#vancouver canucks imagine

[gravestrain]

I don't know how to feel, but someday I might (qh43)

in which Quinn will do just about anything to help his sweet girl.

This is 2.6k words of Quinn angst/fluff. It involves his girlfriend dealing with hate comments online. There are some hurtful things said about weight and appearances. This is a fem reader, with mentions of wearing makeup and dresses. She/her pronouns are used. Felt a little down lately and wanted to cheer myself up with some sweet Quinn. I hope you all enjoy this <3

There was almost nothing in the world that was easier than loving Quinn Hughes.

With his heart of gold and smile to match it, you found yourself falling in love with him almost instantly. It would have been impossible not to. To know Quinn is to love him. You doubt that there is anyone in the world who has met Quinn and has not been mesmerized by his charm and his raw kindness. Even his toughest opponents and fiercest rivals have nothing but kind things to say about your boy.

You met Quinn three years ago while you were on a girls trip at a rented lake house in Michigan. When you first saw your neighbor for the weekend, you were so caught off guard you tripped over your own feet and spilled your drink all over your feet. Quinn was quick to throw the towel he was holding out of his hands and on to your body to help you clean up the sticky mess that was now covering your body. Never mind the fact that in a house full of lazy boys, there was no other clean towels. It was just what he wanted to do.

Over stumbled apologies and blushing words, you exchanged numbers with Quinn. Neither of you were foolish enough to hide your intentions. At this point, you had both known you were only going to be in town for the weekend, but Quinn did not care, and neither did you. Your intentions were always to continue to talk to Quinn, even after the close proximity was no longer.

And you did. It was months of Facetimes and silly texts, until finally Quinn played a game near your town. Quinn insisted you came, and when you saw him again in the tunnels after the game, you knew you would never be able to move on, and Quinn felt the same way.

The start of the new season found you moving to Vancouver with Quinn. You were able to find a job similar to yours that was only 20 minutes away from Quinn's house. The choice seemed like a no brainer. And if you thought dating Quinn was a gift, nothing could compare to living with him. He was silly and considerate, adventurous and attentive. You found yourself falling in love with him more and more each day.

You were no stranger to Quinn's spotlight. It became more and more apparent to you when you moved to Vancouver. Almost every block had a Canucks fan, Canucks memorabilia, often sporting your boyfriend's face, loud and proud.

You were no stranger to the comments that other girls would make in the stands of Canucks games, or even at the bar while you were tucked right in to Quinn's side. They found Quinn to be as beautiful and as breathtaking as you did, and they paid no mind to the fact that you were hooked on his arm, or wearing his last name across your back, or even sitting with his family. Their intentions were to be with Quinn. They did not find you as a threat. But many made it their intentions to let you know that they were a threat.

You were public on social media, but with hardly any mention of your faceless boyfriend being Quinn Hughes. However, being the captain's girlfriend had automatically put you in the public eye, despite the fact that both you and Quinn tried your hardest to keep it on the down low publicly. It was challenging for Quinn to be in the spotlight at times, even after so long of being in it, and he wanted to make sure he tried his hardest to ensure that that spotlight never graced your wings. There was so much trouble that came with it, trouble that Quinn never wanted to expose you to. Nevertheless, some fans persisted.

"This is what you wear to stand next to the captain of the Vancouver Canucks? Maybe try a little harder next time," a comment had graced your post of your outfit from a Canucks gala. Despite your insistence that Quinn didn't pay for much, it hardly ever worked. Quinn had bought you the most beautiful dress, with a price tag you could not fathom. His insistence was that he saw you eyeing it on social media from a post of a fashion show, and he wanted you to have it.

The dress instantly made you feel beautiful, and Quinn's gaze and charming words made you feel beautiful tenfold. It was almost devastating how that feeling had disappeared so fast, just by the words and actions of a few cruel individuals who had made it their life's mission to tear you down.

Just one comment wouldn't hurt so bad. Unfortunately, there was tens of comments that point out a few flyaways, the creasing of your concealer, the cellulite on your arms, the rolls of your hips. You had tried your hardest not to let them bother you. But it bubbled up inside like a bad stew. When you find the one that hurt the worst, it caused you to sink to a feeling worse than you had ever felt. The comment read: "I don't understand why Quinn would want to be with a fat girl who does not know how to present herself in public. She has no redeeming features."

You tried your hardest to hide the comments from Quinn. You knew he rarely checked social media, so you made a promise to never let him know what they said and how they bothered you. You tried to insist to yourself that it was minuscule, it shouldn't matter. But the state Quinn found you in when he returned from his road trip was nothing but minuscule. It was no position he had ever found you in.

When Quinn FaceTimed you two nights ago after their game in Anaheim, you were wearing one of his Canucks blue t shirts, curled up in bed with your dog. When he walked through your bedroom doors, he found you in the same place, wearing the same t shirt, sporting the same hairstyle. His heart sunk to his toes. Were you hurt? How could he help you? What caused you to get into this state?

When he found you, your eyes were closed, but he knew you weren't sleeping. You had your head intentionally turned towards the wall, so as to not face Quinn. But even without seeing your face, he knew something was seriously wrong. And at that point, all he wanted was to see your beautiful face, to give him a little reassurance as to how you were feeling.

Quinn rounded the corner of the bed, kneeling down on the floor next to your head. "Hi sweetness," he muttered, running his fingers down the slope of your face. "Can I see your eyes, please?" He asked, causing you to shake your head lightly. He hummed at your answer, not wanting to push, but also knowing he had to get to the bottom of this.

"I brought you some takeout, your favorite. I know you have that project due in a few days and I figured you would be hungry." He had left the food on the table downstairs when he walked in to a silent house. No singing to music, no clambering of kitchen cabinets, no playing with the dog, nothing. The silence was eerie to him.

"I'm not," you muttered out in your smallest voice, cracking from lack of use, and even lack of water in your throat. You had a few sips over the last two days, but once it ran out, you couldn't get yourself to fill it. One of the only things you could manage to do the past two days was let the dog out. No matter how bad you were suffering, your sweet dog did not deserve to be punished for that. You let him out in the backyard only, not wanting anyone to see you walking on the sidewalk and be alerted by your state. There were a few other WAGs who lived in yours and Quinn's neighborhood, and at any sight of your despair, you know Quinn would have been alerted immediately.

"I'd like it if you could eat a little bit, though. I'm sure you're hungry, and your voice sounds dry. Can I fill your cup for you?" He posed it as a question, but he intended to fill it regardless of your answer. You shrugged, and Quinn took that as a win. He woke up your dog, assuming he had to go out. He journeyed downstairs and filled your cup. He also just let the dog out in the back, but promised a long walk in the morning. He only hoped you would come. It was something the two of you loved to do, walking the dog together after he came back from road trips.

As Quinn stood outside, the cold air biting at his shoulders, he tried to rack his brain of what could have possibly happened while he was gone. Did he forget something important? Did you miss a deadline? Did something happen at home? Nothing seemed to make sense, even when he tried to make sense of them.

Your dog was nothing if not loyal, so as soon as Quinn opened the door to let him back in, he bolted up the stairs to the bedroom, nosing his way through the door and back on to the bed with you. You put your hands in his fur, hoping to find some comfort in him. Silent tears streamed down your face. You saw the look on Quinn's face when he walked in to you. In a way, you were letting the trolls win even more. Quinn didn't deserve to come home to someone who couldn't get out of bed. At least, that's what the voices in your head were telling you.

Quinn walked quickly back up the stairs, but with less energy than your dog. He set your cup down on the bedside table, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand rubbing your calf over the blankets. He knew at some point you would tell him what's wrong. He didn't want to force it out of you, but at the same time, Quinn had been alerted to the fact that you had not left the bed in days. He was concerned.

Your sniffle gave you away, not pretending to hide. Quinn knew you were struggling, and there was no point in trying to hide your mood. "Why are you crying, lovely? I'd really like to help you, but I'm not sure how," he muttered, leaning in to softly wipe your tears away. "It's nothing, I should be able to handle it by now." you muttered, hinting him to what was wrong without giving away any details.

"Handle what, babe? The roadtrips? I know they're hard. They're hard for me, too. I promise you're not alone in that." Your heart softened at his kind voice, at his genuine concern. Of course the roadtrips were hard, and in a way it helped to know that they were hard for him too, but you knew that wasn't what was bothering you.

You shook your head lightly, curling in further on yourself. At this point, Quinn was even more confused, but he knew that you weren't going to budge. "I'm just gonna get ready for bed, okay sweetheart? We can talk more in a minute," he went to get ready, and also to collect himself and his thoughts.

When he walked into the en suite bathroom, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Brock's girlfriend had texted him. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He had her number for a reason, but they obviously didn't text much individually.

"Hi Quinn, sorry to bother you so late," it started. "I was a bit worried about Y/N these past few days because she went radio silent over the weekend. We were supposed to have plans over the weekend, but she bailed with pretty much no explanation. So I did some digging on social media, and I found some pretty nasty comments on her most recent posts. I know people sometimes make comments to her at games, but these comments are new. I just wanted to let you know in case that was what was bothering her."

Quinn couldn't believe his eyes. These were some of the most hateful things he had ever read. And he had no idea they were saying things at games. He noticed that you started caring more but also less simultaneously somehow. She did much more hair and makeup than usual, while also covering her body entirely, almost drowning herself in her clothes.

Quinn was horrified. How long have you been dealing with this? Why didn't you say anything? Quinn couldn't get back to the bedroom fast enough. He rushed over to the bed, pulling you into a hug immediately. He felt your tears soaking his shirt, and Quinn had tears streaming steadily down his cheeks. "Why didn't you say anything? I'm so sorry, I love you," he whispered into your neck.

"I didn't want to bother you. I thought I should be able to deal with it by now. The jealousy, the mean girls. But it has gotten worse. They've been truly evil. I tried not to let it bother me, but I couldn't help it." You didn't want to remove yourself from Quinn's embrace. It was the first time you felt comfort in days.

"My love, you are never a bother. I'm appalled of these things they're saying, I can't believe you've been dealing with this in silence. No one deserves this, especially not you, my sweet girl." He coaxed you slowly to look him in the eyes, but you were still touching at almost every nerve ending.

"You are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he murmured, running his finger across your cheek. "And above all that, you're kind, loving, caring, empathetic, selfless, giving, and so many other amazing things. You are none of those things they say about you, okay? I'm so sorry, my angel. I know I can't fix it, but I want to. Tomorrow, we're gonna spend the whole day together, okay? And I'm gonna pamper you like you've always deserved. I'm so sorry that you've been going through this. I'm gonna fix it. I'm gonna make a statement, we can limit comments to friends only, make a separate, more private account. Whatever you want, baby. I just want this to be fixed and I want you to be okay. You don't deserve to suffer like this because of some evil, hateful people."

You knew Quinn would be helpful and caring if he ever found out about this, but you never expected all of this. You were exhausted and thrilled just thinking about everything. You had let those hateful people bring you down for so long, now you just wanted to be with your sweet boy.

"Can we do all that tomorrow? I just want to be with you. And I lied, I'm starving, I can smell the food from downstairs and I'm practically salivating," Quinn laughed out loud, causing you to smile for the first time in days. "There's my angel, I love you so much. We can do whatever you want, okay? Anything, my treat. Whatever you want. You deserve that damn food, okay? And everything else in the world, I love you so much."

Tears had begun to stream down your face for a different reason. You couldn't believe how lucky you were to have such a sweet, caring, and thoughtful man to have and to hold.

"I love you, Quinn. Thank you so much," you mumbled with watery eyes. When he leaned in and connected your lips with his, you knew you would get through this. Yes, their words still hurt. It wasn't fixed for good, it wasn't perfect, but you knew as long as you had Quinn by your side, you could make it through anything.

#Quinn hughes #qh43 #Quinn hughes imagine #Quinn hughes x reader #Quinn hughes x fem!reader #hughes brothers #nhl imagine #Vancouver Canucks imagine #elle's writing

[hockeybabe]

could u do a fic where all the boys are at the lake house and u and quinn are making out in the kitchen or like on a counter and one of the boys walk in

Sneak Away | Q.Hughes

Not my Gif

Pairings: Quinn Hughes x gf!reader

Summary: the one moment you and Quinn get away from the group you take serious advantage of it.

Warnings: swearing, heavy make out session, getting caught, luke being scared, Michigan boys hyping you up

Word count: 476

Note: short story but in honour of Quinn becoming captain a captain Quinn is coming soon!!! Also I will be doing kinktober so put some request on my page for any hockey players you want.

Luke, Jack, Quinn, and the Michigan boys were at the lake house celebrating Luke's signing with New Jersey and him scoring his first goal. It was an exciting weekend of partying, but as much as you were having fun, you also wanted some alone time with Quinn, as he did too.

The boys constantly teased Quinn about only wanting time with you, and it got to the point where they’d make sexual jokes where you would blush and hide while Quinn smirked or looked at you. Quinn and you were always with each other, connected by the hip, and always wanting some sort of physical touch, but this weekend you couldn’t be more apart.

It felt as if the boys were trying to see how long you two would last without each other before one of you said something. But you both were stubborn. As of now, you were at the pool table watching Quinn as he played against Jack, and the rest of the boys were roaming around and having their own fun.

"You ain’t got shit Q." Jack called out, as Quinn only needed to get the 8-ball. You felt yourself getting bored as the boys tried to get in Quinn’s head. "I’ll be in the kitchen." You whispered into your boyfriend's ear, trailing your finger across his back. Quinn watched you the entire time, causing him to hit the 8-ball in a total different direction, making him miss.

The boys got riled up, pushing Quinn back and forth for messing up as Jack had the opportunity to win. With one push, Quinn was able to get away and swerve through people and to the kitchen, where you were sitting on the counter staring at Quinn. "Look who came around." You say, wrapping your arms around his shoulder as he nestled between your legs.

"I couldn't leave my girl all alone." Quinn says, grabbing your chin and tilting your head up. Your eyes quickly scan the room before looking back at Quinn and smashing your lips together. The kiss was heated, and it quickly turned into a heavy make-out session. Quinn’s hands travelled down your sides and all the way to your back, pulling you closer to his bulge.

You moaned into the kiss, running your hands under his shirt and feeling his warmth. "Such a needy girl." He muttered into your mouth, dragging his thumb over your lips, before you took his thumb in your mouth and started sucking. Quinn’s eyes filled with lust as he watched you do something you’d never done before.

"Wow guys! Get a fucking room!" Luke yelled, and as you two looked to the side, you saw the entire Michigan team cheering, some looking awkward while others just smiled. "Get it, Quinny!" One of the boys yelled, and Quinn simply smirked as you hid your head in his chest.

#hockey #hockey players #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #imagine #nhl smut #fluff #quinn hughes #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fluff #vancouver canucks #vancouver canucks imagine #captain #hughes brothers #luke hughes #michigan

[misshoneyimhome]

Say My Name, Say My Name I Quinn Hughes 🖋️🌺

Requested? Yes / No

Summary; Based on the Tik Tok trend, calling your boyfriend “husband”

Tropes & warnings; established relationship; Tik Tok trend; fluff, marriage proposal; no warnings;

Other notes: For the second story of this TikTok trend, I've challenged myself with writing for Quinn Hughes for the first time 😊 To be honest, I didn't know much about him to fully capture his character, however, this is pretty much how sweet I imagine this boy to be 🤭🤍 Since I had a few different ideas of how to approach the request, this turned out to be nothing but pure fluff 🌺🥂

I hope you enjoy it 🌷🐰

Word count; 1.6K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

As the sun dipped low, casting a gentle glow over the bustling streets of Vancouver, you strolled alongside your boyfriend, Quinn Hughes. The city buzzed with its usual activity, providing a comforting backdrop to your conversation on this typical Thursday evening. And with the promise of a hockey-free weekend on the horizon, a mischievous idea had crept into your mind – sparked by a popular TikTok challenge that had been gaining traction online.

In recent weeks, you'd seen numerous videos of people teasingly calling their boyfriends "husbands," while recording their partners' bewildered reactions for entertainment. And intrigued by the trend, you couldn't resist the urge to try it out with Quinn.

