slow movements and deep strokes. A low moan escaped you, forcing his eyes to shoot up, still so dark in their feral hunger. You tugged his hair, forcing him to pull off your breast with a loud pop. Without hesitation, you kissed him, filling your mouth with a combination of your sweet fluids and the duke’s own signature taste 

“You’re like no other. Not a day goes by that I don’t want to hold you close sweetheart…”

He brushed his nose against yours, eyes moving slowly from your lips, to your eyes, and back again. A swell of emotion poured through him, his desires going beyond just wanting to give you his seed, but it was something more. Your last name…it was wrong. He never wanted to take a wife, in fact, he’d vowed never to do such a thing, but you’d changed the very fiber of his being from the moment he’d found you.

“After my son is born, I’ll give you the best gift I can, the only gift I can give a woman of such importance…oh my…g…”

The duke lost himself, holding you tightly against him, though careful not to squeeze against your stomach too harshly. His choked moans vibrated against your chest while he filled you, pumping your body with his cum once again. You felt your own climax wash over your body, inspired by his own, drawing everything it could from him as it did, both of you a trembling, moaning mess.

He sighed with contentment after his mind cleared. He looked at you once more. 

“I’m going to keep you,” he kissed your lips breathlessly, “I’m going to keep you here with me. I’m going to give you my name, and until the day I die you’ll be mine, my precious thing.” He pecked you again, and then pressed his lips to your stomach.

“I can’t wait to have your name, sir, and to be able to walk around the castle freely,” you said softly.

Leto’s blood ran cold. 

Walk around freely…

Perhaps you’d misunderstood him, in fact, he was certain of it. He could see how his words may have been misconstrued. Evidently he would need to be more clear with you. The duke’s gaze darkened when he looked back into your eyes.

“My sweet girl.” He cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead. “Until the day you are barren, I cannot risk any harm to you, nor your body.” His words were chilling, but his gaze was warm. 

“You’ll never leave this room, so long as I can help it.”

Duke Leto Atreides Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[themology]

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐄𝐑

(𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑥 𝑓𝑒𝑚!𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑑!𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑥 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑜𝑛)

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗮 𝗺𝗮𝗶𝗱, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗮𝗶𝗱𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗳, 𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲... 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹.

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮: 𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰 (18+), 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑬𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬, 𝑭!𝑺𝑼𝑩, 𝑴!𝑫𝑶𝑴, 𝑷𝑬𝑵𝑬𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑽𝑬 𝑺𝑬𝑿, 𝑶𝑹𝑨𝑳 𝑺𝑬𝑿 (𝑴𝑨𝑳𝑬 𝑹𝑬𝑪𝑬𝑰𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑮), 𝑺𝑷𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮, 𝑪𝑯𝑶𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮, 𝑼𝑵𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑻𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑺𝑬𝑿 (𝑺𝑨𝑭𝑬 𝑺𝑬𝑿 𝑰𝑺 𝑮𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑬𝑿, 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻𝒀 𝑷𝑷𝑳!), 𝑺𝑳𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 𝑯𝑨𝑰𝑹 𝑷𝑼𝑳𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑮, 𝑭𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑼𝑪𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮, 𝑪𝑳𝑰𝑻 𝑹𝑼𝑩𝑩𝑰𝑵𝑮, 𝑷𝑹𝑨𝑰𝑺𝑬, 𝑫𝑬𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑫𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵, 𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑼𝑰𝑻𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑼𝑺𝑨𝑮𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 "𝑺𝑰𝑹", 𝑫𝑼𝑩𝑪𝑶𝑵???

ᴡᴏʀᴅs: 2,253

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

The two of you snapped out of it at the deep, accusatory voice of Felix coming from the doorway. At the sound of his voice, Oliver took hold of your hair and pulled your lips away from his cock, making you look up at the man at the doorway, your spit coating your lips.

"Sir, I... I am so, so sorry... Sir Oliver said that he needed my assistance." you told him quietly, looking down with a shameful expression painting over your features. Oliver just sat there, not moving an inch, and the slightest bit of pride showed on his face.

Felix looked at the two of you, clearly not amused at this sight, "Oh, and this "assistance" just happens to involve your mouth on his cock? You're a maid, not some classless whore."

The more that he spoke, the more ashamed you felt, and the more ashamed you felt, admittedly, the more aroused you were.

"Felix, why do you seem so angry? Aren't you glad I found a way to put your sweet, little maid to good use? She's just such a good helper, aren't you, darling?" Oliver finally interjected, still holding onto your hair and stroking your cheek.

You nodded, still too embarrassed and ashamed to say a word. You could practically feel Felix's eyes burning into you as his gaze flicked back and forth between you and Oliver. Oliver still looked at him proudly, clearly not caring about how he was presenting himself in front of the other young man.

"And you," Felix then looked over at him, shaking his head, "I always knew you were some sort of perverted creep, but to have one of the maids come and suck you off while I'm just down the hall is sickening..."

Once again, you felt wretched for even doing this in the first place. All you were trying to do was do your job well, but never in your wildest dreams would you have thought that you would be here, on your knees while a man used your mouth as his own personal fleshlight.

"Please," you pleaded with Felix, "Please, Sir Felix, please don't terminate my employment here... I'll do anything, I swear on the Lord's name."

At this, the other young man's eyebrow seemed to quirk upwards in a mixture of both curiosity and amusement. Oh, god. This is the part where he fires you on the spot. Just as you began to brace yourself for whatever you were going to hear from his mouth next, you became shocked at what you finally did hear from him.

"Then get the hell over here and suck my cock, too. I mean, since you want to be a greedy slut, you might as well take all that you can get, yeah?" he told you, beckoning you over with a singular finger.

The mere thought of it sent a shiver down your spine, and you immediately got onto your hands and knees before crawling over to Felix. He watched you intently, studying every inch of your body, every curve, every hair, every freckle, every mole... The way he looked at you intimidated you a little bit but at the same time, it left you feeling aroused and secretly quite desperate.

"Well, go on now, love. Take these trousers off... I won't bite, yet." Felix told you, tilting your gaze up so that he could properly make eye contact with you.

With a hand now lacing through your hair, he wasted no time in practically shoving his cock so far down your throat that you nearly choked. As you gagged while your throat stretched to accommodate the size, you could hear the sound of him groaning from the pleasure that he was receiving from you.

While you sucked on Felix's cock leisurely, you heard the sound of footsteps coming up behind you before feeling a pair of hands on you. It was Oliver, who had finally decided to join in and make his presence known to the both of you.

"Look at him," you heard his voice in your ear, soft enough for you to hear, but firm enough for you to understand the meaning of it, "Look up at him while you suck him nice and well, sweet girl. You can be good, can't you?"

You nodded before inhaling deeply and taking him in down your throat as far as you could before you coughed and sputtered again, your eyes now flickering up to meet his, which in turn made his grip tighter on your hair and let out another grunt of ecstasy. As your mouth kept at work, you moved your hands up to join your mouth, moving up and down on his cock rhythmically, the slick sound of his precum and your saliva that coated the length of his cock now making itself prevalent in the room.

"Fuck... Who knew a maid's mouth could feel wetter than any cunt I've ever had?" Felix pondered aloud as he watched you continue with your duties. With another groan, he pulled you off of the floor, only to lead you to the bed, pushing you down so that your upper body lay against the freshly made mattress, bent over the length of the bed.

"Sir F-Felix, I-I-" you tried to speak, only for him to reach over from behind you and push his fingers past your lips and into your mouth, gagging you and letting the saliva run down from your mouth to his hand, eventually his wrist, while your mouth made a choked sound from the considerable fill his appendages made down your throat.

"I'm going to fuck you, now, and if you do not shut the fuck up, I'll make sure to keep my fingers down your throat until you pass out from the oxygen loss." Felix threatened you, and while, yes, it was definitely meant to be in a menacing manner, it just further aided your arousal.

You then squeaked when you felt his hand traveling up the back of your thigh before reaching for your skirt, flipping it up, and revealing your underwear, much to your chagrin. You heard the two young men chuckle as they caught a glimpse of the fabric of your panties.

"Look at that, her panties have little flowers on them. How cute." Felix tells Oliver before pulling his now wet fingers out of your mouth and pulling the underwear down with one swift motion. You then shivered at the feeling of cool air now washing over your body and settling over the wetness of your cunt.

Without another word to you or Oliver, you felt the thick, heavy tip of his cock slide over your asscheek before finally brushing over your cunt, sliding through the slickness of your folds, making you shiver and him groan once again.

"Fuck... I can already tell you'll be so warm wrapped around me... Let's see if you are as tight as you are warm." He then finally pushes his way inside of you, making you gasp from the sheer size of his cock, moaning as you felt every inch, every minuscule detail of his cock as he slowly slid into you, making the two of you fit together like the pieces to a puzzle.

"S-Sir Felix, I-I- oh... You... You're so deep..." You whined softly, pressing your cheek into the mattress below you.

After a while, you had finally managed to adjust to the size of his cock and this opened up the doorway for Felix to begin thrusting, his hips meeting your ass with each movement. As he fucked you, you could still feel Oliver's eyes studying the both of you, and the mere thought of him being present in the room with you, watching as Felix fucked you with ease, made you wetter than any fantasy you had ever had.

"God, Ollie... I wish you could feel her. She's like... a fuckdoll, but real. Her cunt is so, so fucking tight." he laughed, now thrusting in harder, his hips now colliding with the plump, supple flesh of your ass while he reached up, wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling you closer, the sensation restricting your breathing ever-so-slightly. The now-sudden change of pace and rhythm made you practically shriek from the pure, raw pleasure you were subjected to.

And then, he stopped.

Just as you were about to whine at the loss of movement on his end, you felt his large hands grip you by the hips before pulling you off of the bed and positioning you onto your knees, kneeling on the floor in front of Oliver again.

"Now, you're going to be a good maid and clean. Clean him up, alright? Suck him dry." Felix tells you, but the tone of voice he uses with you makes you realize that it is more of an order than a request. You looked up at Oliver nervously before wrapping your hands around the base of his cock.

"Yes, sir..." Was all you could manage to reply before you leaned in and began to press kisses against the flaccid head of his cock before placing your hand out in front of it, spitting into your palm, and beginning to massage the length of his cock with both your hands, the sounds of his low groans and the wetness echoing throughout the room.

"Did you listen to anything that I just said? I didn't say give him a handjob. Suck. Him. Dry." he snapped, pushing your face towards Oliver's cock. With a heavy breath, you opened your mouth before taking his cock into your mouth and back down your throat, this time controlling your breathing so you wouldn't choke as much as the last time.

Oliver groaned when he felt you move your tongue against the length of his cock, the tip of your tongue tracing every ridge and vein that you could find. You then felt his hand on your hair, burying into your scalp and pushing you down further onto his cock and making you gag once more. You looked up at him to find that he was already looking down at you, and you could've sworn that he had the slightest hint of a grin on his face.

"Fuck, Felix... Christ, I might need to keep this maid of yours all to myself. She's just too sweet and too fucking pretty to let go..." He laughed, his attention now focused back on you as you choked again.

Soon enough, you could tell that he was getting closer to his orgasm, judging by how he began to grasp onto the back of your hair and how his grunts became an octave louder. And, yes, you were correct, as not even a moment later, you felt him tug at your hair once again before you heard him groan and the warm, sticky sensation of his cum going down your throat.

Once you swallowed it, Oliver then pulled away from you, allowing Felix to have a turn with you. You watched the taller boy with intrigue and arousal as you watched him wrap his hand around the thick base of his cock, jerking himself off and gasping softly as he looked back into your eyes.

"Oh, fucking hell... Keep looking at me like that, sweet girl. Yeah, just like that." He groaned finally before he threw his head back, his moans now echoing through the room as he finally reached his climax, his eyes rolling back as his cum now painted your face.

Once the two of them had become spent, you were about to get up and leave before you saw Oliver go over and sit on the bed, beckoning you over with a singular finger. You then slowly came over to him, only for him to pull you close and have you sit on his lap, spreading your legs wide and far enough for him to reach down and begin massaging your sensitive clit, causing you to let out a whine.

"Oh! Oh, my god!" you practically sobbed as he picked up the pace before you heard him chuckle from behind you.

"I'm Oliver, not God, darling. But, I appreciate the sentiment." he teased you, putting more pressure behind your fingers and rubbing harder. You gasped, your thighs beginning to quaver as you reached closer and closer to your climax.

You then sighed softly as he leaned into you, whispering in your ear, "Can you do me a favor, love? Look up at Felix for me, please. Let him see that beautiful face of yours when I make you come."

You nodded, your eyes now shifting upwards to meet Felix's gaze, whimpering quietly as you felt his penetrating stare, gasping as you got closer and closer.

"It's okay, my darling. Be a really good girl and come for the both of us."

With those words and a bit more pressure being applied to your aching clit, you practically burst into tears from the pleasure as you came, your orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks, your back arching up and off his chest.

"Good... Good girl. Such a good little helper, aren't you?" He whispered, kissing your forehead, making you nod in your dazed state. Felix then leaned down and kissed you, too.

"We're so proud of you, love. You did great. What a sweet little maid you are." He tells you, stroking his fingers along your forehead almost lovingly.

[themology]

saw this pop up on my timeline. the more i hear about this family the more my appreciation for them grows.

[themology]

[themology]

im screaming

i would, lh43

you and luke really like to piss each other off.

or

four times you and luke almost kiss and the one time it finally happens

this is toxicity, angst and a little fluff all rolled into one. enjoy! <3 (7.6k) this is very much not proofread

one.

you were sure luke hughes was one of life’s greatest mysteries. to put it lightly, he was sweet until he wasn’t. 

you’d warned him before the two of you started dating in your shared freshman year that you’d been through a lot.

you warned him that sometimes you needed a minute alone, that sometimes you could self-destruct, and that sometimes you lost yourself in your brain and that someone else would take over for a while

he promised you that he’d work with you, that he understood what you were explaining and that he could surely handle it. 

he promised he’d do anything he could to help you get back into your head whenever you felt out of it, that he’d keep his head on straight for the both of you so that the two of you could work through rough stages.

clearly you hadn’t prepared him well enough, or clearly he overestimated his level headedness. 

it sucked for the both of you that you still had to see each other every day, regardless of whether or not he was on the road, cause you’d be there too. 

you’d been warned by every girl in every stage of life that dating in the workplace was a horrible idea. you promised them it was hardly work, you weren't even around that much. you were wrong again.

when the two of you broke up, you opted to stay with the team as the media intern. after all, you agreed to be friends. 

that went sour quickly, because all the arguing that took place in the confines of his dorm or your sisters apartment carried onto your friendship, and consequently in the halls of yost.

the more the two of you would argue, the more you both got petty. 

today was no different, and you weren’t trying to work him up on purpose, but when the opportunity arose you took it and ran.

a trend on tiktok had started, talking about red flags. the monday question you chose was something along the lines of ‘what is your weirdest / stupidest red flag’ 

most of the players responded as you expected them to - something like mixing jams on their toast or putting hot sauce on their bagels.

you weren’t even expecting him to acknowledge you, because since the breakup, luke had avoided monday questions, as well as your camera, altogether. 

you weren't sure what had pissed him off today, or what was going through his brain when he decided he was gonna be sour right off the bat, but his response was surely something.

“my ex girlfriend is an obsessive bitch,” you covered your mouth to keep yourself from laughing. you knew he was just being an asshole for the purpose of trying to get to you, but the words truly sounded unnatural coming from his mouth.

luke figured you would delete the video and move on with your day, get back at him with some mean comment another time, but instead you decided to take it a little further than he was intending.

after practice was over, you sat in the cubby a few down from his and began to edit the videos you’d taken of the boys together, and you saved it. then, you took the new video and added the clip of luke to the end, playing on full volume and repeating itself as you pretended to adjust the beginning to the previous clip of dylan running away.

the few guys that were left in the dressing room looked at eachother, and luke was already staring you down.

the rest of the team had learned to tune the two of you out. seeing as you were friends with most of them even before you dated luke, none of them chose sides and they all believed that eventually the two of you would get tired of pissing each other off and quit it. alternately, luke would just leave for jersey and peace would be restored. 

“what? why are you looking at me like that?” you mumbled defensively, eyeing him like he was a weirdo.

