Quinn Hughes Fluff - Blog Posts

He needs a baby (I volunteer)

boy dad quinn please gorgeous

Omg yess thank you for the request love getting them💕 hope you like it

A Little Fan’s First Game-Quinn hughes

Quinn hughes x reader

Masterlist

The hum of excitement filled Rogers Arena as fans streamed in, donning their blue and green Canucks jerseys. Among the sea of supporters, Y/N stood out, balancing a squirming little boy on her hip. Nate, their two-year-old son, was dressed in a miniature Quinn Hughes jersey, complete with the number 43 on the back. His eyes sparkled with curiosity as he took in the bustling arena around him.

“This place is huge, huh, buddy?” Y/N murmured, kissing the top of his head.

Nate responded with a series of excited babbles, pointing at the ice. “Daddy! Daddy!”

Y/N laughed. “We’ll see Daddy soon, Nate. Let’s get to our seats first.”

They made their way down to a prime spot near the glass, a perfect view for Nate’s first hockey game. Y/N settled into her seat, setting Nate on her lap. The little boy immediately leaned forward, pressing his tiny hands against the cool glass.

The Canucks were warming up on the ice, and Y/N spotted Quinn almost instantly. His smooth skating and effortless puck handling made him stand out. He glanced toward the stands, searching, and when his eyes landed on Y/N and Nate, his face lit up with a smile.

“Daddy!” Nate squealed, banging his hands on the glass with enthusiasm.

Quinn skated over, tapping his stick lightly against the glass in front of Nate. The toddler’s laughter was infectious, drawing smiles from fans seated nearby.

Y/N waved, holding up Nate’s hand to wave too. “Say hi to Daddy!”

“Hi, Daddy!” Nate shouted, his little voice muffled by the glass.

Quinn chuckled, then skated to the bench, where he grabbed a puck. Skating back, he tossed it gently over the glass, aiming it perfectly into Y/N’s hands.

“For Nate,” he mouthed, giving them a wink.

Y/N showed the puck to Nate, who clutched it tightly in his tiny hands. “Look, Nate! Daddy gave you a puck!”

The little boy held it up proudly, his eyes wide. “Daddy’s puck!”

The warmups continued, but Nate’s attention stayed fixed on Quinn. He clapped his hands every time his dad skated by, cheering loudly with an energy that belied his small size.

“Can’t wait to tell Daddy how good he’s doing, huh?” Y/N whispered in Nate’s ear, earning a giggle from the boy.

When the game began, the excitement only grew. Nate bounced on Y/N’s lap, clapping his hands along with the crowd. Every time the Canucks scored, he’d throw his arms up in the air, mimicking the celebration he saw on the ice.

By the second intermission, Y/N could tell Nate was getting a bit tired. His eyelids drooped, and his head rested against her shoulder, but his little hands still clung to the puck as if it were his most prized possession.

During the third period, with the Canucks holding a narrow lead, Quinn made a great defensive play, stealing the puck and sending it down the ice. The crowd roared, and even Nate, despite his fatigue, perked up, clapping his hands slowly.

When the final horn sounded, signaling a Canucks win, Y/N stood, holding Nate up so he could see the ice better. Quinn and his teammates skated around, waving to the crowd. He stopped near their section again, tapping his stick on the ice and pointing up at Nate.

“Wave to Daddy one more time,” Y/N encouraged, helping Nate lift his hand.

“Bye-bye, Daddy!” Nate called out, his voice sleepy but full of love.

Quinn grinned, giving them a final wave before disappearing down the tunnel.

---

Later that evening, back at home, Quinn sat on the couch with Nate nestled against him. The little boy was clutching his puck tightly, his eyes half-closed as he fought off sleep.

“You were my good luck charm tonight, buddy,” Quinn said softly, running a hand through Nate’s dark hair.

Y/N sat beside them, her head resting on Quinn’s shoulder. “He was so excited the whole time. You should’ve seen how he was cheering for you.”

Quinn smiled, leaning over to kiss Y/N’s temple. “I saw. Thanks for bringing him tonight. It meant a lot.”

Y/N smiled back. “It was perfect. He’s going to be your biggest fan, you know.”

Quinn looked down at his son, who was now fast asleep, the puck still clutched tightly in his little hands. “He already is,” he whispered, his heart full.

💕💕Remember reblog helps a lot guy💕💕

wrapped 'round my finger !

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

pairings: quinn hughes x best friend!reader, quinn x sunshine!reader

warnings: angst and comfort, fluff, smut, fem!reader is described as smaller (shorter?), and swearing.

summary: you're the sweetest thing on planet earth, but you have terrible taste in guys. however, you've got the captain of the canucks wrapped around your pinky. too bad you don't see him that way...right?

trope: best friends to lovers, idiots in love, grumpy x sunshine, whipped boyfriend

word count: 1.3 k

notes: princess treatment is WHAT EVERY GIRL DESERVES!! also I just love quinn hughes :) happy reading!!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

bsf! quinn hughes who absolutely is wrapped around your finger. he loves you so freaking much and he's so in love with you it's all over his face. bo and millsy take turns making fun of him, while petey watches his lovelorn expression with a teasing grin.

bsf! quinn hughes who treats you like a princess: he's always giving you his jacket when you pout because you're cold, even though he already told you to bring a sweater. he's always opening doors, cans of soda before he hands it to you. he grumbles when you flutter your eyelashes at him, but flushes pink anyways and does what you want.

