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elliehughesyapss · 29 days ago

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WHY DO I NEED A PART TWO. MAYBE HER TELLING THEM SHE GOT A BF.THAT WOULD BE SO FUNNY, AND IF YOU DON’T DO IT IM GETTING CHATGPT

౨ৎ SPILLING THE TEA ; HUGHES BROTHERS !

➪ summary: 3 times where y/n needs to tell her brothers about the drama going on at her school no matter where they are or who they're with, or what it'll take to tell them

➪ pairing: quinn hughes x sister!reader, jack hughes x sister!reader, luke hughes x sister!reader

➪ warnings: none (mostly proofread, improvement)

➪ word count: 1.6k

➪ emma's notes: i wasn't going to edit this bc last night i did not have the motivation but then i woke up and edited it so 😛 also this is out earlier than normal bc i won't be home so yes!

�� laceyhearts ; do not copy, repost, translate, or put my work through ai generators. do not copy or remake my themes, graphics, or layouts.

1. scheduled tea time (ft. brock boeser) ; reader: 18, quinn: 24 ; november of 2023

He should’ve expected the call; it was a Saturday, and he had no plans for the day after practice. But he was oblivious to his phone ringing in his bag, too focused on changing and gathering the rest of his things to realize it.

Just as he was about to leave, he felt a hand on his shoulder, looking back to see his teammate standing there, “Hey, uh, y/n called me? She said you missed ‘tea time’.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, his hand reaching for his phone before pausing, “Wait, how’d she get your number?”

“It doesn’t matter, just put the phone to your ear, Quintin, or call me.” The voice was mumbled, but he knew it all too well.

Brock held his hands up in surrender as he hung up his phone, leaving his captain to call his sister from his own phone.

And two minutes later, Quinn was launched into a conversation about two kids he barely knew, “Anna and Neil broke up!”

Quinn shook his head. “Who?”

“You know, Neil Castro and Anna Cunningham? They broke up, bro. They were endgame too! This is so rigged.”

“Wait, wait, who? You can’t just give me names, y/n/n.” He started walking out of the locker room, grabbing his keys from his back pocket.

“Anna is one of the girls on the team with me, and Neil is one of the guys on the football team. They were endgame. I swear I told you about them.”

“Oh, is he the one who got you all to do that one cheesy promposal thing last year?”

“Yes! I can’t believe they broke up Quinn. I have no hope for finding a relationship if they didn’t last. Love isn’t real.”

Quinn just chuckled as he got into his car and started driving out of the parking lot, “I’m sure you’ll find someone, y/n/n. Just give it time.”

“You sound like every taken girl who is trying to reassure her single best friend that there’s someone out there for her.” She groaned loudly, “Anyway. Other drama I need to catch you up on.”

“Hit me.”

“So David and Pen got together, he asked her out after her game the other day.”

“Is Pen the one who kind of looks like that chick from Pretty Woman?”

“You mean Julia Roberts? Quinn, we seriously have to educate you. And I found out that this guy likes me. Which, before you say a single word, Quintin, he looks like Jack, and I would not like to date someone who looks like my brother, thank you very much.”

“Okay then…”

“And he’s a total creep, one time Ruby found him staring at us during practice, like just sitting in the bleachers.”

“Yep, I retract my statement that I never said.”

And for the next twenty minutes, Quinn sat in a majority of silence, only making a few comments here and there as his little sister continued to ramble on about people he’s never met.

“Okay, I have homework to do. Bye Quinn!”

“Bye y/n/n.”

⎯⎯⎯ ౨ৎ ⎯⎯⎯

2. who said what (w/ the new jersey devils) ; reader: 16, jack: 20 ; september of 2021

The unexpected ringing of a phone made the rest of the guys who were in the locker room jump. Each one fumbled for their phones, Jack coming up the lucky one. However, he groaned when he saw who was calling him, “Who is it?”

“My sister.” He threw his jacket on before answering the call, “Hey.”

“Jack, oh my god!”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”

“‘What’s wrong?’ Nothing. Well, that’s not true, but nothing’s wrong with me personally. I have just have news.”

“Okay…?” He put it on speaker and placed it on the bench before continuing to put his shoes on.

“So basically, I was in class today and this guy came in.”

“Wait, you’re on speaker.”

“Who’s there?”

“Uh, Nico, Kevin, Dougie, Daws, Jesper.”

“Oh, okay! Ask them if they want to hear the drama!”

Jack eyed his teammates, who all shrugged and took a seat near his phone, “Talk away, little Hughes.”

She grinned, “This guy came into class today and he had a homecoming poster.”

“Did someone ask you to homecoming?” “Was he cute?” “What’d the sign say?”

“Okay, okay, hold. Nico, no one asked me to homecoming. Daws, no, he was not cute, unfortunately. And Jack the sign said, ‘Would you be my chick at Hoco’ with food from Chick-Fil-A.”

They all nodded their heads, her answers fulfilling their questions, “Okay, proceed.”

“So Dylan, that’s the guy's name, asked Elizabeth to homecoming, but here’s the catch, he was still quote-unquote dating Layla.”

“He what?”

“I know, right? But that’s not all.”

The 6 exchange looks at each other, all slowly growing more intrigued by the second, “Go on.”

“Dylan’s about to get sleazier. So Elizabeth was the girl his best friend had a crush on, his best friend was Brandon, and Brandon was going to ask her out to homecoming with the same poster on the same day, just later.

”It doesn’t end there. I heard from Shannon, she’s my best friend. Anyway, I heard from Shannon, who heard from Brenda, who heard from her brother Liam, who heard from his girlfriend Chloe, who heard from Addison that Layla was going to break up with Dylan to ask Brandon to hoco. So I guess Layla wasn’t hurt by it but still, that’s fucking shitty.”

The boys all nodded wordlessly, trying to keep up with all the information that was being thrown at them. Jesper finally spoke, “Aren’t you just a sophomore?”

“That is totally besides the point, Jesper. But these are seniors fyi.”

“And how do you have all the senior drama?”

“One, they’re popular. Two, I have connections.”

“Connections, huh?” Nico’s voice filled her room.

“Yes, connections, Nico. I am a very popular girl, contrary to people’s belief.”

“Aww, little shy y/n is all popular with a bunch of friends.” Jack teases.

“Okay, this is not why I called. I’m hanging up now! Bye, boys.”

“Wait, wait, wait!”

“Yes, Douglas?”

“Next time shit happens I want to know, I’ll have Jack send you my number.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

“Uh, excuse me, I’m the captain.”

“Mhm, I’m aware. You’re all Jack talks about, it’s always Nico this and Nico that.” Y/n mocks.

“Goodbye, Y/n!”

“Bye, Jacky!”