“you’re putting that in the actual video?” you raised an eyebrow, smile etched onto your face like it was drawn with a sharpie. what you weren’t expecting was for luke to take a deep breath, and look away.

you continued to edit the clip, up until the remaining players had all left yost and you felt luke’s eyes burning into your skull again.

he stood up calmly, and walked over to you.

you looked up at him and stood as well, slowly backing out of the doors in the dressing room. he followed, speeding up to keep you at an arms length

“delete that, y/n, i swear to god,” you realized he was trying to corner you, and though he physically outmatched you any day of the week, he was failing spectacularly at it.

you did your best at playing keep away with the umich media phone, and backed your way into the visitors dressing room.

“delete it? fat chance. i was actually thinking i might put it up, i can never seem to get content of you unless-“ you groaned as your back hit the wall, luke holding you against it with his hips

“unless i’m too pissed to shove the phone out of my face?” you grinned, slinging your arms around his neck and leaning into his touch, your chests pressed taught to each other so you couldn’t slip from his grasp.

“you know, if i get early onset back pain, i'm blaming you. now can we quit it with the dramatics? i have a very charming video of you to edit for the tiktok page” luke just pressed you closer to the wall, ignoring the grin you gave him to show how much you’d actually been liking the closeness.

“you wouldn’t,” he tried to grab the phone from your hands, placed behind his neck, but you were quick to tuck it into your bra so he couldn’t access it.

“i would.” his jaw clenched and you kept straight eye contact, loving how irritated he was getting so quickly.

“baby,” he stated, taking a deep breath.

“i was being a dick, and i’m sorry. but we don’t need to make that a public thing,” you bit your lip, pretending like you were contemplating it before you replied to him

“we’re using baby again?” he licked his lips, grabbing your hands from his shoulders and holding them.

his eyes softened and he paused before using what was probably the sweetest tone you’d ever gotten from him

“if you want me to use baby, yes, i’ll call you whatever you like”

“i’m not falling for that,” his soft, convincing face fell flat and his eyes went from hopeful right back to angry and endlessly frustrated

after a few moments standing there waiting for him to find a new game plan, you bit your lip and started messing with a few of his curls

“you ever miss me, lukey?” he pulled his head away from your hands, the gentle aspect of your touch giving him an unneeded reminder of  the fact that you could be a sweetheart, you were just choosing not to be

“not a chance in hell” you smiled to hide the pang in your chest, but he saw through you, holding the back of your head

“you’re always right here annoying me, hm? no time to miss you” he corrected, tracing circles on your scalp with his thumb. you poked your cheek with your tongue, looking down for a quick second before ultimately looking right back into his eyes, trying to read what he was thinking

this is what you assumed he was talking about when he used to always tell you he’d figure things out, that you’d always make up after a fight - that he’d look at you like this and see that you were struggling 

that he would feel what you were feeling for even just a split second and correct himself, even if he was lying, just to cover up the ache in your chest.

this, to you, was confirmation that he could read you like that. that he can see through any mask you put up and had truly just given up on you. 

he sighed, and you saw his eyes move to your lips, then back up to your eyes. he was leaning forward, and just like that, he was pulling away and clearing his throat.

“could you please delete the video for me? m’ sorry about how i spoke to you” your entire body felt cold without him against it, and you wished whatever thought in his mind that made him want to kiss you would’ve fucked off, so the two of you could’ve stayed pressed up against each other forever.

“i’m not that mean, lu. i’ll delete it” he smiled and ruffled your hair, walking away as quickly as possible.

it bears repeating; you were sure luke hughes was one of life’s greatest mysteries.

two

your favourite part about going to michigan, as well as being close with one of the sports teams, was the parties. 

you weren’t even sure how they pulled it off, but you couldn’t think of a single time you’d been invited to a umich party and didn’t have a night worth remembering (even if you could barely remember it).

tonight was no different, and it started with mark and ethan fighting over who got to be your partner in beer pong. 

you decided it would be a best of three challenge, and the loser was stuck with luke, who was notorious for only having aim once he was plastered enough to faint. the winner got to be with you, who had the ongoing win streak among the sophomores.

first was a game of rock paper scissors, that was promptly won by ethan, seeing as mark always went rock. 

he’d even mentioned before the challenge that he always lost since he always picked rock, so you’d told him to simply not pick rock - he did it anyways.

the second round was seeing who could shotgun the fastest, which was ultimately taken by mark when ethan got cocky and gave him a three second head start.

safe to say, mark had been almost done by the time ethan even had his lips over the hole in his can.

the third challenge was a headstand contest, mostly because you just wanted to see the two of them try to uphold a headstand for more than five seconds.

mark took that one on the guise that ethan had cheated and used the wall to keep himself up. if you could have made them both lose, you would have.

however, when you decided that ethan was in fact a cheater, mark cheered and tossed you over his shoulder, leading the group of you back to the beer pong table 

ethan was pouty about having to pair up with luke, and luke was pouty about having to be around you, but you and marks energies were off the charts regardless.

you all decided that you’d have to drink ethan’s cups, mark would have to drink luke’s, and vice versa.

luke started, and sunk one ball, but completely missed the other. 

mark quickly downed the drink and took the balls, missing the first off the rim of a bottom row cup, but sinking the second one perfectly. 

luke drank nonchalantly and handed the ball from his cup to ethan, who just barely missed both of his shots. you grinned to yourself, centring yourself to the table before taking your shot.

your turn was similar to marks, but your first ball had bounced just before the cup at the top row and landed into luke’s hand.

ethan drank the cup you got for your second shot, sending you a playful glare. 

“this should be you right now, marky. nobody said we couldn’t use the wall” you rolled your eyes, feeling mark sling his arm around your shoulders 

“i won fair and square, eddy. you’re just butthurt cause you suck at shotgunning and got too cocky” luke quickly took his turn so you’d all shut up, missing horribly on both shots.

you raised an eyebrow at him, silently wondering how his on ice hand eye coordination translated this horrendously in throwing a ping pong ball 

mark got two of his shots, but none in his balls back attempt, and luke quickly drank, a little more urgently this time around. 

ethan got one this time around, and you happily drank the contents of the cup, licking the foam of the beer from your lips once you were done. 

you also sunk two balls, but you got your second shot with balls back, leaving three cups on ethan and luke’s side and eight on yours.

ethan pouted before drinking his first cup, taking a short pause before cramming the next two one after the other. 

he caught his breath before looking over at you with beer dripping from his chin 

“i should’ve made hughesy drink your cups,” you giggled, and luke slapped him on the shoulder with a glare.

when the game came back around to you, they only had two cups left, and you got them both.

mark cheered loudly, rattling you around by your shoulders as you laughed at his reaction. 

you and mark had always been close. something about his energy just gave you the sense that you’d never have to stress about him. you were very much the ‘call each other babe platonically’ type of friends. 

he was easygoing and he just wanted to have a good time, but he was still a good friend if need be.

luke apparently hadn’t caught that memo, cause he looked like he was about ready to stab his teammate.

his jaw was clenched tight and he was just watching the two of you celebrate with complete dread on his face, while ethan finished off his beer

you picked up on it right away, and decided you’d chance luke being unbelievably pissed at you if it meant he might admit to himself he still had feelings for you.

“are we playing again?” you asked, looking up at mark who shook his head, pulling you away from the table.

“what? you want to get up to something else?” he grinned, earning a soft smile and a push to his chest.

“dance with me?” he nodded, grabbing one of the remaining cups from your side and pulling you towards the group of students essentially using the living room of soph house as a make out spot.

luke wasn’t one to dance, but mark was too drunk to care and you didn’t think he’d be leaving your side anytime soon, so you took advantage

he wasn’t half bad, the two of you mostly feeding off each other rather than the music. that was until his drink ran out, and he wanted another one.

“you want a beer, babe?” you nodded softly, tilting your head up and leaning it on his shoulder.

he smiled, kissing you on the cheek and noting that he’d be right back, quickly disappearing into the swarm of bodies towards one of the coolers.

“mark? really?” it was luke.

rather than bite back, you went with it, knowing he might be more annoyed if he thought you were genuinely going out with mark

you hummed, turning to face him. “he’s a sweetheart. maybe you could learn a thing or two” both of you knew that what you were saying was utter bullshit. regardless, luke was irked.

“are we thinking of the same mark?” he slid a finger into the belt loop of your jeans and pulled you forward, keeping you close to him and simultaneously letting you know his strength.

“handsome? fluffy hair? pretty solid with his mouth?” luke scoffed, looking behind you to make sure mark wasn’t almost back.

when his eyes came back down to yours they were dark, and he was wearing a harsh glare.

“you wouldn’t. you’re not” you smiled, almost giggling at him

“yeah, but i would, though. is your new girlfriend not at this party? thought i saw her working one of the football players. is this your thing? getting one upped by other athletes? is there an embarrassment kink im not aware of?”

before you could say anything else, his hand was over your mouth and he was grumbling at you to shut up

“not that it’s any of your business, i broke up with her. you need to start watching your fucking mouth” you pulled away from his hand, but he still had a tight grip on your jaw.

“if it was full maybe i’d stop talking,” you smiled, your facial expression almost challenging him

he licked his lips, thumb swiping over yours slightly in a way that made your heart jump out of your chest

he was leaning in and pulling your face to an angle where he could connect your lips, before his eyes flashed up and he saw mark coming back with a beer in one hand and a full bottle of liquor in the other.

“maybe your sweetheart mark will be up for that” he gave your jaw a squeeze before pushing your face away from his and walking off.

you put on a smile, turning around to see mark taking a swig of straight vodka.

“my lady,” he grinned, handing you your beer

you bit the cap off, drinking some of it before you hummed, pulling him towards you by the collar and resuming your dancing, back to his chest

“gimme some of that,” he giggled, putting the bottle in his hand up to your lips and guiding you through your swig

“luke came n’ saw you?” you nodded

“yeah.”

three

one of your favourite things to do in your free time was barge into soph house with absolutely no warning.

today, it was cause you and your other roommate had been momentarily kicked out of yours and your older sister's shared apartment so she had it to herself for her one year anniversary.

you announced your arrival when you walked in, your friend trailing behind you awkwardly while the boys shouted simultaneous greetings from the living room

“i brought a friend. it’s my sister's anniversary and there’s a metaphorical sock on our door,” your comment earned you chuckles from the group, and when you walked into the living room you scanned the furniture to see if there were two open spaces.

luke had been sitting by himself, mackie and dylan were sharing the loveseat, and ethan and mark were sharing the bigger couch. 

you tilted your head and squinted at ethan, who had been taking up two and a half cushions. he grinned in return, further stretching himself out so he’d been getting into marks personal space as well.

you opted to physically drag ethan from his spot, over so he’d just been taking up one cushion instead

he glared at you playfully, fighting back against your pushing until you were stuck pushing back against each other, causing the both of you to break out into laughter and for you to fall onto the couch

“scootch, edwards,” you worked out in between giggles, finally getting him to move over and sitting up yourself so there was some room for your friend 

when she sat, it was almost on top of you, since the couch wasn’t meant for four, and you could almost sense luke’s ears perking up like a dog being offered a treat

“you know if there’s not enough room over there i’m more than happy to share” he patted his lap, looking right at your roommate with a smirk playing at his lips.

you were quick to glare at him and shut the idea down, while mark pulled you into his own lap so your friend would have enough room, and hopefully so you and luke would drop it. 

your friend adjusted and then eyed luke, and then you

“i take it that’s luke,” you immediately slapped her arm and glared at her, knowing this would give luke enough ammunition to piss you off for however long you were at sophomore house 

you couldn’t even properly find time to warn him to forget he ever heard that before it started. 

“aw, baby, you tell your friends about me?” you smiled sarcastically, feeling mark grab the back of your shirt so you didn’t lunge at his teammate

“fuck right off, warren,” luke’s jaw ticked, and he opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by dylan 

“i’ll sit on your lap, lukey!” the group laughed, and luke tried to hide his smile. 

the sophomores had become extremely accustomed to changing the subject or interrupting you and luke when the two of you fought, seeing as you were over most days of the week

now that the room had become less tense, everyone was partaking in their own conversations.

you, ethan, mark and your friend had been talking about a class the four of you shared, while mackie, dylan and luke talked about the upcoming series against minnesota.

that continued until you felt your phone go off in your back pocket and pulled it out to see a text from your sister, telling you that you could make your way back to the apartment.

below it, to your shock, was a silenced text from luke.

from, luke hughes → kitchen?

to, luke hughes → ?

you looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed and heart pounding, and he was already looking at you.

you blinked and moved your eyes away, turning your head to mark who’d been deep in concentration listening to ethan.

“hey, my sister texted, we’re gonna get going” that caught the attention of dylan and ethan, which made mackie turn his head, and, well, luke had already been staring at you.

mark frowned, caging his arms around your waist to hug you. 

“it’s still early, you can stay,” you heard a jumble of voices agreeing with mark’s statement, and you could feel luke’s gaze burning through you.

you looked down at your roommate and she shrugged, since she’d accustomed pretty well to the sophomores already and wasn’t exactly dying to leave

“i’ll stay for free beer?” luke smiled to himself and made his way to the kitchen quietly, knowing nobody would really notice him while they were cheering at your words

you offered to go get everyone their bottles and got up, ruffling marks hair slightly before you walked over to their fridge and took out six beer, luke already sipping on one.

“you ask me over here to argue without getting interrupted?” luke grinned softly, taking three of the bottles and setting them on the island along with his own, nodding for you to do the same with the other three

you complied, and as soon as they hit the counter you were being backed up into it, his hips pinning you and his arms locking you in place 

“i just wanted to talk,” he explained, looking down at you with a sweet gaze that made your stomach turn 

“you know, you could’ve had mackie or duker sit on the other couch, fuck, you could’ve even pulled up a chair from the island or sat on the ground! but you just let him pull you into his lap like you're his?”

you rolled your eyes, trying to push his arm off the counter so you could squeeze away from him and bring everyone their drinks, but his grip tightened. 

“i’m talking to you, y/n,” he added pressure with his body so he could use a hand to make you look at him.

“how many times do i have to tell you i’m not sleeping with any of your friends?” you defended and he shrugged 

“i never said you were, i just pointed out that you two seem real fucking comfortable with each other lately,”

you sighed and cupped his neck with both hands, thumbs messing with the curls that fell behind his ears

“lu, nothings happening. nothing's going to happen. im not fucking mark just like you’re not actually gonna fuck my roommate,”

he didn’t react much, just kept staring into your eyes. 

“if not my friends then who are you with?” you smiled and shook your head 

“none of your business, hughesy.” he laughed dryly and moved his hand from your jaw around to the back of your neck, your faces so close his nose was brushing against yours.

your eyes both drifted to each other's lips, and you cleared your throat and backed your head away before he could kiss you. 

he moved off you and grabbed his beer, standing on the other side of the kitchen, now.

“maybe i’ll see you around your place, y/n,” he smirked before looking over at your roommate who was laughing at something dylan had said, and heading back to the living room 

“you wouldn’t,” you yelled after him.

“i would!” he called back, leaving you to groan to yourself and pick up the beers for everyone 

four

“adam! shea!” you smiled, trying to stand up off the bench you were on to go greet your friends, but tripping over the air and immediately deciding that you would be staying on the bench.

the two boys gave each other weird looks across the street from you, deciding to make their way over.

the two boys being luca and shea, who were obviously quite confused.

once they made their way there, they came to the conclusion that you were incredibly, extremely, outstandingly drunk.

“i want whatever she’s having,” luca chuckled, knowing he and his brother did not look alike in the slightest.

seamus slapped him up the back of the head, helping you to sit up properly and then taking his own place beside you to support your torso.

“dude, shut up. call mark, or eddy, even. we don’t know how long she’d been here” you were looking up at him, absolutely delirious and telling him about your childhood pet hamster that was named casey (like him!)

mark was down at the bus stop you were all sitting at in record time, now kneeling in front of you and trying to get an answer out of you as to why you were mind-blowingly wasted at two pm on a tuesday

when you just continued to murmur about nonsense, luca spoke up

“maybe we should bring her to luke?” seamus and mark both turned their heads to him very slowly, eyebrows raised and annoyance glaringly obvious in their eyes, and he lifted his arms in defence 

“i’m just saying! notice how all of their arguing is like, ultra petty? he never says anything that actually means shit. he definitely knows what's going on with her,”

they both thought about it, ultimately coming to the conclusion that it couldn’t do anymore harm than good - luke wasn’t a big enough dick to punch down, so maybe luca was right.

they looked at each other, “this is the worst idea anyone has ever had in the entire history of the university of michigan,” shea stated, already helping you onto your feet and having luca hold you up from the other side

“yeah,” mark nodded, texting luke a very vague message so that he’d be home and in the living room once the four of you got to soph house.

when you did, it was safe to say luke really did not want to have any part of it.

