#Brock boeser

[atwhughesversion]

at least quinn, brock, and demmer got to spend the game together 💀

[captainlexapro]

whale team text posts!!

[incorrectcanucks]

Elias Pettersson: Which country has the most birds?

Quinn Hughes: Portu-geese!

J.T. Miller: That's a language.

Quinn Hughes: Portu-gull?

J.T. Miller: Good recovery.

Thatcher Demko: I think you mean good re-dovery.

Brock Boeser: TURKEY. HOW DID WE MISS TURKEY?

[qrrieterisunnq]

Hands Full of Flour

FT. BROCK BOESER AND KITCHEN SEX MINORS DNI - 18+ content below the cut — WARNINGS: sex scenes (please keep it safe guys!) — SUMMARY: Brock and his pregnant partner share a playful and passionate evening in their kitchen, blending love, laughter, and desire. Amid tender moments and teasing banter, their connection deepens, reaffirming the strength of their bond. — WORD COUNT: 3,74K

A sweet scent flows through the hallway of Brock’s apartment building as he slowly reaches the door to his. He smiles slightly at the knowledge that you are baking this food with this delicious smell.

Pulling his keys out of his jacket he unlocked the door and grins widely when he hears you singing. He quietly closes the door and lets go of the bag in his hand.

Softly he walks into the kitchen chuckling softly at the sight of your swaying hips.

Brock can say you are in a different world by the way you softly sing and dance around the kitchen. He walks up to you and carefully wraps his hands around your hips. A loud shriek comes from your lips as if you had no idea someone was there with you.

“Fucking shit!” you breathe out, your hand resting on your cheat while you lean in Brock’s chest.

“Sorry baby.” He laughs, nuzzling his nose in the crock of your neck, planting soft kisses there.

“You want me to deliver earlier?!” you look at him with a shake of your head, your hands sliding down to your thirty-week-old belly, that holds your baby boy.

“I’m sorry love.” he giggles moving his hands under your belly and lifting it to reveal some weight from your back.

“Forgiven,” you murmured leaning your weight into Brock's muscular body. “Keep holding please.” you sigh in relief.

“I will. What are you cooking?” Brock murmurs in your ear kissing the side of your head.

“I made lasagna for you and now I’m trying to make some cookies, but it's harder to focus with this little one kicking me non-stop," you chuckle softly, resting your hands on top of Brock's as he cradles your belly. 

Brock grins and presses another kiss to your temple. "He’s probably just excited about the lasagna. I know I am." 

You roll your eyes playfully, but a smile tugs at your lips. "You’re worse than him sometimes, you know that?" 

"I’ll take that as a compliment," Brock teases, swaying with you gently, his strong arms still supporting your belly. "But seriously, you’ve been on your feet too long. Why don’t you sit down for a bit? I’ll finish the cookies." 

"You? Baking?" You raise an eyebrow and glance up at him, amused. "Last time you tried, we almost set off the smoke alarm." 

"Hey, I’ve improved," he says with mock indignation. "Besides, I have a great teacher." 

You laugh softly and let him guide you to a chair by the kitchen table. "Alright, but if you burn these, you're eating them anyway." 

Brock chuckles as he ties an apron around his waist. "Deal. Now, just sit back, relax, and watch me prove I’m more than just a lasagna enthusiast." 

As you sit there, watching him clumsily measure ingredients and fumble with the mixer, you can’t help but feel a swell of love for the man who’s doing everything he can to make your life easier, even if it means battling cookie dough. 

"Hey, don’t look at me like that," Brock says, catching your gaze and grinning. 

"Like what?" 

"Like I’m the luckiest guy in the world. Because I already know I am." 

Your heart melts as you reach for his hand, pulling him close for a quick kiss. "You are. But don’t let the cookies burn, lucky guy." 

With a laugh, Brock turns back to the dough, and you sit back, content, as the sweet scent of your shared love fills the kitchen.

As Brock fusses over the cookie dough, you lean back in the chair, resting a hand on your belly. The rhythmic movements of his hands as he stirs the mixture are oddly calming, even if he’s doing it all wrong.

"You know, you’re supposed to fold the flour in gently, not attack it like a whisk is your enemy," you tease, watching him struggle to keep the mixture from flying out of the bowl.

"Hey, I’m just adding a little flair. This is a performance, not just baking," Brock says with mock seriousness, spinning the whisk dramatically before setting it down.

You laugh, shaking your head. "The performance might need a little work, chef."

Brock flashes a grin. "Noted. But just wait—these cookies are going to blow your mind."

As he continues his chaotic masterpiece, you feel a sharp kick from your belly, and you can’t help but wince slightly. Brock notices immediately and stops mid-motion.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asks, concern etched on his face as he crosses the kitchen to kneel beside you.

"Yeah, I’m fine," you reassure him, though your hand remains on your belly. "Your son is just very... energetic today."

Brock gently places a hand beside yours, his touch soothing. "Hey, little man," he says softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your belly. "Go easy on your mom, alright? She’s doing all the hard work here."

You smile at the sight, your heart swelling. "He probably gets it from you, you know. That energy."

Brock looks up, mock-offended. "Me? I’m the picture of calm and control."

You both burst out laughing, the sound filling the kitchen and mingling with the warm scents of lasagna and cookie dough.

"Alright, alright," Brock says, standing back up. "I’ll finish these cookies, and then we’ll eat like kings. Sounds good?"

You nod, resting your head back. "Sounds perfect. Just try not to burn anything."

"I make no promises," he teases, returning to his chaotic baking.

As you watch him, you can’t help but think how lucky you are. It’s not just about the little things he does—it’s the way he loves you and your growing family with his whole heart. In this moment, with laughter and sweetness filling the air, everything feels exactly as it should.

Brock finishes scooping the last bit of cookie dough onto the tray, looking rather proud of himself. "Not bad, huh?" he asks, holding the tray up for your inspection.

You smirk, tilting your head. "Not bad... for someone who almost mixed half the flour onto the counter."

"Hey, a little mess never hurt anyone," he retorts, sliding the tray into the oven. He turns back toward you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "But you know what does hurt?"

"What?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"The fact that you’ve been stealing my attention all evening," he murmurs, his voice dropping into a low, playful tone.