⎯⎯⎯ ౨ৎ ⎯⎯⎯

3. personal drama (w/ the umich wolverines) ; reader: 17, luke: 19 ; september of 2022

Luke was lounging on the couch surrounded by most of his team members when he got her call. At first, he was hesitant to answer it because he didn’t have the energy to do much, but the voice in the back of his mind told him to answer anyway.

“What’s up, y/n/n?”

“Luke! Okay, so, big news. Like massive.”

She could hear his groan on the other side, “Don’t give me that. You’re going to want to hear this. Put me on FaceTime!”

He rolled his eyes but did as instructed. He propped his phone against his water bottle. “Say hi to everyone.”

Everyone’s head popped into the frame, and she waved excitedly, “Hi! Oh! You guys are going to want to hear this, too.”

Her words caused all of them to scoot closer to Luke to see her better, watching as she talked animatedly, “So apparently, wait, do you remember Clara and Ruby?”

Luke nodded his head while the others shrugged cluelessly, Luke clueing them in on who people were “Right, so Clara and Ruby have been beefing since like freshman year for no fucking reason.”

“Language.”

“Would you stop with that? I’m eighteen, Lukas.”

“Almost eighteen, y/n. Now, continue before I hang up.

She whined, making the others laugh, but continued, “We were at practice before the game, and suddenly Ruby knocked on my car window with tears streaming down her face.”

Y/n took a sip of her water before going on, “And what happened was that Clara was talking shit about me and Ruby was not having it so-”

“Wait, what’d she say about you?” Rutger chimed in from behind Luke.

The girl only shrugged, “No clue, still trying to find that part out. All I’ve heard is that it was pathetic and douchey, so probably not something vary good.”

This caused all the boys’ eyes to narrow at her, “Are you lying?”

“What, no? That’s preposterous.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Tell us.”

“She called me a slut.”

This only made Luke bark out a laugh, “That’s impossible. You haven’t even had your first kiss yet.”

Y/n blushed a bright shade of red, murkiness, “That’s besides the point, Luke. And why do you always have to embarrass me in front of your friends?”

She buried her head into her hands, not daring to look at them. The boys chuckled before Adam spoke, “Don’t worry, we still find you adorable.”

She only blushed harder at his words, Luke hitting him in the arm, “Dude, that’s my sister.”

After a few minutes of awkward silence, y/n finally remembered why she called them in the first place, “Right, anyway, back to the entire reason we’re talking in the first place.

“Ruby yelled at Clara, like badly, but then she talked to Caldwell, one of our coaches, and she’s not in trouble, so that’s good. But jeez, I swear yesterday couldn’t have been more chaotic.”

“Well, thanks for the update?”

Even though she knew his voice was sarcastic, she still smiled, “Anytime. Now I have to go tell Jack because I know he’s getting out of practice, and the last time I told him something, Nico and Dougie were there and they wanted to know everything.”

HUGHES BROTHERS MASTERLIST ; NHL MASTERLIST ; OTHER MASTERLISTS

JOIN THE TAGLIST ; MY NAVIGATION

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elliehughesyapss · 30 days ago

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WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK HAPPEND, I OPEN TUMBLR JUST FO SEE THIES AND CRY WHAT DA FUCK DO YOU MEAN HE SLAMED THE DOOR

umich hockey groupchat leaked! — part 14 — [✩] umich hockey au masterlist

including: Luke Hughes, Ethan Edwards, Mark Estapa, Dylan Duke, Mackie Samoskevich, Tyler Duke, Rutger Mcgroarty, Adam Fantilli, and Luca Fantilli

-> associated with this blurb

warnings! sexual jokes, slight angst

a/n: part 14! sorry if this hurts a bit... i promise it will get better soon!!

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elliehughesyapss · 1 month ago

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THIS MADE ME BAWL MY EYES OUT. i think it's because i was little like rylan when my parents got divorced but your writing is so good.

THINGS HE NEVER EARNED.

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎pairing quinn hughes x single mom!reader

SUMMARY quinn takes rylan into the city for an afternoon of hot chocolate and laughs while you return home to face the man who broke you. rylan doesn’t ask many questions, just holds onto the safety quinn gives him. when you return, shaken but still standing, you find your son smiling in a way he hasn’t in a long time. word count 2.4k

contains fem!reader, single mother!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, anxiety, emotional manipulation, arguing, absent father

note this chapter is a bit on the shorter side, but i have big plans for chapter 3 (rubs hands)

QH43 MASTERLIST SERIES MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER 2 NEXT

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You tried to focus on his voice—bright and sweet—but your mind kept jumping ahead to your mother’s call, to the sound of worry in her voice, to the sharp-edged silhouette you could already picture pacing your parents’ porch.

You turned left, even though right would have taken you home, your breath catching in your throat.

“Ry?” you managed, voice straining to stay calm. “Change of plans, okay? I need to go see Grandma alone for a bit. How about you hang out with Quinn instead?”

He looked up, startled at first, a frown forming, but then you saw it, the light returning to his eyes that made your chest ache.

“With Quinn? Really?” he asked, hopeful.

You nodded, trying to smile. “Yeah. Just for a while. I’ll come back for you as soon as I can.”

“Can we get hot chocolate?” he blurted, already halfway sold on the idea.

A tight laugh escaped you. “Ask Quinn, okay?”

He was practically bouncing by the time you pulled back into the rink’s lot, the tension in your body draining just enough to let you breathe again. Quinn was still there, standing by the rail, phone in his hand, scanning the road as though he’d been waiting for you.

When you stepped out, he took one look at your face and knew.

“He can’t come,” you said, voice low and nearly breaking. “Not to that. I can’t let him see Matthew like this.”

Quinn nodded, no question in his eyes. “Of course,” he said, simple as a promise.

You turned to unbuckle Rylan, who was practically jumping out of his seat.

“Hey, bud,” Quinn called as Rylan scrambled toward him, “you hungry? Thirsty?”

Rylan’s grin was huge. “Yes! Can we get hot chocolate? Please?”

Quinn’s smile softened. “You bet.”

You stood there a second longer, absorbing that tiny piece of relief.

“Thank you,” you whispered, voice cracking.

Quinn only shook his head, resting a steady hand on Rylan’s shoulder. “Go,” he told you. “We’ll be okay.”

You nodded, blinked hard against the sting in your eyes, then stepped back to the driver’s seat. Rylan was already rattling off his order to Quinn, voice carrying over the lot like he’d been handed the best surprise of the week.

You gripped the wheel tight as you pulled away, letting yourself hold that image for a moment—your son safe, happy, watched over—before the road ahead swallowed you whole, leading you straight toward the war waiting on your mother’s porch.

The neighbourhood looked almost exactly the way it had for your entire childhood—the same narrow sidewalks dusted with leftover salt, the same hedges half-frozen in the winter air, the same sagging mailbox at the end of the walk. But tonight, a tension loomed over everything, making the street seem foreign.