“no.” he shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest while he watched you fuss with seamus when he tried to set you on the wrong couch cushion, apparently. 

“wh-” mark tried to plead his case, but couldn’t even get a word out.

“no. not a chance, mark, just have her sleep it off, or something,” the two of them watched as luca brought you a water and you tried to convince him that you did have a water, only for him to open the lid and be hit with the smell of liquor. 

“hear me out,” mark started, giving luke a hopeful look and earning a confirming eye roll in return

“your friend needs help, and-” 

“your friend”

“fine, be like that! your ex, that you’re still in love with, by the way, needs help, and you’re the only one of us that has a chance in hell at knowing what it is that made her drink away her brain on a random fucking weekday, by herself, on the street,”

the room went silent, and even you had stopped rambling upon hearing the tone mark was using.

“so, if you could please just fucking talk to her for a minute to see if she gives you an idea? something? tells you what’s up? that would be glorious, luke,” 

luke clenched his jaw but looked over at you for a quick second, caving and nodding slightly 

“i’ll talk to her. alone, though,” he grumbled, and mark patted his shoulder, nodding to luca and seamus to go over to the kitchen 

he sat next to you, and you looked up at him, bringing your knees to your chest. 

“are you okay, y/n/n?” he asked softly, tilting his head at you. you blinked, clearly on the verge of blacking out

“luke,” you stated simply, earning a sad smile from him 

“what did i tell you about drinking to forget, hm?” he reached around you, burying his hand in your hair and massaging your scalp gently 

“said no,” you replied, barely above a whisper. you were hiding from his gaze, now.

he watched you for a moment, trying to see if there was anything on you to help him out. 

his eyebrows furrowed at the sight of your phone case, the polaroid that had been in the back of it since before he knew you now flipped so you couldn’t see what it was.

“can i see that?” he asked, pointing to your phone.

you handed it to him reluctantly, watching as he peeled the case off and slid the picture out from under it.

it was a picture of you and your father. you were just a baby, and your dad had been wearing a party hat and feeding you a bite of cake 

the back read; dads 31st birthday! 02/07/04

he turned your phone around and knocked his knuckle against the screen, reading the date once it lit up

tuesday, february 7

“oh, baby. cmere,” he mumbled, pulling you into his lap gently and holding your head to his chest.

your body shook against his as you sobbed, still painfully aware of the occasion no matter how inebriated you were

he held you still until you calmed down, and when he opened up the shield he’d made with his arms he found that you were sound asleep against him, face beet red and soaked with tears

he adjusted you slowly, lifting your arms around his shoulders so he could carry you without waking you up.

he looked over to mark who nodded with an appreciative smile, then carefully carried you upstairs and towards his room.

he set you down and took off your shoes, then grabbed a water bottle and some medicine for you, setting them down and slipping into bed next to you. 

you found your way to his chest and slept peacefully while he zoned out, brushing his hand through your hair soothingly.

when you did wake up, it was slowly and difficultly. it had been a few hours, your mouth felt dry and your head felt heavy.

you felt dizzy, but not from the hangover. from luke, holding you close to him.

you let out a noise of confusion, and luke stiffened, looking down at you.

rather than pay mind to the millions of emotions coursing through him, he decided to focus on sitting you up and getting you to drink some water.

you just listened, waiting to ask what the hell had happened until after you were feeling a little less undead.

“uh, luca and shea found you by one of the bus stops. you called luca adam, so they came up to you, n called mark” you looked down, tears brimming your eyes.

“oh.. okay,” you whispered, fidgeting with your own fingers awkwardly.

he gave you a minute to compose yourself before setting the polaroid on your lap 

“he would’ve been fifty today,” he stated softly, looking at where your eyes would have been had you been facing him.

you wiped your face roughly, groaning to yourself while luke silently begged you to look at him

“maybe we can take a little trip to go see him, yeah? i’ll stop at the store and we can get him a card n’ some flowers,” he offered, rubbing your upper back soothingly 

“you’d do that for me?”

“i would. or i can explain everything to mark, and he can take you, if you wanted?” you shook your head quickly 

“no. no, uh,” you sniffled, taking the water he’d gotten you from his night stand and sipping carefully from it 

“the whole reason i like being around him so much is that he doesn’t know everything, and he doesn’t need to know everything,” you explained, finally looking up at him with glossy eyes and a red nose

“i can zone out for a minute and he won’t ask me if i’m okay, he’ll just slap the back of my head and tell me i need a nap,” you chuckled 

you’d made it a point to keep the shitty aspects of your life away from mark. 

he knew you’d been through a lot, but he didn’t know any details and he never asked about it, respecting your boundaries 

“it’s easy around him, you know?” luke nodded slightly, a questioning look in his eyes 

“i wish it could’ve been that simple with you, but there are things that cant be kept from a partner the way they can from a friend, it’s different,” 

the two of you sat in silence for a minute, luke having opened the bottle of ibuprofen for you and handing you two to take 

once you sipped away the weird feeling in your throat with water, you gave him a hopeful look

“are you still up to take me?” he smiled sadly and nodded, slowly moving from his bed and over to his closet.

“here,” he handed you a hoodie and his varsity jacket, nodding in a way that told you to put them on. 

you stood carefully and put the sweater on, overwhelmed by the smell of him lingering on the collar 

the jacket was both too big on you but a perfect fit, the bottom landing a little above your knees and the sleeves covering up to the tips of your fingers 

you put your shoes back on and gave him a look before going over to the bathroom, scanning the counter until you found something that could suffice as a face wash 

you pulled your sleeves up and washed the mascara from your cheeks, then grabbed a clean towel to pat your face dry.

you went to go cup your hands under the cool water to drink before some mouthwash, but you spotted the toothbrush you kept here while you’d been dating luke in his corner of things 

your lips parted and you blinked, almost thinking it would go away once you opened your eyes again. 

when it didn’t, you took the cover off the top of it to find it in the same condition you left it, so you rinsed it well before using it. 

luke walked out of his shared room, now in a hoodie of his own, and froze when he saw you

you avoided his eyes, pulling your hair from your face while you spat out the toothpaste and then rinsed your mouth with water. 

you pulled your sleeves back down and walked over to where he was waiting on the stairs, flicking the light off and keeping your head down 

“i, uh, just kept forgetting to toss it,” he cleared his throat, eyes flashing over to you and quickly moving away

you just nodded, making your way down the stairs and seeing the three boys who had brought you home playing video games on the couch

shea was the first to notice you, smiling to himself at the sight of you drowning in luke’s clothes.

he nudged marks knee with his own to grab his attention, nodding over to you and luke who’d been awkwardly standing there

mark looked up and grinned at you, setting his controller down and getting up to trap you in a bear hug

“how’s the head, dumbass,” you smiled bashfully, resting your face against his chest and hugging him back 

“throbbing. thanks for coming to get me,” he hummed in response, ruffling your hair and moving away from you 

“you’re bringing her home?” mark asked, eyes directed at luke

he looked at you and you answered for him

“we’re going on a little road trip. be back in a few hours,” mark tried his best not to let glee take over his face too obviously.

he sent luke a knowing look, a callback to their earlier conversation where mark had outright exposed him for still being in love with you

you smiled and waved to shea and luca, who returned the favour, luca yelling after you as you walked away with a “you kids have fun! wear protection!” which earned him a slap on the head from seamus. 

the drive to the grocery store was quiet, luke’s bluetooth playing quietly through the speakers of his car and you humming along to some of the songs you knew.

the two of you opted to grab something to eat from the deli as well, and luke offered to pay for both the meals and the card and flowers you’d gotten for your dad.

you were reluctant, but he had blocked you away from the debit machine when it was presented to you, so you settled for slipping a twenty into the pocket of his jacket so he’d get it whenever you took it off and gave it back.

you weren’t opposed to the silence, but sharing it with luke did make it a little more uncomfortable than it should’ve been.

you were dreadfully aware that the two of you did need to have a good talk, and work out whatever it was that had torn your friendship to bits after the breakup, but maybe that's better off happening later on.

when he pulled into the parking lot at the cemetery your dad had been buried at, you looked over at him before getting out

“thank you for doing this for me, lu,” he nodded sweetly, mumbling a soft “of course, baby,” in response

your heart fluttered at his tone, as well as the genuine use of ‘baby’, and you gave him a close-lipped smile before opening the door to his car and grabbing your things, waiting for him to get out with you.

the two of you walked to your dads headstone, sitting on the grass by it and laying the flowers and the card.

“if you want a minute by yourself, i can-” you grabbed his hand before he could move to stand up, shaking your head and looking up at him with teary eyes 

“just, stay,” you breathed out, and he nodded, wrapping his free arm around you and squeezing the hand that he’d been holding 

you cried silently, staring at the stone with tears streaming down your face, leaving lines of red from the irritated skin.

you felt luke start to gently brush his thumb along your knuckles, and you grimaced to yourself, looking down into your lap to try and keep yourself together 

luke frowned, pulling you into his lap and cradling your head, one hand still holding yours 

you took a deep breath, torso shaking as you squeezed his hand like you’d been getting your first tattoo.

when you looked up at him, you saw the luke you knew at the beginning of your relationship, and not the one you constantly bickered with. 

he pushed his nose next to yours, lips nearly brushing against each others, but he waited for you to initiate it. 

instead, you pulled away and tried to move away from his hug, heart aching in your chest and guilt taking over your head 

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, opting to lean your head into his neck since he hadn’t loosened his grip. 

“no, it’s.. it’s okay, y/n,” he sounded unsure, but the words eased your mind nonetheless 

“i can’t go through what we did again, i can’t keep going in that circle, luke, we suck for each other,” you explained, pulling your hand from his and beginning to mess with the sleeves of his jacket 

“i can be better at that, y/n/n, i want to help,” you shook your head, finally managing to move off him 

“you said that last time, and you lied. i don’t blame you, luke, i was shitty too. but i think we’re better off as friends,”

he pursed his lips, nodding. he knew you were right. 

+ one

“have you ever been to an nhl game before?” ellen asked, getting soup ready for quinn, who was recovering on the couch. 

“uh, no, and i hardly had time to pay attention to any of the wolverines games, i was always editing,” you chuckled awkwardly, knowing your knowledge of crowds at sporting events was very limited and you’d likely be caught sitting with jim looking incredibly confused. 

you knew you would feel out of place, especially at a playoff game. 

luke wasn't even aware that you were in new jersey, let alone that you’d be in attendance to his first playoff game.

you had finals and things to do for the team’s media page during his first nhl games, and though you weren’t dating, you knew he wanted you there for them due to the devils jersey he had sent you after he signed his contract.

not only did you still have things to do in ann arbor, but you definitely could not afford a place to stay or plane tickets to new jersey.

then, ellen had messaged you with the news that she’d be stuck babying quinn for the next while, and offered you her ticket to the game along with help for your plane tickets.

truly, it was the least she could do, as her son hadn’t shut up about you since the moment she got to newark, and she could no longer stand hearing him complain about how much he missed you, only to correct everyone when they referred to you as his girlfriend.

the game could not have been anymore hectic. it ended 8-4 devils, but with four combined short handed goals, the canes rookie goalie being subbed in, and luke getting two points.

the rock was loud, but the energy felt less overwhelming over time and you got used to the cheers and yelling eventually.

you went with jim to wait for jack and luke, neither of which were expecting you.

jack came out first, and completely neglected his father as he greeted you with a hug, asking how you’d been and when you got to town.

you were still hugging when luke made his way out, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of a pair of arms around his brother’s waist.

when he got close enough to see that it was you, you were promptly pulled away from jack and lifted into luke’s arms, feet a few inches off the ground from how tightly he’d been hugging onto you.

“oh, jesus. hi, lukey,” you giggled, squeezing him back just as tight. you hadn’t been wearing the jersey, knowing the broadcasts had a tendency to pan to jim up in the stands and not wanting to make a big deal out of it

“how long have you been in jersey? how did you get here? where did you get the ticket, y/n, what the fuck” he rambled, a big smile etched onto his face during the whole ordeal.

he set you down but kept his arms around you, rocking the two of you back and forth while his older brother and dad watched in amusement.

your face went completely serious, and you tried to keep it that way as you spoke “oh, well, i came down to help with quinn after his tonsils and your mom offered me her ticket,” luke shook his head, ruffling your hair and holding your head to his chest 

“i hate you,” he mumbled as you laughed against him.

“no, you don’t” you pulled back a few inches, grabbing his wrist and leading him to the exit jack and jim had already started making their way to.

“no, i don’t,” he pulled back on your wrist, bringing you back into his chest so the two of you were looking at each other.

he lowered his face and kissed you, and for how long overdue it was, he was very tame.

it was gentle, and slow, and he’d been gliding his hands up and down your hips soothingly. your hands came up behind his neck to mess with the hair at its nape and you pulled away for air, but went right back in.

when the two of you finally pulled away completely, luke was blushing madly and you were hiding away in his neck.

“that’s.. certainly one way to prove it,” you breathed out, chuckling slightly.

“can i prove it some more on the way home?” he raised an eyebrow, tilting your head back up to face him.

“with your brother driving us? you wouldn’t,” he grinned, shaking his head.

“i would. you underestimate how long i’ve been waiting for that,”

[themology]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄. | 𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | dominic cobb recruits you to influence your boss to split his company, but the dream you enter becomes more than you bargained for as you learn what robert fischer really thinks of you. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | robert fischer (inception) x fem!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3.6k 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut (MDNI!), unprotected sex, a whiff of breeding kink, mentions of oral sex (f!receiving), i can't stop thinking about cillian's bandy little chest so it makes an appearance 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | this is a little weird but HEAR ME OUT IM PROUD OF IT OK // taglist blog: @cremebruhleewrites

When the man named Cobb first approached you, you had rejected his offer. He hadn’t done a very deep explanation of what he needed your help with; something about getting some sort of information from your boss. You had asked him what exactly he wanted you to do, and he had said, “You are going to infiltrate Fischer’s dreams and put an idea into his subconscious.” Of course, you called him crazy. How in the actual hell do you infiltrate people’s dreams? That wasn’t a thing, and you didn’t believe him in the slightest. Cobb seemed to be merely a man who was trying to con you, because what the fuck else was he doing?

And then he proved you wrong. After he finally convinced you to at least hear him out and do a trial run of the dream hacking, along with up-front payment, you allowed him to hook you up to that suspect machine. When you fell asleep, your dream was more surreal than ever before. You could see everything clearly, you could hear all of your surroundings, the air had a smell and a taste. It was all real, as real as reality. Cobb appeared by your side and explained the finer details of what he needed you to do to your boss. “I work for a powerful man,” Cobb said. “He needs Fischer to break up the company, and we’re going to implant that thought into his dream. Me and my team will be on his flight from Sydney to Los Angeles,” Cobb told you. “We’ll sedate him— you too, to ensure you don’t wake up during it— and you’ll jump into his dream. He’ll trust anything you tell him; even in his sleep, he trusts you more than he’ll ever trust someone that he thinks is just a figment of his imagination. Once you plant the thought in his head— split up the company, do what he wants instead of what his father wants— you'll both receive a kick to wake you up.”

“And this is safe?” you asked.

“Yes,” Cobb told you. “We’re safe now, aren’t we? But you have to remember; although it seems like reality, ultimately, Fischer will have full control over what happens. It’s his dream. Go with the flow of what happens.Oh! And you can’t let him know it’s a dream. He has to think it’s reality. You understand?”

You didn’t know your boss all that well, to be honest, and you certainly didn’t believe that he trusted you as much as Cobb thought he did. Robert Fischer was a sort-of cold man, definitely cut off from the majority of people and seemingly pleased with that life, the heir to a massive fortune and company that, all in all, stood to make the young Fischer very important and rich. You knew that his father Maurice was everything that Robert was ten-fold and, although you had never met the man, every time Robert returned to his office following a meeting with his terminally-ill, bedridden father, you cursed Maurice. Robert never let it show, but you knew that whatever Maurice said definitely cut him to his core. You never dared to ask what was said, though; you were just Robert’s personal assistant. You got his coffee and picked up his dry-cleaning, you were by no means that close. Which made Cobb’s declaration of Robert’s trust in you all that more dubious.