You roll your eyes, laughing softly. "Brock, I was baking. Not seducing you."

"Well, you’ve succeeded at both," he says, stepping closer, his hands finding your hips. He kneels in front of you again, his gaze locking with yours as his fingers gently massage the curve of your sides. "You’re stunning, you know that?"

Your cheeks flush under his heated gaze. "Brock, I’m thirty weeks pregnant. I feel like a waddling penguin."

"You feel like my goddess," he counters, his voice husky. His hands slide under your shirt, gently caressing the soft skin of your belly. "And you’re carrying our baby. That makes you the sexiest woman alive to me."

Your breath catches as he leans in, pressing a slow, reverent kiss just above your belly button. His hands stroke your sides, his touch careful and loving, but there’s a growing intensity in his movements.

"Brock," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly as his lips trail upward, over the curve of your belly and to the swell of your chest.

"Tell me if I should stop," he murmurs against your skin, his lips brushing your collarbone now.

Your fingers weave into his hair, tugging gently. "Don’t stop," you say softly, your voice barely audible but full of meaning.

He grins against your skin, rising to his feet and scooping you into his arms with surprising ease. "Let me take care of you, love," he whispers, his lips finding yours in a deep, passionate kiss.

He carries you to the counter, setting you down gently. His hands cradle your face as he continues kissing you, his touch both worshipful and commanding. You feel the heat building between you, the world outside the kitchen fading away as Brock’s love and desire for you become the only thing you’re aware of.

His kisses trail back to your neck as his hands work to unbutton your shirt, revealing more of your skin to his touch. His movements are deliberate, his focus entirely on you, making you feel beautiful, cherished, and desired despite your protests about your changing body.

"Brock," you murmur again, your voice filled with both need and affection.

"Shh, I’ve got you," he replies, his voice a promise as his hands and lips continue their exploration.

Brock’s lips leave a heated trail down your neck as his hands glide beneath your shirt, his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin along your ribs. His touch is slow, deliberate, like he’s savoring every inch of you.

"You’re so damn beautiful," he murmurs against your skin, his voice low and rough with desire.

Your breath hitches as his hands shift lower, cupping your hips firmly. His body presses closer to yours, and you can feel the heat radiating from him. "Brock," you whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes filled with hunger and love. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he asks, his hands sliding over your thighs, parting them slightly as he steps between them.

You bite your lip, the teasing edge in his voice making your body heat up. "Maybe," you reply, tilting your head coyly, "but I wouldn’t mind a demonstration."

His lips crash into yours, all restraint gone as he claims your mouth with an intensity that leaves you breathless. His hands grip your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter until there’s no space left between your bodies.

"You drive me insane," he growls against your lips, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before he kisses you deeply again. His hands slide up your back, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it aside without breaking the kiss.

You shiver at the cool air against your skin, but the warmth of his touch quickly follows. His palms cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks through the thin fabric of your bra, sending sparks of pleasure through you.

"Sensitive?" he asks softly, his lips curling into a smirk as he watches your reaction.

You nod, your voice caught in your throat as his lips trail downward, peppering kisses along your collarbone and over the swell of your chest. "Good," he murmurs, his voice dripping with desire.

With one hand, he unclasps your bra, letting it fall away, and takes a moment to admire you. "You’re breathtaking," he whispers before lowering his head, his mouth capturing one of your nipples, his tongue flicking over the sensitive skin while his hand teases the other.

Your fingers grip the edge of the counter as a soft moan escapes your lips. Brock’s free hand slides down your body, caressing the curve of your belly with a reverence that makes your heart ache with love even as your body craves more.

His kisses trail lower, pausing to press gentle, adoring kisses over your belly. "I love you," he whispers against your skin, the intensity of his words sending a shiver down your spine.

"Brock," you gasp, your body arching toward him as his hands grip your hips again, tugging at the waistband of your leggings.

"You trust me?" he asks, his voice low and filled with promise.

"Always," you reply, your eyes locking with his.

With that, Brock kneels before you, his hands sliding your leggings down your legs, his lips never straying far from your skin. His kisses grow hungrier, his breath hot against your thighs as he pulls you closer to the edge of the counter.

The world outside the kitchen disappears as Brock’s focus is entirely on you, his touch and his mouth driving you to a level of pleasure that leaves you breathless, every ounce of tension and discomfort from the day melting away under his care.

Brock’s hands are firm yet gentle as he grips your thighs, spreading them wider to make room for himself. His mouth continues its trail of kisses, leaving you breathless as he moves closer to your most sensitive spots. Each touch sends waves of heat coursing through your body, making you forget everything but him.

“God, you taste like heaven,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire as his lips brush against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His stubble grazes you lightly, a teasing sensation that leaves you trembling in anticipation.

Your fingers find their way into his hair, tugging gently as your head falls back. “Brock,” you breathe, the sound of his name leaving your lips like a prayer.

He looks up at you from his kneeling position, his dark eyes filled with adoration and lust. “I love seeing you like this,” he says, his voice low and reverent. “Completely mine.”

Before you can respond, his mouth finds its mark, and the pleasure that follows has you crying out his name. Brock doesn’t hold back, his hands gripping your hips to keep you steady as he works, his movements deliberate and skilled.

Your body arches, your hand tightening in his hair as he takes his time, savoring every reaction he pulls from you. Each moan, each shiver, only spurs him on, his own need evident in the way his fingers dig into your skin.

“Brock,” you gasp, your voice trembling as your body climbs higher and higher. “I… I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice a mixture of command and encouragement. “Let go for me, baby. I’ve got you.”

His words push you over the edge, and you fall apart in his hands, the pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. Brock doesn’t stop until you’re completely undone, his kisses turning soft and soothing as he brings you down from your high.

You’re still catching your breath when he stands, his hands sliding up your body to cradle your face. His lips meet yours in a kiss that’s slow and deep, the taste of you still lingering on his tongue.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his forehead resting against yours as he brushes a strand of hair from your face.

You nod, your cheeks flushed and your body humming. “Better than okay,” you murmur, your hands sliding down his chest.

His grin is full of pride as he kisses you again, his hands steadying you when you lean into him. “Good,” he says, his voice full of love. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

You let out a soft laugh, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. “The cookies, Brock. They’ll burn.”