Your mother’s house came into view, its porch light flickering softly against the darkening blue of late afternoon. There was a shape in front of it—a posture you knew too well, and even at a distance, you could spot the easy arrogance of someone who never expected to be told no.

Matthew.

He was leaning against the railing, hands shoved in the pockets of an expensive coat, scanning the street like he’d been there for hours. He was able to make the porch behind him look small and fragile somehow.

Your breath caught, your hands going clammy against the wheel. You slowed to a stop a few houses down, engine idling, trying to steel yourself. For Rylan. For yourself.

You turned the key, the engine falling silent, then stepped out, boots crunching on the salted sidewalk. Each step up the walkway felt like you were dragging an anchor behind you, every nerve in your body braced for the worst.

He turned the second you reached the steps, that familiar smile—polite, cold, and wrong—spreading across his face like a bad habit he couldn’t quit.

“There she is,” he said, his voice so calm that it made your stomach twist. “I was wondering how long you’d hide.”

You clenched your hands around the railing, steadying yourself. “I’m not hiding,” you told him, careful to keep your tone even. “I was with Rylan.”

A flash of something—jealousy?—crossed his eyes. “Is that what you call it now?” he snapped, jaw tightening. “Dropping him off with Hughes so you can play house?”

Your pulse kicked painfully behind your ribs. “Quinn is helping him,” you said, voice sharper than you meant, but at this point, you didn’t care. “Because you aren’t.”

He laughed—short and humourless. “That’s cute. Really. You really think that kid won’t see through it? That he won’t figure out you’re parading him around so you can get your hooks into another hockey player?”

It took everything in you not to flinch. “This isn’t about Quinn,” you said, forcing the words out. “This is about you showing up here, making a scene in front of my family. You don’t get to do that.”

“I’m his father,” Matthew hissed, stepping closer. “I can show up wherever the hell I want.”

You noticed a shadow shift behind the frosted glass of the front door—your mother’s silhouette, but she didn’t open it or interrupt. Part of you was grateful for that.

“Matthew,” you said, carefully, breathing through the anger, “if you want to talk about Rylan, fine. We can make an appointment with the lawyer. But you are not going to scare my parents, and you are not going to put Rylan in the middle of this.”

He sneered, leaning in until you could smell the cologne he still wore, the same brand that made you sick with memory. “You think you’re in control?” he bit out. “That’s adorable.”

You straightened, heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “No,” you said lowly, but certain of your words. “I think I’m done letting you decide what control looks like.”

His eyes flickered—the smallest crack in the mask—and you grabbed it, held it tight, refusing to let it go.

“He doesn’t need your version of love,” you went on, voice shaking, but you kept going. “He needs someone who shows up. If that’s you? Fine. Prove it. But you don’t get to stand here and threaten me because another man actually cares enough to teach him how to skate.”

For a moment, you noticed the intense anger behind his eyes. You were sure he was going to start screaming. But then he stepped back, his mouth twisting into a grimace.

“This isn’t over,” he growled, turning on his heel and storming down the path, boots echoing against the sidewalk as he went.

You stayed frozen on the steps, chest heaving, hands numb with adrenaline. Only when he disappeared around the corner did you finally exhale, the air leaving your lungs in a rush that made your knees tremble.

The front door eased open then, your mother’s voice soft and afraid.

“Sweetheart?”

Blinking through the blur of hot tears, you turned and stepped into the doorway. She pulled you in, enveloping you in the familiar warmth of the hall. Away from the dark street and everything still waiting for you there, you were safe and sound.

Quinn didn’t say much as they walked back toward his car, Rylan chattering at his side, small gloved hand swinging free between them. The sun had already dropped low behind the skyline, leaving the streets washed in that blue-tinted winter dusk, headlights of cars gleaming off slushy puddles along the curbs.

“Can we really get hot chocolate?” Rylan asked, bouncing a little as he stepped around a patch of ice.

Quinn glanced down at him, trying to smile. “Yeah, kiddo. Of course.”

Rylan’s grin was so wide it nearly broke Quinn’s heart. He had seen enough kids dragged around after messy divorces, guys on his team with stories about their weekend with their kids, and the odd junior teammate with parents who couldn’t look each other in the eye. But this felt different. Despite his small shoulders, Rylan seemed to carry every disappointment like it was stitched into the lining of his hoodie.

He deserved more than that.

Quinn tugged the passenger door open, ruffling Rylan’s hair before buckling him in. “You okay?” he asked, gently.

Rylan shrugged, eyes darting out the window. “Mom said she had to handle something.”

“Yeah,” Quinn agreed, voice soft. “She did.”

Rylan kicked his feet a bit, stick still cradled against his knees like a security blanket. “Is she mad at me?”

Quinn’s chest twisted, sharp and painful, like a knife had gone straight through his heart. “No, bud,” he said immediately. “None of this is about you, okay? You’re awesome. You know that, right?”

Rylan nodded, but it was the kind of nod Quinn had seen a hundred times before: trying to be brave, even if you didn’t feel it.

They drove through side streets to a local café, Rylan’s commentary fading as he stared out at the passing cars. Quinn tried to fill the silence with small questions, like what the best part of practice was and if he wanted to pick out a new sticker for his helmet. But Rylan only answered in short, distracted replies.

By the time they pulled into the parking lot, Quinn was thinking of your face at the rink, the way your shoulders had gone tight, how your hands had been shaking as you put the car in gear. He’d known then that something was wrong, but he hadn’t asked. He didn’t need to.

He knew exactly the kind of man who made you look like that.

He’d seen them before.

“Hey,” he tried again as they stepped inside, the warmth of the shop rushing up to meet them, sweet and heavy with coffee and steamed milk. “You wanna order for both of us?”

That got a shy grin to appear on Rylan’s face. “Really?”

“Yeah. Surprise me.”

Rylan studied the menu with sudden purpose, his mood lifting just a bit, and Quinn let him have it, grateful for the tiny moment of normal. He leaned against the counter, scanning the street through the big plate-glass window, trying not to picture you alone with your ex, trying not to imagine how badly that conversation might hurt.

The thought made his stomach twist.

He was a hockey player; he was used to bruises, to blood, to pain, but the idea of someone putting that look on your face again made something in him burn.

Rylan tapped his elbow. “Quinn? They asked what size.”

Quinn blinked, then nodded, forcing a smile. “Large,” he said. “Definitely large.”

They found a corner table by the window, the kind with cold metal chairs and a view of the steady drive of evening traffic outside. Rylan balanced his cup on the edge, swirling the marshmallows of all different sizes around. He looked more like a kid again than Quinn had seen him all day.

Quinn sipped his own quietly, letting the sweetness ground him for a moment. He kept one eye on Rylan, who was happily rattling on about how he’d pick the peppermint flavour next time, how he wanted to skate backwards faster, and how maybe one day he’d be as good as Quinn.

