tw/cw: starts angsty, set after bruins vs wild game, long distance, mentions of break up, but quinn is soft and makes you laugh, rekindled love, mentions of the big trade
part 2 to leaving, couldn't help myself. starts out sad and then becomes a little silly because I like happy moments, sorry. gifs from @kawhh <3
wc: 1,326
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The post-game interview had just ended on your screen. You couldn’t help but still watch the game. After the sudden trade, Quinn had left Vancouver. Now, he was in Minnesota and he had won with the team there. You couldn’t help but notice one thing, though.
Games with the Canucks seemed to continue taking a toll on Quinn. You noticed that when he came home, his body was heavy as he sat beside you in the car. You didn’t even need to ask him to know that he was beating himself up over it. What felt even worse, though, was that you had forced the issue. This exact issue.
You still lived in Vancouver. You weren’t sure you were ready to leave home just yet. However, only a single day had passed. The world around you seemed quieter, almost empty without Quinn’s presence. You didn’t cry; you knew a trade was coming. What caught you off guard was the suddenness and the team that came up. The Minnesota Wild hadn’t been on many people’s radars. So, seeing Quinn leave for Minnesota, you weren’t sure how to feel exactly. Even as your chest felt tight, you were more confused than anything.
You stayed home tonight, you weren’t sure you could make it through a moment around another person. You watched the game in one of Quinn’s jerseys. It felt weird still wearing a Canucks jersey, although the team had grown on you. You had only grown fond of them through your boyfriend. However, you wanted to support him, even as he lived now far away from you.
Tapping away at your phone, your fingers worked faster than your brain. Without thinking, you lifted the phone to your ear, calling Quinn without hesitation. You needed to hear his voice; you wanted to tell him how happy you were for him.
Two rings and he picked up, a soft rustle on his end before you finally heard him speak. “Hey, you called.” There was surprise in his tone, even with his voice still soft. You couldn’t help but smile, knowing that he was still in the locker room. He always kept his voice low so the guys wouldn’t pick up on every word. Even with a new team, Quinn wouldn’t change.
“I watched your game,” you finally stated, biting your lip as you looked down at the jersey. His number, both from Canucks and for his new team. You were grateful for that part. “You did amazing. I didn’t think you remembered how to smile,” you teased, although your voice sounded somewhat sad. You couldn’t help but think that you should be there to celebrate him. He had not only made his Wild debut but had scored a goal. You should be there celebrating with him.
Quinn huffed out a soft laugh. You could practically see him scratch at the back of his neck. He was so predictable. “What can I say, feels good to win.” You could hear the pride in his voice. Winning was so important for Quinn. You saw how much he wanted to win, even as he was met with loss after loss. The man you were hearing over the phone was actually having fun playing hockey again.
There was silence between you two. You could hear the soft breath of Quinn as you picked at the logo on your chest. It was comforting, almost as if he were lying right beside you again. You wish he were. Your place felt cold without him.
Quinn cleared his throat, pulling you from your thoughts. “Princess,” he used that pet name, that same one that would always make you smile. The one that would pull you out of your head and away from the heaviness that came with being with him. However, now, it was just a reminder that you weren’t there with him. You had let the trade rumors get to you. You had told Quinn you couldn’t move. Not yet.
Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you took a deep breath. “You look happy.” You didn’t dare say the last of the words on your mind. You look happier without me. You knew it wasn’t you, yet you couldn’t help it. The way he smiled in Minnesota looked so different than the smiles he had in Vancouver.
Quinn was quiet on his end, almost as if he were processing your words. Then, he spoke, just as softly as before. “I miss you, though. You’d make this perfect,” he admitted, causing a choked sob to escape you.
You rushed to cover your mouth, not meaning to let Quinn in on your tears. When had you started crying? “S-Sorry, I’m just so happy for you,” you tried to cover up, not wanting him to worry. However, it didn’t matter what you said. You could practically hear his worry through the phone.
Soft rustling could be heard from his end. It was another moment before Quinn spoke again. “I wish I could kiss you right now,” he whispered, words even quieter than before. “Princess, you know I still love you.” It wasn’t just a reminder, it was a promise. Even barely making it six months together, the only thing that had stopped the two of you was the sudden distance. “Look, I know it’s only half past six over there,” he pulled you back in to focus on him. He was so good at keeping your focus. “Can I call you over breakfast?”
You brushed at your eyes, wiping away the tears that had fallen. “So we can talk about it over food again?” You asked, swallowing down another wave of emotions. “Isn’t that how we called this off before?”
Quinn hummed softly on his end. You wished you had bit your tongue, wished you had kept it down. However, he didn’t seem mad as he spoke. “I don’t get to talk to the person I love? I want to share my win with you, too.” There was a pause, almost as if he could hear your smile tugging at your lips through the phone. “Plus, I have to tell you what really happened on the flight over, don’t I?”
That had you chuckling softly, bringing the hem of his jersey to your lips. “You better not blame Jack. He’s still broken.” How Quinn got you feeling so easy again was beyond you. However, you were happy, even with him two hours ahead of you. “I’ll call Mrs. Hughes too if I have to, don’t tempt me, Quintin.”
Quinn chuckled, louder than before. The two of you fell so easily back into old habits. “Of course. She’ll be happy to complain about everything in my place.” He groaned softly at that thought. You could practically see him running a hand over his face. “You know, she may have cleaned out your drawer, too.”
You shrugged, leaning back into the couch with a soft smile on your lips. “I think it’d be fun to tell her that the strawberry pound cake body spray is yours. Don’t you agree?”
Quinn groaned even louder, now completely forgetting to be quiet in the locker room. Though he must have gotten some looks because when he spoke again, his voice had grown soft again. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
You couldn’t help but scrunch your nose, giggling softly. “Go home, babe. We have breakfast to talk.”
It took the two of you some time before you both finally hung up, each of you wanting the last I love you. You never knew what sorcery Quinn had, but it never ceased to amaze you how easily he had you smiling. Even in your short time together, he knew you so well. Moments ago, you had thought you would simply cry yourself to sleep. However, you were now making your way to bed. Wearing Quinn’s jersey, you felt loved. You still felt at home. He was just a phone call away.