bsf! quinn hughes who doesn't let you lift a finger when you're together. he does everything for you, because you deserve to be taken care of.

bsf! quinn hughes who has to watch you date guy after guy, something sour and heated twisting in his chest because they can't treat you right like he does.

bsf! quinn hughes who finally confesses his love for you after you complain about a guy who left you at the restaurant to pick up a package during your date, because he's so fucking fed up with you being unhappy and the fact he can't kiss you like wants to.

bsf! quinn hughes who kisses you hard and rough as you whine into his mouth and clutch at his shirt while he grips your hips hard enough to leave a bruise.

bsf! quinn hughes who doesn't let you go, instead picking you up and (gently) tossing you on the bed. he crawls up to lick into your mouth one more time before going down on you.

bsf! quinn hughes who's totally a munch, but only for you. he keeps going even after you cum all over his face twice. you're grinding against his nose, as he murmurs "just one more". you're all teary and fucked out, but he pulls two more orgasms from you: one with his fingers and the other with you canting you hips on his thigh.

bsf! quinn hughes who groans and throws his head back when he finally pushes himself into your heat, after you tell him you're on the pill. you feel so much better than his hand during roadies where he moans your name to find release. you claw at his back, grabbing at his biceps as you call his name. he wants to swallow you whole.

bsf! quinn hughes who has dreamed of you on your back in his sheets, your manicured nails scraping his scalp as he ruts into you. the pleasure is almost unbearable, and he shudders all over. he has one forearm above your head to hold his weight, the other pressed on your belly where he can feel himself moving within you.

bsf! quinn hughes who marks up your neck as you whimper and mewl at the overstimulation, trying to wiggle away. he mouths at your pulse, relishing in the way it thumps loud and fast.

bsf! quinn hughes who grunts and almost comes when you lock your legs around his waist, whining for him to fuck you harder. he grabs your chin so you can watch as he lifts one of your knees over his shoulder, both of you rolling your eyes back at the new angle.

bsf! quinn hughes who is enraptured as you come on his cock, crying and pulling him close. he murmurs, "good job, baby. that's it. ride it out". you finally settle down as he rides out your high as long as possible.

bsf! quinn hughes who is still incredibly hard and pent up, but your hole is too sensitive. he's ready to take himself in his hand, except you flip yourself over onto your tummy, tucking your chin over you shoulder with your ass in the air, all tired bedroom eyes and mussed hair. he tells you you're perfect as he fulfills another of his wet dreams. he makes a mess of you, and presses his lips to your spine as he finally releases.

bsf! quinn hughes who holds you close in the shower, as you give slow, languid kisses to his chest.

bsf! quinn hughes who asks you shyly to be his as he cuddles you to sleep from behind. you tell him yes, flipping to shove your face into his neck, hiding your massive grin. he smiles: he finally got the girl.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

bf! quinn hughes who is way more publicly affectionate with you than anyone has seen him be, especially after you guys finally get together.

bf! quinn hughes who becomes so clingy that even his brothers cringe at the way he becomes an absolute baby when you enter the room.

bf! quinn hughes who loves being cooed and fussed over. he loves when you feed him after a long game, eating straight from your fingers as he leans back on the headboard of your shared bed as you sit on his lap, pushing bites of food past his lips.

bf! quinn hughes who is so proudly a loverboy. he always has to have a hand on your back, an arm around your waist or shoulder. petey jokes that his eyes are practically magnetic to you.

bf! quinn hughes who's not that tall - especially since he's surrounded by other bigger hockey players - but you make him feel like the biggest man in the world. you always tuck your tiny hand into the crook of his elbow, clinging to his bicep as the two of you walk in public. he loves how you need to tiptoe and tug him down to kiss him, despite the neck pain.

bf! quinn hughes who loves to toss you around like a ragdoll, safely, of course. he loves to manhandle you: throwing you over his shoulder playfully and slapping your ass as you shriek, swatting his broad back. he picks you up like you weigh nothing to plop you down on the counter to hear you yap as he makes breakfast. you climb him like a tree when there's a spider in your en suite bathroom.

bf! quinn hughes who loves seeing you wear his clothes, because you look so cute drowning in his hoodies. his favourite thing to come back home to is you wrapped up in one of his jersey's - a warm flush pleasant over his skin because you're wearing his last name so proudly - and a home cooked meal after a hard game.

bf! quinn hughes loves to make you laugh, and will talk hours with you even though he has a hard time opening up to anyone else. he also loves listening to you talk, because you're just so kind and good to everyone, and it shows through the loving way you speak.

bf! quinn hughes who loves when you compliment him. a "good job, quinny. you played real good today", or a "thank you for dinner, baby" or even "please don't shave your playoff beard! you look so handsome" gets him all hot and bothered.

bf! quinn hughes who for sure has a captain kink. it's a heat of the moment thing for you, when he's got his face tucked into your neck as he grinds down into you, and you mewl his name along with his title. he stops, and you slap a hand over your mouth in embarrassment. he tugs it off, teeth scraping at your jaw as he tells you to say it again.

bf! quinn hughes who is bossy - in bed and out - and you love it. you love when he tells you to dress nice for a date to your favourite restaurant, who orders your food for you because he already knows what you want, who tells you to buy something pretty with his credit card because he can spoil you that way.