He smirks, his hands sliding down to grip your hips. “We’ve got time. Trust me.” Brock leans in, his lips brushing yours with a teasing softness. “You really think cookies are the priority right now?” His voice is thick with amusement and desire as his hands find their place on your hips again, pulling you flush against him.

Your laugh is breathless, your fingers tracing the edge of his jaw. “Well, you did promise me cookies…”

“And I delivered,” he murmurs, trailing kisses along your jawline and down your neck. “But I’ve got something even sweeter right here.”

You shiver at the feel of his breath against your skin, your fingers tangling in his hair again. “Brock, you’re impossible,” you whisper, though your body responds eagerly as his hands roam your curves.

He pulls back just enough to lock eyes with you, his gaze burning with intensity. “Only for you.”

Before you can respond, he lifts you effortlessly onto the counter, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his touch. His hands cradle your belly for a moment, his thumbs stroking the soft skin with an intimacy that sends a wave of love through you.

“I love every part of you,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe as he lowers his lips to your belly. “Both of you.”

The tenderness of his words makes your heart swell, but the way his kisses shift lower reignites the fire between you. His hands slide under your thighs, spreading them wider as his lips claim your skin.

“Brock…” Your voice trembles, and you grip the counter behind you for support as his touch becomes more insistent.

He looks up, his grin wicked. “Still worried about the cookies?”

Your laugh dissolves into a gasp as his mouth finds its mark once more, and all thoughts of burning desserts vanish completely.

Your body trembles beneath Brock's touch, still reeling from the waves of pleasure he's drawn from you. His lips trail up your neck and along your jawline as he rises to his full height, his dark eyes locked on yours.

"You’re incredible," he murmurs, his voice hoarse with both desire and affection. His large hands cradle your face for a moment, his thumbs brushing over your flushed cheeks.

You catch your breath, reaching for him, your fingers curling into his shirt and tugging him closer. "I need you, Brock," you whisper, your voice laced with urgency and longing.

His lips twitch into a smirk, his confidence returning as he pulls you into another searing kiss. This time, it’s deeper, hungrier, leaving no doubt about the fire burning between you.

Effortlessly, Brock scoops you into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carries you a few steps before pressing your back gently against the cool wall, the contrast sending a shiver through your body. His broad chest presses against you, his strength both protective and thrilling.

“Are you sure this is okay?” he murmurs, his lips brushing yours as he pauses for a moment, his hands bracing your hips.

You nod, your fingers threading through his hair. “I want this. I want you. Don’t stop.”

That’s all the reassurance he needs. He adjusts his hold, his hands gripping under your thighs to lift you higher as he positions himself. Slowly, deliberately, he pushes into you, filling you completely.

The sensation pulls a gasp from your lips, your head falling back against the wall as your body adjusts to the delicious stretch. Brock groans low in his throat, his head dipping to your shoulder as he stills for a moment, giving you both time to savor the connection.

“You feel so perfect,” he murmurs, his voice raw with awe and desire. His lips brush against the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses that make your toes curl.

Your hands grip his shoulders, your nails pressing into his skin as you rock your hips against him. The movement draws a sharp inhale from Brock, his control slipping as he begins to move, his thrusts slow but deep.

The rhythm he sets is intoxicating, each motion sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body. You cling to him, your moans soft but urgent as you meet his movements.

“Brock,” you breathe, your voice trembling with both need and love. “Don’t stop. Please.”

He growls softly, his pace quickening, his hips rolling against yours with a precision that leaves you breathless. The wall at your back does nothing to muffle the intensity of his movements, the sheer strength of him grounding you as he drives you higher.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, his hands sliding up to cradle your belly for a moment. The reverence in his touch makes your heart ache with love, even as your body burns with desire. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

You pull his face back to yours, your lips crashing together in a kiss that’s as messy as it is passionate. Your breaths mingle, the sound of your shared moans filling the space as you lose yourselves completely in each other.

The pressure inside you builds to a breaking point, and you cling to him desperately, your body trembling as you hover on the edge. “Brock,” you gasp, your voice almost breaking. “I’m so close.”

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his hands tightening on your hips as he drives into you with a newfound intensity. “Let go for me, baby. I’m right here.”

His words push you over, and the climax crashes through you like a tidal wave, leaving you crying out his name. Your body tightens around him, drawing a deep groan from his chest as he follows you over the edge, his movements growing erratic before stilling completely.

For a moment, the world seems to stand still. The only sounds are your shared breaths, heavy and uneven as you both come down from the high. Brock holds you close, his forehead resting against yours as he gently lowers you back to your feet.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his hands still steadying you as his eyes search yours.

You nod, your legs still shaky but your heart full. “Better than okay,” you murmur, your hands sliding over his chest as you lean into him.

His lips curve into a boyish grin, and he kisses you softly, his touch full of love. “Good. Because I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

The timer on the oven beeps, breaking the moment and pulling a soft laugh from you both.

“You and those cookies,” you tease, resting your head against his chest.

“Hey, I was multitasking,” he jokes, his arms wrapping around you protectively. “And for the record, I’d let them burn if it meant keeping you right here.”

You laugh, swatting his chest lightly. “Go save them. We’ve had enough heat in this kitchen for one night.”

He chuckles, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before stepping away to retrieve the tray of cookies. As he sets them on the counter, the sweet aroma fills the room, mingling with the lingering warmth between you.

You watch him with a smile, your heart full as you take in the sight of the man you love, his hair tousled and his grin contagious.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” you warn playfully. “I’m still holding you to finishing those cookies.”

He turns to you, smirking as he leans against the counter. “Oh, I’ll finish them. After round two.”

[mommahughes19-23]

surprises - Q.H

@tattoosbymorgs : YALLLLLLL, the studio room is DONE! Im going to post a pic to my story of what it looks like for ya!

this weekend was so fun & much needed, boats, boyfriends, besties. Spent the week workin as usual then got to see my babbbby!!

tagged : @quinnhughes @tanevchris @jackhughes @lhughes_06

location : van - mich

_eliaspettersson : dang girl youre kinda talented

luca.fantilli : YOU DIDNT EVEN GO TO UMICH YOU FAKE !!!