This did something to him. Spending time with Rylan had settled into a soft spot in his heart. This was a boy who still believed in people, still had room to light up like this even when so much had been taken from him.

Rylan glanced up mid-sentence, worry etched on his face. “Is Mom okay?”

Quinn set his cup down. “She’s handling something hard,” he answered honestly, but softly. “But she’ll be okay.”

Rylan nodded, his trust so easy it made Quinn want to protect it with everything he had.

His phone buzzed on the table a few minutes later, rattling against his half-empty cup.

You Hey, I’m coming to get him soon Thank you for keeping him busy

Quinn typed back quickly, one-handed so he could keep listening to Rylan’s new story about scoring on a breakaway.

Quinn Anytime We’re at Delany’s on Commercial Drive. Take your time

Rylan slurped the last of his drink, even though Quinn was certain it was still scorching hot. He shot Rylan a disapproving look, as if to say, “Be careful.”

“Quinn, look!” He pointed out the window where a bus rumbled past, its side covered in a giant Canucks logo. “It’s you!”

Quinn chuckled, heat prickling the back of his neck. “Yeah, bud. That’s me.”

They laughed together, a small moment, but normal and sweet nevertheless, something Quinn knew you would have wanted for him.

Fifteen minutes later, you pulled up outside the café, headlights washing across the sidewalk. Quinn watched you get out, faint traces of worry etched into the corners of your eyes, but relief too, like the hardest part was over.

Rylan spotted you first. “Mom!” he yelled, launching off his seat, nearly knocking his empty cup over.

You barely had a second to brace before he was barreling into you, arms around your waist, face warm against your coat. You could feel your son’s joy pressing into every crack in your heart.

“Hey, baby,” you breathed, smoothing his hair, letting that sweetness settle through you. “Did you have fun?”

He nodded so hard you could feel it through his hug. “We had chocolate milk with extra marshmallows! And Quinn said I get to try wrist shots next time!”

You glanced over Rylan’s shoulder to Quinn, who stood just outside the café doors, his own cup in hand, meeting your eyes, which somehow made you feel a little less alone.

“Thank you,” you told him quietly, swallowing down the ache in your throat.

He shook his head gently, reassuring you. “Anytime,” he said again, and meant it.

You held Rylan tighter, heart still pounding from everything you’d left back on that porch, but here, for one small second, it felt like you could breathe again.

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PREVIOUS CHAPTER 2 NEXT

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elliehughesyapss · 1 month ago

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OMG THIS IS SO GOOD

2.2: I'D GO BACK IN TIME AND CHANGE IT, BUT I CAN'T

Jack Hughes x Andrea Lance (oc) - masterlist

Summary: jack and andrea deal with the mistakes they made last night on their drive to the airport

a/n: things will be happening

Typically, Andrea would’ve stayed up into the early hours of the morning cleaning up the mess left by party goers around the Hughes residence. But drunk, confused, and quietly hurt, Drea passed out as soon as the party died down—in her clothes and makeup—still thinking about Jack.

The morning after his celebration was quiet, despite an awkward yet clarifying conversation with Ellie about the events of last night. Her slumber was long enough that she was the last person to saunter into the living room that morning. Andrea looked different from her first days in Michigan—she wore sweatpants, bare faced with her glasses perched on her nose. She was still beautiful–of course–in that easy way.

The energy was no different today than it was yesterday the boys greeted her with their hungover yet equally cheerful good mornings. The house seemed to be in better condition probably from Jack and Quinn’s doing and the hopes of not being caught.

Jack still greeted her that morning but it was so different than the day before—he nodded in her direction, not uttering a word to her. Not because he was mad at her but because he was disappointed in himself.

Some time throughout the morning Jim and Ellen had come back, unsuspecting of anything that happened the night before.

Ellen pulled her middle son aside, watching as Andrea quietly slipped into the guest room to gather her things.

“Here,” she said, placing the keys to her brand-new SUV in Jack’s hand. “Go take her to the airport.”

Jack frowned. “Can’t Quinn do it?”

“No,” she replied, pinching the bridge of her nose. “That nice girl flew here for you—for your birthday.”

“But, Mom—” he sighed, knowing that he’d never won a battle with his mother.

She cut him off sharply, voice low but stern. “Jack Rowden Hughes. You’re taking her.”

Jack looked down at the metal in his hand, wondering if the ride would be as silent as he hoped.

Andrea walked out, duffel heavy on her right shoulder, rolling her carry-on with her other hand. She looked tired, as if the events from the past few days had drained something out of her, and her usual content smile faltered into one of a wistful nature—like she didn’t believe it herself.

Drea stood in front of Ellen, who smiled back at her before she spoke. “I just wanna say thank you for letting me stay here.”

Ellen smiled warmly and reached out to gently squeeze Andrea’s arm. “You’re always welcome here, sweetheart. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

Something about the Hughes family was captivating, because Andrea—who never initiated a hug before—wrapped her arms around Ellen, whispering, “I won’t,” before pulling back. She brushed a strand of hair away from her face as she turned to leave.

She left Cole and Alex with a quick “bye” and some joke about their bartending skills. Quinn and Luke waved her off, mentioning something about “not wasting any time,” whatever that meant. Trevor gave her an awkward side hug that left her just as confused as both Ellie and Jack.

Her final hug was reserved for the youngest Hughes. Ellie had liked the 48 hours where there was another girl in the house, so maybe her hug was a little tighter than the others.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Ellie replied, her voice light but understanding.

Before her final goodbye, Drea whispered just low enough for her to hear, “Just give him time… and keep me updated.”

Ellie grinned at her words and promised to do so.

Then Andrea turned to Jack, who was already at the door with his lips pressed into a thin line, his expression unreadable.

Still carrying her duffel, she rolled her suitcase toward the door, lifting a hand in a final wave—only to stop dead in her tracks when Jack silently took the carry-on from her. Without a word, he rolled it to the trunk and even went as far as opening the passenger-side door for her.

Drea paused, surprised by both his silence and the gesture. Jack remained wordless, breathing through his nose like he was bracing himself. She climbed into the passenger seat, letting her bag settle between her legs.

The first ten minutes in the car were pure silence. Jack hadn’t even bothered to turn on the radio. He stared at the road ahead like it personally offended him.

Drea had leaned her head against the window, letting the suburban streets overtake her vision.

He was never good at the silent treatment—not when he was ten and Luke spilled Gatorade all over his favorite signed jersey—and not now, when he was freshly eighteen, sitting beside the girl he had made space for in his fast-paced, rising-phenom life.

Drea was in her purest form, and Jack unintentionally committed every piece of her to memory. She did kiss Trevor last night, but nothing had changed about her. The stillness of the moment punished him, wondering if she felt the same way right now—like he was punishing her. He’d never be responsible for her hurt. Jack had seen, personally, over the months they’d known each other, how deeply she felt, how much she cared about what others thought.