bf! quinn hughes who just loves you so much!!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

⋆·˚ ༘ * oh, my, my, my ⋆·˚ ༘ *

nhl masterlist !

pairings: quinn hughes x childhood friend!reader, jack hughes x platonic best friend!reader, quinn x artist!reader

warnings: angst and comfort, fluff

summary: you and quinn throughout the years, and how you fall in love <3

song: mary's song (oh my my my) by taylor swift

word count: 4.4 k

notes: I love lake quinn sm :)

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

our daddies used to joke about the two of us, growing up and falling in love, our mamas smiled, and rolled their eyes

"oh, she's so tiny!" ellen cooes, cradling the little bundle of pink, "and she has your eyes, birdie."

your mother smiles at the nickname her college friend had given her freshman year, when a bird had pooped on her head during a girl's night out.

it stuck (literally), and almost 10 years later, as her best friend holds her babygirl, she's reminded of everything they'd been through together.

"congrats, man. the first girl in the family!" jim slaps your dad on the shoulder, the two men smiling at their wives.

"oh, she's just precious." you yawn, and all of the adults are reduced to an awwing mess.

quinn toddles over, chubby toddler legs still unsure. he lands on his butt half a foot away from ellen, who lifts him up with the hand that wasn't holding you.

"look, quinny."

quinn reaches out a finger towards you, and jim is about to chide him when your tiny little fist locks around it. his wide eyes widen even more. you gurgle happily at him, and for the first time in a while, he goes completely still, enraptured by the baby in front of him.

"oh." your father whispers.

"well, that's your son-in-law now," jim laughs.

"hey, don't count out jack! they're closer in age, after all."

your mom rolls her eyes, as ellen snorts, "let's not pre-write our kid's futures before they're five, please."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

i was seven and you were nine, i looked at you like the stars that shine

"y'know, birdie," ellen starts, "the boys might be right."

"no, they cannot eat four pb and j's and then go to the carnival-"

"no, not the little ones!", ellen laughs, "our husbands. they might be right."

"oh, that? the whole son-in-law thing?" your mom grins, as she watches luke chase after you with a worm.

the two women are silent and thoughtful as you - screaming at the top of your lungs - duck behind quinn, who sternly tells off his little brother. your sticky hands lace with his, naturally, albeit a bit awkward the way only kids can be.

you absolutely adore quinn. he's your protector, the one you turn to more often than not. jack is your best friend, and you remind her of that often. luke is your baby brother, the one you coddle and fuss over.

and the boys adore you just as much; jack plays pirates with you all day, Luke follows you like a puppy, and quinn...

he's staked a claim on you that makes your mom laugh, but worry a little when your older and you inevitably find someone who isn't him.

it never occurred to her that he might be the one.

"oh my god." your mom says as your dad walks in with jim.

"ha! see? I know I put money on my son for good reason." jim says gleefully, and quickly pipes down at ellen's dirty look.

"jack is also your son, man." your dad shakes his head.

"seriously? you guys made bets on the future love lives of your prepubescent kids?"

"birdie, it's just a joke!"

he eats his words as quinn leads you through the door. you're in tears, a nasty scrape on your knee. he's got your hand cradled in his.

ellen and your mom fawn over it, how brave you were, but all you could remember is how quinn held your hand the whole time.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

take me back when our world was one block wide, i dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried

when you're ten, you almost have your first kiss.

you're going through a phase, really, when all you would wear were your overall jean shorts, a big t-shirt and your red converses. you have little pen drawings all over your shoes and shorts.

now, when you look at the photos from back then, you cringe a little at how lanky and young you look.

you're with the boys at one of the neighbouring lake houses, a couple of other girls and a few guys too.

everyone there lived on the same block, so it was odd that you hadn't all hung out together before.

quinn can tell you're uncomfortable around the other guys, who are loud and frankly very obnoxious. even his 12-year-old self can tell.

he tells you that you can all leave and go get ice cream near the boardwalk, but you refuse. you're 10 already, you can handle a few new strangers.

somehow, spin the bottle is brought up and you find yourself sitting cross-legged as one of the older girls - who's kind and much more grown than you - tellsdyou how to spin the bottle.

your hands shake and the backs of your knees are slick with sweat, but you spin anyways. you want to seem cool and older too.

you watch the root beer bottled patter as it turns, the ting, ting sound dissonant with your thumping heart.

it lands on quinn.

your quinn who knows all of the words to the spider man movies, who gives the last popsicle to you and lets you tuck your feet under his thighs when you get cold.

this is a disaster, you think, because you don't know how to kiss! are you supposed to use your tongue? you almost gag at the thought.

quinn can see your very apparent panic, and the only thing on his mind was to make it of away.

he wants to hold your hand, but when you turned nine you had decided that boys had cooties, so you refused to touch him or his brothers.