↪ tattoosbymorgs : legit fuck off you whore, my hot ass boyfriend did so im just trying to be supportive

bboeser : im just gonna sit and wait for you to figure out why IM NEVER INVITED

jackhughes : thank you for joining us. please dont feel free to tag along next time🫡

↪ tattoosbymorgs : oh silly silly jacklynn 🤣

lhughes_06 : we love a supportive girly who steals every umich item in sight.

↪ tattoosbymorgs : wow very judgmental im telling your mommy

trevorzegras : dang chica youre a busy ass woman... still think you could make time for fam 😔

↪ tattoosbymorgs : no because my mommy said I didn't have to

bradytkachuk : STOP ENCOURAGING EM TO GET A TATTOO PLEASE AND FUCKING THANKS 🖕🏻

↪ tattoosbymorgs : no thank you Brady, NO THANK YOU!

zadorov_16 : I MISS YOU SO MUCH

↪ tattoosbymorgs : So come and visit me ???

elblue6 : Stunning young lady! Thank you for being a part of our family!🙏🏻🙏🏻🤗

dakotajoshua8 : when I am back and healthy its SO on for a tattoo

_tylermyers_ : could you not influence our captain to partake in reckless activities🙄👊🏻

emmamatthews : YOU ARE STUNNING MAMACITA <3 🩷

austonmatthews : boutta slippity slide over there for another tattoo😘

bellzp__ : S T U N N I N G, please omg I can never get enough of you!!🤭

↪ tattoosbymorgs : omg omg omg says you hottie mcbody 🤤

_quinnhughes : I love you so much, I am so glad I could take care of you this week🫶🏻🩷

↪ tattoosbymorgs : bubs, im going to cry. I love you forever & always my lover😘🩷😘🩷😘🩷😘🩷

nilshoglander : so can I possibly have 5 min with my captain? 🙄

↪ tattoosbymorgs : no, you can however have 5 min with US 🩷

j.tmiller9 : ma'am, if you dont put on some clothes right NOW😡

↪ tattoosbymorgs : I AM WEARING CLOTHES WYM???

edwards.73 : I like 👍

tdemko30 : see you soooooon 🫶🏻

ehtkachuk : My bestest friend in the whole wide world and shes hot? ughhhhh 😘😭🩷🥹

colecaufield : woot woot😈

_alexturcotte : nice to finally meet you!!!🤗

MORGAN POSTED A STORY :

the stuuuuuuu (aka the extra room I have in my apartment became useful)

A.N:

HIIIIII! Im so sorry I have been MIA. Here is this and I hope you like

Tags: @babygirlboeser

[40ep]

Canucks vs Penguins | October 26, 2024

[verycoolusername1]

Birthday Boy

Summary: In which it's Quinn's birthday and you want to celebrate

Quinn Hughes x Gn!reader

Warning: I don't think there are any but there might be grammatical errors despite ke having grammarly on my phone lmao

A/N: IT'S HUGGY'S BIRTHDAY RAH RAH RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH and yk I just had to write a little something for him as he's literally the loml in every universe(the parasocial relationship is going HARD)

Also the devils have a game on his birthday- in this fic THEY DON'T SO EXCEPT A CAMEO FROM JACK AND LUKE

Quinn woke up with a groan as you were rapidly kissing his face. "Baby?"

"Happy birthday quinny," You whispered. "I would kiss you but you know how I feel about morning breath."

Quinn smashes his lips onto yours anyway, making you groan. "And you know how I feel about morning breath."

You teased. "You're twenty-five and still acting like a child."

"Only with you." Quinn mumbles.

You kissed his forehead in reply as you slowly pulled away from him. "Go back to sleep, I know you're tired honey."

Quinn didn't waste no time in going back to sleep. You kissed his cheek as you got ready to leave. In an instant, you were gone.

You wished you could spend your morning with the man of your dreams, but you had to hurriedly get his party in order and then later pick his family up from the airport.

You sent Brock a quick text telling him to get Quinn out of the house, which he responded rather quickly that he's on it.

You also sent a message to the birthday boy himself, telling him that you have errands to run and that you'll be back soon. He didn't respond, which made you a little sad.

You drove to party city and got a few decorations and called a few members of the team to come and help you.

You drove to the airbnb you had rented out and waited for the boys to come rolling in before you gave them instructions before leaving for the airport.

You waited in your car until you got the text from Jack that they were getting off the plane. You made your way into the airport and were trying to spot the family. Unknowingly, they already spotted you.

Luke ran behind you and picked you up despite the bags in his hands, making you squeal. "Luke Warren Hughes." You warned, making him put you down almost immediately.

Jack laughed at the interaction and shook his head. "Nice to see you too Y/n."

"Oh hush, we're on a tight schedule. I think your mom would agree." You gestured to Ellen, who nodded.

"They're right, this is Quinn's day and we can't waste any second." Ellen reasoned.

The family followed you to your car and you drove to the Airbnb.

"What have you got him doing all day?" Jim asked.

"To be honest, I'm not sure. I asked Brock to distract him, but considering it's Brock... could be anything." You shook your head.

"Wow this place looks beautiful." Luke comments.

"Of course it is, I picked it out." You rolled your eyes. "Anyways, I gotta go, bye!"

You unlocked your phone to a bunch of texts from Quinn, begging you to take him away from Brock. You chuckled as you texted back and got in your car and headed to the bakery.

The baker instantly recognized your voice, having talked to your voice on the phone beforehand.

"Over here y/n." You followed the baker to a white box that was most definitely Quinn's cake.

You thanked the baker and called the catering about dinner and gave them the address of the Airbnb and texted Ellen to expect them.

You dropped the cake off at the Airbnb and told Jack to not touch it or go within a 5 mile radius of it.

You texted Quinn that you're heading back to the apartment, to which he quickly replied that he was already there.

You unlocked the door and was met by your boyfriend giving you a bear hug.

"I missed you." He mumbled into your shoulder.

A pang of guilt went through. You realized you neglected him all day on his birthday nonetheless.

"I'm here now baby it's okay." You scratched his head. "Cmon, we gotta get ready, I made a reservation." You lied.

"Can't we just miss it and stay in bed, I just wanna be with you." He whispered.

