quinniferhughesenthusiast

[quinniferhughesenthusiast]

fuckkkkk nix, this is so gooooooood

Can I please have Luke begging to eat you out?

Hello, lovely. I truly hope you're still there. I fear people that beg is my downfall. I am so WEAK for them. Anyway...hope you'll enjoy this. 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

18+. Whore thoughts. Oral sex (f receiving). Slight overstimulation. ⬇️⬇️⬇️

Luke would be shifting in the bed, his ears straining to hear you over the running shower, his boxers feeling so restraining over his extremely hard cock that had been leaking and dripping with pre-cum. He was so fucking horny right now. He didn't know why but he was. Most especially, he needed something. Specifically, he needed the taste of your pussy on his tongue.

The sudden craving was making him lose his mind. His skin felt hot and tight around his body. His head spun. His mouth felt dry with even after drank his whole water bottle, because he wasn't thirsty for water. No. He was thirsty for you, your arousal, and your cum. It didn't matter if he already ate you out this morning. He just needed to taste you—

"Ohh, that was a great shower," you announced as you exited the bathroom that had a slight steam coming out of it.

That meant you had one of those scalding showers, making the hairs on his nape stand. Those actually threatened to burn his skin. Thank goodness he didn't join you even when he was so horny.

Luke stared at you, at how your nightgown fell loosely around your thighs, at how you softly patted your hair which made your tits move with the motions, at how your nipples peaked, hypnotizing him, making him even more painfully turned on. He was basically fucking panting as you sat on your vanity, putting lotion on your arms, your shoulders, your thighs, your shin, your feet. Luke sat up, his chest squeezing when you started dusting powder on your skin. He could smell vanilla. So creamy, so incredibly tantalizing right now.

"Sweetheart," he voiced out, almost jumping when you turned towards him, your attention searing heat down his cock. Subtly, he pushes up one knee, trying to hide his hard-on. "Umm..."

"Yes, Lukey?" You came closer, putting your towel on the vanity, taking a smaller one so you could still pat your hair dry.

"Do you really need to wake up early?" He asked, gasping when you crawled towards him. His eyes fell to your neckline. He cursed as you settled next to him, kissing his cheek, making him fucking explode inwardly. His mouth felt so dry.

"No." You shook your head, frowning. "Something wrong? You're so red right now." Your hand came up to his forehead. "You don't—"

"I need you," he helplessly said. He softly guided your hand under the sheets, to his crotch, letting you feel the mess he had made. "Please. I know you said you wanted to sleep after your shower, but I need you."

He knew you understood him. This wasn't the first time he had come onto you because he was so driven by his desires. There was only one time you had rejected his pleas—you had work the next day—so he hoped this was not another of that. He would step back if you did, but he hoped you didn't.

But then, you grinned at him, your hand wrapping around his aching length. "Oh? What exactly do you need?"

Luke's tongue failed him. His brain stuttered as your hand jerked up and down. The friction of his boxers mixed by your movements had put a damper in his thoughts. Just a few more strokes he would come. Just a few—

He groaned, almost whining, because you stopped. You fucking stopped. How could you be so cruel? The spark in your eyes made him realize that you knew he didn't want you to jerk him off. You knew he needed more.

As he made his way between your legs, as he gripped your thighs apart, as he pushes the hem of your nightgown up using his thumbs, he repeated, "I need you."

You bit your lip, pulling up your dress, exposing your lace panties that has a growing wet patch. "Beg."

A harsh shiver ran down his spine. He leaned forward, pressing kisses on your inner thighs, his lips trembling as his desperation heightened for every contact. You were so soft, so sweet, so pretty.

"Please, sweetheart. I need you on my tongue. Need to taste you. Just one taste. Please, please, please. I'm so thirsty. I need to make you come on my tongue. I need your cum. My sweet, please," Luke begged. His words twisted again, slurring together as he was already getting drunk at the mere scent of your lotion on your skin, at the slightest whiff of your pussy. He dared to hover closer on your cunt, softly blowing right over your clit, making you whine, but he still continued. "Please," he said over and over and over again.

"Okay, just one taste," you finally said.

So, he feasted, licking over the wet lace, from your entrance to your clit, moaning at the taste of your pussy. The exact flavor he was craving for what felt like eternity. It was you. All you. He licked again, swallowing, inhaling your scent, grinning at your cries.

Then he finally casted your panties to the side, he licked again, whimpering at your concentrated taste as you dripped on his tongue, giving him so much when he barely started. Your wet cunt pulsed for every pass of his tongue, begging him to fill you up. So, he did. He dipped his tongue into your pussy, groaning at your squeeze, moaning at your arousal flooding him. This. This was what he needed. What he waited for. So, he let himself lose.

He surrendered his control, letting his lust drive him, as he swallowed and licked and kissed your pussy. His hips grinded down against the bed, making a mess of his own while he licked up yours.