"...we don't have to," he offers, scratching his neck. one of the boys boo, and you flush.

you shook your head, "i want to."

he smiles, shy and boyish and your heart goes into overdrive.

his face matches yours in colour as he scoots forward awkwardly, cupping your face the way he'd seen his dad do to his mom.

as he leans forward, you burst into tears. if you kiss him, and he's disgusted by your kissing skills - or lack thereof - he wouldn't be your quinn anymore.

you run out embarrassed, leaving quinn's hand outstretched and the older girl from earlier confused and worried.

you think that you had ruined it all, but later that night when quinn offers to take you to get ice cream and lets you get two scoops, you know nothing can tear the two of you apart.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

take me back to the creek beds we turned up, two A.M. riding in your truck and all I need is you next to me

the year quinn turned 16, he gets his boating and drivers license.

when the first real day of summer - he doesn't count the days until he sees you and the lake house again - starts and he finds you making eggs and bacon in the kitchen, he gives you an offer.

"hey, chickie." he tugs playfully at the string of your apron. jim had given you that nickname because of your mom's. chickie, like a baby bird. jack liked to call you chicklet, and Luke followed suit.

the adults think you've outgrown that name, and only call you chickie sporadically.

it's become special for you and quinn, sacred even,

"hi, quinny." you answer in the same tone, swatting him with the spatula in your hand.

"give me a piece of bacon and i'll take you out onto the water. i'll even let you drive a bit when we're far out." he murmurs as you turn the stove off.

"really?" you squeal, and he winces jokingly.

"yes, yes! finally!" you throw yourself at him, letting the older boy catch you around the waist. he grins into your hair, his cheek muscles unused by the seasons without you.

"okay, kid. pipe down. where's my bacon?" he grumbles, but he smiles when you turn around to fix him a whole plate.

you forget in all of your excitement that he doesn't even like bacon.

it's pathetic, really, but he missed you. he still does even though you're less than a foot away from him, salting your scrambled eggs.

he finishes his food faster than you do, and leaves to set up the boat with your promises that you would hurry.

he's excited; he hasn't seen you since christmas, and then, he had to share you with jack and luke and his parents too.

that year, you and jack had become decidedly closer, and quinn knows he has to establish that boat time was for you and him only.

so when jack and luke both follow you onto the boat, whooping and screaming, he's pissed.

and on top of that, he has to drive the boat while you and jack banter and threaten to shove each other off of the moving vessel.

it wasn't fair: you're his person. you guys did gas station runs together, you always looked at him with sad puppy eyes when you were cold.

he'd always grumbled and give you his sweatshirt when you refused to bring a jacket and ended up shivering. you always begged to braid his hair when the sun was at it's highest and there was nothing to do.

so yeah, excuse him if he was mad that your time together was interrupted by jack and luke of all people.

so when you walk up to him, hair messy and wearing nothing but your bathing suit and one of his old hockey jerseys, he tries his best to ignore you.

"quinny!" you exclaim, nudging his shoulder, and once more when he doesn't answer.

he glances quickly at you, but one look is enough to make his chest squeeze in that way that it started to do since last summer.

you had always been beautiful, but you were starting to be seriously gorgeous.

your hair is windblown, skin tanned and freckled with eyes bright from the sheer novelty of it being summer again.

you'd started to fill out more; the tiny bikinis you - and he - loved made something hot tug in his lower stomach.

tucking your hand into the crook of his elbow in the way that always makes him soften like butter, "I thought you were gonna let me drive!"

"ask jack to teach you," he snarks, and regrets it immediately at the hurt on your face.

his chest tightens, like someone has taken the hurt on your features and shoved it between his rib cage so he couldn't breathe.

the two of you don't talk for the rest of the day.

quinn feels like an asshole, and he really doesn't like how you refuse to sit in your normal spot next to him during movie night, instead opting to tuck yourself between the edge of the couch and luke.

and the salt on the wound was when you don't laugh at the stupid jokes he makes for you, especially.

his mom asks him what he had done when he goes to get more popcorn in the kitchen.

"what? why did you automatically assume I didn't something?" he asked, offended.

"because, that girl sticks to you like a magnet," ellen smooths his temple, "and because no one makes you smile and talk like she does. you've been silent all day."

the next night, he shows up at the door of your room in the lake house your two families shared.

he knocks, and pokes his head in, "chickie?

you're at your table, drawing again like you always were.

he keeps the little sketch of him you made last summer in his wallet, tucked under the picture of all of the hughes boys and you.

you ignore him, and he flops on your bed. the floral sheets your mom bought when you were 11 smells like you. he tries not to be creepy and inhale - at least too noticeably.

"gas station run?" he asks.

you finally spare him a glance, "quinny, it's past one o'clock, and it'll take at least 20 minuted to get there."

"please? I really want chips."

you sigh, ever the martyr, and agree. neither of you mention how the hughes stock up enough snacks to last at least 2 months the beginning of every summer.

the battle of who cracks first kept on, until finally, on the way back from the gas station, quinn sighs, "I'm sorry.

you frown, clearly not impressed, "I don't even know why you're sorry."

"god, this is embarrassing-"

"quintin, i swear-"

"i wanted the boat ride to be just us two!" he exclaims loudly.

there was a beat of silence, only the chirp of crickets that crept in the tall grass you could hear through the open windows of jim's truck.

the light on the radio shined, 1:59 AM.

"what?" you ask, a little confused and very much flustered.

"i missed you, chickie, and jack is always monopolizing your time! you're my person and-"

"are you jealous?"

"what?"

"oh my god, you are! you're jealous!"

"no!" he splutters, grateful that it's pitch black outside, because he can feel his ears heating up.

you laugh, tugging at one of his curls, as he grumbles something about not letting you eat any of his salt and vinegar chips.