Jack’s words cut through the silence, looking over at her. “You okay?”

Andrea’s shoulders relaxed a bit, letting the delicate frames rest low on her nose. “I think I’m just tired. Or hungover. Maybe both.” Her tone was light, teetering between awkwardness and sarcasm.

“I bet,” his laugh was short and clipped, like there was something deeper behind it.

“I’m shocked you’re even upright right now,” she giggled for a second before adding, “didn’t really see you much after our game though.” Andrea’s voice trailed off near the end.

“Thought you were in good hands with Trev.”

She buried her face in her hands. “Gosh, don’t remind me.”

“Seriously, Trev’s a good pick if you had to pick someone, I guess…” He averted his gaze from her, like he was preparing himself to hear that it had been Trevor all along.

“Considering I told him it was a mistake afterward, I wouldn’t really say I picked him.”

Oh.

That caught him off guard.

“Totally saw you and Karlee though.”

His eyes narrowed at the mention of his ex. “How do you know her na—Ellie.”

She recalled her and Ellie’s conversation that had been more than telling about his history with the blonde. “Your sister is surprisingly informative.”

“Karlee is a lot of things, and one of those things was a giant accident that I made.”

“She’s that bad?”

“Yeah.”

Now it was Drea’s turn to say, “Oh.”

Jack laughed for real this time. “Guess we both made some mistakes, huh.”

“Definitely,” she answered, stifling her own laughter.

There was a beat of silence once again, but not the type that suffocated them—the type that they thrived in on those late nights where they’d still be on the phone, both packing their practice bags for the morning.

When they were at a stoplight, he looked over at her before asking her a simple question.

“How long till your flight leaves?”

“Four hours,” she answered, looking back at the road.

Before Drea could ask why, the car swerved into a sharp U-turn that could not have been close to legal.

Still gripping the grab handle on her side, Jack was all smiles—one hand steady on the wheel, the other casually slung across the top of it like he hadn’t just made an obviously illegal U-turn.

Andrea was still clinging to the grab handle, eyes wide. “What the hell was that?!”

“Relax,” Jack said, not even trying to hide his grin. “It was safe. Mostly.”

“Mostly?! You almost hit a soccer mom.”

He shrugged. “Keyword there: almost.”

Andrea stared at him, trying to decide if he’d finally lost it, then let out a small, disbelieving laugh. “And you tried to get us killed because…?”

“You’ve got time, then.”

“For what?”

“Pancakes—and not the gross, soggy microwaved kind at the airport,” he answered matter-of-factly.

She scolded him about his lack of road safety until a ’50s-themed breakfast-only diner came into view.

Jack knew that airports were unreliable because his parents had drilled it into him whenever Quinn began to have his away games. He would have preferred to have gone inside and sat across from her and just listened to her for hours.

They rolled into the drive-thru straight to the window, like Jack didn’t need a minute to ponder his food choices or give her a moment to think about hers.

“Do you trust me?” Jack asked.

That was a loaded question because she trusted him probably more than she ever trusted anyone in her life.

Andrea snapped out of her thoughts and mumbled a low, “Yeah.”

He proceeded to order for both of them with that natural lilt of charm his voice always clung to. “So we’re gonna have a brown sugar short stack with fruits—no bananas—and syrup, and another short stack with syrup and some scrambled eggs. Then a vanilla shake and—?”

He paused to see what drink she wanted, but Drea pointed to her water bottle in response.

“And that’s it.”

“No bananas?”

“You hate the texture, ’member.”

Before she could say something, a tired twenty-year-old handed Jack their food, one bag in the center console and the other in her lap. The aroma of vanilla overtook the car as they parked in an empty lot a couple of blocks toward their original direction.

Jack cut the engine, and the quiet that followed was a welcome shift from the rumble of the drive. Andrea cracked open the bag in her lap, passing Jack his food.

“This your peace offering for almost killing me?”

“That, and you deserved a proper goodbye.”

She froze a little at the word goodbye—because that meant life returned back to normal, or her version of normal. The normal where Jack was states away, and she could only hear his voice through her phone.

“And you needed to see my epic breakfast tacos in real life,” he said, shoveling eggs on top of his pancake and folding it in half.

“You’re actually gonna eat that?”

“Not yet,” he paused, ripping open the syrup packet with his teeth, which was more entertaining than Drea would admit. Jack drizzled it on top of his “taco” before taking a bite only a teenage boy would have stomached.

Popping a strawberry into her mouth, Andrea wrinkled her nose at his action. She cut into her food, savoring the taste as Jack made a complete mess of his face and fingers.

Maple syrup dripped from the corner of his lip, just below that mole on his cheek. As if it were second nature, Andrea used the pad of her thumb to swipe it off.

He froze at the contact because it felt so comfortable, so natural. Jack watched her lick her thumb, apologizing for her “mom behavior.”

He looked at her—really looked at her. “Drea?”

“Yeah?”

“Come to my draft.”

She blinked. “What?”

Jack’s voice was more steady this time. “Next month is my draft. And I want you there.”

Andrea lowered her fork, brow furrowing. “Jack, I can’t. Don’t you only get a few tickets? I’m not—your family, I mean. I don’t want to take a spot from someone who actually—”

“You are someone who actually,” he interrupted gently.

She met his eyes again. “Where?”

“Vancouver.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“I’m presenting a title and doing a short program there a couple days before, so I’ll be there.”

Jack’s smile was a bit wider than usual, trying to act like her acceptance didn’t make him feel a million different versions of nervous, excited, and uncertain.Their conversation carried on through Jack finishing the monstrosity that he called a breakfast taco, and even when he convinced her to take a sip of his shake on the way to the airport. As they pulled into the airport drop-off lane, Jack slowed to a stop, not quite ready for their bubble to burst. He put the car into park as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

Andrea took a breath before opening her door, slinging her bag on her shoulder. Jack was already popping his trunk and rolling her luggage out toward the curb.

Cars honked and traffic moved around them, but they remained still, standing across from each other. There was so much to say, yet silence suffocated them.

Jack started, “I’m really glad you came.”

“Me too.”

Andrea stepped close, arms looping behind his neck. He pulled her in, arms tight around her waist, face buried in her hair.

She took it upon herself to pull back first, picking her bag up and getting hold of her suitcase.

“Vancouver,” she whispered, like a promise.

He nodded. “Vancouver.”

Jack watched her every step, like if he blinked too long, she might disappear.