After nearly three years of shared laughter and cherished moments in your relationship, you were confident that Quinn would find the prank amusing, perhaps even earning a reaction with a hint of panic. So, with a playful glint in your eye, you had naturally shared your plan with your closest friend, enlisting her help in pulling off the light-hearted prank.

As you’d proposed the idea, your friend, always up for TikTok trends, had eagerly agreed to assist. You’d decided on arranging a double date, which wouldn’t be out of the ordinary, planning for you to execute the prank while she would discreetly film Quinn's reaction.

So, as you sat in a cosy, almost half-empty restaurant later that Thursday evening, the weight of your impending prank began to settle in. Excitement and nerves mingled in your chest, your fingers tapping restlessly on the tabletop as you waited for the perfect moment to put your plan into action.

And finally, the moment arrived, hanging in the air with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. As the waiter approached to take your orders, a surge of anxious energy coursed through you, your heart racing. Yet, with practiced ease, you smoothly transitioned into the pivotal moment. "And for my husband," you said, injecting a playful tone into your voice, "he'll have a glass of ice water and the pasta Bolognese."

The words hung in the air, a silent challenge to fate, while your best friend discreetly positioned her phone, ready to capture Quinn's genuine reaction.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment as Quinn's gaze shifted towards you, his expression a fleeting mix of surprise and curiosity. "Your what?" he murmured, his voice barely audible, yet you persisted, ignoring the amusement threatening your facade of confidence.

In that suspended moment, Quinn's initial reaction was genuine astonishment, his eyes widening in disbelief before a soft chuckle broke the tension like a gentle wave against the shore. 

And as the waiter then walked away following taking all orders, he left behind echoes of laughter. Quinn then leaned closer towards you; his tone laced with mock seriousness. "Husband, huh?" he mused, a playful smirk on his lips. "Guess I'll need to update my resume."

It hadn’t entirely been the shocked reaction you’d hoped for, yet you still found the situation undeniably amusing. Confessing the inspiration behind your jest, laughter filled the air. And as the night wore on, your little act slowly faded in the background.

However, unbeknownst to you, the innocent prank had sparked an idea in Quinn's mind.

Although he hadn’t exactly expected to consider such a significant step already at the age of 24, the notion lingered, intriguing and compelling. As the eldest among his brothers and in his most serious relationship yet, Quinn had pondered the concept for some time. He’d even briefly sought advice from his closest teammates on how to broach the subject, as he’d realised life was too short to wait for the perfect moment.

So, as he sat beside you, enveloped in shared laughter, he felt a newfound determination. With quiet resolve and a heart full of affection, he began laying the groundwork for a significant occasion, one that would hopefully change your relationship for the better.

A little over a week later, with the memory of your playful prank still fresh in his mind, Quinn found himself beyond excited and content about the idea. With determination coursing through him and a ring burning a silent promise in his pocket, he’d devised a plan.

His aim was to catch you off guard, to make the moment as unexpected as possible. And having noticed how you had emphasised the prank was nothing but a joke, he guessed your mind hadn’t dwelled on such matters. Which made it the perfect opportunity.

So, returning to the very same restaurant Saturday evening where the idea had originated, Quinn carefully arranged the setting for the action. Despite the absence of a best friend discreetly recording the scene, the familiar ambiance of the restaurant's softly lit interior and the intimate corner table added a serene touch to the occasion. So with a steady hand and a heart brimming with love, Quinn recreated the scene.

As the waiter approached to take your orders, he took a deep breath, and with a voice filled with emotion, he echoed your words from days prior, "And for my wife, she'll have a glass of Champagne along with some water and the cheese, spinach ravioli, please."

Your eyes widened a little in slight disbelief as the words lingered in the air, blending with the gentle buzz of conversation around you, and a chuckle escaped your lips of amusement at Quinn's unexpected play. You simply couldn’t help but laugh at the joke and how he replicated your playful tease from the other night with such precision.

“Wife, huh?” You chuckled lightly. “Guess I deserved that one - though I do enjoy the sound of it.”

However, this time, it wasn't a prank. As the waiter departed, leaving behind a soft smile, your eyes met with Quinn’s, flashing him an entertained smile. Yet there was a seriousness in your boyfriend’s expression, a rare sight outside of the intensity of a hockey match, and a curious furrow creased your brow as you couldn’t decipher his thoughts. But before you could ask him what was on his mind, Quinn gently rose from his seat, moving with deliberate grace to stand next to you.

“I’m glad you say that ‘cause…”

You shifted in your seat to face him, the air crackled with anticipation as he then slowly dropped to one knee, the world around you fading into insignificance, leaving only the man you loved, poised before you with a vulnerability that stole your breath away.

Your heart pounded in your chest as Quinn gently took out the little velvet box from his pocket, his brown eyes shining with an intensity that mirrored his deep emotions. 

“Y/n," he softly began. "I know you said it as a joke the other night, but... truth be told, it stuck with me. And I realised that… I do want to be your called husband. You mean everything to me. Without you, I'd be lost – even though I don't tell you enough, you make my every day brighter. I can't even begin to thank you enough for your endless support, for putting up with me and my career every single day. You never ask for anything, and yet you give so much love. I love you so so much, and I just can't imagine a future without you in it..."

With every heartfelt confession, your breath hitched in your throat, your mind swirling with the weight of his sentiments. Emotions surged within you, threatening to overflow as Quinn exposed his soul, sharing his fears and dreams for your future together.

And then came the question, hanging in the air like a fragile promise—a question that held the power to shape your lives forever.

"Y/n, will you marry me?"

It felt surreal, like a dream woven from the threads of your deepest desires and fondest hopes. Quinn on his knee before you, his vulnerability a testament to the depth of his love. And in that moment, tears glistening in your eyes, and a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, there was only one right answer.

Though struggling to find the words, you willed your lips to move and your throat to vocalise the response.

"Yes... Quinn, of course," you replied with excitement, the sound of soft applauses rippling through the restaurant. And with a deep relieved sigh, and a satisfied smile illuminating his face, Quinn rose from his kneeling position, meeting you in a deep, heartfelt kiss. 

Sealing the engagement your lips met with nothing but devotion, the world around you slowly dissolving, before breaking apart. Quinn's excitement was nothing short of palpable, his smile radiant as he carefully slipped the ring onto your finger, and he couldn’t deny that this felt better than any hockey match win. Perhaps besides winning the Stanley Cup. 

It was truly a beautiful ring. The diamond's shimmer mirrored the twinkle in his eyes as you admired the ring's delicate intricacies. And with a content smile, you shared another quick kiss before Quinn returned to his seat, and the waiter poured champagne to mark the occasion.

Raising your glasses in a toast, you again sealed the engagement with a clink, the bubbles dancing against your lips like promises of a future filled with love and joy. This moment was everything you had ever dreamed of. Though it had begun with a playful joke, it perfectly captured the essence of your relationship—full of laughter, love, and shared moments of joy.

And with your hands gently intertwined on the table, both admiring the new addition to your finger, you couldn't help but chuckle. "Looks like I really do need to update my resume," you playfully remarked, echoing Quinn's words from the other night.

And in response, your fiancé merely chuckled, his eyes brimming with adoration as he kissed your hand and held your gaze with unwavering affection. "Yes, I suppose you’ll have to," he smiled, his voice filled with promise and a love that knew no bounds.

#quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #vancouver canucks imagine #nhl imagine

[lvrhughes]

You Are In Love | Q. Hughes

1989 tv masterlist

pairing: Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: none?

summary: You and Quinn fall in love, and he realizes.

not my gif!

“Quinn!” His entrance had been welcomed quickly by the team, fellow cheers of ‘Captain’ and ‘Cap’ filled the space. His team surrounds his entrance, pushing you to the back of the crowd. 

The lights in the room had been dimmed over the night, most of the light emitting from the TV playing whatever show Nils had picked. His eyes caught yours, seeing the way they lit up as he saw you. One look meant for you. 

The night went too fast, missing the large crowd of rowdy Nhl players quickly as the number lessened. Nearly half the team had left before you even got the chance to get close to Quinn, three players passed out on the couch as you cut through Brock’s living room to reach. 

“Hi Quinny.” Your voice was soft, walking into his open arms. 

“Hi baby.” He returned, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head. Baby. He had always called you that, no one knew why, no one cared enough to find out. 

“I’m going, thought I’d say goodnight.” You mumbled, arms around his torso while his rested around your shoulders. 

“Goodnight, baby, see you tomorrow?”

“Coffee at midnight?” The offer stood unanswered for a second before he nodded, a smile on his lips at the thought. 

“Baby, baby wake up.” Quinn’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, peppering your face in kisses between his words.

“What?” Your voice was rough, filled with confusion, as you stared back at Quinn. 

“It’s midnight coffee time.” He urged, his arms reaching around you to pull you up, pressing you against his chest. 

“It’s midnight? I fell asleep, oh no.” The sadness that covered your face at the thought that you weren’t waiting and ready for Quinn broke him, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. 

“Baby it’s okay, you’re up now and we’ll go.” 

You nodded at his words, stretching your arms before getting up, moving from your spot on your couch while Quinn followed. Slipping your shoes on before grabbing your keys, letting Quinn lead the way out to his car before you slid into the passenger seat. 

“You want aux?” The question was almost rhetorical, you always took aux, simply nodding at him before taking it. 

Your music playing, allowing the two of you to sing along quietly, often interrupted with small talk. He drives slow, carefully, his eyes drifting from the road every so often to caught a glimpse of you. 

The 24 hour diner was your favorite place, Quinn having introduced you to it when he first moved to Vancouver, showing up at your place once offering midnight coffee, which would soon become a tradition. 

The light reflected on the chain you wore, shining onto the roof of the diner in gorgeous patterns, catching Quinn’s attention. His view left his coffee, staring at the roof now while you stirred yours. 

“Look up.” He urged, making you look up to see the patterns. 

“It’s so amazing, something so little can make something so big and pretty.” Your voice was quiet simply admiring the dancing shapes, Quinn’s gaze drifting to you instead now. 

The ride home was quiet, drifting in and out of sleep in Quinn’s passenger seat, him making the choice to take you to his instead. Carefully carrying you in, placing you on his bed before you woke. 

“Quinny? I can’t sleep in this.” Your voice was filled with sleep, his heart melting at the sound. 

“Here, put these on baby.” He encouraged, placing one of his t-shirts and a pair of shorts you had left once in front of you. “I’ll be waiting outside, call me in when you’re done.” 

You were quick to change, discarding your current clothes in a corner of his room before curling back into his bed, calling out for him.

“Well don’t you look comfy?” He joked, climbing into his spot beside you, letting your curl into him. 

“Shit.” Quinn’s cursing was heard from the bedroom, making you giggle as you woke, smelling the cause of his fit. 

The burnt toast that lay on the counter, Quinn’s messy handwritten note beside saying he was running out to get breakfast, leaving you to return into your clothes from before yet keeping his shirt. 

The view of him walking back catching your attention, running out to the sidewalk to greet him, wrapping your arms around him quickly. The quickly movements leaving him to barely grasp the food, almost dropping it before catching it again, your body shaking with laughter as you saw. 

“Smooth Quinn. You giggled, watching him roll his eyes. 

“I wouldn't have almost dropped them if you didn’t run into me!” he argued, his eyes gleaming proving his false anger. 

His movements were so fast you barely knew what was happening as his lips met with yours, melting into his as he dropped the food to the sidewalk. His arms wrapping your waist, your hands trailing through his hair.

“We should go in.” The words were muffled against your lips, his fingers rubbing circles on your hips as he spoke, pressing against your lips after. 

“Mhm.” nodding, pulling away from his kiss for him to chase, his hands pulling you close again. 

“Quinn!” The shout of his name coursed through laughter, seeing the smile raise on his face. 

“Fine, fine, we’ll go.” He spoke, reaching for the food that laid on the ground before taking your hand to drag you inside. 

“Quinn you know I can’t.” the sigh that came out urging Quinn to roll his eyes, shaking his head. 

“I knew you’d say that, I just need you and you can’t.” 

“Quinn-” 

“No, I’m leaving.” 

“Don’t leave.” His movements halted, his body that had been turned towards the door, carrying his bag to leave with, stopped. The tears the covered your waterline threatened to spill over, the sight alone when Quin turned was enough to drop him to his knees. 

His knees hit the ground before he knew what he was doing, your body following in suite to sit with him, wrapped in his arms. 

“I’m so sorry Baby, it’s stupid I was overreacting.” The words flowed from his mouth without stop, his constant apologies slipping into your hair as he pressed his face into the top of your head. 

“Quinny it’s okay.” 

His rambles continued, the various attempts to stop his speech failing. Pressing a kiss to his lips instead, his words dying as he melted into the kiss. 

“Let’s go to bed now.” You encouraged, threading your hands through his hair once more before moving. He followed quickly, his bag discarded by the door while he followed you to his bedroom. 

His body was quick to follow yours falling into the bed, pulling you into his arms in an instant. Peppering kisses along your face as you giggled, the smile on his face only growing as you leaned in to kiss him. 

Sleep overcame you both in minutes, Quinn holding you against him throughout the night. It wasn’t until three am when Quinn woke, his movements waking you. 

A strange look on his face, his grip reaching out for you again, holding you against him still. He paused, staring at you. 

“You’re my best friend.” 

You know what it was, he is in love. 

You can hear it in the silence.

You can feel it on the way home.

You can see it with the light out.

You are in love.

#mads writings! #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #nhl imagine #vancouver canucks imagine

[ilyasorokinn]

could i also request a blurb with quinn hughes?? maybe something about the first time you see him on the ice with the c on his jersey? or a surprise/whatever you want to write works too!

NEW PATCHES

i love this idea! thanks bre *muah*

tw: children/kids (nephew)

it was no secret your little nephew loved your boyfriend. theo loved quinn, and it was no surprise why. quinn was like the cooler older brother he didn't have (who was way older than him, but still).

quinn took theo to games, taught him to play hockey, and was theo's show-and-tell object, which definitely got him some brownie points with his friends. and when you were in town, theo's favorite thing quinn did was pick him up in his cool car and they could get ice cream afterward.

when quinn was announced as the new captain, your sister sent you a video of theo running around the house excitedly, talking a mile a minute about what he would do when he saw quinn the next time.

so, your sister made sure theo was in town for quinn's first game. you got theo a little jersey for theo with the new 'c' patch on the front, a gift quinn had yet to see.

after dropping quinn off at rogers, you quickly drove over to the hotel your sister and her family were staying out. you were greeted with your sister, brother-in-law, and of course, theo.

you jumped out of the car and greeted them, before turning your attention to theo, "so, little man, i have a surprise for you. it's more so a surprise for uncle q, but it's a present for you." as you suspected, theo perked up at the word present.

"present?" you led him to the trunk of your car and pulled the little jersey out of the bag, "wow." his eyes went wide.

"y/n..." your sister and brother-in-law breathed out when they saw the jersey in their son's hands.

"please don't worry. it's my job as an aunt to spoil him." you smiled, nudging her, "plus, there's something new, which is a surprise for uncle q." you turned the jersey around so he could see the new 'c' patch, "what does the c stand for, theo?"

"captain!" he cheered.

"that's right." you gave him a high-five, "now, are you ready to kick some oilers butt?"

"yeah!" theo cheered.

"all right!" you cheered, helping him into the car seat while your sister and brother-in-law got into the other seats.

after getting to the arena, you gave your sister and brother-in-law your seats, then went down to the ice and waited for warm-ups to start.

"are you so excited, theo?" theo nodded his head, the biggest smile on his face you'd ever seen. you heard cheers and looked up at the jumbotron, smiling when you saw yourself and theo on the big screen, "look." you pointed up to the screen.

theo looked up and smiled bashfully when he saw himself on the screen. when the camera moved onto someone else, theo turned back, to you, his eyes wide, "that was so cool, aunty y/n." he beamed.

a few minutes later, the boys skated out and the crowd cheered louder than you'd ever heard them. you watched quinn appear on the jumbotron, smiling to yourself. he spotted you waiting by the family section of the glass. he knew theo there, so he made sure to grab a puck before he skated over.

he practically skidded to a halt when you noticed the 'c' patched onto theo's new little jersey. he looked over at you, wide-eyed, and you showed him the same 'c' patch on your denim jacket. you thought he was gonna cry in that moment but he, instead, turned to theo and tossed the puck over.

theo jumped up and down as he clutched the puck to his chest. quinn smiled and gave him a fist bump through the glass. you posed for a few pictures that would probably be posted to every canucks social media account, before giving quinn one more good luck fist bump and making your way to your seat.

you did shed a couple tears when quinn was handed the jersey with the 'c' on it, and you took a million pictures because you were a proud girlfriend. plus, the canucks didn't just kick oilers butt, but they also wiped the floor with them. it was a pretty good season opener.

after the game, you held theo's hand the entire way down to the tunnel while your sister and brother-in-law walked behind you, smiling as theo recapped the entire game as if you weren't sitting next to him.

when quinn came out, theo left you in the dust and sprinted over to him and jumped into his arms. much like he had done to you, theo began recapping the entire game.

theo refused to be carried by anyone other than quinn, so quinn carried him to the car, you by his side. after dropping your family off at their hotel, you and quinn drove around a little, not wanting to go home quite yet.