I remembered this was in my drafts. I didn’t get around to 2/3 of the writing sprints with them but will hopefully tonight in your honor! In the meantime I hope you enjoy 🤍
Dark from thought i wanted love ('til you showed me what it was);
It was dark out when Jamie woke next. He was in his bedroom, and it took him a while to realize how he’d gotten there before he remembered the hospital, his Dad bringing him home. The clock read 21:04. Everything earlier was a blur, he couldn’t remember what time they got home from the hospital or how long they were there. Jamie shifted in bed and his body tensed in pain at his ribs and ankle.
Jamie held his head in his hands, willing himself to remember what happened. Was he mugged? Or was this his father? He didn’t think his father would go after his legs, after all, Jamie’s legs were James’ money train, but it was the off-season. Or it was an accident. Or maybe, just maybe, his father had changed. Jamie wanted nothing more than that to be the case.
588 new words added!
Swallow from we inherit the sins, we inherit the flames:
“I’m sorry, too, Jamie,” she said, and Jamie’s eyes snapped up to her face as he searched for answers to her condolences.
“About your father,” Rebecca watched as his eyebrows knit together in an unspoken question. “I should’ve talked to you before. After Wembley.”
Confusion gave way to something else, something she couldn’t place. Embarrassment? Hurt? Anger? He swallowed hard and his face took on a carefully constructed calm.
“Oh yeah, I’m sorry, Ms Welton. I shouldn’t have done that. My Dad…our relationship is, uh, not the best,” Jamie said, looking down at his hands.
Hear from the previously published being updated prompt:
Roy wasted no time pulling on his pants and boots, the phone lying nearby on speakerphone in case there was more to hear. Roy eyed it like a bomb, waiting for it to explode at any moment. Roy hoped to hear a slamming door, to hear Jamie come back to the phone and relay he was shaken but safe, the person Jamie was yelling at on the other side of a locked and alarmed door. His anxiety grew with every second of silence, but the noise that greeted him eventually made Roy wish for the previous quiet.
tw/cw: angst, talk of trade rumors, somewhat newish relationship, tension in the car, trying not to cry, self-doubt, quinn assuming you'll just move with him
Started this during the game tonight and it kinda just took over. Hope you're all in pain with me <3 gifs from @ruinix
wc: 1,123
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You and Quinn hadn’t been together long. The two of you had only been dating since the off-season. Now, with trades seemingly in the very near future, you felt as if your relationship was on the line. With the Canucks underperforming, you couldn’t help but worry about what Quinn wanted to do. Your boyfriend, one of, if not the best defenseman in the league, deserved better than the worst team in the league.
You found yourself curling up in the passenger seat of Quinn’s car. After the loss against the Red Wings, you weren’t sure how to handle the tension in the vehicle. Play had been better, but it still wasn’t enough. Your boyfriend was gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white. The combination of the game’s outcome, followed by the postgame, grated on him. You weren’t sure how to break the tension from him, not even focusing on the tension coming from yourself.
As Quinn rolled to a stop at a red light, he finally looked over at you. Your knees were pulled up to your chest, your head turned to look out at the dark city of Vancouver. He slowly brought his hand across the center console, reaching for yours. Once he held your hand, he suddenly had your full attention. The look you gave him had his brows furrowing in concern.
When you noticed his change, your eyes instantly fell again. You still allowed Quinn to keep your hand, not wanting to hurt his feelings by pulling away. He didn’t deserve that. Your thoughts weren’t because of him. Well, not exactly, at least. They weren’t his fault. You were just overreacting, anyway; you were sure of it.
“Princess,” Quinn’s voice rang clear in your ears. Despite his hope that you’d look at him, you didn’t lift your gaze. “Talk to me, please?” He asked, voice filled with worry. The game didn’t matter, not when something was clearly bothering you.
Silence filled the car again as you hesitated in answering. You didn’t want to bother your boyfriend with your stupid thoughts, your silly worries. However, you also knew that Quinn would not let it go until you finally admitted it to him. He was worried, like the amazing boyfriend he was. Despite his night, his biggest worry was you.
Finally, you took a deep, shaky breath. The car was back in motion, the city rolling by in the window. Still, your focus was far away, far from the city lights, far from the warmth that filled your palm as Quinn held onto you. “I see the rumors, too,” you finally whispered, not daring to look away from the window. The hand in yours squeezed gently, a reminder that he was listening. “What’ll happen if you leave?” You asked, sniffling softly as you tried to hold back the tears. “What’ll happen to us?”
Quinn’s eyes softened as he looked out at the road before him. He had also heard about the rumors himself; every interview seemed to mention it now. The idea of being traded was hard on him. However, he had no idea how hard it would be on you. With your relationship still so new, he should have known. Yet, it never crossed his mind until this very moment.
Quinn tightened his grip on your hand, trying to offer you some reassurance. “If they trade me now, they’ll have to cover my cost to move. Including my family, they’d help cover-”
“I’m not family.” Your words effectively stopped Quinn. You had turned to him, eyes filled with tears you dared not let fall. “We haven’t even been together a whole year. Barely six months, I wouldn’t be considered family.”
You weren’t wrong. The two of you hadn’t had your first anniversary, and Quinn was already planning to have you move across the country with him. Not to mention, he was expecting you to be okay with that. He wasn’t thinking about what you would be leaving behind. He had only thought of the possibilities for himself. He had forgotten about you in the thick of it all.
Taking his silence as a reason to continue, you pulled your hand away from his. As you wrapped yourself in your arms, you took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can move, not like that. Not so soon.” You paused, glancing at Quinn as he pulled into the driveway. His hands fell into his lap, the look of hurt obvious on his face. Still, you couldn’t stop the words from falling from your lips. “I love you, but I don’t know if I can move so soon.”