Just before the sliding glass doors opened to swallow her into the terminal, she paused and turned back around. “Make sure you open my gift,” was the last thing she said to him before walking through the doors.

taglist - @jaes-last-words , @hwalllllllelujah

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elliehughesyapss · 1 month ago

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I LOVE THIS SO MUCH

The ‘tooth’ hurts || qh43

masterlist

summary: After getting a wisdom tooth removed (just one, thank you), you’re sore, numb, and a little grumpy—but lucky for you, your boyfriend Quinn is playing nurse for the day.

warnings: mention of medical procedure (wisdom tooth removal), mentions of pain, light teasing, quinn being a loving boyfriend

author’s note: this is a very self indulgent fic. I had one wisdom tooth removed yesterday (I’m in so much pain 😀) and I have to get another one out next friday (it better be healed enough by my birthday istg 😭), but I got inspired to write this because I need this right now ☹️

word count: 1,325

Your face felt like it had been inflated with a bicycle pump, and only on one side.

“Babe,” you said, or tried to say, as the numbness in your top right gums transformed your voice into a slurry of mumbles. “I can’t feel my face.”

From the kitchen, Quinn peeked around his shoulder, holding a glass of water in one hand and a frozen bag of peas in the other. He smirked, but his voice was gentle. “You’re not supposed to feel your face. That’s the point.”

You flopped dramatically onto the couch, limbs spread like a puppet with half the strings cut. “But it’s weeeird,” you whined, pointing to your cheek. “I feel like I’m talking out of only this half of my mouth.”

“That’s because you are.” He walked over and set the water down on the coffee table. The frozen peas followed with a gentle thud. “Here, put this on your cheek before you turn into a chipmunk.”

“I already am a chipmunk.”

“You’re the cutest chipmunk I’ve ever seen.”

You gave him a lopsided scowl, which immediately shifted into a sheepish grin when he leaned in and kissed your forehead.

“You’re lucky I love you,” you mumbled, trying not to laugh. “Because otherwise this would be a very unflattering day.”

Quinn chuckled and settled next to you, looping an arm around your shoulders and tugging you close. “You’re literally puffy on one side and drooling a little. You’re perfect.”

You groaned and buried your face into his hoodie. The comfort of his scent, clean detergent and something slightly woodsy, was enough to soothe some of the low throb in your jaw.

“They only took one,” you murmured into his chest, your words muffled by fabric and facial swelling. “Why does it feel like they pulled my whole face out?”

Quinn ran his fingers through your hair, slow and rhythmic. “Because they numbed just enough to make you miserable but not enough to knock you out and forget it happened.” He paused, tone affectionate but amused. “You were making faces in the car, by the way. Like, really dramatic ones.”

You pulled back to glare at him, at least, as best you could with a puffed-up cheek. “You’re lucky I can’t enunciate right now.”

He gave a faux look of fear. “Oh no, the wrath of the half-frozen girlfriend.”

You reached for a pillow and weakly swatted his leg with it. “Mocking the wounded. You’re evil.”

“Evil,” he repeated, laughing as he took the pillow and placed it behind your back for support. “Want me to list all the things I’ve done for you today, or…?”

You narrowed your eyes.

“Drove you to the clinic. Held your hand in the waiting room. Bought you two different kinds of smoothies. Got this bag of peas when we didn’t have ice packs. Bought you a bunch of cans of your favourite soup. Oh and I got you jelly.”

You cut him off with a grunt and pressed the peas to your cheek. “Okay, okay. You’re the best boyfriend in the history of boyfriends. Happy?”

He smiled, clearly satisfied. “Very.”

⸻

An hour passed in a quiet lull, with a cooking show playing at low volume while you dozed against his shoulder, the painkillers dulling everything into a fog. Quinn barely moved, keeping still so you could rest, only shifting occasionally to check the swelling or re-secure the peas against your cheek.

At one point, you stirred and blinked at him blearily.

“Did you see them take it out?” you asked, voice still slurred, but less so now.

He shook his head. “No, they wouldn’t let me back there. I tried though.”

“Scared you’d faint?”

“Please,” he scoffed. “I’ve seen broken noses and lost teeth on the ice. I think I can handle you getting one little molar pulled.”

You poked him weakly in the ribs. “Still think you’d pass out.”

Quinn leaned in close, eyes playful. “Only if you started crying. That would wreck me.”

You smiled, touched in spite of yourself. “I didn’t cry.”

“I know. You were very brave, baby.”

⸻

Later, he helped you into the bathroom to brush your teeth—very carefully—making sure you didn’t poke the sore spot. He even read the post-care instructions twice, despite your protests that you could take care of yourself.

“I don’t want a dry socket,” he said grimly, holding up the little aftercare pamphlet. “This sounds like actual horror.”

“You’re not the one with a hole in your mouth,” you muttered, spitting delicately into the sink.

“Yeah, but I am the one watching you like a hawk.”

“You’re obsessed.”

“I’m concerned.”

“You’re obsessed.”

He kissed your temple. “With you? Obviously.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder and gave a small sigh. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” His arm wrapped around your waist and held you close for a beat longer. “Even when you’re drooling in your sleep.”

Your head snapped up. “Did I—?!”

“Oh yeah. Little puddle. Right there.” He pointed to the blanket.

You groaned again and shuffled back to the couch in shame. “Kill me.”

He laughed, bringing over a clean blanket. “Nah. I think I’ll keep you.”

⸻

By the evening, the numbness had mostly worn off, replaced by a dull ache and a very prominent swelling that made your cheek look like you were storing a walnut for later.

“Don’t touch it,” Quinn warned, seeing your fingers drift toward your jaw.

“It’s so round,” you protested. “I look like I lost a boxing match.”

“You look adorable.”

“You’re biased.”

“Damn right I am.”

He helped you curl up with your head in his lap, absentmindedly stroking your hair while you nursed a lukewarm smoothie and watched him scroll on his phone.

“Are you going to baby me like this if I ever get the other ones out?”

He tilted his head, pretending to think. “Depends. Will you let me record you next time?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Absolutely not.”

He grinned. “Then I guess I’ll have to settle for just doting on you.”

“Ugh,” you grumbled, snuggling closer. “Gross. Who raised you to be this sweet?”

“My mom,” he said, without hesitation. “She says if you love someone, you take care of them. Even if they’re cranky and drooling and threatening to stab you with a toothbrush.”

You snorted. “I didn’t threaten you.”

“You waved it in my direction pretty aggressively.”

“I was making a point.”

“A sharp one.”

You laughed, then winced. “Ow. Okay, no more jokes. My jaw hates joy.”

Quinn leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “Okay. I’ll be tragically serious from now on.”

“You’re still a dork.”

“Even dorks can be good nurses.”

“You’re not a nurse. You’re a hockey player.”

“Same thing. We both deal with broken teeth.”

⸻

By bedtime, the pain had settled into something manageable. Quinn helped you brush your teeth one more time, carefully avoiding the tender area, then tucked you into bed with an extra pillow to keep your head elevated. You looked up at him from beneath the comforter, cheek puffed, hair messy, eyes sleepy.