The cabin on the plane was cold and dry, just as it always was in first class, and Robert was quick to pull off his stuffy jacket and roll up his sleeves. You sat down easily, acting like nothing was any different than any other ten hour flight from Sydney to Los Angeles that you had grown accustomed to, but you did everything you could to avoid eyes. Cobb nor Arthur even dared to look in your direction, and you distantly heard Cobb speaking to Robert. You acted like you didn’t really care, especially after Cobb said how much he ‘admired’ Robert’s work. The entire exchange culminated in Cobb lacing Robert’s drink with the sedative, and your stomach seized uncomfortably when you watched Robert unknowingly ingest the drug. You knew that it was all the plan, but it still was uncomfortable to watch.

Finally, just a few minutes after Robert took his drink, he was out cold. Not even Cobb dropping his bag in his lap woke him up, and you knew how light of a sleeper Robert was. Arthur quickly moved out of his chair and began to set up the machine to send you into Robert’s dream, and Cobb leaned over to you. “Remember,” he began. “Whatever happens, happens. But put the thought in his head, that’s all we need.”

“How do I say that?” you realized. “I can’t just come right out with it.”

“No, you can’t,” Cobb said. “He has to think it’s like any other dream. So act natural, do whatever he seems to expect of you. Just find a way to tell him that. Even if he subconsciously understands, it’ll translate into the real world; if, in his dream, someone he trusts gives him advice, he’s likely to take it. He might not even realize that it was you who told him. The mind is a powerful place.”

Sunlight blinded you, and you pried your sticky eyes open. It took a moment for your fuzzy eyesight to right itself, but you saw the stark whiteness of a hotel room around you. The curtains on the window were open, the doors to the balcony wide to allow a warm breeze to drift inside. The place smelled like cigar smoke and suntan lotion and an odder, more human scent that you couldn’t make out, and you shifted to feel the warm caress of the bedsheets against your legs. You were alone in the bed, although it was obvious that someone else had previously been there, based on the slight divot next to you. An expensive hotel in a tropical location. What the hell sort of dream was this?

Your confusion disoriented you, and you nearly missed the shadow that loomed at the open doorway to the balcony. Once you finally saw him, though, your mouth went dry. Robert stood there, his head tilted slightly as he watched you sleep. His hooded, blue eyes were dreary with sleep and his wispy black hair all ruffled up, but he had a smile on his face nonetheless. He was only half-dressed, his bare chest on display in the golden morning sun with grey sweatpants that had obviously seen Robert through his university days. He looked good; more than good, actually. He was handsome. “Finally decided to wake up, hmm?” Robert chuckled, and he crossed back to the bed and sat down next to you, obviously where he had been sleeping. He tilted his head as he looked at you, and he reached out and gently pushed a lock of hair out of your face. “My silly girl… I was starting to wonder if you’d ever wake up.”

You remembered Cobb’s warning, to go with the flow, and, when you reached out for Robert and saw a glittering diamond ring and band on your finger, it didn’t take long to realize what Robert’s dream was. You were married and on some sort of vacation. Maybe a honeymoon? “Only to see you, Rob,” you replied, taking his hand in yours. You played with his matching wedding band for a moment, trying to gauge the amount of aging it had, and it looked brand new. Honeymoon, definitely. “It looks good on you.”

“It’s just a ring,” Robert chuckled, and you couldn’t help but smile at the blush that came over his sculpted cheeks.

“Aw, but it’s our ring,” you whispered.

Robert took your hand tightly in his, and he leaned down to meet you. Before you were really sure of what he was doing, he had pressed his lips to yours and his hand to your cheek. Your heart pounded in your chest at the sudden realization that your boss was certainly having some sort of wet dream about you, but you didn’t entirely hate the idea of it. Sure, Robert was a more than eligible bachelor and you had had the lone thought every now and then, but you never thought you’d get to experience it. Why would you? More than anything, he was your boss. It shouldn’t have been allowed. Hence, why Robert had created the scenario. You hated to wonder if Cobb and everyone could see what was going on.

You broke the kiss and smoothed your hands up Robert’s soft, built arms. “Mmm, Rob, you feel tense,” you told him, pouting at him. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“It’s just work,” Robert replied, chasing you back with a kiss. You giggled against his lips, and his arms went around your shoulders as he kissed you again. “You know how I get.”

“I know, I know,” you said. “I just worry about you, my handsome Mr. Fischer. Anyway, it’s our honeymoon, why’re you letting work get to you?”

“I worry about it when I’m not there,” Robert mumbled. “I know that being away for a week won’t make or break the company but I just…” he paused, and he shook his head. “I’m so used to worrying about it, I don’t know how not to.”

When you moved, it didn’t feel like you were in control of yourself. You knew that you had to be, though; Robert couldn’t control you. It was like Cobb had told you, everything you did was of your own accord. You pulled Robert back into a deep kiss, taking fistfuls of his hair to urge him closer. He took no time to do so, slotting himself easily between your thighs as he gently bit your bottom lip. It weirdly felt good to kiss Robert— his mouth was soft and warm, the small bit of mustache growing on his lip rubbing your face but you didn’t hate it. He tasted like cigars, and you broke the kiss. “Did you just smoke?” you asked, and Robert shrugged.

“I’m celebrating, my love,” he told you. His hand fell from your face to play with the edge of the bedsheet, still tugged up around your body, and you bit your lip as you batted his hand away. “You’re finally mine. Can’t a man smoke a cigar?”

“You can,” you said. “It makes you taste good, Robby.” Robert smiled. You liked that. He looked so youthful, his eyes crinkling at the corners and his high cheekbones dusting with pink.

“You haven’t called me Robby in ages,” he told you, cocking his head with a small laugh. “Not since that first time.”

“What was the first time?” you asked, and Robert laughed a little again. His hands smoothed down your covered legs, then back up, and he finally pulled the soft sheet away to slot himself easily between your thighs. It felt like he belonged there, the jut of his hips fitting into yours perfectly. It was almost as if you were made for each other.

“Well, it was around the time we started dating,” Robert said. “First time we fucked, actually. I had my head between your pretty thighs… Fuck, you were crying, if I remember right. You grabbed my hair and called me that and told me you were coming…” He paused to bite his bottom lip, and he shook his head, like he still couldn’t believe his luck. “God damn it, I fell in love with you at that exact moment.”

“The first time you made me cum?” you chuckled, and Robert rolled his eyes.

“No, silly,” he said. “Well, yes, but… You just looked so beautiful. Eyes squeezed shut, face all warm, hair everywhere. The way you said my name drove me crazy. It felt like nobody had ever called me that before. It-It really felt like an angel was saying my name. I felt it so deep in my chest, there’s no other way to explain it. You said my name, and I fell hard for you.”

Before you could really stop yourself, you said, “You should tell me how you feel.”

Robert sat up a bit, furrowing his eyebrows, and he said, “What do you mean? I am.”

You shook your head and pursed your lips as you tried to think of what exactly to say to explain yourself. “I mean… Rob, I really like you. I shouldn’t, but I do. And you obviously do too, if this is what you think about. Tell me about this.”

“I seriously don’t get what you’re saying,” Robert told you, his beautiful face still etched with confusion. His forehead was wrinkled up, his eyes narrowed, and he pursed his beautiful pink lips together.

“Act like it’s the first time,” you told him. “First time asking me out, first time telling me you like me. Do this for me, Robert. Please?”

Even though he still seemed confused, he did as you told him. “Well, umm,” he began. Both of his hands went to your thighs, and he tugged them around his waist as he pressed his dull fingernails into your skin. “I like when you bring me coffee, how you write my name on the side of it. I like how, when you pick up my dry cleaning, it sorta smells like your perfume. I like how I pretend that I don’t see you smoking on your lunch break, and how you pretend that you don’t see me doing the same… Some days, I wish I could join you and light your cigarette for you. I really like the way you come into my office to ask me something, how you lean against the doorway and cross your arms and press your head to the door. It’s really cute. And you’re so gorgeous. I’ve dreamt about you since the first day you walked into Fischer Morrow. I-I’m… Baby, I’ve already told you all of this.”

“Robby,” you pleaded, grabbing at his shoulders. “Just tell me again. Tell me now, and tell me later. Just tell me. A-And you shouldn’t worry about work. It’s a fucking stupid thing to worry about, especially when you know that the solution is right in front of you.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Robert asked. His face was scrunched as he examined you, and he cupped your cheek with his hand. “Is something wrong?”

You felt a hard thumping in your chest, like your heart was trying to burst out of your chest, and you tugged him down to kiss him again. You could recognize the solid thumping from the last time you felt it; you were waking up from the dream. You didn’t want to. You wanted to stay in it forever, if it meant you could finally have Robert the way that you wanted. You weren’t afraid to admit it anymore; you loved Robert. “Stay here with me,” you said, your mouth pressed against his. He kissed you back hungrily, his worries from before seemingly forgotten, and your hands fell from his face down to the waistband of his sweatpants. He was quick to help you shuck them off, and he moved his kisses to your neck as his fingers swiped at your cunt. “Fuck me, Robby. I need you.”

“Couldn’t stop me if you tried,” Robert said with a smile, and he took a moment to sit up. He cast his glance off to the side, to the side table next to the bed, and you put your hand on his cheek and pulled his focus back to you.

“No,” you said. “No condom. I need to feel you.”

“Are you sure?” Robert asked, and your thumping chest warmed at his reassurance. “What if—”

“I get pregnant?” you asked. “Would that be so bad?” The idea hit you like a lightning bolt, nearly knocking the breath from your throat. That was it. That was the avenue you had to take. It was right in front of you, it always had been. Guilt him. Use your newfound role as his wife to guilt him into splitting the company. “Having a little you running around? I know… I know you’re scared about it, ‘cause of your father, but you… Robert, my love, you’d be the best father, I’ll tell you that much. I know it. Y-Your father ruined you with the way he treated you; I know that you wouldn’t do that to your own son. I trust that you wouldn’t do that.”

“Fucking hell, woman,” Robert chuckled. “You know it’s so hard for me to say no to you…” He paused to pull your hips closer to his, and he pressed the burning head of his hard cock to your pussy. You didn’t look down at him; you would let that be a surprise for when you woke up. “But, God, baby. I work so much, I’d never be around for him.”

“So, don’t work as much,” you told him. You panted, making sure your tits heaved with each breath, and Robert’s blown-out eyes flicked to your tits and watched. “You hate that fucking company anyway. You should sell it or something. If it’s not yours, it’s not your problem.”

“I can’t just sell the company,” Robert whispered. “That’s— That would get me killed.”

“Split it,” you said quickly. “Only sell part of it. Sell the part that makes you wanna tear your hair out, and keep the part you’re proud of.”

“You’re the only part of Fischer Morrow I’m proud of,” Robert said, and he carefully pushed his cock into your waiting cunt. He gave a tight hiss through his teeth as his cock sank deep into you, and you grabbed his hair as you squeezed your eyes shut. The stretch of him inside you was almost excruciating, but the pain was exquisite.

“Then, just keep me,” you told him breathlessly. “Get rid of everything else. You can be there for your son, you’ll have me, you’ll be rid of that damn company… It doesn’t seem like— Fuck!” You gasped as the head of his cock nestled right into that soft nerve inside you, and he smiled like a devil. “Oh my fucking God, Robert!”

“God, you know just what to say,” your ‘husband’ told you. “I’ll talk to Uncle Peter. I’ll sell that damn company. I’ll have you, and I’ll have our son; that’s all I need. Now, be a good girl and let me fuck you to sleep.”

When you woke up, you could still taste Robert in your mouth, the cigar and faint smell of suntan lotion. You sniffled a bit and pushed your hair back, and you groggily tried to take stock of your surroundings as you sat up. You were back on the plane, Cobb and Arthur sitting around you, with Robert across the aisle from you. You felt exhausted, as if you hadn’t just been asleep for nearly ten hours, and you rubbed at your eyes with your fingers. Robert also seemed a little off, blinking slowly and playing with his suspenders. You chanced a look at Cobb, and he only raised his eyebrows as a question. You swallowed and nodded, indicating to him that you had done your job, and you tightened your jaw as you hoped and prayed that nobody else knew what you had just done. While you weren’t ashamed of it, it would certainly be a bit embarrassing if they knew.

Robert didn’t even look your way until you were on the tarmac, outside the plane. It almost seemed like he was purposefully avoiding you. You understood his predicament, though; as far as he thought, you had appeared in his dream and pleaded with him to sell the company as he fucked you. If you were in his position, you too would be trying your best to avoid him. He only spoke once you were in the back of the chauffeured car, and the door was securely closed. “Can I tell you something?” he asked, and you looked up from your planner. With a swift pen stroke, you crossed out Meeting With D. Cobb, and you capped your pen.

You wrinkled your eyebrows, and you smiled. “Confiding in me, now, are you, Mr. Fischer?” you asked, and Robert did that half-smile that he had during the dream. He licked his lips and rolled his eyes, but suddenly that cockiness disappeared. He fiddled with his cufflinks and loosened his tie and smoothed his hair back as he obviously seemed to be gathering his words, and you softly added, "Are you okay, Robert?"

“I like the way you say my name,” he told you. He lifted those damn ice-blue eyes to meet yours, and you took a deep breath. He was taking your advice. But how much would he take? “I like how you write my name on the side of my coffee cup, and how you’ll write a little smile if you’re in a good mood. I… I like whatever perfume you wear, I like smelling it on my dry cleaning when you give it to me. I like how you smoke Camels and you can never light it on the first try; whenever I see you cursing at your lighter, it makes me wish I could just light your damn cigarette for you myself. And I like how you sorta turn your head a bit when you need to ask me something, like a little puppy, almost…”

“Robert,” you said carefully. “What are you doing?”

“I…” he started, and shook his head. “It sounds stupid, but… On the plane, when I was asleep, I had this dream… You were there, a-and you told me that I should just fucking tell you how I feel about you. So I am. I really like you, a lot, a-and I was wondering if you wanted to maybe get dinner or something?”

Your lips turned up into a smile, and you pressed your hand to his knee. “I’d love to get dinner with you, Robby.”

[themology]

drunken nights | quinn hughes

summary: in which quinn hughes receives an almost unreadable message from his girlfriend y/n while she's out celebrating one of her close friends, gemma's, recent engagement. offering to pick her up, quinn has an interesting car ride home and rest of the night.

pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader

note: hello! i'm sorry this took a little longer than expected, i kept redoing specific parts because i was really struggling and wasn't 100% happy with it! nevertheless, i'm quite pleased with how this has eventually turned out! i really hope you enjoy! ❤️

----------------

saying you were slightly intoxicated would be a drastic understatement. it was the night of your best friend’s bachelorette party, and although it was more on the low-key side, simply a few close friends gathering in celebration, you had somehow managed to consume more alcohol than you would regularly consume in a month. you weren’t big on drinking, and that made your tolerance for it incredibly low. 

the soft sound of quinn’s phone vibrating against the marbled counter disrupts the canucks game highlights which had been displayed across the tv screen. it was nearing 1am, and despite needing to be up that same morning at 7am for morning skate, quinn had promised to be awake, offering to pick you up. despite your best efforts in convincing quinn that you would be fine to uber home yourself and that you didn't want to be a burden to him, he wasn't as sold on the idea. quinn knew he would be restless until he heard you come home, he would stay up all night if it meant knowing you were home safe.

you simply couldn't say no to quinn's persuasive nature, he was stubborn, and you knew quinn wasn't going to take no for an answer, eventually settling on the idea of him picking you up. reaching into his pocket, he pulls his phone out. your contact name was boldly displayed across his screen, a chuckle escapes his lips as he reads the message you had just sent him. 

my love <3

het quinny 

he had absolutely no idea what you were trying to say, but he could assume that you had a little too much to drink over at gemma’s.

quinn 

what’s up baby? 

my love <3

i mis you

quinn 

i miss you too

quinn 

want me to come pick you up? 

my love  <3

ni i’m fun 

my love <3

fin 

my love <3

fine 

quinn 

i think i should come pick you up sweetheart

quinn 

are you still at gemma’s?

my love <3

yes

quinn 

okay love, i’ll be there soon

my love <3

ok I lobe you 

quinn

love you more 

he shakes his head knowingly at your clear intoxicated state, a slight chuckle escaping his lips he stands up from his original position on the couch, grabbing his keys off the kitchen counter, making his way out the front door. 

after a short ten minute drive, quinn finds himself pulling into the driveway of gemma's house. the only other car parked in the driveway was her’s, signalling that everyone else had left. quinn makes his way over towards the front door, his hands automatically shifting into his pockets, an attempt at shielding them from the piercing winter breeze, it certainly was fresh out. reaching the front door quinn lightly knocks. he only has to wait a few seconds before gemma opens up the front door, smiling at quinn sheepishly before opening the door wider, signalling for him to follow her inside. “she’s in the living room”, gemma states, a hint of humour evidently laced in her voice. 

quinn nods his head in response, a small grin tugs at the corner of his lips as he thinks back to the messages he had received from you a few minutes prior to arriving. he follows closely behind her as she leads him through the entryway into the living room. his eyes land on you asleep on the couch. quinn admires your peaceful state before his gaze swiftly shifts from you, continuing to scan the rest of the surroundings within the room.

it was the scene of a typical engagement party. blown up balloons which read 'congratulations' covered the entirety of the living room space, confetti was sprinkled across the dining room table while empty glass wear littered the kitchen counter. his gaze then landed on the reason behind your drunken messages, an endless supply of half empty liquor sat on the bench. his gaze continued to search the room, landing on a large cardboard cut out of sean with very obvious photoshopped abs and muscles, causing quinn to stifle a laugh. it was a humorous scene, if only sean could see this, he thought to himself. heading in the direction of the kitchen quinn notices the remnants of a cheeseboard sat by the sink, at least you had eaten. 

he moves towards the various bottles of liquor splayed out on the counter - vodka, rum, whiskey, gin, tequila

the memory alone of quinn sinking back glasses of alcohol a few weeks back with elias on a night out in the city is enough to make his stomach churn. 

noticing quinn’s burning gaze on the alcohol gemma speaks up, abruptly breaking him from his trance, “im sorry it’s such a mess, i was going to clean this up once the girls left and before you came but y/n has been keeping me pretty busy” she chuckles. quinn offers a small smile in response, “nah honestly don’t stress, this is the cleanest state you will ever see our house in, let me help you load these into the dishwasher”. quinn was always offering a helping hand, his caring nature being one of the first things you admired about him. he begins to pick up the empty glasses, loading them into the dishwasher while gemma places the bottles of liquor back into the cabinet.

once finished he turns his focus back on to you, noticing you sprawled across the couch, somehow tangled up in your own dress.

he can’t help but laugh at the sight of you, that is until he notices you stir, clearly awake from your previous slumber. a look of confusion overwhelms you as tears threaten to spill from your eyes, quinn taking it as his cue to head over to you.