Quinn was afraid to look at you in this moment. Even after turning off the car, he felt frozen in his seat. What was he meant to say? If he denied your worries, he would only be an asshole. Your feelings were valid; you had every right to want to go slow. He shouldn’t have rushed you to think of moving in with him. Not to mention, leaving your life behind. His life was a mix of being home and being out on the road. However, yours was here in Vancouver. You had deep roots here. He couldn’t rip that away from you like this.
Neither one of you spoke for a long moment. Quinn kept his gaze on his hands as they rested on his lap. You examined him from your place in the passenger seat. Neither one of you knew what to say, not in this moment. With everything weighing on both of you, how were you both meant to move on from this? Quinn not only had you but a whole team relying on him. Yet, neither one seemed to be going in the right direction. He should have known better. He should have just kept to himself. He shouldn’t have asked you out.
The negative thoughts disappeared as Quinn felt your hand over his. He blinked, noticing that his hands had balled into fists over his thighs. Yours looked so dainty over his, the softest of touches on his skin. Slowly, his eyes followed your arm to your eyes. When they met yours, he couldn’t help but let out a long, shaky breath. You weren’t running; you were still here with him.
Slowly, you threaded your fingers through his, watching the tension slowly start to fall from his shoulders. “Let’s talk about it in the morning,” you finally broke the silence, biting your lip softly. “You’re tired, we both are. We’ll talk about it over breakfast.”
Quinn nodded slowly, squeezing your hand in his. He wasn’t sure who the reassurance was for anymore. All he knew was that he couldn’t let go of you. “Of course, princess.”
tw/cw: kissing, it's innocent kinda, suggestive af at the end, a bit suggestive with how needy matt is for you
I've had this one in my doc for some time because I decided it's not my favorite. Also because it's been a while, I cannot find the tiktok that I got this idea from. Still, hope you enjoy. Giving this as a holdover since I'll actually be in NY soon <3
wc: 788
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It was meant to be just a fun little game between the two of you. You had placed your phone in front of the two of you as you both sat at the foot of the bed. Matt kept trying to wrap his arms around you. He just wanted to have you in his lap, your smaller body perfect for him to hold onto at all times. However, you kept swatting at his hands, giggling as you stayed right beside him.
You had seen a couple on TikTok play this game. The two of you were meant to pick a spot on your body while the other wasn’t looking, claiming it as the poisoned spot on your body. Then, taking turns, you would press a kiss to different parts of one another. It was meant to be innocent, even if Matt kept pouting without you in his arms.
You started first, making Matt cover his eyes. You teased him gently, tracing your nails over his thigh. Watching the muscle beneath your fingertips jump, you giggled, quickly bringing your finger to your nose so the camera could catch it. Once you let your hand fall again, you cooed softly. “Okay,” you stated, watching your boyfriend’s hands instantly fall from his face. “Your turn.”
You covered your eyes with both hands. However, you expected Matt to pull some kind of trick on you. Just as you predicted, his fingers brushed over your neck, tickling ever so softly. You giggled, shaking your head but still covering your eyes. He snickered with you, finding joy in the noises you made, even outside of anything sexual.
It didn’t take long for Matt’s arm to wrap around your waist. “Okay, baby,” he hummed. When you lowered your hands, you were met with his bright grin. “So am I getting kisses first?” He asked, giddy at the idea of receiving your affection.
You couldn’t help but giggle as you brought a finger beneath his chin. With the soft guidance, you brought him closer, pressing a kiss to his nose. You pulled away slowly, his grin replaced with a soft pout. “Safe,” he grumbled, watching as your eyes seemed to shimmer with delight.
Next, it was Matt’s turn. His fingers splayed across your cheeks as he grabbed your face as gently as possible. He tilted your head down, lips brushing over your forehead in a gentle peck. He pulled away, guiding your face to look up at him. Your nod made him smile — a small victory. “Safe.”
It was innocent, luckily. The two of you were just kissing one another. With his hands on your cheeks, you brought your own over his. Holding them in place, you turned your head, lips brushing over his palm. You could see in the corner of your eye how his breath stuttered, his gaze longing as he felt your lips on him. He knew you were recording this, though. Swallowing down the soft whine that threatened to escape him, Matt nodded, confirming that you were safe.
Brushing his thumbs over your cheeks, Matt leaned forward. Your eyes fluttered, gazing at his lips as they moved closer again, how he wished to press his lips everywhere on your body. He wanted to show you just how much he appreciated you. However, he held back. He could practically feel how proud you were by your touch on his hands. However, that pride seemed to switch suddenly as his lips pressed to the tip of your nose.
Pulling away, he looked at you with wide eyes as you dug your teeth into your lower lip. Pouting, he huffed softly. You didn’t even have to tell him. He knew he had lost, picking where you had placed your poisoned kiss at the beginning of this little game.
Matt seemed to melt into you, falling into your arms with a soft groan. You erupted into giggles, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Sorry, babe,” you hummed, even though you didn’t sound at all sorry. “Where did you pick?” You then asked, feeling as he brushed his nose over your shoulder. As he melted further into you, though, you could feel the smirk that stretched over his face.
Knowing that the camera wouldn’t catch what he was saying, Matt whispered into your ear. “Was hopeful you’d kiss my dick,” he teased, snickering when you smacked at his back in retaliation.
Your face burned, beet red at the admission. You’d have to remember later to trim this part of the video before posting it. However, you’d keep this. No matter how crude he may have been, you had enjoyed this game with Matt. “Matthew Rempe, next time we play, you are not allowed to do that.”
tw/cw: 18+, MDNI, smut, vampire!reader, dark!nico, vampire hunter!nico, dom!nico, blood, feeding, absolutely thirsting for his thighs, literally, being turned on by feeding
Doubling this up to be another extra fic for my kinktober AND for Halloween, absolutely out here thirsting over Nico's thighs. When I'm not worried about finishing so many fics, I want to come back to this with a pt.2
wc: 1,318
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You were starving. How long had you been kept down here? You had lost track of time. There was a soft scent of garlic whenever you got closer to the door. You were sure the hunter knew that. You’d been caught, and you had no one to blame but yourself.