"quinny?" you ask a little while later, when he's pulling back into the drive way, "y'know that you're my person too, right?"

you look soft and sleepy, under the light of the car, in one of his hoodies and sleep shorts.

he swears he turns into liquid in the drivers seat.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

well, i was sixteen when suddenly, i wasn't that little girl you used to see

"I wouldn't worry about that, chicklet." jack throws his arm around you, and you roll your eyes at the many girls starting to glare at you.

"I don't know what you're talking about." except you do.

there's a girl flirting with quinn, and she's pretty. she's got tattoos on her arms, and she's tall, almost tall at him.

you take a break from the self-deprecating comparison between yourself and her to admire quinn for one second.

he's gotten so tall and broad, all the signs of boyhood gone, except when he smiles that special smile for you. the one when his eyes get all squinty and he bares all of his pretty teeth.

your heart twists, because he hasn't smiled at you like that all summer.

you don't know what you did wrong. maybe he's outgrowing you. he'll be a college man next fall, and you're still in high school.

he's got the whole world in front of him, and well, you couldn't blame him if he didn't want to settle for you.

you realize your feelings for him the beginning of the summer.

or you uncover them, because if you're honest, they've always been there.

and right now, you're wearing your heart on your sleeve, because he looks so handsome in a tight black t-shirt and shorts, a backwards cap on his curls.

his biceps look huge, and between the teenage hormones and the two shots in your system, you want to climb him like a tree.

the more romantic side of you wished you had your charcoal and parchment, so you can copy down his likeness for when your old and greying and you can't remember how he looks illuminated by the moon and bonfire.

"yeah, sure. you're clueless." jack snorts, and he makes his way to the drink table at the party you're at.

you pass by Luke, who's preoccupied by a girl way too old for him, and go sit closer to the fire.

you're mad.

you're mad because you've dressed up real cute, in a tiny black tube top and denim shorts.

you're mad because your hair is curled the way quinn likes it.

you know that for a fact because every time it looks like that, he comes up behind you to wind his fingers through a strand. it was a hassle, and he won't even look at you.

"what's a pretty girl like you doing alone?"

it's a boy with mussed, brown hair and a nice smile.

he's cute. peter, or pierre, he introduces himself. he reminds you a bit of the boyfriend you had first semester of sophomore year.

you've had boyfriends, and quinn has had his relationships, but summer was sacred.

that's why you felt ill when you flirted with him, not because quinn was a mere 20 feet away, starting to glance over and frown.

quinn has always been a jealous motherfucker; you'd give it 5 minutes before he comes over.

you try not to gloat when he comes over in 2.

"hey, chickie. time to go." he tells you, taking you cup and winding an arm around your waist.

you roll your eyes, pushing him off, "no, I'm good here,"

quinn crosses his arms and puffs out his chest, biceps flexing in front of you.

the boy smiles - you've already forgotten his name, something p - and shrugs at quinn.

he's mad now, you can tell, but you wrap you're fingers around the other boy's elbow to egg him on.

"oh, for- that's it. c'mon."

suddenly, your feet are swept out from under you, and you're thrown over his shoulder.

you frown, realizing that you're in the air.

"hey!" you protest weakly as people turn to look at you. quinn continues his trudge all the way to where he's parked his dad's truck and dumps you on the hood like you weigh nothing.

"what are you doing?" he asks, eyes dark, "that guy is no good-"

"no! what are you doing?" all of your frustration pools in your throat, and embarrassing tears are starting to prick at your eyes.

"you won't even look at me all summer, you're flirting with some girl and you get mad at me? you're being such-"

he shakes his head, looking as exasperated as you feel.

"do you know how hard it is-" he breathes out shakily, "how difficult it is to control myself around you?"

"what?" you ask, heart beating in your ears, "what?"

"i have been in love with you since i was 12, chickie." his tone is begging, and so are his eyes.

he looks pained, and you want to relieve it so, so badly. but he still won't touch you. he's hovering away from you, like he has for the past month.

"i love you, and you see me nothing more than a brother, like how you see jack. and it hurts, here," he rubs the heel of his palm between his ribs, "to know that you'll never want me the same way."

"quinn-"

"no, let me talk. I've spent the past 6 years pining after you. I've tried to move on, but all...nothing compares to you. I want you so bad, chickie, but..." he turns from you, head in his hands.

now, if you weren't like 3 beers and 2 shots deep, you would realize that he can't really go anywhere because you're quite literally on the top of his car.

but drunk you is clearly a dumbass, because you think he's trying to leave. so you tell him what's actually on your mind.

"i love you!" you blurt out.

he turns slowly, "what?"

"i love you too. i thought you didn't want me because you're leaving for college, but i want you so bad, please-"

the next thing you know, he's between your legs, so warm and solid, pulling you in by your cheek like during that spin the bottle game 6 years ago.

you let him kiss you for real this time, you let him push up your shorts to feel more of your skin, you let him lick into your mouth.

he pulls away, and you whine, tugging him in again.

he laughs, which makes you laugh in turn, and you slide down the hood as you giggle. he catches you, because he always does.

"i love you." you tell him, and he flushes, nuzzling into your neck.

"say it again," he demands, just because he can.

"i love you, my quinny." you coo, and he wants to crawl into your skin and settle there forever.