“come here baby, let me help you”, he crouches down in front of where you lay, reaching his hands out to fix your dress, “how’d this happen silly?” he questions, amusement laced clearly in the tone of his voice. in an attempt to untangle your dress, he lifts the top half up slightly, revealing the black lace bralette that you had been sporting, he chooses not to follow your skin any further down. 

you stare at him intently, watching him carefully reposition your dress. “you’re really hot”, you mumble softly, barely audible so that the comment could only be heard by the two of you. he smiles in response, stifling back a laugh, “thank you love, you’re even hotter” 

“n-no, i said you were hot, the hottest”, you argue, furrowing your eyebrows at him. he grabs each side of your face and places a kiss on your forehead, “okay y/n, whatever you say”. his voice is soft and gentle, scared that if he raises it in the slightest you will break down,  “let’s get you home and in to bed hey”

you slowly nod, wanting nothing more than to be in the own comfort of your home and falling asleep in the arms of your boyfriend. you allow him to carefully pick you up bridal style. quinn says a quick goodbye, congratulations, and thank you to gemma before making his way out to the car, setting you down in to the passenger seat. once he checks that you’re safely in, with your seatbelt resting across your body, he pulls out of the driveway. 

the two minutes of silence that had consumed the both of you is quickly disrupted by your question, “are you real?”. you tilt your head to get a better look at him, admiring his side profile and the silhouette that had been created from the glistening moonlight and night time darkness. quinn hums in response, placing a hand on your thigh, rubbing it softly in a soothing motion, “yes im real sweetheart” 

“kiss” you question randomly, puckering your lips to allow quinn easy access. he glances at you, “im driving right now baby, too dangerous” 

your heart sinks, “but you said that you loved me”, you cross your arms over your chest and turn away, before muttering a quick “liar” under your breath. you didn't intend for quinn to hear you, however unfortunately for you, he had. 

quinn sighs, “y/n you know i love you”. however his admittance is met with silence on your end, and when you continue to not respond, he grumbles under his breath to himself and safely pulls off to the side of the road. luckily it was now 1am and there were barely any cars on the road. 

“look at me”, quinn says 

you shake your head, you weren't going to give in so easily 

“i pulled over just to give you a kiss and now you don’t want one”, he states, pretending to sound hurt by your previous dismissal

luckily for quinn it seemed to work because as soon as you notice the sadness in his voice you turn to face him with a frown, “s-sorry” you say softly, leaning forward to close the gap between the two of you. his fingers find their familiar spot, tangling into your hair while your hands rest on his chest, you pull away after a few seconds for air. 

quinn doesn’t stop there though, peppering kisses all over your face, mumbling sweet “i love you's” in between each one. you giggle in response and lightly push at his chest, “i-i get it, i love you too huggy, more than you know.”

the two of you finally arrive home, and quinn quickly excuses himself, making his way towards the bathroom.

you find yourself walking towards the kitchen cabinet, your gaze landing on the half empty bottle of vodka which quinn had bought for when elias came over to visit. 

surely he wouldn't notice if you just took one sip, you thought to yourself, not wanting the dazed feeling to end.

opening the cabinet door you retrieve the bottle of clear liquid, beginning to lift it up towards your mouth to take a swig of it before you hear quinn. 

“woah woah baby, i think you’ve had enough of that tonight”, you hear from behind you. quinn's quick to walk over to you from the bathroom, gently grabbing the glass bottle from your hands and placing it back into the kitchen cabinet 

you send him a small pout in response, “you’ll thank me tomorrow morning y/n”

before you can throw off your centre of gravity, quinn directs you towards your bedroom, his arm wrapped around your waist. the two of you make it into your bedroom before quinn speaks up once more. 

"go sit on the bed baby” 

heat rushes across your face at quinn's advancements, he usually wasn't this forward with you, but you liked it. you glance back over your shoulder, your face only lit by the light from the lamp in the corner of the room, however quinn is able to spot the smug smirk that has covered your face.

“that’s a little forward, don’t you think, q?”

he takes off his own shoes, shaking his head immediately at your drunken misconception of what he asked.

“so i can take your heels off” he states simply

you make the few steps left to the bed safely, and sit at the edge of it, still giggling as you say, “just my shoes, huh?” 

you continued to flirt, the consumption of alcohol clearly giving you a surge of newfound confidence

“yes y/n.” he walks over, kneeling down on one knee, pulling your heeled foot up onto the strength of his thigh

he begins to fiddle momentarily with the laced up string, warm hands splayed on your calf. he chooses to ignore the way that your dress has slightly ridden up your thighs.

jesus. this was harder than he thought. 

he continues to fiddle with the strap of your heel before the sound of your voice breaks him from his concentration, "i still can't believe she knew we would be together before us", you say softly

quinn's eyebrows furrow in confusion, the sudden change in conversation had him lost.

"what do you mean baby, who?"

"ellen, she always used to speak about us two, saying that we were meant to be, i thought you were cute q, you were just very shy so i took it as you being disinterested"

he smiles at the memory of the way you two used to act around one another before dating, it was pure, innocent

"mother's intuition i guess, she has a weird way with those sorts of things. don't put the blame on me y/n, you always used to go on about riley in your economics class"

you stifle a laugh, "riley was purely fictional, jack told me to make someone up, i was trying to get a reaction out of you to see if you would be jealous!"

a wave of realisation overwhelms quinn's features.

"please tell me why you thought taking dating advice from my younger brother was ever a good idea y/n?"

the two of you begin to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation, if only the two of you had been honest from the beginning, you may have been dating for an extra six months or so.

he holds eye contact with you as he slips off both of your heels, placing them neatly next to each other by the end of the bed.

the simplicity of the small gesture has your heart bursting and before you can stop yourself you mutter a loud, “i love you”. you watch a smile spread across quinn's features, standing up while you follow. you place your arms around quinn’s neck while his hands automatically rest on either sides of your waist, pulling you closer. "i love you too y/n" he speaks softly. the both of you momentarily bask in the presence of one another, before you lean in to close the gap between the both of you, pressing your lips to his. 

quinn’s lips were warm and soft, a sense of familiarity and warmth overtaking your previous dazed state. your lips parted slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside. quinn moves the both of you forward slightly, so that your back was pressed up against the bedroom wall, a small moan escapes your lips in pleasure. your bodies were now pressed together heatedly, the two of you breathing heavily

you pull back slightly, attempting to lift your dress over your head, but quinn stops you, reaching for your hands, “baby we can’t”. “why not”, you question, your hands finding a place on quinn’s chest, “because you’re drunk y/n”, he replies softly. you huff in response, slightly frustrated by your boyfriend's dismissal, "i know that we're about to have sex quinn", he sighs before responding, "that's not the point y/n"

he plants a kiss on a section of exposed skin on your neck, “i love you and that’s why i would rather do this when you will actually remember”. a smirk plays across your lips, “i’ll always remember quinn, you make it pretty hard to forget”, you tease, an attempt to seduce him, which unfortunately is short lived.

a slight chuckle leaves his mouth at the implication of his experience in bed. "another time baby, maybe even tomorrow morning?", he questions, his eyebrows raising expectantly. you nod in response, you didn't care when, you just wanted him.

a half hour passes and you find yourself walking into your bedroom after showering, you felt refreshed, and certainly more sober.

quinn's sat in bed, responding to messages from jack about the upcoming game, however as soon as his gaze lands on you he's quick to place his phone down.

“there’s some water and painkillers on your bedside table.. you know for the hangover”, he states as you crawl into bed next to him. he places a soft kiss to your forehead, before he wraps his arms around you in a warm embrace.

“don’t remind me" you mumble softly, sleep quickly taking over.

you loved the fact that no matter where the night would take you, you would always come back home, falling asleep in the oldest hughes' arms.

#quinn hughes has my heart

[themology]

This Is Our Place, We Make The Call

Quinn Hughes x reader

Summary: After being together for a while you and Quinn finally move in together

y/nusername

Liked by elblue6, _quinnhughes, bradytkachuk, jackhughes, and more

y/nusername: Alexa play Home by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros 🎶

tagged: _quinnhughes

_quinnhughes: Home is whenever I’m with you 💙

y/nusername: 🥰 Home is when I’m alone with you

jackhughes: this makes me wanna throw up

y/nusername: Not our fault you’re lonely

jackhughes: I’d throw hands if you weren’t in a different country

y/nusername: as if you could take me in a fight Jacky boy 😙

trevorzegras: so does this mean I no longer have a chance with you

_quinnhughes: y/n and I have been dating for 3 years you never had a chance

trevorzegras: says you. I never saw I ring on her finger.

_quinnhughes: I’m gonna kill you.

y/nusername: a duel to the death over me I’m flattered.

y/nusername: that being said. You touch my boyfriend Trevor and I’ll kill you myself.

trevorzegras; my time is coming and one day you’ll realize you’re in love with me.

jackhughes: my moneys on Quinn. That man is unhinged.

Liked by _quinnhughes

bbboeser: it’s nice to have you in Vancouver with us

lhughes_06: at least I won’t accidentally walk in on you two anymore

y/nusername: there’s still summer baby boy

lhughes_06: you guys are trying to traumatize me

_quinnhughes

Liked by y/nusername, elbue6, _ eliaspettersson, and more

_quinnhughes: 📦 🛻 🏡

tagged: y/nusername

y/nusername: my lover: a man of few words.

bradytkachuk: you know what the next step is right?

_quinnhughes: what?

bradytkachuk: 💍

Liked by y/nusername and elblue6

_quinnhughes: don’t give her any ideas. I’m already seeing magazines for weddings and rings.

y/nusername: you noticed!!

elblue6: I’m so happy for you guys ❤️

y/nusername: Thanks mama El

_eliaspettersson: no photo cred for that second pic?

y/nusername: thank you petey 💙

Fan01: you guys are noticing that she’s using a blue heart emoji right??

Fan02: maybe another announcement is coming soon?

jackhughes: okay maybe you two are kinda cute.

lhughes_06: blink twice if y/n is holding you hostage.

trevorzegras: stealing my cougar 😒

y/nusername: was never gonna happen

[themology]

miguel is (was) a father which means i am legally obliged to fantasize abt being his babysitter ! fem!reader

just being a college student, young, ambitious, trying to get by in the final stretch and needing just a little money from the outside to support you in the present, and future endeavors. it takes loads of searching around, and the job comes from a friend in the end. your friends mom to be exact, who swears that miguel o'hara is a nice man who looks stretched a little thin and the daycare that he frequents isn't what he needs.

you don't understand how a college student with minimal experience is any better, but he's interviewing you, asking you questions you barely stumble over, and suddenly you're the babysitter of maya o'hara, a sweet seven year old who just happens to have a smoking hot dad.

you try to keep things professional, and you succeed ... mostly. nothing but a few lingering glances and picking your best clothes and wearing enough makeup to look presentable. but in the end, it's him who crosses the thinly drawn line.

a night where he comes home from work earlier than expected, but he invites you to stay for dinner instead of going back to your place. your roommates are all out partying, and you aren't in the mood to be alone, so you're suddenly entertaining maya and helping her shower, then joining the small family at the table, trying to politely devour an amazing home cooked meal.

the night draws to a close, maya's tucked into bed, first by yourself then by miguel, and you're standing at the top of the staircase, shoes in hand, purse in the other, a small smile on your lips.

"goodnight, mr. o'hara," you tell him, lifting a finger to wave best as you can as your sock-clad foot reaches out to find the first stair on the way down. but the floor creaks and you look up to see miguel approaching you until he's a half step away.

his large palms lift, they cup your cheeks, and his pink lips part as he speaks. "why don't you stay for a while longer?"

and the implications are there. they're practically written out for you. the breath is knocked from you, you take a large inhale through your nose to try and overcompensate, and just as you nod, miguel's lips are on yours. your sneakers and purse thud against the hardwood as you drop them in favor of holding onto miguel's waist, and you're incredibly thankful that maya is a heavy sleeper.

that night, miguel takes you into his room, the door closed and locked for the first time in a while, and you lay back on his bed, taking in the bedroom as best as you can with his head between your legs and quiet moans of his name slipping past your lips. in this most intimate moment, he treats you with the same respect that he has throughout your entire time working for him, just with an added bonus.

he stills asks you if you're okay, but his praises have gone from telling you you're a great babysitter, to calling you a good girl, telling you that you're good for him. his polite touches on your shoulders in passing have turned to caressing your inner and outer thighs, or sliding up your stomach to cup your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers.

it's something you've dreamt of, and never anticipated to become true, but you're extremely thankful that it did, and as you come on his tongue, you hope that it doesn't end here, even if the fair is messy and a little wrong.

[themology]

MIDNIGHT RAIN — QUINN HUGHES

quinn hughes x fem!reader

part of the Midnights Fic List

summary: in which Quinn asked y/n to marry him when they graduated high school but she breaks the news that she got signed to a record label and is moving to California. 5 years later, they meet again and rekindle their romance.

notes: taylor swift does not exist in this universe… you’ll understand why. also, i think i genuinely very much dislike this one, but that may also just be me being hypercritical of my own writing. not proofread.

**PAST**

“congratulations graduating class of 2017. you did it!”

i grin, standing and joining the rest of my class and tossing my cap in the air. i’m finally free.

family and friends pile onto the football field that held our graduation and i scan the crowds of newly graduated students, looking for my boyfriend. i finally spot him over with his family, whispering with his brothers. i walk over with a wide smile on my face, and watch as his brother, Luke, nudges him, pointing my way. Quinn looks over and smiles back.

“we did it, Quinny!” i cheer when i arrive at his side. he pulls me in by the waist, dipping me into a kiss.

“we did it, pretty girl.” he whispers when we pull away.

“i have amazing news, bubs!” i can’t wait any longer, i’ve kept my secret for the past two months, not wanting to jinx it. but now that my contract is signed and i’m officially moving next month, it’s finally time that i can share the news; i signed a recording contract. Quinn has always been supportive of my dreams, and when i started posting my songs online, he was the one who predicted that i would get signed to a record label. so i know he’ll be excited when he finds out he was right.