You had been hunting for your next meal, swindling men for free drinks here and there at the bar. You had set your sights on a tall brunet who tucked himself into the corner. You couldn’t help but introduce yourself, making the first move. You were pressed into his side, hands dragging over thick, solid thighs as you were rewarded with his name.
The memory came and went just like that. Nico had kept you down here for far too long. The burn in your throat hurt like hell. You wanted nothing more than to sink your teeth into anything. Even a rat would do. However, the cellar you were trapped within held no such vermin.
Only you.
The sound of the door had you instantly moving back into the corner. The shadow that was cast into the room had you hissing, fangs bared in a weak form of defense. There was nothing you could do if the figure decided to attack you. Your body felt like nothing but a feather from how empty you were.
Still, the deep rumble of a chuckle filled your ears. He was laughing at your misfortune. Stepping further into the room, you were forced to meet the dark brown eyes of the hunter who had captured you. He looked massive as you sat furled up on your knees. You were no longer the intimidating being in this room. Nico had full control.
The loud scratch of a chair moved across the floor; the sound had you flinching. Your hands came up to cover your sensitive ears. With your hunger, your senses are heightened. You need them to hunt, your body adapting in its suffering. As Nico moved to sit directly in front of you, though, you had no fight left in you. His smell filled your nose, encasing your entire being in that scent you knew so well.
Blood, human blood.
Your teeth, your fangs, dug into your lip. You may have been hungry, but you didn’t want to sink your teeth into the hunter. Nico seemed to take that as defiance, his hand grabbing your throat. His grip was strong, digging into your cold flesh. You winced, clutching at his wrist as you glared up at him. “What do you want from me? Why won’t you just kill me?”
Nico raised an eyebrow at that. You weren’t wrong, to be fair. Most hunters wouldn’t have thought twice about slaughtering you right outside of that bar. He had gone through the trouble of taking you home, trapping you within this cellar. What was his reason? Maybe it was the way you had been so quick to give up your defenses in search of a man, watching you flaunt in the bar. All those men, and yet you stayed there. Any one of them would have been happy to go home with you. It was him that you had chosen. Maybe he was savoring that, the feeling that you had picked him.
Taking his time examining you, Nico seemed to contemplate deeply on his next words. What fell from his lips had you staring at him with wide eyes, surprised by his proposal.
“Are you hungry?”
That was the stupidest question the hunter could have asked. Of course, you were hungry. What was he getting at? You quickly narrowed your eyes at him, trying to hide your surprise. When you didn’t speak, Nico took that as an invitation to continue. “I can see it in your eyes, you can feed safely here.”
Shaking your head, you sneered at him. “Safely? You’ve got me locked in with garlic. Who am I meant to feed on?” You snapped, trying your best to ignore the strong scent of blood that continued to flood your senses. His blood was just right there. If you could just sink your teeth into his skin…
Your thoughts were interrupted by Nico moving in front of you. He still held onto your throat as he let his thighs spread wide. Once there was enough space, he pulled you forward again. The action had you bracing yourself on his thighs. The muscles seemed to vibrate beneath your touch, proving his strength with even the slightest of flexes. Despite that, though, you tried your damnedest to keep focused on his face. Now, being closer, you were brought closer to his bare skin, the damned hunter wearing shorts. You had to resist…
Your breath hitched as you felt a hand on the back of your head. Nico had removed the one around your throat, pushing you closer to his thigh as he leaned back. As your nose brushed against his skin, you could practically feel his blood pumping through his femoral artery. Your eyes rolled back, the scent sending your mind into heaven. Your stomach had taken over, though. Your mind, meanwhile, was wishing he had forced his cock down your throat instead. This was just embarrassing. You didn’t need this hunter to feed.
“Come on, schatzi,” he taunted, smirking down at you. “Take a bite.”
There was no stopping you in that moment. As if he had opened the flood gates, your fangs sank into his skin. Your stomach won out over your mind, your need to feed outweighing your embarrassment. His blood filled your mouth suddenly, moaning at the relief the fluid offered you. You leaned in closer, shifting on your knees to take as much as you could. As you savored your meal, you felt as Nico moved his other leg. Warmth touched your back, feeling as he settled his foot behind you. He was keeping you there.
You wanted to pull away, to ask why he was letting you do this. However, the hand behind your head was keeping you in place, too. You could do nothing but swallow. The first mouthful of blood had you moaning louder. You’d never felt this type of satisfaction before from feeding. You couldn’t help the shiver that ran down your spine as you took more and more heavy gulps. Your legs shifted beneath you, spreading as you felt heat in your very core. This was new to you. Never before had a feeding turned you on. Now, your body was searching for a different kind of relief.
You let your eyes fall shut as you tried to subtly ground against the floor beneath you. Nico was grunting softly above you, watching as you continued to feed from his thigh. You didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of knowing this was turning you on. You didn’t want him to know you were now trying to get off to his blood.
However, your luck didn’t seem to ever go your way when it came to Nico.
His heel kicked at your ass, stopping your movements. “You’re getting off on this?” He asked, his tone one of genuine surprise. However, as you lifted your lips off his thighs, looking up at him with glossy eyes, he smirked down at you. Blood dripped from your lips, falling and dripping off your chin. “You’re a mess, aren’t you, schatzi?”
You wanted to retaliate. You wanted to tell him that he was wrong. However, Nico stopped any words that threatened to escape by pushing his thumb into your mouth. You could only moan, your body hyper aware of the sudden intrusion. As you kept the digit in your mouth, sucking without needing to be asked, your eyes fell to his other hand. His other hand began pulling at the waistband of his shorts, taunting you. Teasing you.
tw/cw: 18+, MDNI, smut, sub!jack, degradation (m receiving), jerking off, use of pretty boy and jack hates it, needy jack, begging
So...better late than never, right? I know I'm behind on kinktober but I still like this idea a lot. Set back to Jack's first game back during preseason when he looked like he wasn't playing like himself.
wc: 1,677
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Your hands pressed his hips back against the kitchen counter. You were usually so gentle. If anything, it was usually Jack who had you on the counter, taking what he wanted after a game, good or bad. However, he could do nothing as your lips trailed over his pulse, his head falling back as his teeth dug into his lip.