He could do this for hours. Fucking you with his tongue. Pulling out when he felt the familiar pulses of your pussy. Grinding his nose on your clit. Panting his moans and groans against your pussy. He couldn't have enough of you. He needed more and more.

He didn't care about how hard you tugged at his hair or how your thighs wrapped around his head like you wanted to suffocate him. He could die between your thighs, and he would be ecstatic. He would die feasting on your pussy. It would be a great death, because he would be taking your flavor to the afterlife. Such grotesque thoughts didn't bother him as he continued teasing your pussy then he finally let you come with his fingers fucking you as he sucked and licked your clit.

Luke went after your cum, sliding his tongue deeply with his fingers riding out your orgasm. He swallowed like man starved because he was. Only when your foot pushed against his shoulder did he parted from your pussy. Yet his fingers kept fucking you, doing a come-hither motion that had you screaming. You came again and again, your back arching off the bed, so damn lost in your ecstasy.

"I need more," he said as soon as you came down, writhing as he continued with his fingers. "Please, let me."

"Oh, fuck!" You cursed as he dove in, eating you out with more fervor. "Luke!"

Your thighs shook, your hips thrusting up so harshly and sharply, your body shaking as he pushed down on your lower abdomen as he pressed on the spongy spot that had your cunt squeezing his fingers, that had you whimpering, that had your toes curling. When you came again, he was also coming inside his boxers, coating himself with his own hot cum.

"Luke, give me a break, please," you started to beg, so he pulled back. "One second."

"One second," he echoed, licking his lips, groaning at your arousal on his face.

He watched you nod and pant as you tried to calm down with your legs quivering, your pussy hole clenching on nothing. That pained Luke. He could fill you up. He needed to, so he softly plunged two fingers into your heat, making you whimper, looking down at him.

"Wait," you gasped.

"I am," he assured.

You nodded, closing your eyes, shuddering. Luke waited until you gave him your go signal again, until his cock hardened with every sound coming out of your lips and your pussy as he took his time with you, until he had you coming all over his face again.

Good night!! 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️

Lovelies: @dancerbailey3 @loser-pretty-girl @r0wdymaize86 @tiredallthetimex

-> more thoughts? List. Want to be notified? Join my taglist!

[quinniferhughesenthusiast]

my new coffee obsession is my homemade salted brown sugar vanilla syrup I’ve been making, it’s so fucking bomb

I’m considering making my third coffee of the day

[quinniferhughesenthusiast]

oh jealousy, you are so sweet

mine, actually | jh86

requests are open

summary: jack gets a little territorial at a party

You weren’t trying to make him jealous.

Honestly. You just looked good tonight—red top, denim skirt, and that shimmer on your collarbone Jack always liked—and people noticed. Simple.

The frat party was already buzzing when you got there with your best friend, music pulsing through the walls of the house. You spotted Jack across the room immediately—backwards cap, blue hoodie hanging off his shoulders like a damn model, red Solo cup in hand, and that easy, cocky grin as he talked to a couple of guys from the team.

You hadn’t texted him that you were coming.

Maybe part of you wanted to see his reaction.

So when Nate (some junior from your econ class) offered you a drink and leaned in a little too close, you didn’t pull away. Not immediately.

But then you saw him.

Jack. Watching.

His jaw was tight. That grin? Gone.

You felt it in your stomach.

When Nate laughed at something you barely registered and reached out to brush a piece of hair behind your ear—that was when Jack moved.

Like, really moved. Through the crowd. Zero hesitation.

“Yo.” Jack’s voice was low and unmistakable, right behind you. “Didn’t know you were into finance bros now.”

You turned, trying not to smile. His eyes were hard, but not cold. No—there was heat there.

“Didn’t know I had to ask your permission,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow.

Jack tilted his head slightly, stepped a little closer, eyes flickering to Nate.

“She’s good,” he said shortly, voice clipped. “You can go.”

Nate blinked, looked between the two of you. “Uh... right. Yeah. Catch you later.”

Jack didn’t say a word until Nate was gone. Then:

“Seriously? That guy?”

You crossed your arms. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” Jack leaned in, his voice quiet now, sharp. “You know what you’re doing.”

You stared at him. “And what’s that?”

Jack looked down, tongue pressing into his cheek. When he looked up again, his eyes were darker. “You want me to get jealous?”

Your silence said more than words.

Jack’s jaw flexed.

“I don’t like sharing,” he said simply.

You raised a brow. “We’re not even dating, Hughes.”

He stepped closer—too close. Your back bumped the wall behind you.

“We could be,” he murmured.

Oh.

His hand braced beside your head. You could smell the beer on his breath, but beneath that—him. Familiar. Warm.

“You show up looking like that,” he said, voice rougher now, “let some random dude flirt with you in my house—”

“Your frat doesn’t own me, Jack,” you cut in, but your voice wavered.

“No,” he said, and leaned down, lips barely brushing your ear, “but you are mine.”

Your breath caught.

“Say it,” he said, gaze flicking to your lips.