"This reservation is important. We can't miss it." You told him sternly.

You two went to your bedroom, and Quinn put on a suit while you put on an outfit you knew he liked.

You came out of the bathroom, and Quinn's breath got caught in his throat.

"You-you look amazing." He gushed.

"Thanks, Quinn, you look nice too. Are you ready to go?" You asked, to which he nodded.

You quickly texted Jack that you were arriving with Quinn before starting the car.

Quinn pretty much stared at you the whole ride, making you nervous.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." You joked.

To your surprise, he actually does. Taking you off guard.

"I'm gonna make it my wallpaper." He declared.

"You wouldn't." You looked at him as you parked the car.

"You look good tonight, and I could stare at you for hours. I think I would." He smiled softly.

You smiled bashfully and were grateful. He couldn't see much of it due to it being dark out.

"Cmon... let's go." You unlocked the car.

Quinn's hands immediately found their ways to yours, and you walked to the airbnb, laughing at his stupid jokes. He would whisper in your ear, hand in hand, looking like a lovesick couple.

"This doesn't look like a restaurant." Quinn noted the obvious.

"Yeah I actually had a different reservation in mind, hope you don't mind honey." You kissed his cheek.

You opened the door and let Quinn enter first and turned on the lights.

"Surprise," you whispered as the guests yelled the word.

"What's all this?" He asked, turning to you.

"It's your birthday party," You shrugged.

"So that's why you were out all day..." Quinn trailed off.

"Yeah," You chuckled. "Do you forgive me now?"

"You know I do." Quinn pulled you in a hug. "Thank you. I appreciate this, but more importantly, you."

You grew warm at his words as you smiled at him. "No need to get all sappy just cause I'm showing my love for you. Now cmon your family's here."

Quinn snapped his head towards you. "My family's here? But they said that they couldn't-"

"Well, we obviously lied." Jack suddenly appeared beside you two.

"Happy birthday, honey." Ellen went up to him, Quinn hugged her tight.

You quietly snuck off to make you and Quinn a plate, leaving the family to catch up.

"All he did was ask about you the whole day." Brock slides in next to you.

You chuckled looking at him. "Oh did he now?"

"Every damn minute, I was so close to locking him in a closet." Brock laughs.

You laugh alongside him, unaware of the several eyes on you.

"Don't let them slip through your fingers." Ellen told him sternly. "They went of their way to make this the perfect day for you, you know how much they love you."

Quinn looked at you softly as you slowly came back over, Luke next to you. "Believe me, I know. I would have been content with staying in bed all day if it meant I would be with them."

Jim looked at his son softly before making a knowing glance with his wife.

"How long?" He asked.

Quinn looked at his dad. "How long what?"

"How long have you been thinking like this?" He clarifies.

"Oh." Quinn's face began to flush. "Uh for awhile."

"You've been thinking about spending the rest of your lives with them for awhile??" Jack comes back in the conversation. "How long is awhile?"

Quinn shook his head, making Jack laugh. You came up to his side again with his plate in your hands. He thanked you with a kiss to your hand and leaned into your touch.

"I guess for awhile means a long time." Luke muttered.

Quinn quickly shut them up with a glare.

"What do they mean?" You looked between the brothers in curiosity.

"Nothing you need to worry about." Quinn mumbles.

"Hey Y/n I love this party and all, but it's not really a birthday without some cake." J.T. grinned.

Your eyes widened in realization. "Omg, you're right! How could I forget about the cake?" You muttered the question to yourself as you ran off to get the cake.

Ellen hushed everyone to the table as they all waited for you. You lit the 25 candle and slowly lifted the cake and made your way to the table.

As you walked towards Quinn, Jack couldn't help but notice the way he was looking at you. Like you were the only person in the room, the light of his life. He took a quick photo before getting glared at by his mom.(that photo is now Quinn's lockscreen)

Everyone else began to sing happy birthday to Quinn. You included as you held the cake in front of him. Once the(terrible) singing was concluded, Quinn blew the candles out and you made your way to him with the first slice.

"Thank you." Quinn quietly says.

"Your welcome baby." You ruffled his hair.

"No... thank you." He tried to sound more serious but it doesn't help when Luke is eating half of the cake, Petey stopping him before he could get the chance.

"For what?" You looked down at him.

"For making today one of the best days of my life." He clarifies.

"Oh Quinn it's nothing, you don't need to thank me for this." You smiled.

"I know but I want to." He smiled. "I love you."

"I love you too." You kissed his head. "At least your frontal lobe is fully developed now. Can make extra good decisions now."

Quinn swatted your arm. "Hey! I make good decisions all the time."

"And what about that one time where you ghosted me? For two months I might add." You spoke with a questioning look.

"Touche." He said defeated.

[gaps-between-stories]

the nucks' answer to the second coming of christ and his german refrigerator boyfriend are one blonde bitch from minnesota and a russian rocket launcher and i think that's beautiful

[korshrimpski]

[incorrectcanucks]

Quinn Hughes: Brock Boeser...how do I begin to explain Brock Boeser?

Elias Pettersson: Brock Boeser is flawless.

Kiefer Sherwood: I hear his hair's insured for $10,000.

Thatcher Demko: I hear he does car commercials...in Japan.

Conor Garland: One time he punched me in the face...it was awesome.

[hugheses]

from bellzp__ instagram story

[ijustdontlikepeople]

NHL x internet 7/?

[broresteia]

hockey season is back baby

[larsnicklas]

brock boeser on the team's support helping him get through tough times + not really being able to picture himself feeling at home anywhere else

[verycoolusername1]

Maybe It Was Fate

Summary: During the 'hughesbowl' as fans may call it, you are caught in a trance that is Quinn Hughes... unaware that he is your coworkers' oldest brother.

Quinn Hughes x photographer!reader

A/N: I was debating whether to make this nico or quinn as the love interest and Quinn won in the end(nico does have a cameo however)- This was also supposed to be posted the day of the hughesbowl, but stuff came up so here it is now!!

AND I'M CHANGING THE SCORE IN THIS BECAUSE WHATEVER HAPPENED ON OCTOBER 30TH, 2024 DID NOT HAPPEN WHATSOEVER

It's a shock to you that you work with professional athletes, considering you hated sports as a kid. Even now, you still don't know what's going on in hockey. With the players too fast around you, it's hard to keep your eye on one player.