The two of you had just gotten home after his first real game after his surgery. While it was only preseason, he wanted to show that he could do it all over again. He wasn’t just that pretty boy hockey player. He was a real player who was a force to be reckoned with. That wasn’t exactly how it seemed to go, though. As soon as he stepped off the ice, the team having won, your comment seemed to burn his ears.
You play like you’re scared.
It didn’t matter what term of endearment you followed it up with. He still couldn’t help but think about what you said. You thought he was scared? He wasn’t afraid; he was just playing the game. He had to look strong; he was Jack Hughes. He was the driving force for the Devils. When the two of you walked inside, though, he was instantly doubting those exact thoughts. He started to believe that you were right.
Normally, he would have lifted you into his arms as soon as you took off your shoes at the door. He didn’t, though. That had your brows furrowing, but you stayed quiet at first. It wasn’t exactly unlike him to think over the game again. He would always want to be better than he was in his prior games.
That’s when you knew you had to get him out of his head. As soon as the two of you made it to the kitchen, you cornered Jack. With his back against the counter, facing you, he had no other choice but to gaze into your eyes. Your noses brushed, his breath hitching softly. “You had a good game,” you tried to offer, hoping he would believe you. However, it didn’t take a genius to notice the look of doubt in his eyes.
Before Jack could even say anything, you brought a hand up, tangling your fingers in his hair. As you tugged him down with one hand, you brushed the other beneath his shirt. Your boyfriend expected a kiss, even a rough one. However, you tugged at his hair, stopping him just as your lips barely brushed. Why did you stop?
Your fingers traced patterns over his abdomen, causing his breath to stutter over your lips. “I gave you a compliment,” you whispered. Though no matter how soft your voice was, Jack heard you loud and clear. Your eyes fell from his eyes to his lips, watching as his teeth dug into his lower lip. You waited, waiting for him to say something, anything. He didn’t, though. He just continued to bite his lip, holding everything in. “You don’t have anything to say?” You asked, voice darker than before.
Jack knew he was fucked.
As soon as the switch was flipped, your fingers trailed from his stomach down to his waistband. He couldn’t even fight you off. He didn’t want to fight you off. Your fingers, soft against his skin, were leaving fiery trails everywhere they went. As your fingers fell lower, your lips followed a new path. Avoiding his own, you pressed soft kisses over his throat. Just like your fingers, it felt like his skin was burning beneath your lips.
You kept at it, soft kisses turning to light nips at his skin. Jack could do nothing but groan, your touch overwhelming his entire being. You were like a drug he could never kick. What was even more dangerous, though, was how rare this moment was. It was usually his lips on your neck, his teeth leaving marks. You had never complained, but in moments like this, Jack was more than happy to let you have your way with him.
Your fingers pushed his waistband down, pulling his boxers with it. You went to shift off the counter, wanting to make it easier for you to strip him. However, he could only yelp when you allowed the band of his boxers to snap back against his thighs. You had only pulled the offending fabric down just enough to expose him, your hands now wrapped around his length. He hissed, your teeth dragging over his jaw. “Who said you could move, baby?”
Your voice was smooth yet taunting. You always knew how to make his heart skip a beat. His words seemed to get caught in his throat, unable to speak as your thumb brushed over his tip. All that escaped Jack was a breathy moan.
Giggling at his struggle, you kept stroking his length. “What was that?” You taunted, squeezing slightly. Before he could even attempt to say a word, you kept going. “Never mind, you’re too scared to do anything. Aren’t you, pretty boy?”
That got to him. Jack hated being called that. He wasn’t just some pretty boy. He had earned his place; he had earned you. “N-No,” he tried to deny, despite how his hips bucked into your touch. “Not just some pretty boy,” he argued, biting his lip hard to avoid moaning. He couldn’t let you win with that. He was fine with you pressing him against the counter; he was fine with you calling him scared for how he played. However, that crossed the line.
Your hand didn’t stop even as you hummed softly. You seemed to contemplate his words, almost as if debating whether to use the term again. You leaned forward, pressing another kiss on your boyfriend’s neck. “No? You think you have any power to tell me what you are?”
Your words sent a shiver up Jack’s spine. You were right. Who was he to say what you could call him? You were rewarding him, after all. You could always just stop touching him. He couldn’t have that. The way your thumb brushed over his tip had him losing his mind. “I’m sorry,” he whimpered out, hoping to have some sympathy beneath your wrath.
“Sorry?” Your voice hissed out, causing your boyfriend to let his head fall back. With his gaze averted, he didn’t see the way you dragged your nails up his length. He yelped again, meeting your gaze. “If you’re so sorry, why do you play like you’re scared, huh?” Your head tilted, almost as if you were waiting for his response. However, Jack couldn’t even form words, not with your hand continuing to jerk him, his release approaching faster than he’d like to admit.
“If you aren’t some pretty boy, you should play better. Good players aren’t just good looks.” Jack wasn’t even sure where your confidence was coming from. Even worse, he wasn’t sure why he was so turned on by your treatment of him. Maybe it was because you would always praise him; he expected that from you. This? This was so different. His body just wanted your attention, even if you were mad. You were only looking at him.
His breathing was labored, unable to form any words. You couldn’t have that. You wanted to hear him. Jack should be able to tell you what he was if he was going to talk back. With your hand wrapped around his length, you squeezed at his base, causing him to whine at the lack of friction. You didn’t move, though. You didn’t even let him move his hips, holding him against the counter. “If you want something, beg pretty boy.”
Jack didn’t have to be asked twice.
As if the floodgates had been opened, Jack began to beg. “Need to come, please. I’m your pretty boy, I’m sorry, wanna be good,” he kept rambling, not sure if his point was coming across. He wasn’t even sure if he was saying the right words. Your hand didn’t move, not right away. He went to stumble over another string of pleas when your hand soon started to move up his cock. The words died on his tongue, devolving into a loud moan as he bucked his hips. He was so close. He needed to…
“Come for me, pretty boy.”