“You’re being ridiculous,” you whispered, but your pulse was racing.

“Say it.”

You swallowed. “Fine. I wanted you to notice me.”

Jack smirked—smirked like he just won something. And maybe he had.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I noticed.”

Then his mouth was on yours—hot, insistent, tasting of beer and want. His hand slid to your waist, gripping tight like he didn’t want to let go. You kissed him back, fingers fisting the front of his hoodie, and he groaned against your lips.

When he pulled back, your lipstick was smudged and his eyes were wild.

“You’re mine,” he said again, voice wrecked. “Say it.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “Yours, Hughes. Relax.”

He grinned, leaned in again, pressing one more kiss to your lips—slow this time.

“Good,” he murmured. “Now let’s get out of here before I have to break another guy’s nose.”

You laughed, letting him pull you through the crowd, hand gripping yours like a promise.

[quinniferhughesenthusiast]

matt boldy can get it that’s for fucking sure

THIS IS SO GOT ANDY, IM OBSESSED

hiiiii bestie boo. happy 1st birthday to my fav blog xoxo. for my first request in a hot minute, could i please have a cappuccino with cold foam for matt boldy 🤭 (my vision: phone cheer up sex… more specifically, phone sex after game 1 vs vgk- kinda comforting/distracting him, but also rewarding/hyping him up a lil bc he slayed and scored 2 goals!!! go bolds wooooo)

ITS BEEN A MINUTE! but u r here. requesting again. my skin is clear and the world is healed. crazy that the boldy request came before the q one but hey we all know where your head's at nowadays... if you feel the prickle of a curse coming on, let me know.... (i'm teasing! we've already had this discourse on imessage! anyway your blurb got changed a bit because it's been so long since the first round of the playoffs but you knew that too ok cool bye)

“Matty, you did so well,” you say gently. “You had the most playoff goals on the team, baby. I’m proud of you.”

“Tied,” Matt corrects in a sullen voice. “I tied for the most goals in post-season.”

You don’t have a reply for him, instead biting the inside of your cheek and tilting your head to watch him more closely through the screen. You’re on FaceTime now, with Matt at his place after the game, unpacking his hockey bag rather violently. He’s not in the mood to hang out, but he’s also not in the mood to be alone. He’s not so much talking as he is grunting when you say something he agrees with and correcting you when you say something he disagrees with and it’s getting pretty fucking old. 

You love Matt. You’ve been dating Matt for almost a year now. One bad mood won’t kill you, but this one is testing your patience.

“Matt, I know you’re disappointed, but you guys were really good out there,” you say. “You fought hard and made it to six games and I know it’s not the outcome you wanted, but it’s the outcome you got. You did really well. You’re a good hockey player.”

It’s Matt’s turn to be quiet. You know he’s got doubts racing through his head, retorts bubbling up that are along the lines of “not good enough,” but you’re not willing to hear them.

“Really, Matty,” you continue. You might as well try a new tactic, one that Matt always seems to fall for. “You looked so good out there.” You adjust against your pillows, the rustling catching Matt’s attention. “Soo good.”

His gaze is laser-sharp, zeroing in on you. “How good?” he asks.

“So fucking good, Matt,” you repeat. “I could barely take my eyes off of you. Whenever I saw you spit on the ice, I swear I could feel it on my cunt.”

Matt’s eyebrows lift toward his hairline and all the grumpiness in his expression vanishes. For a moment he stalls, but then a smile creeps across his face. “‘So fucking good’ that you… touched yourself while you watched me?”

“Hm, believe it or not, I didn’t touch myself to my boyfriend’s televised hockey game,” you laugh. You shake your hair out of your face and snuggle into the pillows a bit further. “I was waiting for you to come home before I touched myself.”

“Good,” Matt says. “Do it. Touch yourself now.”

It sounds like a dare, the way he says it, but you were scheming to get to this point. Being alone in your bed and imagining Matt isn’t as good as the real thing, but you’re happy to do this if it gets his mind off of the loss. 

“How should I do it?”

“Slow,” Matt instructs. “I want to see everything.”

“Everything?” you tease.

“Everything,” Matt confirms in a deadly serious voice. “Spit on your fingers and touch your clit.”

You grin at Matt and bring your fingers to your mouth. “Yes, sir,” you say before fulfilling Matt’s request and wiggling your slick fingers beneath the waistband of your panties. He can probably see that your nipples are already straining against your thin tank top, the one you’d decided to wear to bed before Matt decided he wasn’t coming over. 

The pads of your fingertips pet over your clit, which has been aching for a touch all night. The waiting was worth it, because your first circle over the sensitive bundle of nerves rewards you. A shiver runs through your body and you’re inclined to apply more pressure and rub faster, but you keep yourself in check. You want to put on a good show for Matt, since he’d put on such a good show for you earlier tonight. 