It was the 3rd period, the score being 5-3, the Canucks slowly but surely catching up.

You held your camera in hand, watching the big screen to keep focus... that was until someone catched your eye. You couldn't see his last name, only his face and man was he pretty.

He had green eyes flickered like sunlight within the leaves as he looked up. You could run your hand through his brown locks for days if given the chance.

You shook your head, he was most likely a player on and off the ice. You knew that without a doubt, knowing all about Jack's relationship with women(due to being best friends) but you couldn't help but wonder, would it be different with him?

The fans becoming louder as the game came to a close, the devils capturing the win. You snapped your camera a couple of times towards the devils and secretly took more of the mystery man.

You turned your camera off and it held loosely around your neck as you waited outside the locker room, waiting for Jack to take you home.

You had your back towards the door as you flickered through the photos that you took, your cheeks heating up when you saw the man again. He has a 43 just like Luke but you didn't think anything of it, players share the same numbers all the time. It was just a mere coincidence, right?

"You got all my good sides right?" Jack asked, you quickly turned the camera off.

"Jesus Jack, warn me next time gosh." You hit him on the shoulder.

He only shrugged in response. "Can't really text in the locker room."

You rolled your eyes. "You're actually an idiot."

"Only act like it to make you look smart." He muttered under his breath.

"And what are you two arguing about now?" Luke approached the two of you.

"They called me an idiot!" Jack exclaimed.

"They must have been reasonable to do so." Nico chuckled as he walked past you three. "Don't kill eachother please!"

"Make no promises cap!" You snapped a photo as he looked back at you with a smile.

"Oh Y/N! We want you to meet someone." Luke began to drag your arm in the other direction.

"And before you groan out a half assed reply, I think you'll really like him." Jack added.

You were now beginning to regret telling Jack that you wished you could put yourself out there again considering you haven't been on a date in two months due to your conflicting schedule.

"Do you two know him or-" You looked between the two of them.

"Oh yeah we do." Jack answered. "Very well."

"What does that even mean?" You narrowed your eyes at him, Jack chuckles in reply.

"Trust me, you'll like him." Luke eased your worries.

You finally stopped and Luke dropped your hand as you realized.

"He plays for the canucks? They just lost tonight. I'm sure the last thing he would want to do is go on a date with someone that works for the devils." You explained.

"Well he likes us and we play for the devils sooooooooo you'll brighten up his mood. Ha get it cause you're a photographer and the camera flashes." Jack stopped explaining the joke when he was met with your stern face.

Luke cleared his throat. "There he is now."

You snapped your eyes to the door and realized that was the man that took your breath away moments before just as he is doing now.

"Y/N this is Quinn, our brother. Quinn this is Y/N, the person we've been telling you about." Jack introduced the two of you.

"Brother? He's your brother?!? You guys never told me you had a brother!" You made a mental note to swear at Jack later, with no audience.

"Oops?" Luke giggled. "See Quinn, look they're a photographer. Show them some photos you took tonight." He encouraged.

You quickly shook your head. "No I couldn't possibly do that, I-I mean I still have to edit them and wait..." You looked down to your neck strap and saw that your camera was gone and in Jack's hands.

All three hughes brothers looking at the photos.

"Wait no!" You exclaimed but it was already too late you assumed, Jack was looking at you with a knowing look while Luke and Quinn were shocked.

"How come he gets all his good angles and I don't even one photo?" Luke asked you, in a mocking tone.

"I was distracted," You looked away, embarrassed.

"Yeah because you were too busy looking at our brother." Jack remarked, jokingly.

You rolled your eyes. "I didn't know he was your guys brother."

"I think these look nice, thank you." Quinn finally spoke, looking you in the eyes.

"Oh um you welcome. It's nothing really, it's just kind of my job." You shrugged.

"Then you most definitely picked the right career choice." He smiled softly at you.

Jack and Luke were nowhere to be seen, seemly left the two of you alone for a while.

Your face flushed at his words, he held the camera in his hands handing it out for you.

"You're gonna need this to edit all those photos of me." He joked.

"And I'm gonna need your number to send you all those photos." You held the camera and its neck strap, putting it in your bag.

"Well that was bold, Y/N." He chuckled not nonetheless gave you his phone so you can type out your number, he sent you a quick text.

"It was nice meeting you Quinn, it's getting late. I would head home but Jack seemed to have disappeared." You looked around.

"I can take you home." He offered. "He obviously went to the bar with the team."

You looked up at him and smiled. "I would like that."

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: i’m almost shocked at how fast this fic got written?? thanks to anon who indulged my fun little request for a new hockey to write about (inspired by @wyattjohnston ‘s post earlier about how there’s only fics for certain hockeys in the nhl fic tag and also bc i have so much fun writing for new guys in the fic exchanges!!)- how could i resist vancouver’s own prince charming? hope you guys enjoy because i had fun writing! ☺️

word count: 2.7k

tw: single dad!brock, nanny!reader, dirty talk, minor daddy kink, fingering (f receiving), handjob, dirty talk, nipple play

summary: you’re nothing but the nanny for brock’s daughter, until one night all the lines get blurred

Kya snuggles closer to you in her sleep, blonde hair tickling the underside of your chin. Her cheek is pressed up against your collarbone and her little body is hot, making you feel all sweaty where she’s connected to you.

The TV casts the room in a faint blue light, the low volume serving as white noise along with Kya’s little puffed air snores.

You think about moving her to her bed, but she’s so soft and cuddly when she hasn’t been lately and you can’t find it in your heart to get up. Unfortunately, the four-year-old has your heart in a vice-like grip and you’d do anything for her. Including being a human mattress.

So you stay on the couch, stroking her back and humming softly when she stirs briefly. Eventually, the clock ticks over to the eleven o’clock hour and you know it’s only a matter of time before Brock’s home and your shift is over. Not that you have to go very far to get home - your pool house turned bachelorette nanny pad is practically spitting distance from the back door. If you tilted to the left a bit and angled your neck, you’d be able to see the little planter with multicolored flowers that Kya had helped you plant last week.

And by help, you mean crushed a few daisies in her little fists and ate a mouthful of dirt before you could stop her.