"that was a pretty good game, captain." you smiled over at him.

"it was pretty good." he smiled back, giving your hand a squeeze as you continued to drive. the rest of the ride was pretty quiet but it was nice. just you and quinn, driving through the city after a canucks win, quinn's first as captain.

yeah, things were good.

taylor's tumblr-versary!

#quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes imagines #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurbs #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl blurbs #nhl #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fic #hockey blurbs #hockey #nhl fic #vancouver canucks imagine #vancouver canucks imagines #vancouver canucks fic #vancouver canucks blurbs #vancouver canucks #taylor writes #taylor writes: hockey #taylor's tumblr-versary

[starry-hughes]

carried away

quinn hughes x tkachuk sister!reader

warnings: hints at smut but not actual smut

summary: after years of knowing one another, quinn and you finally find love at your brother’s wedding

navigation

Quinn Hughes was a figure in your life for years. You practically grew up with him. He was teammates with your brother, Brady, who was only a year older than you. Both of your brothers were amazing hockey players and Quinn was as well. You didn’t get to attend school with Brady or Quinn, Brady had moved away to go play with the NTDP team. Matthew had done the same.

With two older brothers in the NHL and being the daughter of a former NHL player, it was easy to say that you had enough hockey boys in your life. But every summer, you find yourself surrounded by them. Your summers were spent at the lake house owned by the Hughes family. Your parents always visited after the school year ended, you and your sister in tow. Sometimes, Taryn opted out due to her having her own plans and friends for the summer.

That’s when you met Quinn. Both of you probably wanted to ignore what awkward and cringey look you two sported at the time. Quinn never looked at you as more than Brady’s younger sister.

As time went along and you grew up, Quinn would see photos of you on social media, maybe you’d be at a game once in a while or at dinner afterwards. But every photo he saw of you, you just got more beautiful. And every dinner he sat across the table from you, he couldn’t help but look at you as you laughed at something one of your brothers said or did.

There was one time, last year, December 2022, after Brady and Emma had been engaged, when you had gone to see Matthew play against Vancouver. You didn’t know what came over you, but you had texted Quinn. Quinn was not used to random texts from you. It was mainly birthday texts or random pictures that popped up in a Snapchat memory.

“I’m in Vancouver for the game, dinner tonight?”

Before responding to your text, Quinn thought about it. He was never one to have an attraction to a friend’s sister. But he had to admit that you were beautiful. You were no longer just Brady’s younger sister. You were just you.

He agreed to dinner and after the game, which ended in a loss, he asked if Matthew was joining. “He declined to join,” you informed Quinn. Matthew was busy celebrating the win against the Canucks. Plus, you were practically traveling with the team for the week, you had seen enough of Matthew.

It was an awkward dinner at first and then it came to a normal conversation, chatting about how things had been and how you were doing. The conversation fell to the wedding. “I think Emma is going to ask Taryn and I to be in the wedding at Christmas,” you took a swig of your glass of wine.

“Brady already asked me to be in it,” Quinn almost bragged. “Well at least we can be hopeful to be paired up to walk down the aisle. At least I know you won’t let me trip.”

-

Quinn didn’t really hear from you again until the week of the wedding. Your parents were high strung, trying to make sure Brady had the perfect wedding. Matthew and you had been passing a bottle of vodka between the two of you all night when Quinn arrived with his family.

“Matthew, (Y/N), always lovely to see you!” Ellen and Jim Hughes greeted. “How drunk are you?” Quinn leaned over and asked. “I had to deal with the wedding stress somehow,” you laughed.

“And you aren’t even the bride,” Quinn teased.

“Not this time,” you mumbled.

The next coming days were a blur. At the rehearsal dinner, you were paired with Quinn. “Make sure my sister doesn’t fall Hughes!” Matthew warned, slightly overprotective as Quinn held out his arm for you. You couldn’t help but stifle your laughter as Quinn tensed up for a second but relaxed when you leaned over to whisper to him.

“Don’t pay attention to him, he won’t do anything unless he catches us kissing or something.”

At the rehearsal dinner, Taryn got to make her speech. Brady had asked Matthew and you to do one tomorrow at the actual wedding. Throughout the whole rehearsal dinner, all you could do was stare at Quinn. Maybe it was the wine.

The next day was the actual wedding and you didn’t see much of Quinn. The girls were talking in the bridal party area as everyone got their hair done. “What about you (Y/N)? Anyone special in your life?” Emma’s cousin asked.

Your face felt hot. “No, not really.”

Quinn almost froze when he saw you for the first time right before the wedding started. “You look, uh, beautiful,” he stuttered out. “Thanks Quinn, you clean up nice too.” You adjusted his boutonniere to be straighter.

After the ceremony, you were dragged over to the open bar by Josh Norris. He was talking to you about needing to get breakfast with you tomorrow, saying he missed you. You didn’t allow yourself to get too drunk until after your speech.

After your speech, your face was warm and red. The open bar at the wedding was being used to your advantage. Your wine glass never seemed to become empty. You were tired of talking to your parents or family members. Brady was too enamored by Emma to come to talk to you, you couldn’t blame him though. It was his wedding and your non sister-in-law looked beautiful. You ended up at Table 8, visiting with the boys. “Wanna go on a walk Quinn? I need fresh air.” you asked lowly.

Quinn walked you outside, his arm looped in yours. You had been drinking wine most of the night. Maybe it was the alcohol talking or maybe it was feelings that had never come to light after years of knowing one another.

The two of you paused, looking out at the night sky where the ceremony had been held. Quinn looked over at you as you spoke softly about the day. His eyes flickered down to your lips. “Quinn, you okay?” you whispered. You wanted him to kiss you badly.

“We should go back before I do something Brady kills me for,” Quinn whispered, lips hovering above yours.

“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him,” you spoke softly.

-

A knock on Quinn’s door woke him up. Most of the family and wedding party were all staying in the same hotel. Quinn scrambled out of bed, glad that he at least had boxers on. He was barely awake when he cracked open the door.

Matthew stood there. “Sorry to wake you, have you seen (Y/N)? Brady and Emma leave in an hour and my parents want some send off from us.”

“I haven’t seen her since last night, sorry,” Quinn said tiredly. “It’s cool, I’ll check with Josh, I think they said something about getting breakfast together last night.”

Quinn shut the door and took a deep breath. You had woken up at the first knock but didn’t make a movement when your older brother was at the door. As soon as you heard the door lock shut, you threw the blankets off of your head.

You wore Quinn’s dress shirt as a nightgown. Your hair was no longer neat and your bridesmaid dress was draped on the back of the chair in the room. Your shoes were kicked off in minutes last night but you were nervous about getting the dress ruined so Quinn had stopped his actions last night to drape the dress on the back of the chair instead of crumbled on the ground, before returning to you in bed.

“Do you think he knew I was in here?”

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #nhl imagine #vancouver canucks imagine #canucks imagine #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fanfiction

[got-pucks]

sports betting gone right? || quinn hughes

summary: in which quinn hughes is completely infatuated with you and will do anything just to get more of you

warnings: none! :)

note: to the anon who requested this, i did make a slight change to your request, but i totally hope that you don’t mind :)

Much to his dismay, Quinn had been in New Jersey to help his family with moving Luke into his apartment with Jack. Luke hadn't fully moved into New Jersey during the playoff season, as he wouldn't have been there for very long. The family thought the best option was to move the essentials such as a bed, nightstand, and some clothing at first and then whatever Luke felt he might need later on.

Quinn hadn’t seen the point in needing the whole family, especially with all the different moving companies that could have done all the work instead. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he would rather be anywhere else, frustrated with all the different directions being shouted at everyone. Quinn had always felt that he was pretty easygoing and was chill with most things, but even this was a lot for him.

After a few hours of bickering between the brothers and a couple of stern looks from Ellen, everything that Luke could have possibly needed for the upcoming season was moved into the apartment. The family decided to go to a local street fair to see the different vendors and food stalls that were there. 

As the family was walking up and down the street Quinn was looking anywhere but straight ahead. His mind was wandering, thinking about all the things he needed to do in preparation for the upcoming season. Next thing he knew he felt himself knocking into someone, causing him to grunt and fall straight onto his ass. 

Quinn could hear his brothers snickering about him being an idiot while heat rose to his face as he quickly tried to stand back up. As soon as he was back on his feet and facing the person he ran into, Quinn swore he almost fell over again, coming face to face with you, one of the most beautiful people he has laid his eyes on. He felt completely enamored by all your features wanting to take everything about you in.

“Don’t mind my brother,” he heard Jack say before he could even mumble out an apology, “he can be more than kind of a dumbass sometimes.” 

Quinn turned to give Jack a mouthful when he heard you laugh, “Oh Jack, don’t be so mean to your family. That's your brother you're talking about!” 

Quinn watched with his mouth agape as he saw you and Jack hugged each other. He introduced you to his family, explaining how you had met through a mutual friend during his rookie year. You had apparently helped Jack a lot, teaching him how to cook a few basic meals and survive on his own. 

Suddenly, Quinn felt himself pushing himself closer to you letting out an apology about how bad he felt for not paying attention and then quite literally running into you. You laughed even more at Quinn, making him think to himself that he could hear that sound forever. Not thinking much, Quinn blurts out an invitation to join his family while they walk around looking at the different vendors. Thankfully, you accepted the offer.

You and Quinn had spent that time hitting it off, which turns out that the two of you had many similar interests. By the end of the night, Quinn felt like he had known you for years. Feeling like he hadn't had enough of you, he had asked if he could take you to dinner sometime.

“You know, hockey players aren’t my type,” Quinn could feel his heart drop as the grin on your face grew, “but maybe I am willing to make an exception because I just think you’re way cute. The next time you’re in town to play a game against your brothers, and you score a goal, I’ll consider going on a date.” 

Suddenly, Quinn could feel his heart beating out of his chest. He mumbled quietly, “I mean yeah… I could possibly manage that.” 

“Okay well, that sounds perfect!” you exclaimed, then kissing Quinn on the cheek, which caused his face to get hot for one more time that night. 

After that night, all Quinn could think about was you and your little proposition. Eventually, that game came around. He made sure that Jack had gotten you tickets, even going as far as suggesting that you should sit with their parents during the game. 

He felt like a nervous wreck all before the game, wondering if he would even get the chance to score a goal just so he could get a date with the most beautiful human being he had ever met. However, those nerves were not needed, as he ended up getting a hat trick by the end of the game. Each goal scored he searched for your face in the stands to give you a little wink. Quinn had felt like a king that night, not only bringing in the win for his team but also the prospect of getting to take you on a date.

By the end of the night, you found yourself opening a text from an unknown number. 

Hey, I hope you don’t mind that I got your number from Jack. Anyways, about that date? :)

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #vancouver canucks imagine #nhl imagine #mine!

[col-islander43]

Questions

Anthony Beauvillier x Reader

Warnings: None that I can think of, but let me know if there are any

Word count: {696}

You and Anthony were cuddled up on the couch under a blanket you had given him when you first started dating. The movie had become background noise as you soaked up every second possible, trying to ignore the thought of your flight being less than twenty-four hours away.

Your legs were tangled together, his hand was caressing your face, and as his arm tightened around your waist, a giggle escaped your lips "I don't think I can get any closer, babe."

The smile he gave you hurt you more than you'd ever admit because the sadness he didn't want to show was clear in your eyes. It wasn't his fault, he wasn't intentionally trying to hurt you, life just got in the way.

When he told you about the trade, you knew long distance was going to be hard, but you convinced yourself it would be like an extended roadie. A very extended roadie. You were lucky with the somewhat matching schedules, visiting each other was easy, but they didn't make living without the love of your life easier.

He never asked you to make the move, he wanted to, but he couldn't ask that from you, to leave everything you built, over the years, behind. Little did he know you'd drop everything in a heartbeat because he was worth it. You weren't upset when he didn't ask you because you knew he had his motives, he always did so long distance it was. At first, you managed, but it was slowly breaking you and you tried hiding it, but he knew. Of course, he knew.

"I wanted to talk to you about something." he whispered. It made your heart skip a beat and as he felt your body stiffen under his arms, he was quick to reassure you "It's not what you think, promise."

He felt you relax a bit and pressed a kiss to your lips to seal the promise like he always did. "The past days with you have got me thinking. I love you, you know that, but this isn't working, mon ange. It's breaking you apart." you opened your mouth to reply, but he shook his head, cutting you off "Don't try and deny it, I see those sad smiles you think you are hiding."

A bashful smile overtook your face as you hid in the crook of his neck "I don't know what you're talking about. And I hate to break it to you, but it sounds exactly like I was thinking."

"Can you look at me, please?" You shook your head, not wanting to face what was coming next and the kiss he placed on the top of your head did little to reassure you. "Look at me, chéri." he pleaded.

You lifted your head and looked into his eyes for what you hoped wasn't the last time "If you're going to break up with me, at least don't do it while we're cuddled up on your couch." Your voice had a sad tone to it and he hated it, but he couldn't stop the loving smile from spreading across his face, and unknowingly to him, it made your blood simmer a bit.

"Could you be happy here? with me?" he asked in between a chuckle, ripping the bandaid off, and he was glad he got good at hiding his nerves because otherwise, he'd be shaking, but your reaction was worth it. Your jaw was slacked as your eyes were trying to figure out if he was either joking or lying. When you were satisfied with what you saw, you started stammering in a breathy voice, trying to put a sentence together and failing.

Anthony placed both his hands on your cheeks, trying to hold back laughter "Chéri, breathe, gather your thoughts, and then tell me what's on your mind."

Doing as you were told, you slapped his chest lightly "Why didn't you just ask that from the beginning?!" your voice slightly raised towards the end of the sentence and Tito couldn't hold back his laughter anymore.

"I had to work up the nerve. It's not every day where I ask a pretty girl to move in with me."

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

Thanks for all the love on my other pieces, it means a lot🤗

I don't like the title so suggestions are very welcome!

It's been awhile, but I'll always miss Beau on the Islanders.

Excuse any mistakes, I wrote this while I was watching the Isles game.

Feedback is appreciated, hope you enjoy!

#anthony beauvillier #Anthony Beauvillier imagine #anthony beauvillier x reader #Vancouver Canucks imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #frankie writes...

[blueskrugs]

More than a Memory | Quinn Hughes

I write quinn now, but apparently only for @matthewtkachuk​. surprise babe! hope you enjoy this one, my latest @antoineroussel​ fic exchange fic! (and it’s not even late!) it was unbelievably hard not to message you about this while I was writing it.

special shoutout to my real-life Sam, who inspired more of this fic than I’d care to admit. 

recommended listening: More than a Memory by Garth Brooks

length: 5.3k words

When you were ten years old, Quinn Hughes was your almost-first-kiss. 

You still remembered the moment as if it were yesterday. In a rare quiet moment in the Hughes household, you were sitting on their living room floor with your eyes closed, where Quinn had told you to wait. You almost flinched when you felt Quinn’s fingers brush your wrist. You cracked open one eye. Quinn was carefully winding a friendship bracelet around your wrist and tying it in a knot. You squeezed your eyes shut again. 

Quinn pressed his forehead to yours. You didn’t dare breathe. 

The back door slammed, Jack or Luke, probably, and you both jolted away from each other. Quinn kneed you in the side as he tried to roll away from you. You were both breathless with nervous laughter—and you with a little bit of pain—when Jack appeared in the doorway. He looked between the two of you for a moment with all the confusion of an eight year old who didn’t understand his older brother.