As soon as you permitted him, he was coming. A weak moan escaped him, his knuckles white from how hard he was gripping the counter. His head had fallen back as white ropes covered his chest and your hand. His breathing was heavy as he slowly came down, chest heaving. He couldn’t remember when he had last come that hard. You truly were amazing to him.
As he started to catch his breath, Jack brought his gaze back to you. You had pulled your hand away, seeming to examine the mess he had made. He shifted in place, slightly, swallowing harshly. “I’m sorry for making a mess, baby,” he tried to soften the blow, thinking you were disappointed in his cum coating your hand.
However, you couldn’t help but gaze at your hand as soon as you pulled away from his length. Your fingers were coated in his cum, and your eyes were swimming with mischief. Slowly, you brought your fingers to your mouth, gaze lifting to meet his. You made sure he watched as you took your fingers into your mouth. The soft slurp you made around your fingers had him nearly buckling at the knees. He wasn’t sure how he was still standing, his hands clutching desperately at the counter behind him.
Slowly, you pulled your fingers out of your mouth, a mischievous grin painting beautifully over your face. Your tongue poked out from between your lips, Jack’s breath catching at the sight. “You gonna show me how confident you are or keep playing scared, pretty boy?” You taunted, knowing how to pull at his strings.
Jack couldn’t even blame you. You had him wrapped around your finger so tightly that he couldn’t even imagine how to live without you.
tw/cw: 18+, MDNI, smut, dark!quinn, trevor zegras touches you and makes him jealous, use of vibrator, multiple orgasms, degradation, you black out from overstimulation, whoops
I'm late on my second entry, but hey, I think I get a pass for getting it done while coughing up a lung <3 and it's technically still the 10th for me
wc: 2,743
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You didn’t belong to anyone else. You belonged to Quinn. He was the reason you were even out here at the lake house. Surrounded by family and friends, he could still keep an eye on you. He could protect you. What he didn’t account for, though, was his brothers and their friends.
Jack had invited Zegras. Quinn hated the man with a passion. The two were rivals for a reason. However, unlike his younger brothers, Zegras didn’t get the same warning when it came to you. Jack and Luke knew better. Whether Zegras didn’t actually know or didn’t care didn’t matter to him. Quinn hated how close he kept getting to you.
You weren’t even helping, either. Whenever Quinn was behind the wheel of the boat, Zegras would slide right up beside you. You did nothing to pull away from him. You allowed him to slip his arm around your shoulders when the boat took a rough turn. How could you? You belonged to him.
Quinn couldn’t do anything until he had you alone, though. The entire time that you were out, you could feel the buzzing between you and your boyfriend. It was undeniable. You hadn’t thought much of what Trevor was doing. He was laying it on thick, sure, but you weren’t reciprocating. Quinn would realize that, right? He could trust you. You were his, you knew that.
That didn’t seem to matter, though. As soon as you walked through the door, Quinn was grabbing your arm. From the outside, it appeared that he was just pulling you closer to him. The way he made sure no one would catch on to the way his fingers were pressing deep into your arm, threatening to bruise the skin. He didn’t care; you’d be covered in his marks.
Turning to the others, Quinn made sure to hide his anger. They didn’t need to know. The fire beneath his skin was crackling, threatening to spill over. Still, he kept up the facade of calmness. “We’re heading in for the night,” he stated, a finalized statement that left no room to argue. When he turned to you, he could have sworn that you were staring at Zegras. How could you? His grip tightened even more, forcing your attention on him.
You were in for it now.
Quinn practically dragged you into your shared room. He threw you in, slamming the door behind him. His gaze turned to you, a sneer on his face as you tried to back away from him. “You think you can just let anyone touch you?” He asked, his tone dark as he directed his anger toward you. “Just a fucking slut, aren’t you?”
You shook your head as he took calculated steps towards you. “No, Quinn, please,” you tried to plead, to make him understand.
That didn’t stop Quinn, still approaching you with a darkness in his eyes you so rarely ever saw. You knew what that look meant. As the backs of your knees hit the softness of the bed, you fell back. You tried to crawl back, moving toward the headboard. Before you could make it all the way, though, Quinn took hold of your wrists with one of his hands. His fingers splayed out across your skin, the tightness causing you to whimper softly.
“Shut up,” he hissed, jaw clenched as he took in you. Took in what was his. Had you not been turned on by this, he may have gone for a softer approach. However, the way your thighs clenched told him all he needed to know. He had you wrapped around his finger. Had Quinn felt nicer in this moment, he may have relented to your pleas. He needed to remind you who you belonged to, though. He had to remind you of what happened when you tried to go against him.
With swiftness, Quinn had your hands above your head. You whined, back arching up against him as he leaned over you. A click above your head had you looking up. Tugging at your wrists, you tested the handcuffs that now held you to the bed frame. Knowing you had no escape, you gazed back up at Quinn with desperate eyes. “Quinn, please,” you tried again.
Your efforts were futile, though. As he straddled your thighs, he leaned over to grab something from the bedside table. As you attempted to thrash beneath him, you didn’t see what he pulled out. The only clue you got was a soft click followed by the soft hum of vibration.
Your thrashing ceased, looking up at Quinn, who now held the vibrator in his hand. He wasn’t looking at you. Anything that you tried to say seemed to die on your tongue. Your eyes were glued to the vibrator just like your boyfriend’s, breathing heavy as your heart raced. “Qu-Quinn, please,” you pleaded again. When the man above you didn’t look towards you, the whine that fell from your lips was pitiful as you pulled at the cuffs. The clang of metal on the headboard had Quinn finally giving you the attention you were so desperately searching for. “I’m sorry, pl-please, only need you.”