A+ nannying for sure.

You’re still thinking about it when a familiar voice startles you from your thoughts.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Brock’s voice rumbles through the dark room, laughter around the edges.

Without thinking, you reply, “just thinking about the handful of dirt I let Kya eat last week.” Then you wince, wondering why Brock’s presence always makes you say the stupidest things.

He laughs fully now, stepping around the couch and dropping into the armchair. He’s in his post-game look - rumpled suit pants and button down with the sleeves rolled up, bare feet with his loafers kicked off in a pile at the front door, and blonde hair darkened from his shower. His palm rasps over the few days’ worth of stubble growing on his chin and his face splits into one of those smiles that makes Twitter (and you) swoon.

“She’s gotta get vitamins and minerals from somewhere, right?” He teases and your cheeks heat.

This.

This is why he makes you say the stupidest things. Because he’s a real-life Prince Charming with the personality to match.

You smile back at him, a reflex. “There are some leftovers in the fridge, if you’re hungry and want to get in your own vitamins and minerals,” you joke back, shifting Kya on your chest when she starts to slip.

Brock shakes his head. “I’m good, thanks. I’ll take Princess Ky upstairs and you can get some rest,” he stands, arms out to grab Kya.

Weirdly, you shift and hold her closer. “It’s, um, I don’t mind. She’s been really snuggly today and it’s nice,” you shrug one shoulder. “She watched a little bit of the first.”

“Yeah?” Brock’s face lights up. He loves it when you bring Kya to games and he gets to wave at her during warmups.

“Mhm,” you smirk, “she was obsessed with Quinn.”

Brock narrows his eyes at you, scrunching his nose in disgust. “Real nice,” he shakes his head, “making fun of the guy that your best friend over there belongs to.”

Your cheeks lift in a smile, your arms holding Kya comfortably. “Don’t be jealous of my bond with Ky. Daddy’s still her favorite.”

Something flickers across Brock’s face, there and gone before you can analyze it. He chuckles, says, “I better be since I pay for all those chicken nuggets she inhales like a freaking vacuum,” and excuses himself upstairs to change.

You watch him leave, chewing at your lower lip while you study the curve of his ass in his slacks, feeling awful even as you’re appreciating his form. Kya mumbles in her sleep, nonsense words and a ‘Daddy’ and your name, eyelids twitching as she dreams.

Brock’s back a few minutes later, comfortable in sweats and a threadbare t-shirt. Still barefoot, now he smells like mint toothpaste in addition to the locker room soap. “Sure you don’t want me to take her?” He asks, sitting down on the couch with you, a cushion’s worth of space between your bodies. “Feels like I should let you off the clock and hold my kid now that I’m home.”

“I really don’t mind,” you promise him. “Kya’s…she’s exactly what I want my own daughter to be one day.” You think maybe you’re over sharing, but it’s late and Brock just looks so domestic and comfortable. It’s easy to pretend when he looks like this. His eyes soften as he studies you and the way you’re holding Kya.

“She’s a pretty cool little girl,” he agrees warmly, reaching out to run a hand over her head. His palm

makes her hair staticky, fine strands lifted into the air. You blow at them gently, giggling when they stick to your face even after you try smoothing them back with a hand.

“You know,” he says too casually after a comfortable pause, “she, the other day when you were off, she said that she never wants you to leave.”

A little piece of your heart breaks with his words because you know one day you’ll have to leave. It’s easy right now, nannying for Kya while you get your Master’s, but what happens next year when you’re finished with school and you have to find a real

job.

Your face must show your distress, because Brock coughs slightly and rushes to say, stumbling over his words, “I didn’t mean, she’s four. You know, they say stuff all the time. When you do have to leave, it’ll be okay. She’ll be okay.”

He means well, you know that, but it doesn’t help and to your horror, your nose starts to burn and tears well in your eyes. You don’t really want to cry in front of Brock, not over something that’s at least a year away, but you feel the dam starting to break.

“Um, I do think I’ll head out for the night,” you say quietly, trying to not let your voice crack. You shift Kya in your arms and transfer her to Brock’s, making sure she stays asleep. “She really should be out for the night. So, um, I’ll see you in the morning.”

He takes her easily, arms practiced with adjusting her weight against his chest and her head on his shoulder. You jump up from the couch and wave over your shoulder, heading for the back door, ignoring Brock’s whispered shout of your name.

It’s so silly, to get so emotional about Kya outgrowing her need for a nanny, her need for you. But you’re more attached to Ky and Brock than you’re willing to admit, even to yourself.

Right now, your best option is to play your sad music playlist and cry, just to get it out of your system before getting back to normal in the morning.

The music helps. The crying helps more. The two glasses of wine help the most.

And then there’s a knock on the door, scaring the ever living shit out of you. It’s so late your visitor can only be one person.

“Brock?” His name is a question on your lips when you open the door, your brow furrowed.

“Hi,” he looks upset and your brain works sluggishly to figure out what could be bothering him. “Can I-?”

He gestures a little and you nod, stepping back automatically. “Yeah, of course. It’s your pool house,” you say. “Is Kya asleep?”

He nods, holds up the baby monitor. You can see Kya’s little body sprawled out on her bed and a smile curls your lips - she sleeps like a starfish, arms and legs akimbo. “She’s done for the night,” he replies quietly, setting the monitor on the little table you have next to the door for your keys.

Brock’s been in the pool house before, a million and one times. But this time, the air crackles like it does before a thunderstorm, your nerves on edge.

“What are -“

“I’m sorry.”

You and Brock speak over each other, words getting jumbled in the air. You giggle a little and Brock smiles, his shoulders relaxing.

“I’ll go,” he says, still smiling. His hands run through his hair, the strands flopping over his forehead before getting pushed back into place. “I’m sorry, for what I said. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Oh,” you aren’t expecting the apology and you start to excuse him, “I didn’t -“

“You did,” Brock cuts you off. “Your eyes are all red and I’m so sorry. I just thought, Ky loves you so much, that you’d want to hear what she said about you. I wasn’t thinking about - about you leaving.”

“I’ll have to eventually,” you shrug, the wine dulling the sharper edges of your emotions.