“Come outside, and play with us,” Jack complained.

It was January in Toronto, and it was cold out. Jack didn’t seem to care about that part. You and Quinn shared a look, but you both grabbed your coats and hats and followed Jack outside.

That had been over ten years ago. 

You and Quinn had grown apart over the years after that day. Once best friends, you quickly felt like you were becoming strangers. Quinn started focusing more on hockey, and your friendship fell through the cracks. It was painful for a while. You missed Quinn terribly, even though he hadn’t gone anywhere. There was a whole year where he barely spoke to you at all, even though you spent all day in the same classrooms. 

Eventually, hockey took the Hughes family to Michigan, and you lost contact with Quinn entirely. You did your best to forget about Quinn, but you kept the thin green friendship bracelet looped around your wrist. 

But that was then, and this is now. That was before you grew up, before you left your family behind and moved across the country to Vancouver. Before, well, everything. 

You didn’t think much about Quinn Hughes these days. You knew he’d been drafted out here, but you didn’t pay much more attention to his career than that. It was for your own sanity, really. Besides, Vancouver was a big city. The odds of you ever running into Quinn were pretty low. 

Or so you thought. You run into Quinn for the first time at the grocery store of all places. You almost don’t recognize him at first, and he doesn’t see you, too focused on the bags of frozen vegetables. You freeze—fitting, for the aisle you were standing in. You debate just turning around and leaving the aisle, but you really need green beans, and they’re the last thing on your grocery list for the week. 

“Excuse me,” you say, edging past Quinn’s cart and reaching for the bag of green beans.

“Oh, sorry,” Quinn says. He starts to move out of the way, but stops, staring at you. You meet his eyes briefly before carefully looking over his left shoulder. “Do I know you?”

You couldn’t remember what you looked like when you were 13 and saw Quinn for the last time, or imagine what he could see in your face now that would still be familiar. Quinn looks the same, yet different. Older, obviously, but it’s enough that you’re not sure you would have recognized him yourself if he weren’t an NHL player in the same city you lived in. His hair has grown out longer than you can ever remember it being, and there’s a day or two worth of stubble across his cheeks. Underneath it, he’s Quinny, but not the Quinn you knew. 

You’ve been quiet for too long. Quinn’s still staring at you, trying to figure out where he knows you from. You could lie. Tell him you’ve never met before and move on. 

What you say instead is: “We went to primary school together, actually.”

There’s a horrifying moment where you think Quinn still won’t recognize you. His eyebrows draw together in confusion, and you wish you hadn’t said anything at all. The moment passes, Quinn’s face clears, and, before you know it, he’s stepping around both of your carts to wrap you in a quick hug. He’s pulling away before you can even convince yourself to hug back.

“Oh my God, of course, Y/N!” Quinn says. “I didn’t know you lived in Vancouver now.”

You don’t have the time to explain all the reasons you left Toronto, so you say, “Yeah, it’s a recent thing. Needed a fresh start, y’know?”

Quinn nods like he does know. He’s moved around enough he might actually know. “I need to get going, but it was good to see you,” he says. “We need to get coffee some time, catch up, yeah?”

You find yourself nodding. Quinn smiles at you one last time before turning and walking away. You realize that you don’t even have his phone number. Whatever. He probably didn’t really mean anything by it, and you’re probably never going to see each other again. For real this time.

The second time you run into Quinn Hughes is actually your fault. You take a personal day off work on a Friday, but you feel too restless to sit around your too-small, too-empty apartment. You Google “ice rinks near me” and end up at Robson Square.

It’s easy enough to rent skates, and you are stepping onto the mostly empty ice before you can let yourself think too hard about it. You don’t know the last time you’d been ice skating. Years, probably. You wobble a bit at first, but it isn’t long before muscle memory kicks in, and you are gliding along as well as you can on the rough ice. It is early enough in the afternoon that it isn’t too crowded, only a few other families and college-aged couples, plus one other lone skater on the other end of the rink from you. It doesn’t take an expert to identify him as a hockey player, but you would recognize that skating anywhere. You had grown up skating alongside him and his brothers in Wedgewood Park back in Toronto.

Quinn isn’t wearing anything Canucks-branded, which is probably why no one else has recognized him. He’s skating in smaller circles than the rest of the crowd, not really paying anyone else any mind. You’re too far away from the door to double back and make an escape, but Quinn still hasn’t seen you, either. You keep skating, praying Quinn doesn’t look up from his crossovers. 

A young child skates past you, then, laughing as they escape their parents. You skate sideways to avoid getting in the way, forgetting how close you’d gotten to Quinn. You are still looking over your shoulder for the kid’s parents when you bump into someone, and you’re both tumbling to the ice. 

You had also forgotten how much it hurt to hit the ice. 

You end up on top of Quinn, your legs tangled together, Quinn’s hands gripping your elbow and your hip.

“Oof,” he says. He looks up at you properly for the first time. “Oh, hi.”

“Hey,” you say, still a little breathless from falling. And maybe a little bit from being so close to Quinn. You choose to ignore that part. 

Quinn winces. “D’you mind-”

“Right, fuck, sorry.” You remove your elbow from his gut. You start to roll off Quinn. His hands tighten for a split second before he lets you go. You were going to start drawing attention to yourselves soon if you don’t get off the ice, but you still lay on your back for a moment, trying to catch your breath.

Next to you, Quinn is already getting to his feet. He brushes the snow off his pants and holds out a hand for you. You debate ignoring it; you know how to skate, and you know how to get up after falling. You certainly don’t need Quinn’s help. 

You roll to your knees and take Quinn’s hand, letting him pull you back to your feet. You drift close for a second, practically into Quinn’s chest. You both took a step backwards. Quinn starts skating again without letting go of your hand, and you have no choice but to skate after him.

Until Quinn realizes you were still holding hands, and he drops yours like he’s been burned. 

You step off the ice as soon as you reach the door, not looking to see if Quinn is following you. You hear him sigh before he steps off too.

You find a bench and begin yanking at your skate laces with numb fingers. Quinn sits beside you and pulls your hand away. He rubs absently at your cold fingertips. You should have worn gloves. 

“Hey, you’re not leaving already, are you?” he asks softly. 

You shake your head. You don’t know. You don’t know if Quinn wants you anywhere near him, or if you want to stick around. This was supposed to be a nice afternoon by yourself, not another one haunted by ghosts of your past.

You miss the days when you knew how to act around Quinn, when you didn’t even have to think about it. 

“What’re you even doing here?” you ask, deflecting. “Surely you have no shortage of access to ice.” It’s teasing, but it feels forced. A reminder of the reason your friendship fell apart all those years ago. 

Quinn shrugs. “It’s nice, sometimes,” he says, “to get outside and skate like we used to as kids.”

You think you might understand, a little. “Yeah,” you say, speaking just as softly as Quinn.

“Haven’t seen you around much,” he says next.

That’s by design, a little bit. It hasn’t been hard, exactly, to avoid running into Quinn at the only place you know you have in common—the grocery store. 

“Been busy,” you lie. You go to work, you go home, alone. You’ve been dragged out to happy hour after work a few times with your new coworkers, but you always duck out after one drink. 

Quinn shoots you a sideways look like he can still see through you, even after a decade. He pulls out his phone, unlocks it, and hands it to you, before squatting down and beginning to untie your skates.

“Well, if you can spare some time, you still owe me a coffee,” he says, staring carefully at his fingers. You look up from typing your number into a new contact. “I owe you coffee?” you splutter. Quinn grins up at you, and you can’t help but laugh. You only have a vague idea of how much Quinn makes these days, but it is definitely more than you.

Quinn follows you over to the counter to return your skates. “You don’t have to leave just because I’m here,” he tells you.

You force yourself to smile at him over your shoulder. “Don’t flatter yourself, I just don’t think I’d be able to get up after another fall like that.” You’re already feeling stiff and cold from your hard landing on the ice. It might be a little bit to avoid making small talk with Quinn, too. “I’ll text you, okay?”

Your friendship with Quinn begins again in fits and starts after that. You do end up meeting for coffee: one sorta-painful Saturday morning, trying to fit a decade’s worth of the important stuff into an hour and a half. Quinn’s busier than you, practices and games and road trips, but he texts when he can. You find it easier than you expected to respond to his dumb memes and inane small talk. You dodge his attempts to hang out again. You’re not sure you’re ready for that, but you’re not entirely sure why.

Then, Quinn texts you that Jack and the Devils were going to be in town the next week, along with his parents. You didn’t even know Jack had gotten drafted to the Devils. Your heart aches for things you didn’t even know you were missing out on. 

You open the text, but don’t answer it for days. Quinn finally calls you.

“You know, my parents are going to be pissed if they find out you’re avoiding them,” he says when you answer. He almost sounds angry.

“Fuck, hello to you, too,” you snap. 

Quinn huffs. “Hi, you’ve been ignoring me,” he says. “C’mon, they’re looking forward to seeing you,” he adds. “My mom especially.”

You wish you could flip Quinn off right now. Ellen always was your favorite Hughes. You hadn’t even realized he had told his parents you were in Vancouver now. 

“Quinn, I haven’t been to a hockey game in years,” you try. It’s a weak excuse, and you both know it.

“So?” Quinn says. “Listen, my mom already got you an extra ticket, you have to come.” He pauses. “Even Jack is excited to see you,” he wheedles.

“Have you told everyone I moved to Vancouver?” you ask.

“Well, not everyone,” Quinn says. “Just my family, and a few teammates.”

“So, pretty much everyone,” you laugh.

“I was excited!” Quinn defends, but he’s also laughing. “It’s not everyday I run into my best friend after ten years.” He has a point there. “I’ll text you the details, okay?” Quinn is saying, and then he’s hanging up.

You end up getting dragged out to dinner with the four Hugheses the night before the game, despite your protests, citing family time and other shit that Ellen doesn’t buy. 

“You’re taller than me,” you complain, when Jack bounds out of Quinn’s car in front of the restaurant and wraps you in a hug. The last time you’d seen him you still had a few inches on him, at least. 

“You should see how tall Lukey is now,” Jack says. “He’s taller than both of us.” Jack is laughing, but you can hear how much it’s killing him that his baby brother is taller than him.

God, you hadn’t even thought about Luke. “Shit, is he in college now?” That can’t be right. 

Ellen smiles at you over her shoulder as you all head inside. “He just started his second year at Michigan.”

“He’s all the smartest out of all three of us,” Quinn whispers in your ear, a hand hovering over the small of your back. You imagine you can feel the heat of his palm across the distance and through your thin sweater.

It’s easier than you thought to lose yourself in the rhythm of conversation and get swept away in the controlled chaos that occurs with the Hughes family. You argue with Jack over appetizers, and you both take turns making fun of Quinn. It’s familiar, like a well-worn pair of shoes. 

Ellen turns to you after the dinner plates have been cleared away, and Jack and Quinn are bickering good-naturedly over who has to foot the bill. There’s a worried look in her eyes that immediately sets you on edge.

“I’d had no idea you moved out to Vancouver,” she starts. “It’s been so long since your mom and I chatted.” 

For as close as you and Quinn had been growing up, it only made sense that Ellen and your mom had become good friends, too, between supervising play dates and coordinating carpools. You hadn’t known if they’d kept in touch at all since the Hughes family moved to Michigan.

Ellen goes on. “Did that boy—oh, what’s his name—move with you?”

“Sam? Oh, no, that’s…over,” you say. That is the reason you moved across the continent at all. This isn’t the time or place for that part of the conversation, though. “Just me out here,” you say, uncomfortable.

“Sam?” Quinn asks, at the same time Jack says, “Who’s Sam?” Quinn looks worried, while Jack looks delighted by this development. 

You wave your hand in a way you hope seems nonchalant. “Just an ex-boyfriend.” That answer isn’t good enough for either of them; Quinn’s frown deepens, and Jack’s eyebrows go up. “We were together for a while, I don’t know, everyone thought he was it for me, I guess.” You had even thought that Sam was it for you.

You had never been more wrong.

The boys let it go, and you turn back to Ellen. She tsks. “That’s too bad, your mom said you two were so cute together.” 

You had been once, you supposed. “Yeah, well,” you say awkwardly. You’ve probably already said too much. You’re saved by the waitress delivering the bill, reigniting Jack and Quinn’s argument. 

Quinn hugs you tightly outside the restaurant. “We need to hang out more,” he says firmly. “Quit fucking avoiding me.” 

“Language,” Ellen warns from behind you. You laugh at the face Quinn makes. Jack ruffles your hair on the way past. You aim a kick at him, but he dodges you, cackling. You manage to grab onto the back of his shirt and reel him in for a hug, too.

“Missed you,” he admits. “Don’t be a stranger,” he adds. “Quinn knows where you live now, he will find you.” 

It would be threatening if you hadn’t known these boys since you were literal children, and if Jack weren’t still about as intimidating as a puppy. Still, Quinn’s looking seriously at you over Jack’s shoulder, and you don’t doubt that he will start showing up at your front door to drag you out of the apartment.

October bleeds into November. It becomes harder to avoid Quinn and his pointed texts, but the Canucks go on the road for a week, saving you from coming up with excuses. You know Quinn too well to expect that he’d let his mom’s mention of your ex go without an interrogation. 

But you slip up before Quinn gets the chance to confront you. Your anniversary with Sam is—was—November 14th. You buy a bottle of wine and drink it alone in your empty apartment. You find yourself calling Quinn without thinking about it, memories of years past blurring together.

“Hello?” Quinn mumbles when he answers the phone. Shit, you’d forgotten he’s on the East Coast—Boston? Buffalo? You’re not sure right now.

“Shit, sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” You feel like you’re on the verge of tears, and Quinn must be able to hear it through the phone. “Forget it, I’m sorry.” 

He sounds worried, more awake, when he speaks again. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” 

His words set something off in you, and you’re crying in between one breath and the next. So much has happened, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to tell the story and do it justice. You faintly hear Quinn sigh on the other end of the line. He’s quiet as you try to collect yourself, the minutes stretching out between you. 

“Am I always going to be alone?” you finally ask. You take a shuddery breath.

Quinn yawns, and you wince, suddenly remembering that you woke him because you were feeling melancholy. “What? Of course not, why would you even ask that?” Quinn doesn’t sound angry, just confused. 

“Everybody always leaves,” you whisper. 

Quinn left. A string of worthless ex-boyfriends before Sam all left. Sam had been the one, you’d thought, the one who would stay.

You ended up leaving before he could. 

“I’m not going anywhere this time,” Quinn says firmly. “Well, except for road trips, sometimes, and back to Michigan for the summer, I guess, but I’m bringing you with me to Michigan anyway, and you know what I mean.”

You giggle in spite of yourself. “I’m sorry for waking you,” you say again, fighting back a yawn of your own. Your head is starting to hurt.

There’s muffled rustling on Quinn’s end that tells you he’s shrugging. You’re still lying on your living room floor. You should probably move, go to bed, something. You drag a blanket off your couch and over yourself. Just a few more minutes. 

You wake up to your phone alarm blaring next to your head the next morning. You groan and roll over. You never did make it to bed, and you’re sore and stiff from laying on your floor all night. You slap at your phone to turn your alarm off. It’s nearly dead, another consequence of falling asleep on the floor. 

You drag yourself into the kitchen for a glass of water and a phone charger. Your call log is still open. The call with Quinn lasted hours; Quinn must have only ended it when he woke up this morning. You should probably apologize for drunk dialing and wallowing, again. 

There’s a text waiting for you from Quinn, too: you owe me coffee again 💤

You roll your eyes and dislike the message to be annoying. 

Quinn shows up at your door a few days later with coffee in hand. He shoulders his way past you before you can make up an excuse about being busy, despite the fact that it’s a Saturday morning and you’re definitely still in pajamas, and thrusts one of the cups of coffee at you.

You take it, suspicious. “I thought I was supposed to be buying you coffee, not the other way around,” you grumble. Quinn got your coffee order right, because of course he did. 

“I’ll send you a Venmo request or something,” Quinn says, unconcerned. “Are you mad at me?” 

You don’t know what you were expecting Quinn to say, but it definitely wasn’t that. “Am I— what?” 

“Are you mad at me? For leaving Toronto?”