Quinn didn’t want to hear you say it. He needed you to prove it. The memory of Zegras daring to hold you so close still burned in his mind, causing his eyes to darken further. “Only need me?” He asked, voice thick with anger as he turned off the vibrator. He made sure you were watching as he moved. He pulled aside your shorts and panties, revealing your soaked pussy. Making sure to go slow, he pressed the vibrator against you. Adjusting it until it nestled right against your clit, watching you squirm. The touch caused your hips to jump ever so slightly with a whine. “You seem to just want just about any touch,” he growled, pressing against your clit with the vibrator. “Maybe if you can beg me enough, I’ll let you take a break.”
He had no intention of allowing you a moment of rest. Why would he? You hadn’t earned it. You allowed another to get close to you, to touch you. You should be thankful that he was allowing you any pleasure. This was all a privilege. You were lucky to have the vibrator pressed against you.
As soon as your mouth opened to beg, Quinn turned on the vibrator. As the toy buzzed to life again, your head fell back, back arching beautifully as a moan slipped loudly past your lips. You looked amazing like this. While Quinn wished he had stripped you before cuffing you to the bed, he was too impatient for that. This view would have to do.
Leaving the vibrator against you, Quinn stepped away from the bed. He wanted to watch. As you pulled at the cuffs, hips bucking into the stimulation, he couldn’t help but smirk. He hid it well, though, not wanting you to know he was enjoying this. He brushed a hand over his face, leaning back against the wall. “Look at you,” he murmured, clicking his tongue softly. “So fucking desperate you’d take a cheap toy over me.”
You tried to shake your head, wanting to deny his words. You didn’t want the toy. You wanted Quinn. However, the moans and whines that escaped you contradicted those thoughts. You needed to voice your thoughts, needed your boyfriend to understand that nothing would ever compare to him. “Qu-Quinn, please,” you tried again, needing to do that at least. While you hadn’t said anything but those two words, you knew that if you didn’t try, then you definitely had no chance.
Looking at the man across the room, you noticed how that didn’t seem to do anything. All Quinn did was continue to stand there. He was just watching, letting you suffer beneath the toy’s relentless assault on your clit. “Quinn, f-fuck, nothing was going to happen,” you explained, head falling back with a loud whine. Your stomach felt tight, and your need to come was creeping up on you faster than you had thought possible. You didn’t want to come, though. Not on the toy, at least. You wanted to come around Quinn. You wanted to show him that you needed him to come. No one and nothing else would be as good as him.
“Nothing?” Quinn’s harsh tone had you flinching slightly. It should have scared you, yes. However, you couldn’t help but feel as your arousal dripped around the vibrator and on your thighs, looking at him with desperation. “Nothing was going to happen, and yet you kept letting him touch you.” He shifted against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “If you needed touch that badly, then come all over yourself. Make a fucking mess since that’s all you are.”
As if on cue, you came with a loud moan. Your back arched beautifully, wrists tugging at the cool metal of the cuffs. If Quinn had thought about it before, he would have taken a picture. Cum now stained your shorts, soaking into the fabric as you breathed heavily. Despite having just come, though, Quinn didn’t dare move towards you to relieve you of the vibrator. That wasn’t enough to prove to him that he was needed. You needed to give more if you wanted a chance at a break.
Whimpering loudly, you could only thrash harder against your restraints. You needed a minute; you were so sensitive. The vibrator didn’t care, nor did Quinn. It felt like torture. Despite that thought, though, your body seemed to be chasing the high. Your hips bucked, searching for more that you couldn’t handle. “Quinn, babe, n-need you,” you pleaded again, begging for him. Even if it was to have a round with the real thing, anything would have been better than the continued use of the toy against your swollen clit.
Quinn adjusted himself against the wall. He didn’t move closer; he wouldn’t dare. However, he couldn’t help but brush his hand over the bulge in his jeans. The simple touch had him clenching his jaw, nearly growling had he not had the self-control that he did. Watching you, his girlfriend, come undone was always a turn on, no matter how you got off. While he would have preferred to have helped, this was just as good for your current circumstances.
You were struggling. You didn’t want the toy. You needed Quinn. Your boyfriend was just standing there. He was clearly just as affected as you were, though, the bulge in his jeans obvious. “Baby, please,” you tried, being cut off by another loud whimper as your hips jumped again. “N-need you, please, t-touch me, please. I’m s-sorry, only yours.”
Quinn’s brows furrowed, tilting his head at you. “Touch you?” He asked, almost as if he were offended by the idea. “Why on earth would I do that? You haven’t earned it,” his voice taunted, head held high. “You can come all over that toy again.” He took a deep breath, steadying himself before continuing. “You clearly don’t need me to feel good.”
Shaking your head roughly, you whined loudly. “N-no, need you s-so bad, Quinn,” you babbled, body wriggling beneath the vibrator.
The click of his tongue had you whimpering again. While he wanted to believe you, he also continued to doubt how much you were claiming to need him. “Need me? Does the vibrator not feel good? You’ve made such a nice mess, you can do better.”
Your back arched, moaning uncontrollably at the stimulation. You couldn’t deny how good it felt on your body. Despite not having the break you so desperately wanted, you felt good. “S-So good,” you whimpered, eyes rolling back as you felt that coil in your stomach all over again. “N-not as good as you, need y-you,” you continued to ramble, hoping something would get you on Quinn’s good side.
Your seemingly indifferent boyfriend smirked at you, knowing just how close you were to how you uselessly babbled. He cooed softly, tilting his head. “You love it, don’t you? Gonna come all over yourself again just for me?” He taunted, watching as you nodded quickly. You’d do anything for him. “Then do it, whore.”
As if you were a dog being told to sit, you came as you were told. You came with a loud scream, pulling harder at the cuffs as your hips jerked uncontrollably. Your entire body felt like it was buzzing in sync with the vibrator, not sure if it wanted to continue or to stop. You wanted a moment, a simple break from the assault on your clit. You would be fine if Quinn still wanted to use you, anything for just a moment. A single moment of peace, even if it was to reposition you to wherever he desired.
Despite your wishful thinking, Quinn hadn’t moved from his place against the wall. He was still just standing there, as if he were perfectly content to just stay out of the way. To stay away from you. “Qu-Quinn, n-need…fuck me pl-please,” you tried, hoping that if it came across as a demand, it would piss him off just enough to do something, anything.