"i love you too, chickie."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

oh, my, my, my

"told you so." Jim tells the rest of the parents.

the four of them - the weirdos - are on the second floor, leaning on the bannister as you make breakfast with quinn.

well, you make breakfast and he's distracting you.

he's got his arms wrapped around your shoulders from the back, and the two of you waddle like a pair of penguins around the kitchen gathering ingredients for pancakes.

you're giggling, and he's got a half-smile on his face.

you look so happy together than ellen and your mom are ignoring jim's gloating.

they are even kind enough to ignore the exchange of money between the two men, after all, your dad had bet on jack and lost.

"i can't wait for their wedding."

"hold on, now!"

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

a few years had gone and come around, we were sitting at our favorite spot in town and you looked at me, got down on one knee

you're on Quinn's lap, content and warm. the two of you had gotten up to watch the sunrise, first day of the summer at the lake house.

it's nice to have everyone in one place again, the two of you coming from vancouver, the boys from new jersey.

the past couple of years had been hard; a year or two long distance, until you went to study architecture at UBC after quinn had been drafted.

this year, 24 and 22, you finally get some rest and the promise of settling down more.

quinn's captain, and you have a good job that lets you work remote and do what you love.

and more importantly, the two of you are always together.

"babe?" quinn asks, running a hand down your arms, "c'mon, let's go to the dock?"

you don't protest, just happy to be at your childhood lake house.

he leads you there, like he always does.

"pretty." you stare out at the water, orange and pink sky meeting in the still horizon.

"yeah." quinn gives you a smile, rare for anyone else.

but he has always smiled for you, and you greedily hoard them in your memories.

"got something to show you," he pulls his wallet out, the two pictures in the clear flaps catch your eye.

one is a polaroid of you and your boys. quinn is 15, jack is 14, you're 13 and luke is 11. all of you are lanky and awkward, wrapped around each other and grinning ear to ear.

the other is also a polaroid, taken by ellen a year or two ago, when all of your parents came to visit your Vancouver apartment.

quinn's arm is around your shoulders and you're clinging to his side, one hand curled around his waist and the other on his chest. you're smiling at the camera, and quinn is smiling at you.

"cute," you tell him, but he digs a finger into the little pocket.

"fuck," he swears when whatever he's looking for doesn't come out.

"here, let me," you offer. you retrieve a piece of thick parchment with your smaller hands.

it's a sketch of quinn you did when you were in your early teens.

it's not great, you have to admit. the lines aren't smooth like how you sketch now, but the ink and paper is in pristine condition.

"quinn...you kept this?" you ask softly, oddly emotional.

when you look at him, he has a weird look on his face. he scratches his neck.

you stare at each other for a moment, the familiarity of your love almost stifling in the cool morning air.

and then he drops down on one knee.

you start crying, immediately.

that sets him off, and the two of you are blubbering as he tries to get through the speech he wrote in his notes 7 months ago after he got the ring and you were in the shower.

he tells you he loves you, how he's never going to leave you, that you're going to build a life together, just like how you've done everything together since you were kids.

you believe him, because your quinn is nothing if not earnest and steady.

you let him slip the simple ring onto your finger, and he lifts you up into strong arms to kiss you.

you're so deliriously happy that your teeth clash with his in a smiling kiss.

your families cheers from the porch, and you laugh, watery and heart full.

jack runs up first, swinging you around and clapping his hand down on quinn's shoulder.

Luke kisses your cheek and hugs his older brother, as ellen and your mom hug you together.

jim wraps his arms around you, pressing his lips to your forehead, "thanks for helping me win the bet, chickie." you chuckle, reaching for your dad next.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

take me back to the time when we walked down the aisle, our whole town came and our mamas cried, you said I do and I did too

the wedding takes place a year later, in a small winery near the house, because ellen and your mom refused to let you have the wedding on the dock.

this was your compromise, because it's a small affair.

your dad walks you down the aisle to quinn. you're smiling, like there's a hanger in your mouth because you're just so happy.

he cries when he sees you, and so do the other hughes boys.

you hear your mom and ellen, tears meeting shaky smiles on their faces.

your own college friend, your birdie, fixes your veil and holds your bouquet.

sweet promises are exchanged in your vows, and when you have your first kiss as mr. and mrs. hughes, all of your loved ones cheer.

quinn sweeps you off your feet and bridal carries you to a change room so you can switch into your reception dress.

he sees you later as jack, who volunteered to be the mc, announces you guys as mr. and mrs. hughes.

quinn's eyes are hot and dark as he sees your smooth skin under white lace, and whispers something into the shell of your ear that makes you pink.

you dance together, with his brothers and his dad, with your own too.

but the last dance is saved for the two of you.

"i can't wait to grow old with you, chickie." he whispers romantically.

"you'd make such a cute old man," you tell him, and he rolls his eyes.

you laugh, and so does he.

forever sounds real good to you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

LATE NIGHT TALKING

WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content.

PAIRING(S): Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: in which it’s part of his routine for Quinn Hughes to talk to Fem!Reader’s baby bump.

Quinn had never really been one for routines. It wasn’t as though life really let him have them with all the things it’s hurdled, but there were a few things he still managed to do regularly. Like his extensive skin care, and the way he had something sweet after lunch every day, or the way he kissed the tip of Y/N’s nose twice and then her lips before he got up every morning.