His hands are absentmindedly moving on the screen, keeping themselves busy albeit lagging while his eyes trace your movements. Matt pulls a shirt from his hockey bag and folds it badly, fabric slipping from his grip when you decide to mess with him and moan out loud. He’s easy.

“I wish you were here,” you say. Matt’s going to reply, then you spread your folds and plunge a finger inside of yourself. You know he saw what you did from the way your hand has stretched the fabric of your panties, the angle causing them to pull away from your body. “Been horny all night. I bet I taste good, Matty.”

He bites down on and releases his lower lip when your hand retracts from your panties. As you slide your finger into your mouth, sucking the juices away with hollowed cheeks and whimpering around the digit, Matt’s jaw goes slack. “Let me see,” he says.

With a self-satisfied little smile, you remove your panties. You run your fingers up your slit, gathering wetness before spreading your folds with your index and middle finger.

“Shit,” Matt mumbles. One of his hands drifts down to adjust himself in his sweats, then stays hovering there. He’s not quite stroking himself, but his hand rests on his rapidly-filling length.

“You always make me so wet,” you say. “You’re so messy, baby. You like making out with my hole, don’t you?”

Matt offers you a sheepish grin. “You know I love it.”

“If you were here…” you trail off, fingers stroking your clit. You try to emulate the way his tongue flicks over the bud, but it’s futile. Nothing is like Matt. “Does it ever kiss back, baby?”

Matt chuckles, but he considers the question seriously. He nods after a moment. “When I fuck you with my tongue and you squeeze me,” he says. “Sometimes when you react, it feels like that.”

“That’s when you start fucking me with your fingers, though,” you say.

“Because you’re so needy,” Matt replies. “You must be dying to be filled, baby.”

“Dying for it,” you agree. “I wish there was a big cock inside me.” You pout for him, jutting out your bottom lip. “All I have are these little fingers.” You wiggle them at the camera, as if you’re waving playfully at your boyfriend.

“I bet they’ll work,” Matt says. “If you make yourself come on them now, I’ll come over and fuck you real nice.”

“I thought you didn’t want to come over tonight,” you reply as you slide your index finger back into your eager hole. It barely stretches you, your pussy accepting it as light work. You start to curl and pump it slowly, making sure Matt can see how your wrist flexes and twists. “I thought you were in a bad mood.”

“About what? I’m not in a bad mood.” Matt genuinely pulls his eyebrows together in confusion, eyes flickering up to your face before it dawns on him. “Oh, the game? No, I don’t care about that. Add another finger.”

You obey him and try to hide the smug look on your face. “Tit for tat, Matt,” you say.

“What?”

“Show me the cock that’ll stuff me full later tonight,” you purr in your most sensual voice, really turning on the charm. You wiggle your two fingers inside of yourself, the space becoming a little crowded now. “I need to know what I’m getting myself into.”

“You’ve seen it before,” Matt laughs, but he pushes his waistband down anyway. His cock bobs free and he wraps a hand around its base, giving you his best angle.

You bite down on the tip of your tongue to tamper your physical response to the sight of Matt’s cock, then speak. Now you’re just playing with him. “Do you think it’ll fit, Matty? Or should I fuck myself with three fingers?”

“Three,” Matt confirms in an instant, waltzing right into the trap you’d set up for him. 

“Do you like seeing how I stretch for you, Matt?” you ask. All of your questions might as well be rhetorical, knowing your boyfriend well enough to answer them for him, but you like hearing him. “How I take as many fingers as I can, and I’ll still feel tight around your cock? Gonna milk all the cum from you and make you eat me out after. Make up for missing my first orgasm. So mean of you to leave me all on my own…”

Matt reacts appropriately, yanking his sweats back up and grabbing his phone from where it was propped up on his bedside table. You can hear him grabbing his keys and cursing under his breath when he steals another look at you, your ring finger joining the other two. “Fuck, Y/N, don’t fucking come before I get there,” he commands in a strangled voice. 

“But you told me to?” You play dumb, tilting your head to the side. You curl your fingers up and rub against your inner walls, breaking the ploy to moan and affect Matt even more. 

“Don’t– fucking– if I get pulled over, it’s on you,” Matt declares before your screen goes black. He shoved you in his pocket, as if that will bring him peace. His phone automatically connects to the speakers in his car, which he’d had redone so the sound is even better. You whimper, high-pitched, and you hear Matt curse again.

The next ten minutes are going to be very difficult for him.

[quinniferhughesenthusiast]

tumblr is the only place I can go without getting love island spoiled while I watch the scf

[quinniferhughesenthusiast]

omg this is hitting

NEED pussydrunk cowboy luke, you’ve really done it now meg

https://www.tumblr.com/star2fishmeg/776760446082547712/ive-just-had-a-cowboyluke-blurb-idea-and-im-b-u

pls share🤭

Slow, precise licks through your folds until he reaches your clit, lips sucking gently while his hands situate on your waist and your legs thrown over the junction where his biceps and forearms meet. He’s making sure the flat of his tongue reaches deep between you before flicking over your clit and pressing his lips for wet and open-mouthed kisses - borderline making out and holding your body still against the mattress. Your head’s empty, eyes closed with fingers gripping into the pillows as Luke’s eyelashes brush over your skin so delicately it tickles and flushes excitement through you all over again. 