You were, once. That anger faded a long time ago, though, softened by nostalgia and simply missing your best friend. “What? No, not any more.” “Not any more?” Quinn echoes.

“I mean, I was, when we were younger, but that was stupid.” It wasn’t really Quinn’s fault, and, seeing how far he’s gotten now, you really can’t blame him for wanting to follow hockey for as long as he could. 

“You said everybody leaves,” Quinn insists. “I left you.”

“Quinny, we were kids,” you say. “I’m not mad at you for something that happened over a decade ago, oh my God.”

“But you said—”

“I’m just tired of dating shitty guys, okay?”

“Oh.” Quinn takes a sip of his coffee. He opens his mouth, ready to argue some more.

“I’m not having any more of this conversation without coffee,” you say. You wave the cup of coffee in your hand for emphasis. 

Quinn drops it after that.

Weeks pass. Quinn grows more insistent on spending time with you, whether it’s at your apartment or his, or sneaking in a breakfast or lunch not-date when your schedules allow. He even invites you to hang out with a few of his teammates, and you spend one surprisingly nice evening squished between Quinn and Brock on Quinn’s couch, playing video games that you’re not particularly good at. You and Brock spend most of the time ganging up on Quinn for some light bullying, much to Quinn’s despair.

You keep expecting Quinn to bring up Sam and your relationship again. He never does, but you see the way he watches you sometimes, the same “worried older brother” look he used to cast upon Jack and Luke. After a while, you and Quinn settle into a rhythm of friendship, not unlike the one you had when you were kids. You talk frequently, you hang out when you can. 

You fan the flames of a childhood crush you thought had been extinguished a long time ago.

“Hey, are you going home for Christmas?” Quinn says randomly one afternoon in December. He’s sitting on your couch, craning his neck around to see you where you’re standing in your kitchen. 

“Uh? No?” You’re still close enough with your family, but they understand why you avoid Toronto pretty much these days. There’s too many ruined relationships haunting those streets.

Quinn huffs. “What are you running from?” His face does something complicated before settling on worried again. “He didn’t, like, hurt you, did he?”

“Sam? No, absolutely not.” You reconsider. “I mean, like, emotionally, yeah, but that was just the break-up.”

Quinn cracks a small smile, but he still looks concerned. “So, you’re really not going home because of him?”

You shrug. “Easier to avoid running into an ex if you’re not even in the same city. Besides, I kinda…cut all ties and got out of dodge. It’s too awkward to go back now.” 

Quinn’s eyebrows furrow like he’s trying to figure out what question he wants to ask next. “You really—” He switches tacks. “Do you—like—I’m going to Michigan, and it’s only for, like, a day, but you know my mom would love to have you, but only if you want, and—” He takes a deep breath. “Do you want to come to Michigan for Christmas?”

You stare at Quinn, unsure how to react. There was once a time when you were as comfortable in the Hughes’ house as your own. That was a long time ago, in a house in a different country. You feel like you and Quinn have been dancing around the question of whether or not your friendship could be something more—that tenuous moment from when you were 10 still not forgotten—and this feels like crossing that unspoken line somehow. 

Quinn looks unsure now, watching you hesitantly from across the room. 

“I don’t know, Quinn,” you say finally. “I don’t want to impose, and you barely get to see your family as it is—”

Quinn waves a hand at you. “Luke will be out in Halifax for World Junior’s by then, and I’m serious, you know Mom would love to have you.” He frowns. “You shouldn’t have to be alone on Christmas.”

It would be nice to not be alone for the holidays. You glance over at your sad little Christmas tree, still undecorated in a corner of your living room. 

Still, “I’ll be fine,” you insist. 

You expect Quinn to let it go, the way he lets a lot of things go with you lately. He’s been careful, afraid to push you into difficult conversations since you reconnected. Instead, he frowns harder and crosses his arms at you.

You’re almost glad for it, mentally preparing yourself for a fight.

“You’re coming to Michigan,” he says firmly. “I’ll book your fucking flight myself if I have to.”

“Q—” you start, but Quinn’s not done.

“What are you so afraid of? What did your ex do to you that you’re so scared to let people in? Ever since you’ve been in Vancouver, you keep everyone at a distance, even me. We used to tell each other everything.”

You don’t have the words to respond. You turn on your heel and stalk off towards your bedroom. You hear Quinn call your name, but you ignore him. You yank your bedside table drawer open, fishing around blindly until your hand closes around the item you’re looking for. You head back towards the living room. 

Quinn’s still standing there with his arms crossed, looking angry and confused and hurt all at once. 

You throw the object in your hand at Quinn. He catches it easily. Hockey player reflexes.

“A ring box? I don’t understand.” He opens the box carefully. Inside, nestled in the velvet, is a beautiful, sparkling engagement ring. Quinn stares at it, open-mouthed. 

“We were supposed to get married,” you tell Quinn. Your voice sounds hollow, even to your own ears. “Sam and I, next summer.” Quinn takes the ring out of the box and turns it over in his hand. It glints in the light. “We’d met in college. God, I was so in love.” 

“I still don’t—I don’t get it.” 

You continue. “I came home from work one day and found him fucking one of our friends. Had been going on for a while, apparently. We were in the middle of planning the wedding, we were about to buy a house, everything. I was going to ask her to be one of my bridesmaids.” You let out a humorless laugh. You realize your eyes are wet. “I cleaned all my shit out of our apartment while he was at work a few days later, hid out at my parents’ for a few days. I think I had everything settled to move to Vancouver within a couple weeks.” 

You watch as Quinn slots the ring back into its box. 

You had needed the distance. It wouldn’t have been long before all of your friends found out about Sam, and you didn’t think you could handle the endless explanations of why your engagement had ended. Plus, Vancouver had brought Quinn back to you, and that was easily the best part of your year.

Quinn finally seems to notice your crying. “Hey, come here,” he says gently, opening his arms for you. You step into them without hesitation, letting Quinn wrap you in a hug. You let yourself linger, safe and comfortable in Quinn’s arms. 

“You know, I used to be taller than you,” you mumble into Quinn’s chest. Those years had been nice. Quinn doesn’t tower over you now, but you’re tucked neatly under his chin. He pinches your side. You jerk and squirm away, laughing.

Quinn grabs you by the wrist suddenly, bringing your hand close to his face to inspect it. “What is this?” he asks, twisting the little, braided green bracelet around his finger until it tightens against your wrist.

You try to tug your hand away, but Quinn holds on. 

“It’s a bracelet, Q, I know you’ve seen them before.” Quinn pinches you again, gently on the skin of your forearm this time. You whine at him.

“I gave this to you,” he says. It’s not a question. He finally tears his eyes away from the bracelet and looks at you. “I gave this to you,” he repeats, “when we were like, ten.”

“Yeah,” you say, helpless. You had no idea Quinn even remembered that day, or giving you the bracelet. 

“You still wear it?” he asks. You shrug. “That was, like, over ten years ago, what the hell.”

You finally pull your hand free from Quinn. You shrug again, uncomfortable. “I didn’t start wearing it regularly until you moved to Michigan.” It had been a nice reminder of your best friend, and after a while, you honestly forgot it was tied around your wrist.

“I almost kissed you that day,” Quinn says thoughtfully. 

If you were drinking something, you probably would have choked. You’re suddenly very aware of how closely you and Quinn are still standing. Quinn pauses. You can hear your own heartbeat in your ears. 

“Can I kiss you now?” he asks, softly.

You nod before you can even think about it, winding your arms around Quinn’s neck and letting him pull you in by the hips. It’s better than it would have been at 10, yet it’s exactly what you breathlessly wished for all those years ago. Quinn’s lips move easily against yours, just as gentle as he always is with you.

When you pull away to catch your breath, you rest your forehead on Quinn’s shoulder. You’re both silent for a long moment.

“I have a confession,” you say.

“Another one?” Quinn squeezes your hip.

“I don’t think I’m ready for another relationship,” you admit.

Quinn squeezes your hip again. “Baby, I’ve been waiting on you since we were kids.” You laugh, smacking Quinn on the back of the head. “Ow, hey. This just means I get to woo you, yeah?”

You laugh harder. “Never fucking say that again, oh my God.”

Quinn sways a little bit, and you rock with him. “I mean it. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.”

“D’you promise?”

“Promise.” Quinn steps over to the couch, and you let him tug you until you land next to him. You rest your head on his shoulder again. “You definitely have to come home with me for Christmas now.”

You lob a decorative pillow at his head as he dissolves into laughter.

#cait writes things #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #vancouver canucks imagine #vancouver canucks fic #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Surprise Party | Quinn Hughes

hi friends! this is my summer 2k23 fic exchange!! @jostystyles this one's for you darling! I hope you enjoy it and I hope this has come out before your bday but if not, happy late birthday! Hope this fic lives up to the hype and I apologize if the flow is a little off. Thank you again to @wyattjohnston for organizing all this! I had sm fun with it!

warnings? nah, Quinn's a lil cutie summary: Quinn throws you a surprise birthday party and pulls out all the stops, making your feelings for him grow exponentially w.c: 3.4k (and to think I was nervous about making the wc)

Your eyes crack open slowly, for a moment you’re confused as to what has woken you up but then you hear it. Footsteps. 

Your heart seizes in fear for a moment but you would bet your life that it was Quinn, the only other person besides yourself to have a key to your apartment. You wonder what he was doing over here, especially so early but you shrug it off and sink further into your pillows. At this point, you were too tired to investigate and knew the odds of it being a serial killer were most likely slim. 

Just as your eyes flutter shut and you’re halfway to dreamland, you hear your bedroom door swing open. 

“Happy birthday to you,” you hear Quinn’s voice sing but when you sit up you’re greeted with more than just your best friend. 

“Happy birthday to you!” Your best friend Charlie from high school jumps on your bed, crawling her way up the mattress until she plops next to you and throws an arm around your shoulder. 

“Happy birthday dear (y/n)!!!” Quinn, Beau, and Brock sing out and now you’re full on grinning. Your hand comes up to cover the expression but Beau is quick to take it and leave you exposed and giggly. 

“Happy birthday to you!” 

As they cheer, you blow out the candle on the cupcake Quinn is holding out for you. He sets it on your nightstand as everyone piles on top of you for a hug. Your heart is pushing to the top of your throat, threatening to spill out and unleash in a babble of sentimental words. 

“Thanks guys,” you say, still grinning madly when everyone finally lets go. “I appreciate you.” 

“Okay, birthday plans,” Charlie says and you look over at her in confusion. 

“I thought we were celebrating tonight?” 

“Change of plans, you, Quinn, and Brock are celebrating tonight but Beau and I had something come up so we can’t come tonight.” 

“So, you’re stuck with us all day,” Beau supplies and while you’re a little suspicious about the sudden change and supposed ‘something’ you nod anyway. 

“Alright get dressed! Breakfast first,” Charlie ushers the guys out but Quinn holds back for a second. 

“Happy Birthday (y/n).” 

When the door shuts you’re embarrassed by the little happy dance you do thinking about Quinn stopping to wish you a happy birthday separate from the others. He was so fucking cute. 

You’re still beaming when you leave your room in a brand new sundress bought just for your birthday. Charlie and Beau are the only two left in your apartment and they stop speaking as soon as you enter the room. 

“Period!!” your best friend yells and you give her a mandatory twirl before walking over to her and Beau. 

“So, what are we doing first?” 

The three of you get breakfast at your favorite diner before the two suggest heading to the beach. You hadn’t been yet this summer and were beyond excited to start off your many trips with two of your closest friends on your birthday. 

“What do you guys have going on later?” 

“Uhm,” Charlie shoots a glance at Beau who awkwardly stiffens at your question. 

“We’re going on a date,” Charlie blurts out and your eyes widen in shock. 

“A double date! Not a date with each other,” Beau stutters out and your eyes shift back and forth between the two. 

“Oohkay,” you say, flopping down onto the beach chair and trying not to stare at the two next to you. 

You shrug off your friend's weird behavior as the warmth of the sun flows over you. The sound of the ocean floods your ears and you feel your body sink further into the beach chair. Your eyes slide shut, a deep breath releasing as you think over the rest of your day plans. 

You couldn’t wait to celebrate with Quinn and Brock tonight. You assumed it was some kind of dinner, gift, movie night combination for your celebration but regardless you knew it would be the best part of your birthday if you were with Quinn. 

Sometime between when you first were introduced to Quinn, to five years later, sitting on this beach and having him impede all of your thoughts you were still somewhat shocked by how intensely you fell in love with the hockey player. The way your heart full on stopped and then sped up twice as fast as normal when he entered a room drove you crazy in the best and worst way possible. 

After a couple of hours at the beach, you grow hungry again and the three of you make a pit stop at your favorite fast food restaurant before ending up at the mall. 

“Anything I want?” you ask, wanting to make sure you heard Beau correctly. 

“Anything,” he nods and your eyes widen. 

“Beau I can’t,” you shake your head, knowing you’ll feel too guilty letting him buy you literally anything. 

“I mean if you turn it down,” Charlie jokes and you grin. 

“Okay okay,” you say and the two of them cheer before Beau grabs your hand and pulls you further into the mall. 

~

Quinn has been panicking ever since he left your apartment this morning. 

He had decided about a month ago he wanted to throw you a surprise birthday party instead of just doing your usual celebration routine. He wanted to truly celebrate you and all the amazing accomplishments you had done this past year and all you’re going to do for years and years after. 

“Dude, I know you’re in love but you gotta chill,” Brock says, clapping a strong hand on Quinn’s shoulder as he nervously looks over every inch of his house and how he has set it up. 

It was a no brainer to pretty much everyone with eyes that Quinn had feelings for you. Everyone could see his shaky hands, nervous glances, and shallow breaths when you so much as glanced in his direction. It was torture in the best way possible, being your best friend but not being as close as he wanted. Therefore, he felt a little bit under pressure to make your birthday the best day possible for you. 

“She’s gonna love it,” Brock reminds him and Quinn nods, trying to convince himself of the statement as well. 

~ 

“Thank you for hanging out with me today,” you tell Charlie and Beau as they walk you up to Quinn’s door. 

“Anything for the birthday girl,” Charlie says, pulling you into a tight hug and you grin against her. 

When you let go, you turn and push open the front door to Quinn’s house without a second thought about it until you see all the lights off. 

“SURPRISE!” The lights flip on like magic and your hand slaps over your mouth the minute you see everyone in Quinn’s house. 

What looks like the entire Canucks team, your closest friends, Jack and Luke, your sister and brother, and a handful of others greet you with smiling faces. You don’t even realize you’re so fucking happy until a random tear spills out and you’re overwhelmed by emotions that you can’t even move. 

“Oh my god,” you choke out and faster than you can blink you’re surrounded by friends and people tugging you close and holding you tight. 

“Thank you guys! I love y’all!” you call out and everyone slowly starts to return to normal party status as you recover from the surprise.

You turn to Beau behind you and he shrugs his shoulders at you, Charlie also shares a sneaky grin and you dive into a group hug with the two of them. You couldn’t believe they spent the whole day with you and kept the secret of this surprise party as well. You couldn’t ask for better friends. 

“Don’t thank us,” Beau says and you’re about to question him when you hear a voice. 

“(y/n)?” you pull away from your group hug to see Quinn standing there with a shy smile on his lips. 

“Did you?” You ask trailing off and when Quinn’s smile brightens you feel your heart shake beautifully in your chest. 

You step towards him, throwing your arms around his waist and he pulls you close. He whispers happy birthday into your ear and it sends shivers down your spine, and all you can do is thank him over and over again. You prop your head up on Quinn’s chest and he grins madly down at you. It takes all your willpower not to lean up on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his lips. 

“Come on (y/n), let me make you a drink,” Charlie says, dragging you away from Quinn and you’re practically vibrating from head to toe in happiness. 

Quinn watches you as Charlie pulls you along and his smile is so wide he might as well have just been handed the Stanley Cup. He made you happy. He made you smile. That’s all he ever needed in this world. 

As Charlie drags you through the house, your heart fills and fills at the sight of everyone wishing you happy birthday and well wishes. Just when you think there couldn’t be more people you know, you realize Quinn has pulled off all the stops and invited every single important person in your life. 

“(y/n)!” you hear someone call out and just as you turn to look who it is, you’re engulfed in a giant bear hug. 