Most importantly, it was the way he tiptoed into the quiet house in the dead of night, making his way to admire the happy little nursery room they’ve put together while running his fingers over the soft blanket waiting for their baby's arrival, and then winded up curled by Y/N’s legs at the foot of their bed as he lifted her shirt over her swollen belly and planted a little kiss to her skin.

It was comical almost, with his tall stature and his long, muscled limbs, but Quinn made it work. He loved being eye level with their baby, even if he wasn’t really seeing them, and he wasn’t really sure where their eyes even were. But it was a set routine, one he cherished greatly, one that gave him just a semblance of something calm and soft and safe in his life.

"Hey, bubs.” Quinn murmured, rubbing soft circles into her baby bump as he spoke with his lips pressed against her skin. "Your mom hates when I call you that. It's why I’ve gotta do it.” He chuckled.

Y/N was pretty sure Quinn could think of a new pet name every day, that their child could very well grow up without hearing the same one twice for as long as he was around. His list never seemed to stop growing from new additions, and it won't.

"Today wasn't too interesting, you'd be bored.” Quinn sighed, almost like he was reliving the uneventful day he had. “Good thing you're all toasty in there.” He gave her skin a soft pat. “I’d live in here too if I could. Seems pretty nice. No bills to pay, free food, sleep whenever you want. You’re really living the dream life there, bubs."

Quinn planted another kiss to her skin, trailing pecks along until he met Y/N’s bellybutton. He smiled, letting himself relax for the first time all day as he closed his eyes and sighed as his figure sunk deeper into the mattress.

"Tonight’s game was rough.” Quinn huffed, lips curling slightly into a pout as he spoke. “No cool stories for you tonight, sorry about that. Tomorrow’s should be good, and I get to play against your uncle Trevor. That’s exciting.” His voice picked back up a spark at that, and then he felt a little kick under his palm. "You like Trevor, huh? Yeah, he's fun to pester.” Quinn laughed softly. “But you better not like him more than me. I’m cooler, funnier, and I’m way less annoying.” He rolled his eyes.

Y/N perked up at the sound of Quinn’s voice reaching her ears. She was woken up from her sleep with a tickling sensation around her body, steady breathing slowly hiccuping as she woke herself up. She felt a gentle graze on her baby bump, tickling the hairs that had grown long due to the changes her body faced. His thumb circled the swell of the stretched skin, peppering pecks along her body before planting his cheek to her belly.

"Quinn, please go to back sleep.” Y/N groaned. “It’s late, baby." But then her fingers slid into his hair, scratching gently at his scalp as he sighed softly at the feeling.

"Hey, I’m having a very important father and child bonding moment here.” Quinn insisted.

"Well, you can continue having it in the morning.” Y/N hummed and her voice lilted to a tease, barely noticeable with the sleep still lacing it but he clicked his tongue because he heard it, anyway.

"But you're even grumpier in the morning, you'll cut our time short. It’s very important to build trust and communication with your little ones if you want a healthy relationship. You should read more.” Quinn said matter-of-factly, and she almost wanted to kick him off the bed (though she was sure he wouldn’t really move if she tried).

"Our little one is gonna have chronic migraines from the womb if you keep this up.” Y/N muttered, and there was a giddy little grin across his face as she spoke, one she felt through his lips that were still pressed against her belly.

Her fingers didn’t stop gently stroking through his locks, and his palm was still rubbing slow circles against her skin. For a moment, even with an unborn child and a slightly irritated Y/N, Quinn had a picture perfect little family in his hands. One he never really thought would be his.

"I have to keep our baby updated, you know.” He murmured. “You’re too boring. They don't get fun stories all day when I’m not around."

“I don't think you're supposed to tell infants about what happens during some of those hockey games." Y/N muttered. “What if they have nightmares?"

"Can’t be worse than hearing you talk about which vegetables to get for dinner.” Quinn shrugged, chuckling lowly when she swatted at his shoulder.

Quinn wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his cheek lightly against her baby bump as he hummed in content. He couldn’t get over how beautiful she looked, how perfect her bump was and amazing she had taken to mother-hood before their baby was even here.

Tomorrow would be another day with new burdens and more uncertainties, but right here and right now, the world stopped turning for a moment and let him catch up, let him steal a moment without asking for anything in return.

"Someone has to be the responsible parent.” Y/N snorted.

"And someone has to be the cool one.” Quinn countered. One last kiss to her belly, and then he was shuffling up the mattress to be eye to eye with her now. She stared into his orbs for a moment, lingering on the slight glossiness that seemed to appear every night after he's had his routine conversation.

"At least we can say we're pretty balanced parents.” Y/N whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his jaw. He smiled, and it was watery, relieved even, but still just a little bit unsure.

"We could say we're cool ones if it weren't for you.” Quinn teased, chasing her retreating lips and pressing his firmly against them. It was a soft kiss, one that poured love into her lungs. It was the kind that seeped into her skin and melted into her bones, the same love that came in a form of another kick to her belly. "Our baby thinks I’m cool. See? They’re trying to tell you.”

Y/N huffed, reaching for his hand and placing it over her bump. She watched his eyes soften at the pressure against his palm, watching the way his lips twitched upwards as joy painted over the canvas of his face. His stare locking with hers and even if she couldn’t see the lower half of his face, she knew that Quinn was smiling brightly. 