“Lu, fuck! Don’t stop.” You mewl, feeling his tongue slide though your folds again, in a languid rhythm, swirling around your clit as his lips lay warm against your pussy. 

You’re lost, floating in a euphoria of fervent stimulation from how he’s suckling and lapping up the arousal seeping out and blessing his taste buds, hips rutting into the mattress and giving him friction while he works you up. His grip tightens when you squirm, your hips jolting into his face and he suckles on your clit harshly, your mouth falling open to release high-pitched and airy gasps at the fluttering feeling in your stomach becomes intense and your core feeling as if there’s a pressure to it. Luke smiles against your skin, a low chuckle vibrating to your cunt and reverberates to your chest as his tongue stripes flat through your sopping folds again.

With your fingers threading through his curls, you tug and whimper his name in a mantra, your hand following the dipping of his head and the sounds of kisses fight the sounds of your mewls Luke’s drawing from you as he plays with your bundle of nerves and kneads at your waist, gliding his hands along the shape leaving a blooming desire in their wake. 

“Keep making those pretty sounds f’me, angel.” He mumbles, lips grazing over your clit with little sparks of incitement making your hips jolt and moans slip out into his room before he lowers himself back in. 

He’s taking his time, his sweet time and making the moment last as long as he can. His suckling’s holding no greed or desperation, treating your cunt as if he were kissing your lips with pleasurable licks that savour the way you taste, treasuring it as you’re the only woman he wants and needs. He moans deeply, his stomach flipping and cock throbbing when your fingers pull his hair tight, loose and staggering whimpers emitting from your chest freely as you let yourself go, letting him hear every ounce of ecstasy that’s surging through you as you screw your eyes shut. 

“So good, fuck, so good.” You cry out, breath stuttering as his tongue pokes and teases over your hole, flicking the tip of his tongue over the rim before licking in a teasingly slow rhythm through your cunt again.

You’re gasping for air, the pleasure sending you into overdrive and tears brimming your eyes, body almost feeling limp from how he’s been tormenting your poor, sensitive clit for such a long time - so much so your fingers lose their hold in his hair. Luke chuckles, the sound of a wet smack chiming as his lips pull away from your glistening clit, apologising for his pussydrunk intoxication with soft kisses along your inner thighs, each press to your skin warm and trailing to your stomach until he finally peers up at you with his wide and glassy eyes.

[quinniferhughesenthusiast]

happy pride month babes! i love y'all so much and i'm so proud of you❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

[quinniferhughesenthusiast]

I’m loving the new season of love island

LOVE ACE AND BELLEDASHA AND CHELLEY AND OLANDRIA

[quinniferhughesenthusiast]

How it feels to read a really good fic and find the author has dozens more like it 

[quinniferhughesenthusiast]

thank you @ruinix for the tag!

"let pinterest describe you to its best abilitys and share how accurate you believe it is!! use the first picture that pops up!!"

aesthetic, character, me

the first is very much my summer/spring aesthetic, I love simplicity and pretty things but I also love cold weather and fall. I do wear my emotions on my face and can’t hide what I’m thinking so I’ll say that expression on lilo is true to me. I’m not brunette but I do like driving with the windows down and like to think of myself as somewhat laidback so sure, that’s kinda like me lol.

no pressure tags: @zzbubblegumbitchzz @star2fishmeg and anyone that wants to participate, use this as your tag!

[quinniferhughesenthusiast]

thank you for the tag @ruinix and @zzbubblegumbitchzz

"you just got a kind of shitty old car and it doesn’t have bluetooth. you can only buy 7 CDs and you can’t repeat an artist. what are you getting?"

my music taste is incredibly basic but usually I listen to playlists that are vibes based and don’t really go for whole albums :/ there’s also two albums on here that have been mainstays since high school, one from elementary

Stick Season (Forever) - Noah Kahan

So Close to What - Tate McRae

Midnight Memories - One Direction

Sounds Good, Feels Good - 5 Seconds of Summer

Speak Now (Deluxe Edition) - Taylor Swift

Mamma Mia! The Movie Soundtack

Short ‘n Sweet - Sabrina Carpenter

so many people have already been tagged so anyone wanting to join please feel free to use this post as a tag, clearly I need some new music recs!

[quinniferhughesenthusiast]

loving this, if I’m gonna drink beer it’s gonna be from kicking it off quinn or having him spit it into my mouth

that’s an amazing idea, Nix!!

Beers and Kisses

Foreword: After you dared Quinn to shotgun a beer and discovering that he can actually do it, he makes you do the same.