“Nate!!” you yell into his chest and the giant hockey player chuckles against you. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask, stepping back to take in his appearance. 

Every time you see Nate you swear he gets taller, his frame towers over you and your eyes scan his face to see his beard slowly creeping back onto his face after no doubt shaving it when the season ended. He’s wearing a black shirt that hugs his muscles and dark blue jeans and your heart is bursting to see the person you consider your other half. 

Meeting Nate was a complete accident, something you thanked the higher beings for everyday because you weren’t sure how you lived without the hulking hockey player before. You and Nate were scarily alike; cracking the same jokes, sharing the same taste in food, finishing each other's sentences constantly, reading each other's thoughts with one look, and everything else in between. If you hadn’t met Quinn first, you probably would have fallen head over heels for Nate. 

“It’s your birthday!” He says like it’s the most obvious explanation in the world. “You think I’m gonna miss celebrating you?” 

You grin widely, diving deep into a catch up session with Nate that by the time you’re finished, you’re being ushered into the main room as someone flips off most of the lights again. You look around in confusion but when you see fire moving around the room you realize what’s happening. 

“Happy birthday to you,” the whole crowd of people begin to sing and you hide your face as your cheeks flame embarrassingly bright. 

Your arms wrap around your body as Quinn carries the cake closer to you. You hear his quiet voice repeating the same words from this morning and for a moment it feels like just the two of you in this giant room full of people. 

“Make a wish,” he whispers, nudging your side when everyone finishes singing. 

You blow out the candles, your wish being something you’ve been wanting for five years now but still has yet to come true. But you’ve always believed in the power of wishes regardless. 

“What’d you wish for?” Quinn asks when the cheering has settled and his big brown eyes staring into yours cause your knees to weaken. 

“You know I can’t tell,” you joke and Quinn grins at you. You’ve won the fucking lottery seeing a smile like that and knowing it came from you and the stupidest joke alive. 

Someone hands you a piece of cake and you take a bite, your favorite flavor, and groan in happiness. How did Quinn know you this well? You’re halfway turned towards him, ready to compliment him, tell him you love him, thank him, anything, when your sister calls your name and you’re forced to walk away. 

You spend the next two hours bouncing from person to person, group to group, thanking them for coming and any gifts they brought and overall forcing your heart to not implode from the love being shoved deep into it. You’d remember this day forever, a core memory to look back on and make you smile when things get tough. 

Quinn has kept an eye on you all night, his talent for finding you in a crowd coming extremely handy at the moment. As you move from one group to the next he recognizes the tired expression that flickers in between the smiles. He knew your social battery was probably running low after hours of being out of the house and now all of these people being here as well. 

His eyes run over your features, the way you’re only half listening to the conversation, your head involuntarily nodding while you stare off at a random space. Your arms are wrapped around yourself protectively and while he knew you loved everyone at this party and had a connection with each of them one way or another, he also knew you could only do so much socializing. 

“Excuse me, I think I need to go bail out the birthday girl,” Quinn says, excusing himself from a conversation with his younger brothers. 

As he makes his way towards you, he thanks people on your behalf, telling them you’ll reach out as soon as possible and offering to tell you goodbye for them. He moves throughout the room, quietly ushering people out of the house and hoping he doesn’t sound too rude while doing so. 

When Quinn finally makes it over to you, you’re hugging Jack and Luke. You mention something about seeing them soon and the brothers offer nods and goodbyes to Quinn before leaving. 

“Is it finally my turn with the birthday girl?” Quinn jokes and fire ignites your body at his words. 

“Oh shut up,” you tell him with an added eye roll. 

“Hey I don’t want to cut in line and bother miss popular,” he says, throwing his hands up in defense and you lightly push him away in annoyance. 

“So, I was wondering if you wanted to stay over?” 

“Oh thank god,” you reply and Quinn tilts his head in confusion. “I was not going to be able to fit all of that in an uber.” 

The two of you laugh as you look over at the literal pile of gifts sitting on Quinn’s kitchen table. You were still in disbelief that someone would spend any amount of money on you and even more in shock that so many people came to your birthday party. You’re pretty sure the smile on your face was permanent. 

“Wanna go chill upstairs?” Quinn asks, pulling you from your thoughts. 

“What about the mess?” 

“We’ll worry about it tomorrow,” he says, extending a hand towards you and you take it, letting him pull you in the direction of his bedroom. 

The two of you spend the next few minutes in a familiar routine, Quinn handing you some of his clothes to wear to bed, changing in the bathroom and coming back to his king sized bed and curling up into the warm covers. 

Quinn puts on your favorite movie, The Parent Trap with Lindsay Lohan, before running downstairs and grabbing ice cream. When he comes back up he hands you a heaping bowl of the desert and you can’t help the little dance you do at the sight of the food. 

“Chocolate marshmallow?” you ask after taking a bite. 

“It’s your favorite,” Quinn says, shrugging his shoulders. 

You stare at the boy next to you, your heart constricting painfully thinking about how no one else in the world most likely remembers the weird flavor of ice cream you enjoy the most. And Quinn bought it? For you? Did he even know how this little thing made you feel so incredibly much? 

“Ooh!” Quinn exclaims and you offer him a confused look. 

He doesn’t say anything as he pauses the movie, climbing off the mattress and heading towards his closet doors. You watch as he rummages through the items in there until finally landing on what he wants. 

When Quinn stands back up and closes the closet doors, he feels the nerves zing throughout his body. He had spent an eternity trying to get you the perfect gift and now that the time is here, he’s still worried it’s not enough or not perfect for you. 

He pushes through his nerves anyway, sitting back down on the bed before extending the decorated box towards you. 

“Happy birthday,” he says and mentally smacks himself for having zero charisma. 

Your hands ghost over the box, the perfect shade of your favorite color with a matching ribbon wrapped around. You tug the fabric off, pulling the top of the box open and as your eyes meet the contents of the package it takes all of your willpower not to burst into happy tears. 

The box is beautifully decorated on the inside with photos of you and Quinn, little handwritten notes around the edge and important dates of your friendship from the past five years. You reach inside to see a necklace with the letter Q on it and a pair of silver earrings to go with it. 

You set the jewelry aside and look down to see a chunk of letters tied together with a string. You pull them out to see each of them are labeled with a different sentence. The first states “Open when it’s your birthday!” The next, “Open when you just got good news but can’t call me”, the third “Open when you miss me while I’m on a roadie” and at least ten more along the same lines. 

The rest of the box is littered with all of your favorite little things and a final polaroid of you and Quinn. You stare at the framed picture, confusion etched in your features until it occurs to you what this photo is. 

“Our first summer,” you say wistfully, glancing at Quinn to see him nervously chewing on his fingernails. 

“The first time you came to the lake house,” he says and you’re both wearing matching grins. 

The first time at the Hughes family lake house was when you truly understood your feelings for Quinn. The polaroid is a picture Jack took, the two of you sitting side by side at the edge of the dock, feet swinging over the water as your bodies pressed next to each other from top to toe. You didn’t think your breathing would ever return to normal after that day when you were around Quinn. 

“Oh Q,” you say, pulling out the old nickname and his face flushes in happiness. 

“I know I already threw you a party and I hope you liked it but I really wanted to get you something just from me and I hope it’s okay it’s definitely a bit more sentimental than I usually go and honestly it’s probably too much but if you don’t like it I can-” 

Your lips press to Quinn’s in a gesture that hopefully silences him as well as get your true feelings about the gift and him across. 

It takes him a second to respond but his hand slides to your cheek, his thumb running over your soft skin and a silent hum emits from him when you lean further into his touch. The kiss lights you on fire, your skin feeling warm and every nerve standing at attention. As if you didn’t know before, you’re certain that Quinn Hughes is the sole owner of your heart from now until forever, even if he doesn’t want it. 

“You liked the gift?” Quinn asks when you break apart, faces still inches apart as if there’s a magnetic force keeping you close to each other. 

“You’re so dumb,” you say, rolling your eyes and pushing your forehead lightly against his. 

“Yeah, but you love me,” he retorts, pecking your lips and coaxing out a giggle from you. 

“Yeah,” you sigh happily. “I really do.” 

#quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fic #vancouver canucks fic #vancouver canucks x reader #vancouver canucks imagine #prettytoxicrevolver fic #summer 2k23 fic exchange

[hockeybabe]

can you do morning sex w/ quinn hughes but you guys get interrupted by jack and luke please

Morning Surprise || Q. Hughes

Gif Not mine

Pairings: Quinn Hughes x gf!reader

Summary: Quinn has an idea early in the morning but half way through you get a surprise

Warnings: fingering, dirty talk, getting caught, Jack and Luke not looking at you the same

Word count: 565

Note: I loved this request.

"Baby." Quinn groans into your neck, trying to wake you up. It wasn’t everyday he woke up to his hot ass girlfriend due to being on the road. So the morning wood was hitting him hard. "Mhmm." You groan back, rolling over to the side. "Baby, I need you." He said, rubbing his hands up and down your sides.

The sun was beaming into your bedroom, lighting your skin up as it hit your body. Quinn admired your body, scanning over each and every part of it. You were his, and he was yours, and that's how it would be forever. 

You tried to swat his hands away, but he quickly gripped your hips, turning you over so you were on your back with Quinn on top. "You’re so beautiful." He whispered, running his thumb along your cheek. A shiver rolls down your spine as little pebbles scatter your body.

Quinn places open kisses all over your face, letting his hands wander lower to the sides of your panties, playing with the waistband. You squirm, thrusting your hips up for Quinn to take them off. "Not tired anymore, huh, baby." He said, peeling your panties off and throwing them across the room.

Quinn didn’t sleep with anything on but his boxers; he liked the feeling of your skin on his while you slept. You, on the other hand, slept in panties, and one of Quinn’s shirts. Quinn placed a kiss on each of your thighs as he let his hands wander under the shirt. He then came back up, giving you a long, deep kiss and gathering his shirt, leaving you bare.

"Take it off. I want you." You whined, tugging on the band of Quinn’s boxers. "You want that baby. You want my cock." He taunted you, kissing your neck and sucking on your sweet spot. You roll your hips up into Quinn’s as he grips your hips, pushing your hips down to the bed. "No need to get needy." Quinn said, finally taking off his boxers. 

You looked down, staring at Quinn’s cock, wanting him even more. "Eyes up here, baby. You’ll get it soon enough." Quinn whispered. You trail your eyes up to meet Quinn’s pouting at him. Quinn moved his fingers down to your soaked cunt. "Fuck baby, you’re soaked. This wet for me?" He asked, running his finger up and down your folds.

You whimper at the contact of Quinn’s fingers on your clit. He moved his thumb in slow circles on your clit, kissing your jaw at the same time. "More, Quinn. More." You beg rolling your hips into Quinn’s thumb. Quinn nodded, moving his body lower toward your pussy. He teased his middle finger into your hole, pumping at a slow pace.

"Jesus Quinn, do you want me to do it myself?" You asked under your breath, and Quinn pulled his fingers away from you, looking up at you. "You want to act like a-" "Yo! Quinn, Y/N! Break-" You hear Jack's voice as the door opens. "Jesus! Never mind!" Jack yells as he covers his and Luke’s eyes and walks away.

"Don’t you know how to knock!" Quinn shouted, covering your body from his brothers. "Don’t worry, we won’t live here anymore." Luke said slamming the door, causing you to laugh. "You know they won’t look at us the same, right?" You were giggling as Quinn groaned. 

#hockey #hockey players #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #imagine #nhl smut #fluff #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes smut #vancouver canucks imagine #vancouver canucks #jack hughes #luke hughes

[swissboyhisch]

Support My Girl

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Moyle!Reader

Summary: The final dance concert comes around and you're lucky to have such a supportive family

Word Count: 2304

Warnings: Mentions of nudity

A/N: I love this and ended up getting carried away

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

Tonight was the student dance showcase for your college. It’s a concert put on by the students for friends, family and faculty. At 7 tonight, the curtains rise in the theatre on campus. You had already had the matinee show earlier this morning and it went smoothly. No wig, makeup or costume malfunctions thankfully.

As the top student in the dance course, you had the most dances during the concert out of all the students. With 2 dances per class you take as per the course requirements, you were already up to 12 dances. Some classes then do whole class dances. Add in the fact, selected students get solos, duos or trios if the professors so choose. 

Before the show, there was a cocktail hour in the lobby. It was mandatory for the dancers to attend. Every year, scouts attend the cocktail hour and night performance in hopes of finding dancers to add to their tally. A few of the previous year’s seniors are now on broadway. You didn’t know what you were hoping for. 

You were lucky, your boyfriend has finished his season and was back in Michigan for the show. But not only was he in the crowd tonight, but so is his family. Jack had also finished his season and came back for the summer. 

“Are you ready?” You heard his voice echo through your apartment. 

One final look in the mirror to smooth out your dress and you were out of there. It was your favourite formal dress. Instead of messing around with your hair for every dance, you had a few wigs throughout the night. For now, you were wearing a short black hair look. Your stage makeup was a smokey look. The dress you chose was picked with the thought of the makeup in mind. 

You made sure to grab everything before exiting your room. The only thing with you was your makeup case for touch ups throughout the show, your phone, charger and your wallet. All your costumes, shoes and accessories were still at the theatre after the morning show. It was easier that way. 

Quinn looked up from his phone as you walked into the lounge room. He was dressed in a pair of black dress pants and a button down with a tie that matched the colour of your dress. His hair neatly tussled in his beautiful natural way. His eyes wandered down your figure, taking in your appearance. “I like you with short hair.”

“So you want me to start wearing wigs more often?” You laugh. 

“No, I like your hair how it is naturally.”

The pair of you made your way to the car where Quinn would drive you over to campus. As the passenger, you got to control the music. What was better than listening to Blink-182 to hype you up. You arrived a little earlier than the cocktail hour so you could put your stuff at your mirror. After years of dancing, you had a particular way of setting up your makeup. Quinn waited while you ducked into the green rooms. The last thing to do was to make sure everything was in place just how you like it. So none of your quick changes would be impaired due to a misplaced accessory. After you had done that, you and Quinn meandered your way to the lobby of the theatre where they had a bar during events. Both of you ordered a soda while you waited for the others to arrive. Of course the first to arrive from the family was Luke, just finishing his freshman at UMich. But in tow behind the tallest Hughes, was the majority of his teammates. Including some of your classmates. Oh and can’t forget your older brother.

“Ayyyy,” Nolan grinned as the group neared. He held out his fist for you to fist bump. Something the pair of you have been doing since you were kids. Nolan was first to pull you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You are going to kick ass tonight.”

Luke nodded in agreement as he came to wrap his arms around you after Nolan was finished. The freshman was already a foot taller than you. It made you laugh at the boys’ comments. “It’s not a competition guys.”

Quinn rolled his eyes at the two of you. “It’s a showcase, not a competition.”

“You’ll kill it,” Luke smiles down at you.

Being Quinn’s girlfriend since freshman year, you had promised their mum to look after Luke when he finally got to UMich. And look after him you did. You were pretty sure you cooked at least three times a week for Luke, Nolan and at least two of their teammates. In return, the boys were alway looking after you. And their way of doing that was making sure everyone knew you were UMich team’s captain’s sister and dating THE Quinn Hughes. Star defenseman for the Vancouver Canucks. 

“And the best Hughes is here,” A voice interrupted.

You looked past Quinn where Jack was approaching with Ellen and Jim, the boys’ parents. “Yeah of course they are, Mama El is here.”

Jack pouted as everyone went around for hugs. Ellen made sure to squeeze you affectionately, whispering about how proud she is to be here for something other than hockey. It’s the first time she and Jim had been on campus since the Frozen Four Championship. The group huddles around a couple of barrels placed around the foyer to act as tables. 

“Miss Moyle,” Your theatre professor greets. “I have someone I’d like to introduce you to.”

Quinn stayed beside you as your professor guided you to where another one of your professors and a couple of well dressed people were chatting to them. After introductions, and the scouts getting past their awe, they talked about their companies and businesses. Luckily for the pair of you, one of your fellow dancers pulled you away to head backstage. With final goodbyes, and many good luck wishes, you and Claire went backstage. 