“God, you’re so beautiful.” Quinn whispered quietly under his breath, his soft smile growing with each passing second. Almost instantly, his other hand went right to the baby bump. The warm feeling of pure love spread through his veins just at the subtle touch of her smooth, stretched skin underneath his.

Quinn has never been in love until he met Y/N. He still remembered the first time her hand fit through his and squeezed when she knew he was nervous, and now it served as his reminder to exhale. He remembered how Y/N looked in his jersey with his name written across her back for the first time and the heat in his cheeks. He remembered the tremble in his fingers when he first asked to kiss her, and he still remembered the beat in his chest when she actually said yes and how gentle her fingers felt.

Quinn was becoming softer and warmer, he realized before he was rolling his eyes at his own lovesick thoughts. But a gentle sort of realization clicked into place when he looked at her this time and he had never been so sure of anything in his life when he muttered a quick, “I love you.” He felt his world settle into place when Y/N nuzzled closer to his chest because late nights like this made Quinn thankful that the first person he ever fell in love with, was her.

“You look so beautiful, sweetheart.” Quinn repeated sweetly, each word dripping in pure adoration while he drew light shapes on her belly and locked his gaze with hers. Even after three years together, his effect on her never wore off and her cheeks heated up with blush. “I love seeing you wear my clothes, you know.” He continued, a look full of wonder and happiness painted across his face.

Y/N’s eyes widened when she remembered the only thing she was dressed in was Quinn’s button up. He almost laughed at her expression, but he was still in complete awe of her. “None of my clothes fit anymore, so I was looking in your closest and I found this shirt. It’s really comfy and oversized enough for the baby bump. Hope you don’t mind that I stole it.” She explain sheepishly, cheeks becoming rosy.

Quickly, Quinn shook his head, making his messy hair fall over his forehead. A loving smile blossomed on his lips before he leaned in to kiss her deeply. His soft lips moved with hers for a moment and the rest of the world seemed to disappear. Gently pulling away and pressing a light kiss to her forehead, his beautiful eyes met hers. Admiration was evident in his gaze and he swore he had never been more in love than right now.

“I don’t mind one bit. Not only do you look breathtaking, but I’ll never get used to seeing your belly. Our baby’s in there. I still can’t believe that.” Quinn sighed happily, kissing the baby bump as delicately as possible. “This shirt just gives me more of an excuse to love on you and your growing baby bump.”

“I love you.” Y/N mumbled quietly, unable to find anything else to properly express her feelings for the man she adored. His smile reached his eyes, nothing but joy radiating off of him, and she couldn’t believe how lucky she was.

“I love you so much more.” Quinn whispered fondly, pecking her lips again before moving to her rounded belly. “And I love you too, bubs.” He spoke to the unborn baby who already had all his love. “Only a few months until I get to meet you.” He dropped his volume barely above a whisper as if the two were hiding a secret from Y/N. “Daddy’s going to love you so much.”

His hot breath hit her skin, slightly annoying her and making Y/N want to push his face away. Regardless, a warmth spread to her chest, making her heart flutter and her eyes to well up in tears. Her sniffle caught Quinn’s attention, interrupting a monologue that he was giving about ‘accepting them no matter who they choose to be.’

It's been said before, but it bears repeating: Quinn was a natural when it came to being a lover. He’d been by Y/N’s side through every trial and tribulation life has cruelly thrown at them. He’d willingly taken her pain during grief-stricken times and selflessly shared the burden. They’ve navigated the rollercoaster years of dating and parenthood with him, all the while watching him adapt to each role with unwavering patience and grace. Witnessing him be a dad-to-be made her firmly believe it was what he was made to do. It was written in the stars.

“What’s wrong?” The quip at the end released a sob from her, increasing Quinn’s concern. “Did I do something?”

Y/N nodded profusely, embarking Quinn to sit up where she was laying her back against the headboard. His hand situated itself on her lower back, rubbing softly as her back ached more than usual these months. She covered her mouth, her tears dripping down the moist skin, mumbling incomprehensible words. 

“What’s wrong? What did I do?” Quinn asked more urgently, stretching his arm to pluck a tissue from the nightstand table, still not used to the fluctuating hormones. “I’m sorry, baby.” He apologized repeatedly, impelling Y/N to suddenly squeeze his cheeks between her hands, his mouth pinched together, thinning his words that were both comedic and endearing.

Y/N wiggled his face slowly, needing time to fully admire his handsome features and caring nature and God, she cannot believe that he was going to be the father to their little baby. 

“Y/N?” Quinn questioned with a quirked brow, cheeks still compressed between her hands but his eyes glowed in amusement. 

“You’re going to be such a good dad. Our baby is going to love you more than me and I can’t even blame them.” Y/N murmured, and the way her fingers suddenly moved from his hold to trace along the outline of his cheek bone seemed to catch him off guard, watching his eyes widen slightly, then soften at the gentleness of her touch.

Quinn cooed, his heart thumping harder at the image in his head. "Our baby.” He repeated quietly, testing the sound on his tongue as though it was new.

"All ours.” She promised, pressing one more tiny kiss to his lips before resting her head on his chest. And if she noticed there was a skip in his heartbeat, Quinn was glad she didn’t say anything. And even if he wasn’t really a man of routine, this part of his day never ceased to repeat, and he thought it was his favorite.