Note: We’re picking off where we left off.  This is officially part 2, meaning Part 1 (500 words) is a MUST read for a full experience, but if you don't want to read it, then you are free to do so 🫡. This is still in reader's POV. <- Previous (Part 1: Beers and Dares)

TW/CW: 18+ MDNI, Smut, Alcohol Consumption (heavy on this), Unprotected Sex (protection, sillies), Drunk sex (not really but they’re tipsy for sure), Semi-Public sex, Praise Kink

Word: 2645 words | Masterlist

Your nerves are on fire because Quinn taunted you. It’s supposed to be you who’ll do that to him. Well, you didn’t even taunt him. You just made him do it with a small bribe, your puppy eyes, which you know he likes. So, taunting you is annoying. Extremely.

“I bet you can’t,” he fucking said with that hot and beautiful smirk of his. If he’s going to taunt you, he should not look hot. The audacity.

Now, you feel his eyes following you while you stomp your way to the fridge. Shivers run down your spine from heavy and burning attention.

Peeking over your shoulder, you find him still leaning on the railing, but now his back is towards it and with his arms crossed over his chest. His chin is tipped down. His hair moves with the slight gust of wind. The lights you’ve placed on the balcony—actually, Quinn set them up for you—casts a warm glow on his skin, creating shadows that only emphasizes his features. Like his cheekbones, his jaw, the muscles on his neck, and his chest.

You can barely see the shine of beer trail that he still hasn’t wiped away, but you see it and it’s trouble. Why is he not wiping it away? If he won’t, you’ll clean it for him with your tongue—

Then he licks his plump bottom lip.

Wow.

Your head is a mess, short-circuiting the moment he grins, one corner of his lips slightly higher than the other. Such a devastating smile.

What are you doing again?

Oh yes, beer.

You huff, exaggeratedly rolling your eyes—making sure he sees it—before you turn away to get the damn beer. You hear his laugh. Despite being annoyed with him, you smile. You love his laugh. It’s one of the pure things you have ever heard.

It feels good to make him laugh.

It takes all of you not to look back. You’ll have to brave his teasing if you do. You can’t do that. You’re proving a point. Snatching the remaining three cans, which are yours that you keep neglecting to drink. You don’t necessarily like beer. You just bought a six pack one time, and it has been sitting for quite a while. Plus, Quinn doesn’t technically drink anymore, but he does from time to time, especially if you offer him to. Every time. He accepts what you offer, making your heart flutter in your chest. He just effortlessly makes you fall in love with him more and more.

You rush to the balcony, only to pause at the threshold, because Quinn is rolling his sleeves, exposing his hairy and lean forearms. Seriously, does he want you to jump him?

“What are you doing?” you ask in a panic.

“The wind feels nice.” His raspy voice sounds lower. Then he undoes the second button of his shirt, exposing more of his pale skin and his chest. Then another. Holy shit.

Your lips part as you long to touch him. Your legs feel like jelly. Your hands are shaking, so you set the cans down on a table. Biting your lip, you try to control your breathing.

He tilts his head a tad, looking at your eyes, down your lips, then back up. How can somebody be so breathtaking? His eyes look at the beer. A small and deep chuckle escapes him, sounding like a lure to your soul.

He says, “That’s cute. You got extra in case you fail?”

He is fucking with you. Isn’t he? But you don’t care anymore. He can tease you all he wants, and you’ll take it. You’ve been taking anything he gives you, especially in bed or the counter or—

Quinn dangles his key over your head. He’s so close that he might be in the inevitable splash zone, because sure, you’ll prove him wrong. You do know how shotgun a beer, but you’re not great with it. Not at all. Maybe you should’ve just made him flip a water bottle instead.

“What are you waiting for, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. Fucking hell.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you offer him your palm. He’s smiling again. Both lips and eyes turn into crescents. Softly, he places his keys on your hand, deliberately touching the skin of your palm. Then he traces his fingers to your wrist, up your forearm, your shoulders. He gives you a firm squeeze before he slides them down the column of your back. He, then, steps back like he didn’t just ignite your blood.

So, you huff. Your cheeks burn as much as your whole body. It’s all because of Quinn. It’s always him.

Taking a deep breath, your hands shaking, you punch a hole into the can. The beer splashes your face and shirt before you take it up your lips. Your attempt is so clumsy compared to Quinn’s, but you do your best. You gulp the bittersweet carbonated liquid without looking at Quinn, because you will choke if you do.

Probably halfway through the can, he crowds you, gripping your hips. That made you look at him. Your mouth fills up as you forget to swallow. How can you when his thumbs slip under your shirt? He pulls you in with an effortless tug, reminding you of his strength, not minding the spilling liquid.

He’s hard. So fucking hard.

And you’re drenching your panties.

Fuck.

Gosh, you hate beer—

Then everything happens all at once.

He fluidly takes over, drinking the beer for you. Once more, you are mesmerized with him. You only remember to swallow the beer in your mouth when his hand reaches your bra. You shiver, feeling so weak. You pant as beer slides down his throat again. You have enough. No more just watching.