You stripped off your dress and hung that up. First dance concert was “A Little Party Never Killed Nobody’ and the troupe consisted of the top 21 students of the course. Your costume was a sparkly flapper dress. Once you made sure everything was perfect, feather and all, Claire, Maddie and yourself made your way to the stage. 

The large curtain was down blocking the stage from the view of the audience. Dancers were chatting between each other as they stretched and warmed up their bodies. Yourself and the girls found a free spot and started doing your own thing. You made sure to stretch your legs and back. 

“Guys,” one of the student photographers that’s hanging around called to the Opening troupe. “Can I get a picture please?!”

As a group, you all decide on doing the final poses of the dance for the picture. You were the point of the triangle and on the ground with Maddie and Claire behind you. After a hot minute you all relaxed and went back to stretching. The 5-minute warning was called and the lights behind the curtain dimmed. 

You moved into my starting position which was at the front with Claire. Both of you mirrored each other for the starting count. Julia, one of the performing arts students, stepped on stage to start off the night. Julia was a senior student who volunteered for the position of MC for the two shows. The lights dim backstage, and everyone gets in position as we hear Julia’s heels in front of the curtain.

“Good morning all, and welcome to the annual dance concert held by the Arts Students of the University of Michigan,” Julia welcomes. “The amazing show you will witness today is by the students. The dancers are the senior students of the dance department. Costumes, accessories and props were hand made by Fashion and Theatre Departments. Lighting, sound and tech are all done by the senior students of the Theatre and Production departments.”

The audience clapped and cheered.

“Before we start, please ensure mobile devices are turned off during the performance.”

There was a moment of silence for people to follow Julia’s words.

Julia hums appreciatively. “Thank you. Now onto the main event. You will see 8 different styles of dance displayed today. Acrobatics, Ballet, Contemporary, Hip Hop, Jazz, Slow Modern, Tap and Theatre all included. To kick off a killer show are the top 21 students of the dance department. They come from a range of styles. Please welcome to the stage opening with ‘A Little Party Never Killed Nobody’.”

With those words, it becomes pitch black behind the curtain as the group eagerly awaits Julia to step off stage and for the curtain to rise. Everyone was as still as a statue when the curtain began to lift. The music started and lights started dancing around the stage as you started dancing. Every student loved dance so the passion showed within their moves.

The curtain closed for the last time of the night and all of you laid on the floor. Every single one of the students were exhausted after the last week of late night rehearsals. One by one each got up and went to their green rooms to start the process of cleaning up. First, you changed into a cute playsuit you had stashed for this very moment. You then shoved all your makeup into the bag and all your shoes into your dance bag you had brought earlier. Not bothering to sort them out. All of your costumes were put back into the garment bags they came in originally with the accessories all sorted into the correct bags. With your bag over your shoulder, you piled the costumes over your arm. 

“Need help?” Ellen offers from the door.

“Yes please,” you sigh. You hand her the majority of the costumes. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Ellen led the way out of backstage and through the crowd of family and friends waiting for all the dancers. The first person you spy was Quinn standing with a large bouquet of your favourite flowers. Luke grabbed the rest of your costumes and dance bag. 

“You were absolutely amazing,” Quinn compliments, pulling you in for a kiss. After you pull away, he hands you the bouquet and turns you to where you finally see Nolan standing with your mother.

“Oh!” You grin at the sight of your family. She embraces you, careful of the flowers in your arm. “I’ve missed you.”

“Beautiful,” Your mum smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you for coming,” You mumble to her. 

She waves off your words. “I’ll always come to your dance concerts. Can we get photos?”

Quinn and yourself agree with your mum and Ellen’s request and pose with the bouquet. Then it rotates out. Jack and Luke pop in at one point. You and Nolan get photos together for your mum. Yourself and all the Hughes family. You know how parents are. Oh and can’t forget one with you and all the team that had come to support you. 

You and Quinn head to his car with everything in split between the pair of you. After the boot was filled with all of your gear, the car door was opened for you, allowing you to slide in and finally relax. Your body ached and needed to have a shower before you finally could go to bed. 

You don’t even remember falling asleep in the car though. Next thing you know Quinn is shaking you awake telling you you were home. Neither of you bothered with all your stuff in the back. It was easy enough to pull out all the costumes tomorrow. You were too tired. With your wallet and phone in hand, Quinn and yourself head straight to your bathroom to shower. Like the amazing boyfriend he was, Quinn helped you undress and take out all the pins that were left in your hair. 

“Are you sure you wanted to shower? I can draw a bath for you if you really want.”

You just shake your head in response to Quinn’s offer. Without saying a word, he got the shower ready for you two and even dimmed the lights. Like earlier in the day, you help each other wash. Shower time was one of both of yours’ favourites. It was a moment to yourselves without interruption. 

After the shower, you went to slip one of Quinn’s old UMich shirts over your body when his hands stopped you. His fingers wrapped around your wrists, halting your movement. He was naked as well as he lifted you up and slid you right under the covers. 

“I just wanna be close,” Quinn mumbles as he climbs in beside you. 

Quinn’s arms wrap around your body and drag you to lay half on top of him. You barely had the energy to move your arms at this point. You could feel the calloused fingers stroking up and down your back. He then brushed his finger through your hair every now and then as well. 

“Thank you for coming tonight,” You whisper into the darkness, turning your head to press a kiss to Quinn’s jawline. 

He chuckles, “Of course I was going to support my girl as she showed everyone how amazing of a dancer she is.”

A giggle escapes your lips as you try to snuggle further into Quinn. At this point, if you got any closer, you’d be one person. For the first time in two months, you think you could finally fully relax without anything but Quinn on your mind. Quinn’s hand massaging your sore muscles felt like heaven. It was also making you sleepy.

“Just go to sleep baby girl,” He mumbled, pressing multiple kisses to your face.

TAG LIST

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @daisysthings

#quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #vancouver canucks imagine #moyle!reader #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #swissboyhisch imagine #swissboyhisch #quinn hughes x moyle!reader #Vancouver canucks imagine #vancouver canucks imagines #vancouver canucks x reader #vancouver canucks fanfiction #vancouver canucks fic #vancouver canucks blurb #nhl imagines #nhl x reader #nhl rpf #nhl blurb #hockey blurb #hockey rpf #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fic #quinn hughes imagines #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes rpf #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fanfiction

[thomasschabot]

here comes your man

elias pettersson x director!fem!reader

great loves come around only once in a lifetime, and if you’re lucky enough they come back

word count: 3.6k

warnings: cursing, light allusion to sexual activity, alcohol consumption

a/n: this is my piece for @selfindulgentpoorlywritten in @antoineroussel’s winter fic exchange!! i hope you like it andi, i had a blast creating this angsty little world that eventually gets wrapped up with a hopeful little bow 🤍 as always, a million hugs and kisses go out to demi for organizing another majorly successful event!!!! props to @matthewtkachuk​ i guess for proofreading 0.5 seconds before i posted (love u b xx)

⭑⭒⭑

He’s impossible to forget, no matter how much you want to.

Elias Pettersson was the love of your life from the moment you laid eyes on him. It was a normal day, filled with redoing shots and redoing their blocking over and over because athletes are notoriously horrible listeners, until he came in and rocked your world as soon as he stepped in front of the camera to introduce herself. All kind eyes and confident smirks, Elias shook your hand and invited you to get drinks after finishing up so the pair of you could get to know each other better, seeing as you’ll also be following up north in a few weeks to shoot another promotional piece. The night had ended well into the morning, and you were inseparable from that moment on. Everyone around you was pleasantly surprised, knowing how much it took for you to let people in, but something about Elias just made you feel safe.

Things progressed quickly, but naturally, and eventually you moved in with him because his salary allowed for a much more prolific and comfortable lifestyle. You fit together naturally, like two sides of the same coin, and you loved him with every fibre of your being. Elias reciprocated, protecting you fiercely from overbearing Canucks fans and doing everything he could to show just how much he cared. Moments where hockey didn’t take precedence were rare, but he made them so special every single one was impossible to forget. Brock and Nils did their best to keep teasing from the team and other family members to a minimum but neither of you minded much — you were so in sync and had each other to get through whatever was going to get thrown at you.

Everything changed after the Canucks failed to make the playoffs for three consecutive years, though you understood why to a point. While the situation had been hard on you, watching him dissolve into a frustrated mess, it was excruciating on Elias — after all, he was the face of a rapidly sinking franchise. You did all you could to support him through the ups and down, taking time off work when he needed extra care and making sure he didn’t do anything that could cause too much stress and decrease the value of his sparse point production. Elias wasn’t shy about letting you know much he wanted to be back on top, picking fights when you would return from all-day shoots and giving you the cold shoulder for days when he returned from lost road trips. Despite his pain and hostility, you thought the pair of you were working through the issues, and you had been waiting for the perfect time to do the conventional and pop the question to your love.

The plan disintegrated after Elias left, crumbled like dust in the wind. You had been away on a promotional shoot with the rest of the team to hopefully quell discontented fans, with only him and a handful of Canucks staying in Vancouver to focus on recovering fully from their injuries before scattering to every corner of the world. No one had alerted you to his strange behavior, his recession into himself  — whether it had been intentional or not you’re still not sure. When you entered the condo upon your return to the city there was nothing but silence and darkness instead of Elias’s laughter and excitement bouncing off the walls. He didn’t leave a note — just packed a bag and left. You tried to call him, but the number was out of service, and no one in his family responded to your panicked messages in haphazard Swedish. Elias’s close friends in Vancouver provided no details, and you were forced to live in a paid-off unit that used to belong to the one solid person in your life but now belongs to you. You assume he came back to the city at the start of the season, but you begged for a transfer to another department and no longer work on the sports media side of the firm, so you’ve got no way to be sure since you vowed to never engage in hockey again.

Time certainly hasn’t made it easier, despite your friends endearing statistics to prove the common saying, and you spend hours every day reliving what you once had. He’s everywhere — travel mug in your office from when he used to slip away from training to eat lunch with you and the commercials you did with him over the years replaying on television so you can never escape him and the love you’ve lost. He’s still in the apartment you once shared, trinkets and books and clothes left for you to pack up and donate. Elias Pettersson made it difficult for you to move on, no matter how desperately you want to.

⭒⭑⭒

“I call dibs on the left side!” Elias shouts, pushing past you and running full speed into the hotel room. It’s All-Star Weekend, and you’ve joined your boyfriend in sunny Southern California, ready to soak up some rays when not inside the chilly arena. You needed a break from work after months of near constant shoots, and Elias was all too willing to enjoy more time by your side, even if he technically had a job to do.

You frown, upset with him for picking the side you always sleep on. “But I always sleep on the left,” you whine, before realizing you sound like a child. Instead, you square your shoulders and enter the room while doing the best you can do pretend like it doesn’t bother you.

Elias laughs when he sees you, bright and bubbly in stark contrast to your broodiness. “Oh baby,” he coos, closing the distance between your bodies and wrapping his toned arms around your waist, “I just want to be able to protect you, stay between you and the door. These young guys are like dogs and I don’t trust them.”

His concern is endearing, and you’ve never been great at staying angry with Elias. Any and all negative emotions vanish the moment he kisses you. It’s tender, loving, but with a gentle buzz of electricity humming underneath to let you know her his intentions. You’d risk your life a thousand times over if it meant you got to kiss Elias whenever you wanted.

“Okay,” you sigh breathily when he finally pulls away, breathless and moving to deadbolt the door, as if preparing for a night with no distractions whatsoever.

“Okay?”

You look at him confused, as if he couldn’t have possibly forgotten what made you upset in the first place. “You can sleep on the left side of the bed, but only if I get to be the big spoon while we watch our show.”

Elias smiles. “That’s my girl.”

⭑⭒⭑

You’d do anything to have him call dibs on part of the room right now.

Instead, you open your hotel room door to find two double beds placed a perfect distance apart. You’re bunking with Emily, your new assistant, and while she’s friendly enough and the two of you get along well, she’s not the one you want to be sharing a hotel room with in Wisconsin in the middle of January. She isn’t the one you want to brush your teeth with and make small talk about the upcoming shoot with.

There’s no real reason for you to slam your duffel on the floor beside the bed left to you, but you do. Elias isn’t here, isn’t coming back, and you need to get the fuck over yourself. Knowing doesn’t make it any easier, and when you face plant into the stiff mattress and let out a gravelly scream Emily gets incredibly concerned. She’s noticed you’ve been off since arriving at the hotel — it wouldn’t take anyone remotely close to you to realize something’s got you down in a major way.

“What’s the matter?” she asks tentatively, worried her words might set you off further. “The idiots we’re going to film over the next couple of days stressing you out?”

Emily doesn’t see you roll your eyes because they’re tucked so close to the blanket it’s suffocating, but you can’t help it. Of course she’d think your issue was the job you both came here to do — she didn’t know Elias besides him being a superstar athlete or the fact you once loved him so much it made it difficult to breathe when he was around. You remind yourself it isn’t her fault and manage to muster up a response.

“It’s nothing, I swear. Sorry for making you think there was an issue, especially about the shoot. I’m excited to do it.”

There’s no way she bought the lousy excuse, but Emily is also smart enough to leave well enough alone. If she hears you sobbing in the shower she doesn’t mention it. When you eventually step out of the bathroom and walk towards the left bed Emily gave you without a fight, you can’t help but notice she doesn’t watch television to unwind. Instead, she’s set up a puzzle on the small coffee table in the room and is working in complete silence. It was something you did with Elias as a sort of grounding exercise, to distract you both from the horrors of the real world, and you’re confused why it isn’t common practice.. The silence in the room suddenly makes your ears ring and you cover them in an attempt to block out the pain and loneliness the sound represents because Elias isn’t ever going to pressure you into watching some fishing show ever again.

She isn’t clueless and refuses to believe there isn’t something seriously wrong with you when you refuse to even look in her direction. “Okay, what the hell is going on? If you don’t want to room with me just say so. They’re other crew members I can stay with, and they’ll probably be much nicer than you.”

“No,” you sigh, so exhausted by the weight of your emotions, “I don’t have an issue with bunking with you. This is just the first time I’ve had to stay in a hotel since breaking up with my boyfriend, and we spent a lot of time together in rooms pretty much identical to this one over the years. I guess I’m struggling more than I thought.”

Emily nods like she understands, and while you don’t think she really gets the gravity of your confession, it’s nice to know someone is there for you. When she asks about him and what he was like you laugh — how do you encompass Elias Pettersson into a single sentence? The task seems impossible but Emily is patient, letting you talk as much as you want. Once the words run out and you’ve cried enough tears to fill a swimming pool the two of you turn out the lights and try to sleep. There’s still an Elias sized hole in your soul, but having someone not skirt around her in conversation because they’re afraid to see your face fall is refreshing.

⭒⭑⭒

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

You close your mouth, open it, and close it again, but no sound comes out. Elias is standing on the doorstep in a sharp all-black suit, red pocket square contrasting the darkness and knocking the breath out of your lungs. He had insisted on getting ready for your firm’s yearly charity gala separately, to ‘keep the mystery alive’, and you’re glad he left early this afternoon to get ready at Brock’s. If he hadn’t, neither of you would have made it to the event

“Shut up,” you grumble, pulling him inside and kissing him with the fire of a thousand suns. “You look like a classical sculpture.”

Elias giggles, runs a hand through his hair to tousle it to perfection, and reconnects your lips. “Me? This old thing? You’re the real smokeshow here, baby.”

The deep green long-sleeve dress you found in the back of your closest pales in comparison to what he’s wearing, but the way Elias is eyeing you makes it seem as though you’re wearing a tiara gifted personally by the Queen. A warmth creeps up the back of your neck and wraps around to your cheeks, fueling the fire for Elias to continue to marvel at you.

“Come on, you,” you sigh, looping an arm around Elias’s waist and leading him out the door. “We were supposed to pick up my boss nearly fifteen minutes ago.”

He doesn’t speak, knows you’re right, and follows you willingly. Elas does the driving, always has, and when he opens up your door he steals another quick kiss. Your laughter bounces off the roof of the car the entire way to the next destination.