“i can’t wait to hear it, babe. but, i have a question first.” Quinn looks towards his family. his brothers bounce on their feet and his parents are talking with mine, but both sets of parents have their eyes on us. when i see them go quiet and smile, my brows furrow in confusion and i tilt my head. but when i look back at Quinn, i understand why.

my boyfriend of three years, since the summer before sophomore year, is bent down on one knee. my eyes grow wide and i watch as he reaches into his pants pocket, pulling out a ring box.

“y/n, these last three years have been the best years of my life. you make me feel like the happiest man in the world when i’m with you.” i tear up. “you’ve been my biggest supporter since the day we met, and i’m so grateful that i get to call you mine. but now, i’d love it if i could call you my wife. will you marry me?”

tears roll down my cheeks and i’m at a loss for words. i can’t say yes. i want to say yes. i want to say yes, so badly. but i’m moving to California next month, and he’ll be staying in Michigan to go play hockey for University of Michigan.

“Quinn. i- i can’t.” his face drops and my heart feels like it’s been shattered into a million little pieces. “i got signed to a record label. i leave for L.A. next month.”

Quinn stands, nodding his head in embarrassment.

“yeah, no, yeah i probably should’ve let you tell me your news first.” he frowns.

“i’m so sorry, Quinny. i- i don’t know what to say. i would say yes, you know if the circumstances were different, i would say yes.” tears still blue my vision, but i can still see him nod.

“yeah, i know.”

**PRESENT**

Quinn and i tried to make it work after that, but our dynamic was off. and i know i bruised his ego a bit too hard for us to make it through. by the time i left for Los Angeles, we were broken up.

now it’s been five years since we broke up, and i still can’t help but think back on our relationship. sure, i’ve gone on dates and had one short-term boyfriend in the past few years, but no one has measured up to Quinn. he was my soulmate and the one who got away. lately, it seems like all i can do is write songs about him and our relationship, and my fans have definitely taken a notice. even now, i’m in my studio, recording a new song and it’s about him.

“he wanted it comfortable, i wanted that pain. he wanted a bride, i was making my own name. chasing that fame. he stayed the same. all of me changed like midnight.”

i finish off the intro and i can hear my producers voice through the speaker in the recording booth.

“that was great, y/n. i think that was the last take that we needed for that one. let’s move onto the first verse.” she says. i nod and hear the beat pick up again.

“my town was a wasteland. full of cages, full of fences. pageant queens and big pretenders. but for some, it was paradise. my boy was a montage. a slow-motion, love potion. jumping off things in the ocean. i broke his heart ‘cause he was nice. he was sunshine, i was midnight rain.”

tears gather in my eyes, pushing to fall, and i attempt to blink them away, but all the blinking does is make them spill over, rolling down my cheeks. the door to the recording booth opens and my producer, Ashley, steps through.

“hey, are you okay?” she asks sweetly, rubbing a hand on my back as i wipe away my tears.

“yeah, it’s just still really hard.” i let out a weak laugh at how pathetic i am. crying over a guy i dated five years ago. “god, i’m so stupid.”

“you’re not stupid, y/n. you made the decision that you thought was best for you at the time. looking back, would you have made the same decision?” in addition to being my producer, Ashley is also my best friend. we’ve actually been friends since eighth grade, and when she graduated college a year ago with her bachelor’s degree in music, i hired her.

“i- i don’t know. i mean, i love where i ended up, career wise. but i miss him so much, Ash.” i reply. my tears have started to ease, but now i’m stuffed up from crying and can’t record at the moment, so i hang up my headphones on the microphone.

“then, maybe you’re a little stupid.” she jokes. i shake my head, letting out another weak laugh.

“i know what will cheer you up.” she sing-songs. “i have tickets to the Ducks game tonight. let’s go cheer for some hot hockey guys. maybe we’ll even get to embarrass Trevor.”

i smile and nod in agreement. Trevor is another close friend of mine. he’s actually the best friend of Quinn’s brother, Jack. i never met him when he lived in Michigan for USNTDP, but the hockey world is small, so i was only a little surprised when i met him last year at an Anaheim Ducks event and found out he knew the Hughes family.

“okay. let’s go embarrass Trevor.” i tell Ashley. she cheers and we leave the studio, heading back to our apartment to get ready.

**

Ashley and i arrived to the Honda Center about fifteen minutes before warmups started, finding our glass seats and settling in. when the Ducks skate onto the ice and we see Trevor, we jump up and cheer.

“WOOO! GO TREVY!” i scream as he hits the puck in the net for a practice shot, catching his attention. he looks over and laughs, skating over to the glass and banging in front of my face. i laugh and joke- “fancy seeing you here!”

“you guys can try and embarrass me all you want. i’m a shameless man. i’m fueled on your shouts and cheers.” he says, a wide grin on his face.

“who you chirping at tonight?” i ask. Ashley never actually told me who they’re playing against. it’s at that moment that the opposing team skates onto the ice, and i’m frozen in place when i see the Canucks.

“your ex.” Trevor wags his eyebrows before skating off to finish his warmups.

“what the hell, Ashley?” i’m angry, you can tell as much by my voice, and i know she knows why.

“it’s just watching a game, y/n/n. you still love him, it’s not like you don’t watch his games on tv.” she replies, shrugging her shoulders.

“that’s different. he can’t tell i’m watching through the tv. what if he sees me?” i spot him on the ice, talking to one of his team members, and immediately turn to face Ashley, hoping he won’t recognize me. i don’t want him to think i’m pathetic and still in love with him. it’s the truth, but it’s embarrassing enough without him knowing. i’m sure he’s moved on by now.

i’m able to make it through warmups without him noticing me, but i’m not so lucky when the game actually starts. it’s only halfway through the first period when Quinn scores the first goal of the game, and before i can think twice, i’m up on my feet clapping and celebrating.

“WOOO!” i yell, and Ashley laughs at me, teasing me about how i’ll always be an internal WAG. but i let her comments roll of my back and continue to cheer, watching as he stops not far from the glass in front of us, getting hugged by his teammates. “GO QUINNY!”

it’s then that he turns, eyes wide, and i realize i’ve made a grave mistake. my voice plus the nickname has tipped him off. he spots me, and i freeze, my hands mid-clap. i let my hands fall to my sides, and Ashley pulls me back down to my seat by the back of my jacket. Quinn’s gaze stays focused on me, and i give a small wave in return. he raises his hand back at me, and i can tell he’s still shocked to see me but one of this teammates pulls his attention back to the game.

throughout the rest of the game, Quinn continues to glance over towards me, and i regret letting Ash rope me into attending this game. it ends with 4-2, Canucks winning, and i feel bad for Trevor, but i can’t help feeling proud of Quinn. Ashley and i stay in our seats, talking after the teams leave the ice, and i get a text from a number i never thought i would hear from again.

—

From: Huggy Bear 🧸🤍

meet me outside the visitors dressing room please. i think we should talk.

—

the text makes me nervous. is he mad that i was here? did i upset him by being here? by cheering for him? i show the text to Ash and she says she’ll grab an uber home so that she doesn’t impose on our conversation.

i find my way to the visitors dressing room, giving my name to the security to find that Quinn had already informed them i would be coming. i stand in the hallway waiting, looking over every time the dressing room door opens. i sign a few autographs and take some pictures with a few of the players for their girlfriends or sisters while i wait.

it feels like the entire team has left when Quinn finally comes out. i watch him as he steps out, dressed back in his arrival suit.

he looks so good, it’s unfair.

“hey.” he says, walking over to me. “you were at the game.”

“i was.” i tell him, my voice cracking with my emotion. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to upset you by coming. i didn’t even-”

“you didn’t upset me.” he cuts me off. i study his face, trying to gauge how he feels. i used to be able to read him easily, and it seems like that talent hasn’t left me. “i was surprised to see you. i’ve never seen you at any of my other games, i kinda just assumed you didn’t care now that we’re… not together.”

“i watch all your games, Quinny.” my voice is barely above a whisper. soft and anxiety ridden.

“you do?” he questions, his voice full of hope.

“yeah. well, every one i can. i’ve even missed events just to stay home and watch. i never stopped caring about you, Q. just because we aren’t together anymore, doesn’t mean i don’t think about you.” i tell him. “a lot.”

“you think about me a lot? you ever write a song about me then?” he teases, but now i’m wondering if he’s ever even listened to any of my songs.

“all of my songs are about you, Quinny.” i confess. “even my new ones.”

“you can’t- you can’t just say that, y/n. i’ll start thinking things that i know aren’t true.” he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair.

“like what?” i look at him with doe eyes, the exact ones i know he loved five years ago.

“like that i might still have a chance with you.” he says lowly. i might regret my next words, but i need to get them off my chest.

“can i confess something?” i ask.

“yeah, of course.” he replies

“if you asked me again, i would say yes.” i tell him. “if i could go back to that day, i would’ve said yes.”

Quinn’s response comes in the form of his lips against mine. his hands hold my face and i press my body closer to his. my reaction is immediate, my lips moving with his. the kiss is slow and sweet, a reconnection of two lovers. he sucks on my bottom lip before his tongue pushes past my lips, slipping against my own. i pull away before the kiss can get too heated.

“will you go to dinner with me?” he asks.

“i’d love to.”

**3 YEARS LATER**

“Q! your bridezilla wants you!”

“Jack Rowden Hughes, i am not a bridezilla!” i scold. the audacity that this boy holds. calling me a bridezilla on my wedding day.

“leave my wife alone, Jack.” Quinn sighs, walking over from across the reception hall.

“yeah. leave his wife alone, Jack.” i tease. sticking my tongue out at him over Quinn’s shoulder. Quinn looks over at me, catching me pulling my tongue back into my mouth.

“you’re such a child.” he sighs, shaking his head at me.

“what does that make you? you just married me.” i ask him.

“i’m not even gonna dignify that with a response.” he replies. i’m laughing when his mom comes over.

“is everything okay, honey? i heard you and Jack arguing.” she says.

“i think everyone in here heard them arguing.” Quinn sighs again.

“hey, at least you know she’s part of the family.” Ellen laughs.

“i’m fine, momma E. Jack was just being annoying. it’s his specialty.” i shrug. Ellen laughs, kissing my cheek before walking away. Quinn takes hold of my hand, pulling me back over to our table, taking a seat and pulling me into his lap.

“what did you want me for, pretty girl?” he asks, wrapping an arm around my waist to hold me steady.

“i just missed you.” i whisper, leaning my forehead against his. he chuckles.

“i was gone for five minutes.” he reminds me.

“i know. but you left me all alone with Jack.” i complain.

“well technically, i left you with Luke. but i feel like i should be apologizing for leaving you with either of them.”

“yes. you should.” i smile.

“how about i apologize to you later? when we get home. i can apologize to you several times.”

[themology]

MIDNIGHT RAIN — QUINN HUGHES

quinn hughes x fem!reader

part of the Midnights Fic List

summary: in which Quinn asked y/n to marry him when they graduated high school but she breaks the news that she got signed to a record label and is moving to California. 5 years later, they meet again and rekindle their romance.

notes: taylor swift does not exist in this universe… you’ll understand why. also, i think i genuinely very much dislike this one, but that may also just be me being hypercritical of my own writing. not proofread.

**PAST**

“congratulations graduating class of 2017. you did it!”

i grin, standing and joining the rest of my class and tossing my cap in the air. i’m finally free.

family and friends pile onto the football field that held our graduation and i scan the crowds of newly graduated students, looking for my boyfriend. i finally spot him over with his family, whispering with his brothers. i walk over with a wide smile on my face, and watch as his brother, Luke, nudges him, pointing my way. Quinn looks over and smiles back.

“we did it, Quinny!” i cheer when i arrive at his side. he pulls me in by the waist, dipping me into a kiss.

“we did it, pretty girl.” he whispers when we pull away.

“i have amazing news, bubs!” i can’t wait any longer, i’ve kept my secret for the past two months, not wanting to jinx it. but now that my contract is signed and i’m officially moving next month, it’s finally time that i can share the news; i signed a recording contract. Quinn has always been supportive of my dreams, and when i started posting my songs online, he was the one who predicted that i would get signed to a record label. so i know he’ll be excited when he finds out he was right.

“i can’t wait to hear it, babe. but, i have a question first.” Quinn looks towards his family. his brothers bounce on their feet and his parents are talking with mine, but both sets of parents have their eyes on us. when i see them go quiet and smile, my brows furrow in confusion and i tilt my head. but when i look back at Quinn, i understand why.

my boyfriend of three years, since the summer before sophomore year, is bent down on one knee. my eyes grow wide and i watch as he reaches into his pants pocket, pulling out a ring box.

“y/n, these last three years have been the best years of my life. you make me feel like the happiest man in the world when i’m with you.” i tear up. “you’ve been my biggest supporter since the day we met, and i’m so grateful that i get to call you mine. but now, i’d love it if i could call you my wife. will you marry me?”

tears roll down my cheeks and i’m at a loss for words. i can’t say yes. i want to say yes. i want to say yes, so badly. but i’m moving to California next month, and he’ll be staying in Michigan to go play hockey for University of Michigan.

“Quinn. i- i can’t.” his face drops and my heart feels like it’s been shattered into a million little pieces. “i got signed to a record label. i leave for L.A. next month.”

Quinn stands, nodding his head in embarrassment.

“yeah, no, yeah i probably should’ve let you tell me your news first.” he frowns.

“i’m so sorry, Quinny. i- i don’t know what to say. i would say yes, you know if the circumstances were different, i would say yes.” tears still blue my vision, but i can still see him nod.

“yeah, i know.”

**PRESENT**

Quinn and i tried to make it work after that, but our dynamic was off. and i know i bruised his ego a bit too hard for us to make it through. by the time i left for Los Angeles, we were broken up.

now it’s been five years since we broke up, and i still can’t help but think back on our relationship. sure, i’ve gone on dates and had one short-term boyfriend in the past few years, but no one has measured up to Quinn. he was my soulmate and the one who got away. lately, it seems like all i can do is write songs about him and our relationship, and my fans have definitely taken a notice. even now, i’m in my studio, recording a new song and it’s about him.

“he wanted it comfortable, i wanted that pain. he wanted a bride, i was making my own name. chasing that fame. he stayed the same. all of me changed like midnight.”

i finish off the intro and i can hear my producers voice through the speaker in the recording booth.

“that was great, y/n. i think that was the last take that we needed for that one. let’s move onto the first verse.” she says. i nod and hear the beat pick up again.

“my town was a wasteland. full of cages, full of fences. pageant queens and big pretenders. but for some, it was paradise. my boy was a montage. a slow-motion, love potion. jumping off things in the ocean. i broke his heart ‘cause he was nice. he was sunshine, i was midnight rain.”

tears gather in my eyes, pushing to fall, and i attempt to blink them away, but all the blinking does is make them spill over, rolling down my cheeks. the door to the recording booth opens and my producer, Ashley, steps through.

“hey, are you okay?” she asks sweetly, rubbing a hand on my back as i wipe away my tears.

“yeah, it’s just still really hard.” i let out a weak laugh at how pathetic i am. crying over a guy i dated five years ago. “god, i’m so stupid.”

“you’re not stupid, y/n. you made the decision that you thought was best for you at the time. looking back, would you have made the same decision?” in addition to being my producer, Ashley is also my best friend. we’ve actually been friends since eighth grade, and when she graduated college a year ago with her bachelor’s degree in music, i hired her.

“i- i don’t know. i mean, i love where i ended up, career wise. but i miss him so much, Ash.” i reply. my tears have started to ease, but now i’m stuffed up from crying and can’t record at the moment, so i hang up my headphones on the microphone.

“then, maybe you’re a little stupid.” she jokes. i shake my head, letting out another weak laugh.

“i know what will cheer you up.” she sing-songs. “i have tickets to the Ducks game tonight. let’s go cheer for some hot hockey guys. maybe we’ll even get to embarrass Trevor.”

i smile and nod in agreement. Trevor is another close friend of mine. he’s actually the best friend of Quinn’s brother, Jack. i never met him when he lived in Michigan for USNTDP, but the hockey world is small, so i was only a little surprised when i met him last year at an Anaheim Ducks event and found out he knew the Hughes family.

“okay. let’s go embarrass Trevor.” i tell Ashley. she cheers and we leave the studio, heading back to our apartment to get ready.

**

Ashley and i arrived to the Honda Center about fifteen minutes before warmups started, finding our glass seats and settling in. when the Ducks skate onto the ice and we see Trevor, we jump up and cheer.

“WOOO! GO TREVY!” i scream as he hits the puck in the net for a practice shot, catching his attention. he looks over and laughs, skating over to the glass and banging in front of my face. i laugh and joke- “fancy seeing you here!”