You lick the trail; your soft and wet tongue catches the drips.

The feel of his skin, of his Adam’s apple as he gulps, of the rumble when he groans is divine.

You moan at the taste of Quinn mixing with the beer, at his scent, at his short nails scratching softly on your spine like he’s encouraging you to take and do more. And more.  

So you do.

You lick up his chin, shuddering at the feel of his scruff on your tongue. You’re directly catching everything he spills and it’s turning you on. Your pussy aches. This isn’t enough. You want more. More of his taste with the fucking beer.

Maybe you like beer after all.

When he finishes the can, he drops it and stares at you, panting, but you’re already there. You lick along the seam of lips. You whine at how soft they are—making him use a lip mask and lip balms have taken fruit. The taste of him. It’s all Quinn. He’s letting you do this and it’s doing it for you. You’re so turned on. When you finally kiss him, he instantly reciprocates. His tongue moves with yours, tasting you too.

Oh. You love him so much that it hurts.

Deep, deep inside.

You whimper, conveying your need. You blindly reach for another can. “More?”

He hums into your lips, his free hand finding your cheek first before taking the can. He gives you one last kiss on the lips. “You drink it first,” he bargains, backing you up until you reach the railings, one leg pushing between yours. “Just like the last.”

“Okay,” you breathlessly say, nodding.

“I’ll hold it.”

“Sure, Q.” You do as he says. Using his key again, creating a mess between you two, he holds the can to your lips, and you drink. Your eyes water. Frustration builds. It’s not the same.

Until Quinn starts to shower you the same treatment you’ve done to him.

His tongue creates a trail of fire that shoots straight to your pussy. You are burning. You ache. Every lick. Every nip. Your head swims from his touch and the beer. You feel light and so fucking horny. You grind against his thigh.

That’s all it takes to turn the bittersweet liquid taste like the sweetest thing in the whole world.

“Tastes so fucking good, my Love, my sweet girl,” he praises. He takes the beer to his lips and drinks but not really.  He’s basically letting the beer fall down the corner of his lips. His eyes are telling you, “All for you.”

Grabbing onto his shoulders, you feast on his skin. Maybe you can just drink anything from his skin. Will Quinn let you do that? He’s already doing it with beer. Can you ask for more—

He tugs you back by your hair, his fingers tangling on the roots. What the fuck!

“Quinn,” you whine. “That’s so mean.”

His lips smirk as he draws the last mouthful of beer. The can hits the floor in a clank. To cope, you stare at his throat, wishing to lick it when he gulps, but he doesn’t. He grabs the back of your neck, making you gasp, as he smashes your lips together, transferring the beer to your mouth.

He just did that.

He did.

Quinn Hughes just made you drink from his mouth.

You love every second of it.

“Swallow it. That’s it. That’s my good girl,” he breathes out, making you squeeze your legs and trapping his. “How’s that?” he asks, nipping your lips, as you stare dumbly at him. His hand frees your hair and slides into your pants, into your panties. He groans, sliding his finger along your slick pussy. “So wet.”

“We’re outside,” you say while you grind shamelessly into his touch, unbuttoning his shirt until it’s fully open. You chase after every stroke. He feels so good. You can feel your arousal dripping down your cunt. You dig your nails into his waist. “You’re so hot.”

“Hmm,” he hums. “You’re hot.” His finger teases your pussy, dipping and stretching you. Both of you groan when you squeeze around his fingers. “Wanna fuck you right here.”

“Then do it.”

His pupils almost swallow his irises. The rumble of a growl escapes his throat. The next thing you know is both of your pants are off. One of your legs is over his hip. After he slaps his cock against your aching clit, he sinks into your pussy so smoothly, so easily. The stretch of him makes you roll your eyes, moaning so loudly.

None of you seem to care about the high drop from the balcony—you trust him. Or about the possibility of being seen—they better watch or close their fucking eyes.

None of those matters.

Not when he’s fucking you with a fucked-out expression that’s just for you.

“I love you,” Quinn moan, kissing you as deeply as his thrusts. “You feel divine, my Love.”

Your name spills his lips over and over again. You cling onto his shoulders, your hips moving in a circle that had you both quivering in need, each of your thrust turning choppy and more desperate. His hand goes under your thigh and lifts it so both of your legs are wrapped around him, so you’re all so fucking spread, your arousal drips around his cock, making the lewd sounds of skin slapping louder and louder.

“Quinn,” you whine, biting down on his lip.  You sob, “Faster. More. Please. I’m so close. I need to come.”

“I know,” he consoles, changing up the angle of his thrust, perfectly hitting your sensitive spot. “I have you.”

“Mmfuck,” you pant. Your orgasm builds and builds, your thighs quivering and shaking around him. You seek support using his skin, marking his back with your scratches. You suck and kiss and lick a spot just underneath his jaw, totally marking him as your own.  “Please, please.”

“Just let go, my Love.” His hand slides between you two and finds your clit. “Come for me.”