Brock’s jaw works and you wait for him to speak, patient like he’s Kya. A few seconds go by and he scratches at the back of his neck. “I’m not good at - I want you here, as long as you want to be here. I don’t care if Kya is a grown woman with her own kids, I’d want you here.” He pauses and his words sink in, battering at the boundary you’d built around your heart.

“What?” You whisper, hands fluttering at your sides. You suddenly don’t know what to do with them.

“I…I think, no, I am. I am definitely falling for you,” Brock says, tone firm and eyes soft, crinkled at the corners. Those damn blue eyes that have starred in a fantasy or two of yours. He reads your silence as negative, apparently, because he frowns and continues, “if I just made this uncomfortable, we can forget it ever happened.”

“No!” You nearly yelp, Brock’s eyes widening at your sudden increase in volume. “No,” you repeat quieter. “I don’t want to forget this happened. I’m just … surprised. I didn’t think you thought of me as anything but Ky’s nanny.”

His smile is contagious and you’re both grinning like idiots at each other.

“You haven’t been Ky’s nanny in my head for a long time,” he confesses. “Just been hoping you felt the same way.”

“Definitely feel the same way,” you giggle, feeling hysterical.

“Can I -?” He steps forward, into your space, and you nod, knowing what he’s asking. And then all you know is Brock’s mouth on yours, his hands warm on your waist, his hair soft under your fingertips. His tongue traces the seam of your lips, teeth nipping at your bottom lip when you open your mouth. A groan fills the air and you’re not sure if it’s yours or his.

Your chest crushes against Brock’s, bodies flush against each other. His cock is prominent against your thigh, hard and hot through the layers of fabric separating the two of you. For months, you’ve fantasised about this, wondered what it would feel like to get your hands on Brock and it’s better than you ever imagined. Hot and hard, his lips soft against yours, his hands gripping at your ass, dragging you closer and closer. Your hips chase his, involuntarily moving for relief.

“Brock,” you whine his name, surprising yourself with the neediness that colors your tone. He growls against your jaw and lifts you, arms braced under your ass, settling you on the countertop in your tiny kitchenette. He steps into the space created by your spread legs, your thighs at his hips, ankles locked at his lower back.

“Shit, wanted to do this for months,” he mumbles against your skin. His lips mark a hot trail down your neck and over the heated skin of your chest. His hands are down the back of your shorts, kneading at your ass.

His cock presses against your heated core and you moan, loudly and unashamed. Brock’s laugh is clearly delighted and he presses himself against you harder, drawing a strangled moan from your throat.

“Making such pretty noises for me,” he croons, dragging one hand up your side to grope at your breast, rolling your nipple until it’s a stiff peak. “What other noises are you going to make for Daddy?”

“Oh my god,” you keen, arousal flooding your panties. “Brock, oh my god, I need you to touch me.”

“What’s the magic word?” He replies, ducking his head to suck at your nipple over your shirt. The scrape of his teeth and the wet fabric makes you shiver, clit throbbing.

“Please,” you wail, grinding your hips against his.

“Please…?” He trails off and your heart pounds in your chest, pleasure coiling low in your stomach.

You sigh, a shaky exhale. “Please, Daddy, touch me. Please make me come,” you whisper the words in his ear, nipping at his earlobe.

Brock whips your shirt off, tossing the fabric to the floor. You’re not wearing a bra and normally you’d be self-conscious, but Brock’s staring at you like you’re the first woman he’s ever seen and you’ve never felt hotter. “Christ,” he mutters, palming your breasts and kneading them tenderly. “So fucking gorgeous. Just, just fucking stay with me forever, please?”

You nod, agreeing. “Yours, I’m all yours, I promise,” you cradle his face in your hands and kiss him deeply, leaning in as close as you can.

Somehow, his shirt ends up on the floor with yours and your fingers can trace each muscle on his chest and stomach. You drag a nail over his nipple and his skin erupts in goosebumps, so you do it again, skimming your nails over his skin and scratching at his biceps.

“Mark me up,” Brock encourages you, lifting your ass off the counter with one hand so he can tug at your shorts and panties. “Make sure everyone knows I’m yours.”

He’s certainly doing the same, sucking bruises onto your skin. There’s a bite mark over your breast and it feels like his fingers dug bruises into the flesh of your ass.

“Just want you,” you blink away a sudden rush of tears, still in disbelief that this is happening. “Been thinking about you for so long, Brock.”

Your fingers dance down to the waist of his sweats, pushing at them until his cock springs free and you can get a good look at it. It’s just as perfect as his face, thick and long and hard as steel.

“Come on, honey,” his fingers swipe at your clit, making you inhale sharply and arch your back. “Put your hands on me. Touch me.”

You obey, wrapping your hands around his cock and stroking him. Softly at first until Brock grunts and wraps his hand around yours to increase the pressure and speed. “Like that,” he instructs you, leaving his hand in place and using the other to smear your arousal over your clit and inner thighs.

“I don’t have any condoms!” You gasp, Brock’s index finger teasing at your entrance. The thought hits suddenly, annoyingly.

“Doesn’t matter,” he replies, kissing the moan from your mouth when he plunges his fingers into your cunt. “I’ll make you feel good just like this.”

Brock’s a man of his word.

He makes you come twice, once on his fingers and one on his tongue. The first time you make a mess of the counter, dripping all over the place. The second time he’s got you laid out on the couch, his stomach splattered with his own come from the handjob you’d given him.

And then he cuddles.

Wipes between your legs with a towel and wraps

you in his arms under a throw blanket. Kisses the crown of your head and tells you all the filthy things he’s thought about doing to you.

“Hey,” you pipe up, amusement bubbling in your chest, “do I get a bonus for every blowjob I provide?”

Brock’s surprised laughter vibrates at your back, shaking your entire body. His arms wrap around your chest and squeeze. “No,” he deadpans, sounding like he’s struggling to hold back his laughter, “but we probably should talk about your job.”

“Tomorrow,” you insist. “I love taking care of Ky. So we’ll work on a transition.”

The transition from Ky’s nanny to Brock’s wife and Ky’s mom takes about six months less than you anticipated.

“Best job promotion ever,” you tease Brock at the altar, Kya practically glued to your side and shouting her excitement when you kiss for the first time as husband and wife.