⭑⭒⭑

The knock doesn’t belong to Elias. There’s no plan for him to accompany you to the gala this year. Hell, you don’t even know if he’s in the country. The Canucks schedule no longer takes up space in your mind given the split, and you don’t really even know if it’s technically hockey season anymore. You know all that, and yet you can’t stop yourself from hoping Elias will be on the other side of the door when you open it. He isn’t — it’s your friend James, looking incredibly dapper in a tuxedo that must be from his high school prom but somehow still fits. A corsage rests gingerly in his hand, and you could cry at the sight of it. The small bouquet is made of lilies and baby’s breath, known by everyone as Elias’s favourite flowers because they remind him of home.

“I thought you might want a piece of him with you tonight, even though it hurts a lot,” he says tenderly, and slips it onto your wrist. Tears well in your eyes, but they’re mostly the happy kind. Of course you wanted Elias with you, in any capacity you could get though your romance has long since gone cold, and the fact James didn’t hesitate to make it happen makes you cherish him more. Before his hand can leave yours you raise them both towards your face, placing a chaste kiss to the back of his in thanks.

He’s patient as you lock up and opens the car door for you like a true gentleman. Though you adore James Taylor and would probably follow him to war if he asked, he isn’t the person you want beside you. Your heart and soul yearns for Elias in a way no one else will ever understand. It’s sort of ridiculous that you’re still hoping because there’s been no contact for nearly ten months, but you’re a hopeless romantic at heart and want him to come back so badly. James doesn’t pretend to share your pain, which you’re incredibly thankful for, and is the only person in your life who isn’t pressuring you to get past the monumental loss that was Elias leaving.

“I miss him so much,” you sigh when the car stops at a red light.

There’s a beat of silence before he responds, as if he’s letting you feel just how much you miss your long-lost love at this very moment. “I know, kiddo. I know.” When you turn to face him, James offers a smile and turns the radio up a little louder. It takes a moment for the sound to reach your ears, but when it does you begin to cry again.

Through the crackling speakers of the old truck is the song you and Elias shared your first kiss to. It had happened on the make-shift dance floor of the wrap party for the third shoot the pair of you collaborated on , in front of everyone, but it had been absolutely perfect. You still remember the cheering from Quinn and a couple other teammates he brought along, and your friends’ fond smiles because they were relieved you finally let your guard down enough to love somebody. Time eclipses you, and you’re thrown back to that night for the rest of the song. You’re a little shaken up when the car jerks into park at the event space, and James gives you a moment to compose yourself before he leads you inside and stays close the rest of the night, always there to cheer you up when the loneliness begins to hover a little too close.

⭒⭑⭒

The years pass, torturously slow at first but then at a rapid-fire pace, and the pain of losing Elias turns into a dull ache that only flares occasionally. A passion project that started in your living room turned you away from sports related content and into the world of the silver screen, relocating you to Los Angeles and into one of the most in-demand directors for action movies that manage to still pack a gut-wrenching punch. Rarely do you have a spare moment to think these days, and almost never do you let the thoughts drift to your ex-boyfriend. 

It’s been nearly five years since he walked out, smashed your life to smithereens without a second thought, and while you’ve healed from the trauma of it all there’s still the occasional moment where something reminds you of Elias and it makes it hard to breathe. Tonight, it’s the sight of a hockey game on the television of the dive bar you frequently haunt when you’re home for more than forty-eight hours. Shallow puff of air float through your mouth as you look for him on the screen, realizing that it’s a stupid idea because Vancouver isn’t even playing. You then remember how much fun you had watching Elias’s games, and you curse him for taking something joyous away from you. Another round of drinks is ordered, the bartender eyeing you wearily but complying, and you wallow in silence for longer than you’ll ever admit to anyone. 

Hours pass and midnight is rapidly approaching. While you don’t have an early morning, not having to be at a table read until the late afternoon, you know you can’t hold your liquor the way you could when you were younger and staying out much later is going to cause more hassle than it’s worth. 

“Could I trouble you for one more and the bill?”

It’s getting increasingly loud in the dive, and you have to yell to be heard. However, it still isn’t working, and the bar staff can’t seem to understand what it is you want. Damn them for making you spend more time here. You clear your throat, about to try again, when a voice you never thought you’d hear again speaks from behind.

“Combine her tab with mine and close it out, if that isn’t too much to ask?”

The hairs along the nape of your neck bristle. “I can pay for my own drinks, thank you very much.” You refuse to turn around, knowing that if you do your resolve will crumble. Anger is the primary emotion when you think about Elias, but you also miss him so goddamn much. Never getting any closure makes things tricky. 

A chuckle fans out behind you. “Never said you couldn’t. I do, however, think it’s the very least I could do for you.”

It’s true, and you let him know it. Still facing away from him, you don’t utter another word, even after the final drinks are brought around and everything is squared away. Elias doesn’t push you, knows your stony resolve still after all the time away. The silence is deafening as you wait for him to finish his beer before downing your cocktail. Not a word is uttered between the two of you, but the air is slowly losing its tension. 

Eventually you turn towards him, haphazard and full of spite, though it’s lowering considerably. You hate the way he destroyed your life when he left, and you hate the way looking at him in the dim makes your heart soften considerably. 

“I hate you.”

“You should.”

“Are you going to apologize?” you ask, unsure why it wasn’t the first thing out of his mouth. 

Elias cocks a brow. “Will it make anything better?”

“I suppose not.”

Silence. It isn’t uncomfortable, but it isn’t like it used to be either, and you aren’t exactly sure what to do next. Elias decides for you. “I’d like to maybe work towards being friends again,” he speaks cautiously, as if he’s terrified of your reaction. “I don’t know many people in the city, or in southern California for that matter, and seeing the occasional friendly face would help out a lot.”

He explains that he was traded to Los Angeles in the off-season, and that though he knew you were around sometimes he didn’t want to reach out after all the pain you experienced because of him. You like that he doesn’t try to apologize or make excuses, just acknowledges he did a horrible thing and is content to sit with the consequences for the rest of his life.

You consider his proposal, thoroughly mull it over in your head, but you can’t find any logical reason to turn Elias down. Your parents taught you to give everyone a second chance, and it seems like you’ll be in complete control of whatever happens. 

“We can do that. Just slowly.”

A nod of understanding comes from him, and with that he stands from the bar stool he’s occupied for the last little while. “I’ll see you around then. I kept my old number for convenience, so just give me a call when you’re ready.”

You nod, mimicking Elias’s previous action, and offer a short wave as he retreats into the busying street. Los Angeles is a city that comes alive in the night, and you can’t help but wonder if the universe sent Elias to you for a second chance because it knew just how much you still loved him. Maybe you find yourself hoping this proposed friendship drifts back to the way things were, but you’ll never tell a soul.

⭑⭒⭑

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#elias pettersson imagine #elias pettersson x reader #elias pettersson fic #vancouver canucks imagine #vancouver canucks fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #cwrites #by the skin of my teeth this isn't late!!!! taking it as a win

[lvrhughes]

Marry Me | Q. Hughes

pairing: Quinn Hughes x f!reader

summary: Quinn's always been in love with you, but you're getting married.

warnings: angst, marriage?, drinking

word count: 0.6k

italics are flashbacks:)

not my gif!

You’ve been invited to Y/n Y/l/n and…

The name blurred in his eyes, irrelevant. He knew the day would come but he wasn’t ready, knocking the wind out of him as he read it. 

They’d been friends for forever, they were always seen together, it was always Quinn and Y/n. Ellen always knew they’d end up together, yet Quinn never quite got the nerve to ask. 

So they never were, letting her slip through his fingers. Falling in love with someone else while he followed her. 

“Quinn,” Her voice was breathy, sounding of excitement and fear. “You made it.” she grinned, reaching her arms out to tug around his shoulders.

Dragging him down in the process, his arms slipping around her waist, just like it used to be. It was a feeling of peace over Quinn for the moment, before she pulled away back to greeting other guests. 

She had it planned out since they were five. She’d have her granddad preaching the service, she’d have magnolias all over, never too many people. Always thinking to save her dad money, keep everything small, just her and her man. Ellen used to swear how it’d be her and quinn on the isle one day and how he wished that were true now. 

He wore his black suit, standing in the back corner. Tucked away in one of his pockets, his only flask he was given as a joke once. He never planned on using it but it seemed needed today, the strongest whiskey he had filled the flask. 

The music starting, everyone turning to see the groom enter, his tux the perfect shade of bue. Just like she’d always dreamed of.

“Quinn! Come, we’re playing wedding!” 

“What if I don’t want to play?” he teased, holding his ground as the young girl tugged on his wrist. 

“Please? Quinn, you make the best groom!” He never stood a chance, agreeing to her every ask, following her out there to be her pretend groom. 

“Would you ever marry me?” He asked, standing at the fake altar with her. 

“No! I’ve gotta marry my prince charming and you're not him!” The child grinned, imagining her perfect prince waiting for her like the movies. She wouldn’t see how it hurt Quinn, she wouldn’t see that he’d never move on. 

She looked like a princess in person, her dress was exactly the same as the one she dreamed of as a girl, her hair tied just as she wanted. The tears filled Quinn’s eyes quickly, taking a shot of whiskey to cover it up. 

“Love?” He asked, looking at the girl staring out the window. They were sixteen, he’d just gotten his license. What better than a road trip?

“Hmm?” She hummed back, turning to look at him. 

“What's on your mind?”  He asked, pulling into the parking spot of the motel for the night, leaning onto the console when he parked the car.

“I don’t know, just thinkin’”

He knew he shouldn’t, the leaning in was subconscious. Almost kissing her. He freaked out, pulling away the minute he realized what he was doing, shaking his head and the thought away. 

“Let’s get in, huh?” He asked, trying to move on. 

Even from the back row he could see the tears glistening on her father’s cheeks, the tears slipping down her grooms too. 

He was there early, he could go find her. He could get it off of his chest, tell her he still loved her, how he’s always been in love with her. But he won’t.

“Tell her! You know she loved you!” His brother's pleas fall to deaf ears, Quinn mumbling out a reply. 

“I’m not gonna mess it up.” 

He could feel the tears get closer and closer to falling with every step she took, taking more shots of whiskey, try to make it through without crying. 

Yeah she wanna get married, yeah she’s gonna get married, but she ain’t gonna marry me.

#mads writings! #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #hughes #nhl imagine #nhl one shot #nhl x reader #vancouver canucks imagine #vancouver canucks

[ilyasorokinn]

briss becoming a dad in college and everytime the guys wanna party he's always like "I can't, i got a baby to take care of now" even after you tell all the time that he can go

LET LOOSE

okay, so i'm changing it from briss to quinn just because i want to. just a personal thing, so please don't dig too deep into this. also, requests are closed so please don't send anything in.

"THE HUGHES GANG" SERIES MASTERLIST

tw: children/babies, mentions of partying

"i heard there was a party at abbott." you looked over at quinn, who was sitting against the headboard of the bed, max babbling to him in his lap.

"oh, yeah." he nodded, absentmindedly.

"you gonna go?" you asked.

"wasn't planning on it." he shrugged, "were you?"

"no." you shook your head, "was just thinking you could go, and me and max could spend some time together," you suggested.

"you getting tired of me?" he joked.

you rolled your eyes, "no, but i went out last week with the girls, was thinking maybe you could have a night off, too."

"i'm good. really."

"all right, well don't say i never did anything nice." you shrugged.

later that day, quinn was packing up his gear and getting ready to head home and see you and max, "so, hughsey?" he turned around at the call of that nickname, "you going to that party?" will asked.

"oh, nah." he shook his head, "i can't, i got a baby to take care of now." he shrugged. will looked shocked by what his teammate had just said, and could only smile.

"look at you. mr. responsible." will patted him on the back, "good for you."

after dinner, both your's and quinn's heads shot up when you heard a loud knock on your door, "were you expecting anyone?" you raised a bar at quinn, who looked equally confused.

"no. were you?" you shook your head. you paused the tv and made your way over to the door, looking through the peephole before sighing and opening the door.

"norris." you nodded.

"mrs. hughes." you rolled your eyes and scoffed at the nickname.

"quinn, your boyfriend's here!" you shouted, opening the door wider and letting josh follow you in. quinn's head perked up and he carefully got off the couch, slowly as to not jostle max too much.

"what's up?" he gave josh one of those bro hugs, "what're you doing here?"

"well, i was hoping you were ready."

"ready for what?" quinn looked confused.

"for the party. over at abbott." josh stated.

"i wasn't going to that party." he shook his head.

"oh, really? cause y/n said you were coming. and told me to pick you up." quinn looked over at you and raised a brow.

"what? i'm giving you the night off. turn off dad mode and have some fun. i did it last week while you were here with max. just go, have some fun, let loose." you told him, giving him a smile.

quinn looked like he was contemplating everything before relenting, "give me two minutes." he handed max off to you before making his way towards your bedroom to get changed.

you and josh looked at each other with satisfied smiles and high-fived, "don't get him too hammered."

"i won't, but i feel i won't have to." josh told you, "he'll probably spend the night being oblivious to girls hitting on him and show them pictures of max."

"yeah, probably." you laughed.

requests are closed so please don't send anything in :)

#quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes imagines #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurbs #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl blurbs #nhl #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fic #hockey blurbs #hockey #nhl fic #vancouver canucks imagine #vancouver canucks imagines #vancouver canucks fic #vancouver canucks blurbs #vancouver canucks #taylor writes #taylor writes: hockey #taylor's blurbs #the hughes gang series #the hughes gang #dad!quinn

[starry-hughes]

baking (quinn hughes)

day 18 of star’s ficmas

quinn hughes x mom!reader - daisy’s au

Before Christmas, on the 21st, Quinn was in Dallas. He hated when he had to be on road trips right before the holidays. You and your one and a half year old daughter were at home in Vancouver. Quinn played on the 23rd and then the three of you would fly to Michigan.

Quinn was exhausted from the whole roadtrip, he missed you and Daisy. It was the night of the 22nd, almost midnight when he arrived home. Two years ago, if you would have asked him what he was missing for Christmas, he didn’t know what to say. That was before you came along and before the two of you started hooking up, before you got pregnant and before Daisy came along.

Daisy was a baby for her first Christmas so this year, she was running around, yanking ornaments off the tree and crying whenever she saw Mall Santa.

Quinn was traveling home after the game in Dallas. It was late and he was tired. He still had to come home and pack for Michigan and all he wanted was to curl into the bed with you and Daisy.

He wasn’t expecting anyone to be awake when he got home, it was late. He unlocked the door and saw the Christmas lights on and giggling from the kitchen. He saw packed suitcases by the door, you had packed everything for him.

“I think it’s someone’s bedtime,” Quinn broke out into a smile as he entered the kitchen. Daisy was in her pajamas and wide awake. “Daddy!” she screeched and jumped off her stool ran over to him. “Hi baby,” he said and picked her up. Quinn carried her over to you, he kissed you softly. “Welcome home, Daisy couldn’t sleep,” you said.

Quinn looked at the counter, seeing rolled out cookie dough with cookie cutters. “Making cookies?” he looked at Daisy. “Santa! At gamma’s!”

“That’s right baby, Santa knows you’re at grandma’s this Christmas,” you smiled. Quinn let Daisy down on the floor after she was wriggling in his arms. “Daddy help!”

Quinn happily put on the pink apron Daisy brought over for him. The three of you worked on cookies, using the cookie cutters and putting them into the oven. You taught her how to crack eggs open and Quinn was helping her whisk in the flour gently. Daisy was getting tired, she had left her little stool and begged for you to hold her. “Baby, do you want to decorate cookies?” you asked.

“We can package them up and she can decorate them at the game or on the flight tomorrow,” Quinn suggested. Quinn pulled the cookies out to cool and Daisy had fallen asleep on your shoulder. Quinn turned on her nightlight in her bedroom and you placed her into bed and tucked her in. Her mini Christmas tree sat on her dresser all lit up, along with the small menorah.

It was super late now, but you wanted the kitchen clean. “Quinn honey you can sleep, I know you’re tired.” He shook his head. “I want to be in bed with you so let me help.” You packed up the cookies and decorating items for Daisy. You finished up everything and Quinn said he would be in the bedroom right after you, he was finishing up drying one of the cookie sheets. “Hey,” he called, pulling you into him, he had put down the drying towel, “I love you. Merry Christmas.”

#daisy’s au! #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes fic #vancouver canucks imagine #canucks imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #quinn hughes blurb #star’s ficmas