He gives it a firm flick and you’re gone. You walls shakes and squeezes around him, your eyes rolling up, as he rides out your orgasm. Fuck, he truly knows how to work you.

When his lips capture yours, his cock still pounding and grinding in that sensitive spot that has every nerve in your body into a haywire. You desperately grip him, too scared at how much higher your pleasure is climbing. You want to run away but you also don’t. You want him to continue until you’re fucked dumb. Like always.

Quinn is saying something but you can’t focus. You feel like you are breaking piece by piece while at the same time being built. It feels like your heart will explode as the pressure deep inside your cunt exponentially increases. You’re fucking losing it.

His hand tips your chin up, forcing you to look at him. He asks, voice dropping further, “Where do you want me?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions, Quinn,”you grit.

Again, he smirks. He flicks your clit again, making you whimper. “Still so bratty. I know you’re going to come again. It would be bad for you when I stop.”

“No, Q.” You shake your head, pleading against his skin. He chuckles which makes you desperate for his cum. You can feel his cock throb. You know he’s pulling himself back to make you go insane. He always does that. “Inside. I want your cum in my pussy. You said, you have me. Please.”

He doesn’t say anything and only kisses you until you come so hard that you are gushing, making a total mess, until he comes and paints your walls with his hot cum. Every spurt is making you sigh into his mouth before he decides to press gentle kisses all over your face, licking a few beads of sweat on your skin. You preen, leaning all your weight against him.

Your body feels so satiated with his cock still seated inside you, not letting his cum to spill.

Your soul feels so warm and fuzzy for touch of his lips.

Your heart beats with his. Thud. Thud. Thud.

“Do you want to finish the last beer?” He asks so quietly as he lifts you.

You shake your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He takes you and lies you down on the sofa. You hiss as he slides out, his cum dripping from your sensitive entrance, down your other hole, down the sofa. Fuck, you’re going to stain the sofa. Again. Whatever. You’ll make him clean it. It’s his mess.

You watch him put his full attention on your pussy, watch him lick his lips, watch him grip his cock as it twitches. You realize how flush his cheeks are. Not just from fucking you. It’s also from the beer. You know, because that’s a drunken blush. Is he drunk? It can’t be.

“Are you drunk?” You ask, lifting your shirt up so he sees all of you.

His light eyes shoot straight to yours. He lets a second pass before he says, “No.” He for sure is. “Just a bit.”He frowns deep in his thoughts, his eyes getting drawn to your breasts. “Are you?”

“No,” you repeat, smiling and biting your lower lip, “Just a bit.”

Quinn laughs which makes you giggle. You spend a couple of minutes just laughing at your current state. A bit tipsy. Extremely fucked. The thought of it makes you laugh harder. No way, you two just got drunk on what one full can for him plus two beers shared between you. No way.

“This is fun,” he chuckles, climbing over you, slipping his cock in your pussy.

“Quinn. I’m sensitive.” You huff, shivering when he slides his hands under you so he can unclasp your bra.

He helps you out of your shirt so he can cuddle you like that.

“I know…let’s just stay like this,” he says in a silent whisper. “Promise.”

You know that’s a fucking lie.

<- Previous (Part 1: Beers and Dares)

[quinniferhughesenthusiast]

better than revenge (slut shaming version)

SHES BETTER KNOWN FOR THE THINGS THAT SHE DOES ON THE MATTRESS

need to know which stolen version everyone blasted first I jumped straight in my car and put state of grace on full volume lmao

[quinniferhughesenthusiast]

fuck me he is such a whore and I support him for it

Off Zeason | Trevor Zegras

[quinniferhughesenthusiast]

Hey how's the ovulation going

im a danger to myself and others

[quinniferhughesenthusiast]

literally crying reading these, I must be ovulating and emotional or something

man I want babies with quinn because beaquinn with babies is just so perfect

parent!beaquinn masterlist

luke charles hughes weight: 7 lbs, 10 oz. height: 21 inches tall sex: M birthdate and time: march 1, 2031; 11:38 P.M.

patrick jack hughes baby #2 weight: 7lbs, 3 oz. height: 19.5 inches tall sex: M birthdate and time: april 6, 2033; 12:06 P.M.

caleb earl hughes weight: 9lbs, 14 oz. height: 21 inches tall sex: M birthdate and time: july 9, 2034; 2:10 A.M.

daphne grace hughes weight: 6 lbs, 12 oz. height: 18 inches tall sex: F birthdate and time: february 21, 2036; 8:22 P.M.

creating 2038's christmas card: june 25, 2037; topsail beach, annual hughes family vacation

[quinniferhughesenthusiast]

they look like someone is holding them at gunpoint to film this… I would like to start a petition that hockey players can’t do ads anymore because it is so uncomfortable to watch them like this

🧍🏻‍♂️🧍🏻‍♂️🔫 <- LITERALLY THEM

can i come over and stare at u like this