“You sure you don’t mind this?” you asked softly.

He reached down and brushed a thumb gently across your cheek on the non-swollen side. “Taking care of you?”

You nodded.

“Babe,” he said, voice warm and sure, “I’d do this a hundred times. You took care of me all last season when I was dealing with that weird oblique injury crap. It’s not even a question.”

You reached for his hand and laced your fingers with his. “Okay. But next time, I get to baby you.”

“Deal.”

He leaned down and kissed you gently, carefully avoiding your right cheek.

“Goodnight, chipmunk.”

You glared at him as best you could, even as your eyes drifted shut.

“Love you,” you mumbled.

“Love you more.”

And with that, you let sleep pull you under—safe, sore, and completely wrapped in Quinn’s quiet devotion.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #sweet quinn #nhl x reader #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes imagine #elliereblogs!!#ellieyaps!!#ellie recs!

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elliehughesyapss · 1 month ago

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GUYS WE DO NOF TALK ABOUT THE FACT I GROGOT I WAS GOING TO WRITE AN AU, ANYWAYS I WILL START WRITING TOMMOROW SOWM HARRAS ME TO FINISH IT AND MAKE IT GOOD AND PLEASE LEVA STUFF IN MY INBOX FOR WHAT YOU WANT TO SEE OR JUST TO YAP ABOUT MY CHARACTERS

love ellie!!

btw I'm making a moodboard for summer tomorrow too!!

miss possessive au info

jack hughes x summer rosewood

in which, jack shots a puck into his across the street neighbors front yard while playing road hockey with his brothers before he gets drafted to the nhl. a really pretty girl walks over to jack with the puck in hand. jack finds out her name is summer and her parents just bought a lakehouse in michigan and she will spend her time off school in ann arbor michigan. she will attend to rutgers school of nursing and is going to become a nurse in the fall of this year (this takes place in 2019).

this moodboard is so shitty but it's fine anyways the face claim for summer is lily rowland

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elliehughesyapss · 1 month ago

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YES I NEED MORE LOVE AND CHEERS AU

soooo does anyone wanna chat aus?🤍

#ellisreblogs #ellieyaps!!#quinn hughes imagines #quinn hughes #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes imagine #love and cheers au!

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elliehughesyapss · 2 months ago

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WHAT THE FUCK

OMFG MY PRAYERS HAVE BEEN AWNSERED

JAMIE TREVOR REUNION?

#trevor zegras #tz11 #philly flyers #tzegras #jamie drysdale #anaheim ducks #ellieyaps!!#elliereblogs!!

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elliehughesyapss · 2 months ago

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I NEED MORE. I LOVE THE DCC SHOW SO MUCH AND I LOVE QUINN

⋆⭒˚.⋆ dallas cowboys cheerleaders - year one!

{love and cheers au!} - dcc!reader x quinn hughes

making the team [part one]:

──.☆ quinn films your audition videos for round one and he is HYPING you up in between filming. the boys got steady hands, so not only does his videos come out perfect, but he recorded everything so now you has a bunch of little clips on you phone of quinn cheering you on behind the camera !

"ouu that was a good one, baby", "atta girl! do you wanna run the dance one more time?", "thats the winner right there, babe",

──.☆ you go to the gym together every day while waiting for the final results of your online audition. you'd been in training camp once before when you were 18 (but sadly got cut) so you know the drill but you still want to make sure your prepared for finals !! quinn helps spot you when you weight train, and hes always super encouraging.

──.☆ youre in your childhood bedroom when you find out that you'd made it to finals, the one thats only a 15 minute drive away from the hughes lake house. you wanted to find out by yourself, and so when you opened the dcc portal to see "CONGRATULATIONS!" you immediately burst into tears and after telling your parents youre in your car and driving to him.

making the team [dallas]:

──.☆ he helps you pack your suitcases for dallas like you helped him pack for vancouver two years ago. its bittersweet, and quinns not that much help considering he sucks at folding clothes... but you have a good time sitting in your childhood bedroom while you pack the essentials for finals and hopefully training camp.

──.☆ quinn manages to convince your parents to let him be the one to drive you to the airport to catch your flight to dallas, and so after some uplifting goodbyes, its just the two of you in the car to the airport.

"youre quiet today, is everything okay?" you ask as quinn takes one hand off the wheel and interlaces his fingers with yours. "just thinking," he hums back, eyes steady on the road until you squeeze his hand three times. he glances at you before sighing. "just gonna miss you is all," "you never know, i might not even make it to training camp again," "you will," quinn says seriously. "youre the hardest worker i know, you've got this," its silent for awhile before he continues with a soft, "i love you."

──.☆ at the airport quinn helps sort out your flight details even though you've flown numerous times before (which u suspect is a way for him to delay the inevitable... driving back home alone). he helps checking you in at the front desk and pays for your suitcase when it checks in as overweight, and lingers in his goodbyes. he hugs you extra tight, kisses the top of your hand, and tells you he loves you before you have to walk through security.

making the team [finals]:

──.☆ you had spent the past three months perfecting your solo. your routine started off slow, before the beat kicked up and you hit the iconic dcc style with strength and power in you movements.

──.☆ your field audition went even better, having lots of on field dance experience from your years at umich. you introduced yourself to the judges over the loud speakers, yn ln, 21, from michigan.

──.☆ you had gotten to know the other girls during the wait for the judges to deliberate on who was going to make it into training camp, and you crossed your fingers the entire time you sat in the bleachers waiting for your name and number to be called onto the field.

──.☆ when youre called onto the field time stops - its a familiar feeling that you were desperate to feel again after your first time in training camp. you practically run onto the field, hugging a group of your fellow rookie candidates. when you get back to your hotel the first thing you do is call quinn and tell him the news... it was 1am his time, but he answered on the first ring and he was absolutely beaming for you when you told him the news!

making the team [training camp]:

──.☆ training camp was difficult for your relationship. you were busy during the day running through your dances, practicing relentlessly, and making new friends with (hopefully), your new teammates. meanwhile, quinn was at home in michigan since it was the off season... taking things slow and spending the days under the hot michigan sun with his family in friends.

it was difficult to schedule calls. after you got out of practice it was late and he was hanging out with a new group of his friends that were passing through town and staying at the lake house. you'd run through your dances when u did manage to find the time to call, and you were beyond stressed worrying about your technique, high kicks, and remembering all of the routines that your calls were more stressful than they shouldve been.

──.☆ you had been called into the office once and had a serious discussion about your noticeable anxiety during practices. kelli reads over the judges comments, overwhelmingly positive, and tells you that you needed to work on making yourself look more at ease when doing the choreo. after the office visit your training got more intense, leading to less calls home and more time in the hotel ballroom rewatching practice videos and trying to calm your nerves down before practices.

making the team [team announcement]:

──.☆ the coaches bring you and the remaining 36 girls into the rehearsal room after the last round of cuts the night before. one of the vets on the team, a girl you initially auditioned with 4 years ago, holds onto your arm while another one of your rookie friends grips your hand as charlotte jones say the words that change your life: "congratulations! you guys are the 2021-2022 squad!"