“you guys can try and embarrass me all you want. i’m a shameless man. i’m fueled on your shouts and cheers.” he says, a wide grin on his face.

“who you chirping at tonight?” i ask. Ashley never actually told me who they’re playing against. it’s at that moment that the opposing team skates onto the ice, and i’m frozen in place when i see the Canucks.

“your ex.” Trevor wags his eyebrows before skating off to finish his warmups.

“what the hell, Ashley?” i’m angry, you can tell as much by my voice, and i know she knows why.

“it’s just watching a game, y/n/n. you still love him, it’s not like you don’t watch his games on tv.” she replies, shrugging her shoulders.

“that’s different. he can’t tell i’m watching through the tv. what if he sees me?” i spot him on the ice, talking to one of his team members, and immediately turn to face Ashley, hoping he won’t recognize me. i don’t want him to think i’m pathetic and still in love with him. it’s the truth, but it’s embarrassing enough without him knowing. i’m sure he’s moved on by now.

i’m able to make it through warmups without him noticing me, but i’m not so lucky when the game actually starts. it’s only halfway through the first period when Quinn scores the first goal of the game, and before i can think twice, i’m up on my feet clapping and celebrating.

“WOOO!” i yell, and Ashley laughs at me, teasing me about how i’ll always be an internal WAG. but i let her comments roll of my back and continue to cheer, watching as he stops not far from the glass in front of us, getting hugged by his teammates. “GO QUINNY!”

it’s then that he turns, eyes wide, and i realize i’ve made a grave mistake. my voice plus the nickname has tipped him off. he spots me, and i freeze, my hands mid-clap. i let my hands fall to my sides, and Ashley pulls me back down to my seat by the back of my jacket. Quinn’s gaze stays focused on me, and i give a small wave in return. he raises his hand back at me, and i can tell he’s still shocked to see me but one of this teammates pulls his attention back to the game.

throughout the rest of the game, Quinn continues to glance over towards me, and i regret letting Ash rope me into attending this game. it ends with 4-2, Canucks winning, and i feel bad for Trevor, but i can’t help feeling proud of Quinn. Ashley and i stay in our seats, talking after the teams leave the ice, and i get a text from a number i never thought i would hear from again.

—

From: Huggy Bear 🧸🤍

meet me outside the visitors dressing room please. i think we should talk.

—

the text makes me nervous. is he mad that i was here? did i upset him by being here? by cheering for him? i show the text to Ash and she says she’ll grab an uber home so that she doesn’t impose on our conversation.

i find my way to the visitors dressing room, giving my name to the security to find that Quinn had already informed them i would be coming. i stand in the hallway waiting, looking over every time the dressing room door opens. i sign a few autographs and take some pictures with a few of the players for their girlfriends or sisters while i wait.

it feels like the entire team has left when Quinn finally comes out. i watch him as he steps out, dressed back in his arrival suit.

he looks so good, it’s unfair.

“hey.” he says, walking over to me. “you were at the game.”

“i was.” i tell him, my voice cracking with my emotion. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to upset you by coming. i didn’t even-”

“you didn’t upset me.” he cuts me off. i study his face, trying to gauge how he feels. i used to be able to read him easily, and it seems like that talent hasn’t left me. “i was surprised to see you. i’ve never seen you at any of my other games, i kinda just assumed you didn’t care now that we’re… not together.”

“i watch all your games, Quinny.” my voice is barely above a whisper. soft and anxiety ridden.

“you do?” he questions, his voice full of hope.

“yeah. well, every one i can. i’ve even missed events just to stay home and watch. i never stopped caring about you, Q. just because we aren’t together anymore, doesn’t mean i don’t think about you.” i tell him. “a lot.”

“you think about me a lot? you ever write a song about me then?” he teases, but now i’m wondering if he’s ever even listened to any of my songs.

“all of my songs are about you, Quinny.” i confess. “even my new ones.”

“you can’t- you can’t just say that, y/n. i’ll start thinking things that i know aren’t true.” he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair.

“like what?” i look at him with doe eyes, the exact ones i know he loved five years ago.

“like that i might still have a chance with you.” he says lowly. i might regret my next words, but i need to get them off my chest.

“can i confess something?” i ask.

“yeah, of course.” he replies

“if you asked me again, i would say yes.” i tell him. “if i could go back to that day, i would’ve said yes.”

Quinn’s response comes in the form of his lips against mine. his hands hold my face and i press my body closer to his. my reaction is immediate, my lips moving with his. the kiss is slow and sweet, a reconnection of two lovers. he sucks on my bottom lip before his tongue pushes past my lips, slipping against my own. i pull away before the kiss can get too heated.

“will you go to dinner with me?” he asks.

“i’d love to.”

**3 YEARS LATER**

“Q! your bridezilla wants you!”

“Jack Rowden Hughes, i am not a bridezilla!” i scold. the audacity that this boy holds. calling me a bridezilla on my wedding day.

“leave my wife alone, Jack.” Quinn sighs, walking over from across the reception hall.

“yeah. leave his wife alone, Jack.” i tease. sticking my tongue out at him over Quinn’s shoulder. Quinn looks over at me, catching me pulling my tongue back into my mouth.

“you’re such a child.” he sighs, shaking his head at me.

“what does that make you? you just married me.” i ask him.

“i’m not even gonna dignify that with a response.” he replies. i’m laughing when his mom comes over.

“is everything okay, honey? i heard you and Jack arguing.” she says.

“i think everyone in here heard them arguing.” Quinn sighs again.

“hey, at least you know she’s part of the family.” Ellen laughs.

“i’m fine, momma E. Jack was just being annoying. it’s his specialty.” i shrug. Ellen laughs, kissing my cheek before walking away. Quinn takes hold of my hand, pulling me back over to our table, taking a seat and pulling me into his lap.

“what did you want me for, pretty girl?” he asks, wrapping an arm around my waist to hold me steady.

“i just missed you.” i whisper, leaning my forehead against his. he chuckles.

“i was gone for five minutes.” he reminds me.

“i know. but you left me all alone with Jack.” i complain.

“well technically, i left you with Luke. but i feel like i should be apologizing for leaving you with either of them.”

“yes. you should.” i smile.

“how about i apologize to you later? when we get home. i can apologize to you several times.”

[themology]

MIDNIGHT RAIN — QUINN HUGHES

quinn hughes x fem!reader

part of the Midnights Fic List

summary: in which Quinn asked y/n to marry him when they graduated high school but she breaks the news that she got signed to a record label and is moving to California. 5 years later, they meet again and rekindle their romance.

notes: taylor swift does not exist in this universe… you’ll understand why. also, i think i genuinely very much dislike this one, but that may also just be me being hypercritical of my own writing. not proofread.

**PAST**

“congratulations graduating class of 2017. you did it!”

i grin, standing and joining the rest of my class and tossing my cap in the air. i’m finally free.

family and friends pile onto the football field that held our graduation and i scan the crowds of newly graduated students, looking for my boyfriend. i finally spot him over with his family, whispering with his brothers. i walk over with a wide smile on my face, and watch as his brother, Luke, nudges him, pointing my way. Quinn looks over and smiles back.

“we did it, Quinny!” i cheer when i arrive at his side. he pulls me in by the waist, dipping me into a kiss.

“we did it, pretty girl.” he whispers when we pull away.

“i have amazing news, bubs!” i can’t wait any longer, i’ve kept my secret for the past two months, not wanting to jinx it. but now that my contract is signed and i’m officially moving next month, it’s finally time that i can share the news; i signed a recording contract. Quinn has always been supportive of my dreams, and when i started posting my songs online, he was the one who predicted that i would get signed to a record label. so i know he’ll be excited when he finds out he was right.

“i can’t wait to hear it, babe. but, i have a question first.” Quinn looks towards his family. his brothers bounce on their feet and his parents are talking with mine, but both sets of parents have their eyes on us. when i see them go quiet and smile, my brows furrow in confusion and i tilt my head. but when i look back at Quinn, i understand why.

my boyfriend of three years, since the summer before sophomore year, is bent down on one knee. my eyes grow wide and i watch as he reaches into his pants pocket, pulling out a ring box.

“y/n, these last three years have been the best years of my life. you make me feel like the happiest man in the world when i’m with you.” i tear up. “you’ve been my biggest supporter since the day we met, and i’m so grateful that i get to call you mine. but now, i’d love it if i could call you my wife. will you marry me?”

tears roll down my cheeks and i’m at a loss for words. i can’t say yes. i want to say yes. i want to say yes, so badly. but i’m moving to California next month, and he’ll be staying in Michigan to go play hockey for University of Michigan.

“Quinn. i- i can’t.” his face drops and my heart feels like it’s been shattered into a million little pieces. “i got signed to a record label. i leave for L.A. next month.”

Quinn stands, nodding his head in embarrassment.

“yeah, no, yeah i probably should’ve let you tell me your news first.” he frowns.

“i’m so sorry, Quinny. i- i don’t know what to say. i would say yes, you know if the circumstances were different, i would say yes.” tears still blue my vision, but i can still see him nod.

“yeah, i know.”

**PRESENT**

Quinn and i tried to make it work after that, but our dynamic was off. and i know i bruised his ego a bit too hard for us to make it through. by the time i left for Los Angeles, we were broken up.

now it’s been five years since we broke up, and i still can’t help but think back on our relationship. sure, i’ve gone on dates and had one short-term boyfriend in the past few years, but no one has measured up to Quinn. he was my soulmate and the one who got away. lately, it seems like all i can do is write songs about him and our relationship, and my fans have definitely taken a notice. even now, i’m in my studio, recording a new song and it’s about him.

“he wanted it comfortable, i wanted that pain. he wanted a bride, i was making my own name. chasing that fame. he stayed the same. all of me changed like midnight.”

i finish off the intro and i can hear my producers voice through the speaker in the recording booth.

“that was great, y/n. i think that was the last take that we needed for that one. let’s move onto the first verse.” she says. i nod and hear the beat pick up again.

“my town was a wasteland. full of cages, full of fences. pageant queens and big pretenders. but for some, it was paradise. my boy was a montage. a slow-motion, love potion. jumping off things in the ocean. i broke his heart ‘cause he was nice. he was sunshine, i was midnight rain.”

tears gather in my eyes, pushing to fall, and i attempt to blink them away, but all the blinking does is make them spill over, rolling down my cheeks. the door to the recording booth opens and my producer, Ashley, steps through.

“hey, are you okay?” she asks sweetly, rubbing a hand on my back as i wipe away my tears.

“yeah, it’s just still really hard.” i let out a weak laugh at how pathetic i am. crying over a guy i dated five years ago. “god, i’m so stupid.”

“you’re not stupid, y/n. you made the decision that you thought was best for you at the time. looking back, would you have made the same decision?” in addition to being my producer, Ashley is also my best friend. we’ve actually been friends since eighth grade, and when she graduated college a year ago with her bachelor’s degree in music, i hired her.

“i- i don’t know. i mean, i love where i ended up, career wise. but i miss him so much, Ash.” i reply. my tears have started to ease, but now i’m stuffed up from crying and can’t record at the moment, so i hang up my headphones on the microphone.

“then, maybe you’re a little stupid.” she jokes. i shake my head, letting out another weak laugh.

“i know what will cheer you up.” she sing-songs. “i have tickets to the Ducks game tonight. let’s go cheer for some hot hockey guys. maybe we’ll even get to embarrass Trevor.”

i smile and nod in agreement. Trevor is another close friend of mine. he’s actually the best friend of Quinn’s brother, Jack. i never met him when he lived in Michigan for USNTDP, but the hockey world is small, so i was only a little surprised when i met him last year at an Anaheim Ducks event and found out he knew the Hughes family.

“okay. let’s go embarrass Trevor.” i tell Ashley. she cheers and we leave the studio, heading back to our apartment to get ready.

**

Ashley and i arrived to the Honda Center about fifteen minutes before warmups started, finding our glass seats and settling in. when the Ducks skate onto the ice and we see Trevor, we jump up and cheer.

“WOOO! GO TREVY!” i scream as he hits the puck in the net for a practice shot, catching his attention. he looks over and laughs, skating over to the glass and banging in front of my face. i laugh and joke- “fancy seeing you here!”

“you guys can try and embarrass me all you want. i’m a shameless man. i’m fueled on your shouts and cheers.” he says, a wide grin on his face.

“who you chirping at tonight?” i ask. Ashley never actually told me who they’re playing against. it’s at that moment that the opposing team skates onto the ice, and i’m frozen in place when i see the Canucks.

“your ex.” Trevor wags his eyebrows before skating off to finish his warmups.

“what the hell, Ashley?” i’m angry, you can tell as much by my voice, and i know she knows why.

“it’s just watching a game, y/n/n. you still love him, it’s not like you don’t watch his games on tv.” she replies, shrugging her shoulders.

“that’s different. he can’t tell i’m watching through the tv. what if he sees me?” i spot him on the ice, talking to one of his team members, and immediately turn to face Ashley, hoping he won’t recognize me. i don’t want him to think i’m pathetic and still in love with him. it’s the truth, but it’s embarrassing enough without him knowing. i’m sure he’s moved on by now.

i’m able to make it through warmups without him noticing me, but i’m not so lucky when the game actually starts. it’s only halfway through the first period when Quinn scores the first goal of the game, and before i can think twice, i’m up on my feet clapping and celebrating.

“WOOO!” i yell, and Ashley laughs at me, teasing me about how i’ll always be an internal WAG. but i let her comments roll of my back and continue to cheer, watching as he stops not far from the glass in front of us, getting hugged by his teammates. “GO QUINNY!”

it’s then that he turns, eyes wide, and i realize i’ve made a grave mistake. my voice plus the nickname has tipped him off. he spots me, and i freeze, my hands mid-clap. i let my hands fall to my sides, and Ashley pulls me back down to my seat by the back of my jacket. Quinn’s gaze stays focused on me, and i give a small wave in return. he raises his hand back at me, and i can tell he’s still shocked to see me but one of this teammates pulls his attention back to the game.

throughout the rest of the game, Quinn continues to glance over towards me, and i regret letting Ash rope me into attending this game. it ends with 4-2, Canucks winning, and i feel bad for Trevor, but i can’t help feeling proud of Quinn. Ashley and i stay in our seats, talking after the teams leave the ice, and i get a text from a number i never thought i would hear from again.

—

From: Huggy Bear 🧸🤍

meet me outside the visitors dressing room please. i think we should talk.

—

the text makes me nervous. is he mad that i was here? did i upset him by being here? by cheering for him? i show the text to Ash and she says she’ll grab an uber home so that she doesn’t impose on our conversation.

i find my way to the visitors dressing room, giving my name to the security to find that Quinn had already informed them i would be coming. i stand in the hallway waiting, looking over every time the dressing room door opens. i sign a few autographs and take some pictures with a few of the players for their girlfriends or sisters while i wait.

it feels like the entire team has left when Quinn finally comes out. i watch him as he steps out, dressed back in his arrival suit.

he looks so good, it’s unfair.

“hey.” he says, walking over to me. “you were at the game.”

“i was.” i tell him, my voice cracking with my emotion. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to upset you by coming. i didn’t even-”

“you didn’t upset me.” he cuts me off. i study his face, trying to gauge how he feels. i used to be able to read him easily, and it seems like that talent hasn’t left me. “i was surprised to see you. i’ve never seen you at any of my other games, i kinda just assumed you didn’t care now that we’re… not together.”

“i watch all your games, Quinny.” my voice is barely above a whisper. soft and anxiety ridden.

“you do?” he questions, his voice full of hope.

“yeah. well, every one i can. i’ve even missed events just to stay home and watch. i never stopped caring about you, Q. just because we aren’t together anymore, doesn’t mean i don’t think about you.” i tell him. “a lot.”

“you think about me a lot? you ever write a song about me then?” he teases, but now i’m wondering if he’s ever even listened to any of my songs.

“all of my songs are about you, Quinny.” i confess. “even my new ones.”

“you can’t- you can’t just say that, y/n. i’ll start thinking things that i know aren’t true.” he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair.

“like what?” i look at him with doe eyes, the exact ones i know he loved five years ago.

“like that i might still have a chance with you.” he says lowly. i might regret my next words, but i need to get them off my chest.

“can i confess something?” i ask.

“yeah, of course.” he replies

“if you asked me again, i would say yes.” i tell him. “if i could go back to that day, i would’ve said yes.”