The snort that left the man was almost heartbreaking in your current state. He was finding joy in your struggles, more than happy to allow this to continue. If Quinn had his way, you were sure he would leave you here all night long. He would be happy to let you keep screaming. Even if it meant Zegras would hear just who was making you feel this way. The idea was torturous for both of you. You couldn’t make it that long without Quinn, and he without you. There was only so much that the two of you could take. You were on the brink, and you weren’t sure which way you were heading anymore.
“Are you crying?” Quinn’s voice pulled you out of your head, whimpering loudly as you shook your head. As you did, though, you could feel tears streaming down your cheeks. You were crying. You weren’t even sure why you were crying. Was it the overstimulation? The lack of a break? The deprivation you were feeling without Quinn to even touch you? You couldn’t be sure.
The sound of movement had you trying to look at your boyfriend. However, a hand in your hair forced your head back, a broken whimper escaping you at the harsh touch. Quinn’s touch, that’s all you wanted. Your hips jumped, hands balling into fists. You wished you could hold the man now hovering over you. He wasn’t coming to touch more, though. He wasn’t taking the damned vibrator away; he was leaving it there. His eyes were hyper-focused on your face.
Quinn’s movements were slow, your breath hitching as he moved his face closer. Your eyes fluttered shut, lips parting. You were expecting him to kiss you, to remind you that he was there for you, too. Quinn always did; he was always kind enough to give you that. Just a small reminder that this wasn’t forever, his harsh treatment wasn’t permanent.
Despite expecting their lips to meet, it was Quinn’s tongue that touched your cheek. You couldn’t help but gasp, feeling him lick at the tears that had fallen down your face. More tears fell as the new coil within you snapped suddenly. You could barely control your body, shuddering against the restraints as you came again.
You couldn’t help the broken sob that escaped you as the vibrator continued. You hated it; you wanted it gone. You needed it to stop. Your eyes looked up at Quinn, vision blurring from the tears pouring freely. You couldn’t even find the words, too lost to function. As you looked up at him, though, Quinn wasn’t looking back. He was gazing down at your body, licking his lips. No, you couldn’t, no more…
Quinn’s fingers then moved to your thigh, touching your skin as he seemed to scoop something off your plush thigh. When he pulled his finger away, examining it, you could see your juices dripping down his fingers. Without hesitation, Quinn took the digits into his mouth, sucking them clean with an absurd slurp. Only then did he meet your gaze, pulling his fingers out of his mouth with a smile. “Such a good slut, only for me.”
You couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer as everything faded to black.
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I hope you all enjoy! @vxmpirebyrumor is always saving my ass from grammar mistakes
tw/cw: 18+, MDNI, smut, sub!quinn, body worship(ish), marking, biting, whiny quinn, he needed a distraction
A little extra for Kinktober <3 this is set after the cancuks @ oilers game from saturday. Quinn just needs a distraction from it all
wc: 748
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Quinn could do nothing but let you have your way. With how soft you were, he was more than happy to have you like this. The game had been rough. Sure, he’d broken a record for the Canucks as a defenseman, but it didn’t feel rewarding. The loss felt like a slap to the face. With your lips on his skin, his head fell back slowly. Your touch always made the tension fade away from his mind, no matter what.
You hummed softly, causing him to groan as he felt the vibration against his pulse point. “Baby,” he whispered, being rewarded with your teeth dragging right above where his heart was racing. It wasn’t because of the game, nor for that stupid postgame interview. His heart was racing for you.
You didn’t let up, sneaking one hand to the other side of his neck. Your fingers were so soft against his skin. While his were calloused, yours were gentle, as if feather light against his skin. As they pressed lightly against his pulse, feeling the way his heart raced for you, Quinn knew he was a goner. Even before you rolled your hips, he was moaning softly, the game forgotten and replaced with nothing but you.
“So good, baby,” you cooed softly. You couldn’t help but drag your tongue over his stubble, feeling as it prickled against your tongue. Despite his quick shower, you could still taste the sweat on his skin. “You did amazing, such a good captain,” you continued to praise. You wanted him to know that the game wasn’t his fault. He did all that he could.
Usually, it was enjoyable to hear you use his title. However, he was shaking his head. When you pulled away, your brows furrowed, Quinn pulled you closer. “Not captain, don’t wanna think about the game.” He sounded out of breath, his voice almost sounding weak as he looked at you with desperation in his eyes. He just needed the break. He needed to forget about tonight.
Your features softened as your hands came up to cup his face gently. You understood, Quinn didn’t need to explain himself. You were there to make him feel better. Your boyfriend deserved that. “You’re just so beautiful, baby,” you whispered, feeling him lean into your touch as your thumbs brushed over the short stubble. You moved his head slightly, tilting his chin back as your lips brushed just above where your thumb was. “Let me make you feel better.”
Quinn’s eyes rolled back, nodding. You knew him so well. You knew just how to make his mind go blank. It was what he needed. Your lips and teeth marked his skin, pulling soft groans and whines from his throat. You didn’t wander from his scruff, seeming focused on it. The slight itch was an added distraction, an added sensation as you continued to touch him.
Your hips rolled, causing Quinn to moan as you brushed over his hard-on. Despite that touch, though, you didn’t let up from his neck and jaw. Your focus was on marking him. He could tell, your teeth pulling at his skin as you lavished him with attention. Not only were you rewarding him with your touch, you were marking him as yours.
Suddenly, we pulled away from Quinn’s neck, causing him to whine softly. However, your hands on his shoulders kept him in place. You weren’t looking at him, not as he pleaded with his eyes for you to come back. He needed your touch. Yet, no, your eyes fell lower. Where your lips had been, you let your finger drag over the marks you had left. Feeling the path of your finger, he noticed how your marks made a design. You had marked him with your initial.
Licking your lips, you moved Quinn’s head to tilt the other direction. He had a whole other side of his neck that you needed to cover with more of your marks. Anything to keep him distracted, to make him feel better.