──.☆ immediate tears. your handed your uniform by kelli and once you and the girls run into the locker room for pictures you FaceTime quinn with your uniform in hand... YN printed on the hanger.

"i made the team!" you cry out, one hand clutching your uniform to your chest and the other one holding your phone in front of your face. quinn immediately sits up, his face lighting up as he sees how happy you are. "atta girl!" he calls out, "i'm so proud of you!"

meet the team [family day]:

──.☆ quinn flies out with your family for the dcc meet the team event. youre already dressed in your uniform, makeup done to the nines, and hair perfectly curled when your boyfriend and family walk into the locker room. quinn immediately takes it all in as he eyes you in your fresh uniform as well as your name and picture on your locker.

──.☆ your parents take a million photos of the two of you - quinn lifting you up under the knees in the locker room, posing on the football field, and the list goes on. you teach quinn the entrance to thunderstruck on the field as you challenge him to travel a yard in 4 steps.

──.☆ he sits with yours and your teammates families as you perform thunderstruck for the first time with an audience. your positioned in the back row with the rest of the rookies but quinns attention immediately finds you as you strut onto the field in your new lucchese boots.

──.☆ quinn makes one of the pictures of the two of you on the field as his phone background, and he stares at it the whole flight back to michigan without you.

regular season:

──.☆ you move into an apartment in dallas with one of your fellow rookies, immediately becoming best friends as you navigate the world of dcc together. on top of cheering, youre working full-time so your schedule is insanely busy but quinn understands because hes also training and on the road.

──.☆ quinns not able to come to one of your game day performances until late october, when hes on the road in the states and has a free day to watch you at at&t. he sits in the family section, and hes finally starting to get a taste of the wag lifestyle as he meets the boyfriends and husbands of your fellow teammates.

#love and cheers au!#quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #elliereblogs!!#ellieyaps!!

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elliehughesyapss · 2 months ago

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this is so real

I’m so in love with jack hughes guys

#Jack Hughes #jh86 #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes au #jack hughes fanfic #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes fic #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x you #nj devils fic #nj devils #njd #ellie yaps #elliereblogs!!

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elliehughesyapss · 2 months ago

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LOVE THIS, LOVE U, LOVE DREA AND ELLIE AND LOVE JACK AND DREA

SHE’S BETTER KNOWN FOR THE THINGS THAT SHE DOES ON THE MATTRESS [BLURB]

Jack Hughes x Andrea Lance (oc) - masterlist

Summary: Ellie fills Andrea in on Jacks history with one of the neighbors

a/n: ellie hughes belongs to the amazing @oscquinn

This must've been the first time in years that Andrea woke up at 9am on a rest day. The Hughes home was quiet in the early hours as she padded softly out of the guest room. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Drea stumbled into the kitchen, tee rumpled from sleep, where she found a tired Ellie perched on the counter, waiting for her coffee to brew.

“You’re up early,” Ellie said, shooting Drea a sleepy smile.

“Habit, I guess,” she shrugged, bracing against the island. Andrea went quiet, thinking about the previous night—how she’d met Jack's friends and family—yet she couldn’t get a particular blonde with blue eyes out of her head.

Ellie broke the silence. “You’re thinking… about what exactly?”

Andrea mumbled a quick “Nothing,” shaking her head.

“C’mon, spill. I don’t have any sisters to talk with—humor me,” Ellie prodded further, grabbing the creamer from the fridge.

Eyes focused on the patterned tile of the kitchen, Drea finally asked what she’d been wondering since last night. “Who was that blonde with your brother last night? He’s never talked about her before.”

“Oh, her,” the sixteen-year-old began. “That’s Karlee, our neighbor. Her mom welcomed us to the neighborhood when we moved here, so she’s always just been around.”

“So you guys must be close with her then?”

“God, no. I can’t stand her, and I know that Quinn hates her too. Jack and Luke tolerate her for Mom, I guess.”

“Why?”

“Well, back when we were in middle school, our mom ‘encouraged’ Jack to take her to their 8th grade formal, and that made her delusional enough to convince herself that she and Jack were meant to be—until they got to high school and he entertained it for a bit, y’know, hookups here and there, till he obviously wanted nothing to do with her. She couldn’t take the hint. Jack stopped texting her back, stopped inviting her to stuff and practically ghosted her. When Karlee realized the future hockey star didn’t want her, she tried to sink her claws into the closest thing to him.”

“Luke?” Andrea quietly gasped.

Ellie shook her head. “Quinn.”

Jaw slackened, Drea was shocked, whispering, “Quinn?”

Nodding at her words, Ellie continued, “She tried to dmQ while he was at college to visit him. Karlee only hangs around because our moms are close. It looks like she’s trying to cozy back up with Jack since the draft is coming up.”

Andrea blinked, still processing everything Ellie had just said, as the coffee machine sputtered the last drops.

“They seemed pretty close last night, though.”

As Ellie let out a dry laugh, she explained further, “That’s her specialty. Let’s just say after Jack finished his credits to leave for NTDP and left, she wasn’t exactly waking up in her own bed every night.”

“That’s… interesting,” Andrea breathed, wondering whether or not Karlee’s ‘affections’ would work. Why should she care, though? She’d known Jack less than a year, and he was old enough to make his own decisions in a part of his life that she was just now being let into.

As a subtle frown flashed across her face, Ellie chimed in, “Jack’s polite, but I don’t see him ever going for her. He’s an idiot—but not that much of one. Plus, he spends all his time talking to you—or about you, anyways.”

The tips of Drea’s ears twinged red as she declined Ellie’s offer of the coffee pot. “About me?”

“Yeah, don’t tell him I told you this, but I think he watched your entire gold medal performance and ceremony three times—with notes.”

Andrea blinked, unsure if she’d heard Ellie correctly.

“With notes?” she repeated, her voice caught somewhere between disbelief and something warmer she didn’t want to name.

Ellie chuckled, nodding into her coffee mug. “Mmhmm. Like actual notes. I think he paused during your sequence because he wanted to understand how your edges worked. Then rewound it to replay the slow-motion replay right after. I caught him one night watching it again on his iPad in bed—he practically dropped it when I walked in.”

Andrea laughed softly, the sound almost startled out of her. “That’s… weirdly flattering.”

“It means something,” Ellie stated, sipping her drink.

“It just means that he’s sweet and a little stalkerish,” Drea chuckled.

Before Ellie could pry further, the footsteps of half a dozen teenage boys interrupted them.

taglist - @jaes-last-words

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