Quinn’s response comes in the form of his lips against mine. his hands hold my face and i press my body closer to his. my reaction is immediate, my lips moving with his. the kiss is slow and sweet, a reconnection of two lovers. he sucks on my bottom lip before his tongue pushes past my lips, slipping against my own. i pull away before the kiss can get too heated.

“will you go to dinner with me?” he asks.

“i’d love to.”

**3 YEARS LATER**

“Q! your bridezilla wants you!”

“Jack Rowden Hughes, i am not a bridezilla!” i scold. the audacity that this boy holds. calling me a bridezilla on my wedding day.

“leave my wife alone, Jack.” Quinn sighs, walking over from across the reception hall.

“yeah. leave his wife alone, Jack.” i tease. sticking my tongue out at him over Quinn’s shoulder. Quinn looks over at me, catching me pulling my tongue back into my mouth.

“you’re such a child.” he sighs, shaking his head at me.

“what does that make you? you just married me.” i ask him.

“i’m not even gonna dignify that with a response.” he replies. i’m laughing when his mom comes over.

“is everything okay, honey? i heard you and Jack arguing.” she says.

“i think everyone in here heard them arguing.” Quinn sighs again.

“hey, at least you know she’s part of the family.” Ellen laughs.

“i’m fine, momma E. Jack was just being annoying. it’s his specialty.” i shrug. Ellen laughs, kissing my cheek before walking away. Quinn takes hold of my hand, pulling me back over to our table, taking a seat and pulling me into his lap.

“what did you want me for, pretty girl?” he asks, wrapping an arm around my waist to hold me steady.

“i just missed you.” i whisper, leaning my forehead against his. he chuckles.

“i was gone for five minutes.” he reminds me.

“i know. but you left me all alone with Jack.” i complain.

“well technically, i left you with Luke. but i feel like i should be apologizing for leaving you with either of them.”

“yes. you should.” i smile.

“how about i apologize to you later? when we get home. i can apologize to you several times.”

[themology]

paper rings- m. marner

masterlist

t-swift inspired works list

requested: n

pairings: mitch marner x reader

warnings: just Taylor swift song mention + incredibly short

a/n: still taking requests!

Kiss me once 'cause you know I had a long night

Kiss me twice 'cause it's gonna be alright

Three times 'cause I've waited my whole life

you watched your boyfriend, of three years, shake a martini for guests at a wedding. it was almost like it was his calling to be a bartender. you didn’t know how he even got behind the bar or what even happened for him to be in that place, but you know one thing was for sure. he was killing it.

“you love him don’t you?” you heard a voice from behind you. you didn’t realize how long you had been standing there, or even how long mitch had been making cocktails to even notice Auston Matthews was behind you the whole time.

“a warning would have been nice.” you moved out of the way of the other guests to the side of the bar, still able to see Mitch and for him to know you were there. he kept checking on you from time to time, but he was having the time of his life.

“sorry, I couldn’t watch you gawk at him for too long or else you might ruin the happy couples wedding.” Auston snorted, taking the drink mitch poured for him. you barely even got to open your mouth before mitch moved on and was working up a sweat.

you both watched for a bit longer before the bartenders finally got tired of Mitch’s overenthusiastic characteristics, and his ideas for shots. it wasn’t even two seconds you got him back before he was joining the fun.

“if you were to get married right now, would you do it?” Auston asked, nodding his head over in Mitch’s direction watching him hype up the bride. you knew your wedding would always be magical, but once you met mitch you didn’t care where you got married. you just wanted him.

“I’d marry him with paper rings if it meant I married him now.” the idea of marriage was always a topic of conversation when you got invited to weddings. you knew Mitch was the one since you met, and you had no question he would pop the question soon.

“well you’re in luck, I heard the priest is still here if you’re serious.” Auston pointed him out, the priest was talking to the parents of the bride. it almost felt like the stars were aligning, but you would never overstep someone else’s perfect day. you would wait for your own.

you shook your head turning to Auston, “no, I’ll have my own wedding some other time, Auston.” you shot a look at the dance floor that was turning into the tossing of the bouquet. someone else’s turn to get married next. you didn’t even hesitate to make your way to the dance floor or shove your drink into Auston’s chest.

you caught Mitch’s eyes with all of the other guys rooting(or disapproving) of their girlfriends wanting to catch the bouquet badly. you could hardly read what he was thinking, but you knew the look was not a nervous one.

you caught a glimpse of Auston whispering to Mitch, most likely about the conversation you just had, but the bouquet flying in the air right towards you snapped you out of your thoughts. before you even knew it the bouquet was in your hands. when you looked up from the beautiful arrangement of blue, white, and pink flowers you were met with Mitch’s excitement coming towards you.

“so? tonight? how does that sound?” he pulled you aside from all the jealous bridesmaids, upset guests, and fuming mother in laws.

“mitch, we don’t have rings.”

“then let’s use napkins. you said you’d marry me with paper rings, so let’s do it!”

Darling, you're the one I want

In paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams

Oh, you're the one I want

[themology]

Hi! How do you find those voice audios? Especially by the guy who did the one where he finds out you get off on his voice)

Xx

so, the website itself (sound gasm) doesn’t have a search bar. so what you have to do is search it up on google or use a certain website.

sound gasm has hashtags, which helps you find what you like. there are some for accents, the type of sex you’d like, and many other options. so when searching it up, all you have to use is hashtags. (literally anything works)

what’d you search up is something like; “british accent mdom soundgasm” if you don’t use a website.

example:

now, if you don’t want to use google (because that can get messy and limits your options), use a specific website.

this website has a search bar for the hashtags, so you can put the same thing, just without the soundgasm. here is the link.

once you press the link it will show some trending searches, and you can scroll through those if they interest you. but again; there is a search bar.

example:

(you can also pick any language you want, depending on what you speak.)

and for you, anon, here is what you’d search for things like your request.

“british accent caught” or “british accent caught punishment”

hope this was helpful! and if it wasn’t i’ll gladly try to find more recourses.

[themology]

IM CRYINGGGG OMG :(((

Take Five • Mitch Marner

*not my gif

it had been five years since you had last spoken to mitch. heartbroken, you return home and are forced to come to terms with your past.

word count: 10.6k

warnings: angst, cursing, brief mentions of alcohol

Keep reading

[themology]

flavour of the week is straightening out Adrian Chase’s glasses and kissin’ his bruises

;  NOW OR NEVER  —  VIGILANTE / READER

summary: you patch adrian up. feelings come to a head. adebayo just hopes you two don’t fuck on her desk, y’know?

pairing: adrian chase / f!reader (ex-hero)

rating: t for kisses and the usual vig characterizations

a/n: this beautiful gif has ocupied my brain for the last day — it’s from this loevly set by the @life-or-something-like-lt! anywho, who ordered ex-hero who stops crime fighting because of a horrible injury and mental health? it’s comin’ right up! pipin’ hawt! there’s lots of feelings in this one, so enjoy my first lil’ adrian piece. ;-) 

“Vigilante.”

“I mean, who knew the human body had a whole gallon and a half of blood in it! Seriously, that’s, like, a whole jug of milk. But, blood—”

“Vig...”

“It’s cool, y’know, because the suit is machine washable. Isn’t that great? The only shitty thing is that I definitely have blood in my boots and I can totally feel it between my toes right now—”

“Adrian.”

His mouth snaps shut. Above you, you spy his eyes move down to inspect your expression. He has that look on his face — the one that’s half-proud and half-boyish. He presses his lips together and inhales through his nose.

You offer him a wry look.

Hardly punishment.

“Sorry,” he says as he leans back against the desk and lets you continue your work, “Right.”

He swallows down a smile.

You shift in your boots. His long legs are crossed at the ankle. He pops his arms across the chest of his suit.

“It would be one thing — look up — if I wasn’t trying to figure out if you had a broken jaw,” you say slowly as you move your fingers along the sharp contour of his face; you’re gentle, Adrian's eyes slip shut, “Does that hurt?”

You press lightly against the hinge of his jaw. Even through the light, mint-colored gloves, you can feel the warmth of his skin. He shakes his head despite a minute wince.

“Sorta sore?”

“Definitely to be expected when you face plant off a third-story balcony...” you mutter matter-of-fact.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about—”

“Don’t even try. I saw the footage,” you jab playfully with a rare smile — it cracks through your usual stoic expression like the sun on a cloudy day, and Adrian swears it’s the prettiest thing in the world.

He’s distracted.

His reply is a moment late.

“...Wait — who the fuck showed you that?”

“I did,” comes the voice of Leota — she has her bag slung over her shoulder as she exits Murn’s dim office and slides the two of you a look, “Gotta keep you humble, Vig.”

“Seriously?” he nearly whines, brows tightening. You lean away with a little laugh, gathering up a cotton swab and some rubbing alcohol. Over your shoulder, you catch Leota toss up a loving middle finger towards the man posed at your make-shift medical station.

He tosses it back, but even his pout is laced with affection.

You laugh quietly to yourself.

You like this team.

It’s been a long time since you’ve been on a team.

You followed Leota here from Gotham — promising help to one of your oldest and best friends. As a forcibly retired B-list vigilante, you earned yourself enough trust with Murn’s team to find a spot on the roster.

Apparently, Economos was a fan. Adrian, too.

She’s only the coolest fucker to ever grace the ranks of the Justice League. Have you seen her iconic fight with Poison Ivy in the Gotham Commons back in 2019? Seriously, guys, Adrian had griped to the team’s push back, Old news. We’re Whisper stans in this house.

...It was nice.

...Sweet, even.

“It was graceful, at least,” you say slowly as you look back up at Adrian. The bridge of his nose is split where his trademarked visor dug into his skin. There’s a black eye starting, “Not the landing, though. That was—”

“Face down ass up, dude.”

You snort at Leota’s comment.

“Are you leaving?” Adrian asks as he waves his hands in her direction, “Please tell me you’re leaving.”

It’s Adebayo’s turn to laugh. You muscle your smile down as you lean a hand on the table and wait for Adrian to stop squirming before you move your attention to his nose.

“Oh, yea, no — I’ll leave you two to it,” she waves as she pushes the door open. It’s late, and it’s raining, and the woman slips a look over her shoulder, “See you two tomorrow...?”

There’s an expectant edge in her voice.

Between Leota and the grave, she’d been watching the two of you through Murn’s office window and was totally seeing the way you two have been looking at one another when the other isn’t looking. It’s gross. Cute-gross. Cutross. Grute.

...You know Leota is convinced something is going on between you and Adrian.

Truth be told, maybe there was.

But, that was between you and your thoughts — and the smiles that he somehow earned that no one else did.

“See you tomorrow, Le.”

She hesitates, looks at the two of you, then smiles. “Night, guys.”

“Night,” Vig offers – albeit it’s a bit of a grumble.

The door closes, and you turn your full attention back to Adrian Chase.

Handsome, handsome Adrian Chase.

You’ve wondered since you’ve met him if he knows. Is he aware that you think about him more than any other co-worker you’ve had, masked or not? Seriously, more than Bats. And Bats was Bats. Everyone had the hots for Bats. But, not like this. Not like how you have the hots for Vigilante. You.

Does he know you think he’s funny, even if his immaturity borders on all-encompassing? Does Adrian know you’re distracted now, standing this close and this alone?

You dab the cotton ball lightly against his nose.

He hisses.

“Sorry,” comes your quiet apology.

“S’okay,” he placates you. His eyes are screwed tight. You’re glad, really, because he has a habit of watching. It makes you feel things. A lot of things.

There’s quiet then. You’re slow when you pull a bandage from the first aid kit to place on the bridge of his nose. You assess the laceration, decide to gently dab a bit of antibacterial ointment on it, and peel open the white bandage.

“I can’t believe she showed you the video.”

You huff a little laugh out. “It was funny.”

He pries one eye open.

You’re smiling again.

The corners of Adrian’s mouth quirk. “Yea?”

“Yea,” you look down, and he opens both eyes. You gently pull the paper from the back of the dressing, “I, uh, I’ve had some falls like that before.”

His brows climb his face. “The Whisper? Has faceplanted? I refuse to believe that.”

You swat at his shoulder, but you’re smiling still. Even more so, a laugh is pried from your chest and Vig can’t help the surge of pride he feels at being able to conjure the sound. “Stop it — look at me? Thank you.”

Adrian’s lashes kiss his cheeks when you press the bandage neatly over the broken bridge of his nose. Your thumbs smooth the adhesive down along his cheeks — and he swears he’s not imagining the way you linger.

When he opens his eyes, you’re looking him over.

It feels like forever.

His chest burns.

He swallows thickly.

His voice is quiet when he finds your eyes. “...You okay?”

This time, it’s your reply that falters.

...Fuck, your heart feels like it’s on fire.

You blink at him, clear your throat, and crinkle the wrapper in your hand. “Y-Yea. Yea, I’m fine.”

“...Do I smell?”

“...What?”

“You’re looking at me like I smell.”

“...No, you... I don’t think you smell—?”

“I hope not,” he chatters, still maintaining dead-honest eye contact, “Because that would totally kill the mood.”

“The mood?” you press on, holding his gaze.

“Yea, you know — beautiful girl patching up my... totally bad-ass injuries from... like, saving the world and not falling off a balcony.”

Your smile stutters back alive. “Oh, right.”

“Right,” he chirps, “And I don’t even have my glasses on and I know you’re giving me that really pretty smile right now. The one you do when I start going on and on and on like this—”

Your heart stutters on the compliment. Then, your eyes widen in realization. “Oh.”

You ditch your gloves quickly and Adrian blinks. Fishing in your pocket with clean, bare hands, you then procure his glasses. Silver frames. A little big for his face.

“Here, let me,” you say as you flip open the glasses and hold them up to his face.

You’re careful to mind his nose.

Adrian swears this is, like... a fucking fever dream.

Does he have it this bad? That, like, you putting his glasses on for him has his heart hammering so hard he’s half-convinced he could pass out? Never mind the fact that he swears he’s two seconds from getting rock hard because you’re being gentle with him. Kind and sweet and gentle and doting and you’re the fucking Whisper.

You’re, like, famous.

A hero. A serious, real, retired hero.

Your fingers sit along the silver frame as you adjust his glasses against his face.

You step back to survey your work temporarily.

...Yep, just as beautiful as he thought.

Then, you come back into his orbit to adjust them.

...Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity fuckle fuck.

“There we go,” you breathe.

“Thanks.”

His voice is hoarse.

You notice.

"Anytime,” you say, half-here and half-there and completely focused on the way his green eyes are flicking across your face.

Now that he can really see, this whole thing is a thousand times more real.

Your hands are lingering on his glasses.

Then, they slip to his cheeks.

Your attention sticks to the bruise crawling around one of his eye sockets — it’s a nasty mess of purple and yellow. You hum. “Promise me you’ll ice this?”

“Worried about me, Whispy?” comes his chirped reply, despite it being soft and earnest.

Another smile. Slow, but bright. It isn’t an answer, but it is enough.

It’s enough to send Adrian careening towards the cliff’s edge.

Suddenly, he’s blurting out:

“Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes widen enough that Adrian can see your pupils dilate. The swivel of interest in your eyes stokes some confidence in him; after all, he can’t help but feel a little out of his league here. But, you are here. Touching him.

When you nod, it takes everything in him not to crash his mouth against yours.

He gets close — and when your hands fall to his chest, he’s pushed back slightly.

“Gently,” you remind, your lips centimeters from his, “Your nose.”

Oh, fuck his nose.

Ow, ow, ow — never mind, gentle is good. Gentle... Gentle.

....Gentle.

Gentle is nice.

Gentle is slow and soft and hands on his chest as his arms snake around your waist and tug you closer. Gentle is chest to chest, fingers crawling up his armor, with your lips against his. Tentative. Lovely. Gentle is a hitch of your breath that exists in the momentary break of the kiss. Gentle is Adrian’s nose to your cheek as you lean up into him.

Gentle is a month of tension easing into a simmer — and gentle tastes like honey tea. His gentle tastes like cinnamon gum.

“God, you’re so pretty. Seriously, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, ever, and you’re so nice—”

“Adrian.”

His whisper is spoken against your mouth. His glasses nudge your cheek. You smile into another slow and heady flow of kisses.

“Stop talking and just kiss me.”

“Right.”

[themology]

😶😶😶😶

“what did you say i had?” anakin grins, inclining toward you as your face is pressed up against the cool wall, moving inside of you, hard cock kissing your cervix with each thrust. you can feel his breath on your neck. he knows you can’t speak, can’t think. “‘big dick energy’?”

he mocks you.