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capquinn · 2 days ago

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Girlll I daydream of our kids watching him play and wearing his cute little jerseys and all the cute mom moments 🤣🤣

Before the game, the family is tucked away in one of the quieter hallways near the locker rooms. Quinn stands proudly with his son nestled in his arms, introducing him to each teammate as they pass by. There’s a spark of pride in his eyes as he watches them smile, each one reaching out to squeeze the baby’s chubby hand or give him a soft tickle that sends him squirming and giggling. His daughter, meanwhile, clings to your leg, peeking shyly up at each teammate, who greets her with warm smiles and high-fives. She’s in her element, beaming each time someone calls her “Quinn’s little fan,” a tiny replica of her dad with her matching Hughes #43 jersey and wide grin.

One of Quinn’s teammates leans over, grinning at him. “You sure your little guy’s not here to take your spot?” he jokes, reaching out to give the baby a gentle pat on the back, admiring the even smaller Hughes jersey he is practically swimming in.

Quinn laughs, shaking his head.

“He’s still got a few years to go,” he says, glancing down at his daughter, who tugs at his shirt. “But his sister might get there first.”

You smile, watching him interact so naturally, introducing his kids with an unmistakable pride.

Quinn glances at the time, and then turns to you, sighing softly. “I should probably go get ready,” he murmurs, handing the baby over to you. He brushes a thumb over his cheek softly, voice softening as he whispers, “bye, buddy. Watch for dad out there, alright?” He leans down, placing a gentle kiss on his son’s forehead before looking back up at you. His gaze lingers, a flicker of concern in his eyes. “You sure you’ll be okay with both of them?” He offers to walk you to your seats, his hand resting at your back.

You wave him off, giving him a warm smile. “We’ve got it covered.” Leaning in, you kiss him quickly. “Love you,” you whisper, fingers giving his arm a reassuring squeeze before you turn to your daughter. “Alright, kiddo. Time for daddy to get to work.”

He kneels down, pulling your daughter into a tight hug, and they share a quiet laugh as they go through their little handshake, each move practiced and familiar. He smiles, tapping her nose with a quiet, “love you, bug. Be good for mom, okay?”

She nods enthusiastically, beaming up at him. You watch, your heart full, as he finally stands, giving you one last look before he heads off, a small smile tugging at his lips as he glances back.

Soon, the energy inside Rogers Arena is buzzing, and your heart thrums in time with it. Tonight is different. Special. It’s your son’s very first hockey game, the first time you have arrived as a family of four and the first home game of the season.

Your daughter, in her too-big jersey, proudly proclaims her big-kid status because she “gets to see daddy at work,” while your son, just five months old, is snug in his tiny jersey, all bright eyes and chubby cheeks.

You’re kneeling down by the glass, just before warmups, gathering both kids close for a quick photo. Your daughter, with her oversized jersey hanging loose, grins up at the camera, her eyes bright with excitement as she leans into you. You reach down to gently fix her hair, tucking a stray curl behind her ear as she wiggles with excitement. Your son, snuggled in your arms, looks up at you with wide, curious eyes, clutching at your finger with his chubby fist.

“Alright, can you say ‘go, daddy!’?” you coax, smiling down at them as the team photographer snaps a few shots. Your daughter enthusiastically shouts, “go, daddy!” with all the energy her tiny frame can hold, her voice ringing out as you chuckle softly, brushing your hand over her shoulder.

And then as the warm ups begin, the Canucks spill onto the ice and the early crowd begins to roar. Your daughter, her hands pressed against the cool surface, bounces on her toes, her gaze scanning the ice for Quinn until she spots him. Her face lights up, and she nearly squeals in delight when he skates over.

He taps his stick on the glass, catching his daughter’s attention, and she giggles, mimicking his movement by tapping her little hands against the glass. Slowly, Quinn removes his glove, tucking it under his arm, and then presses his hand against the glass over hers, his lips curving into a smile that’s both proud and tender, and your daughter beams, practically glowing from the attention. It’s become their little ritual — a quiet exchange, a touch through the barrier that settles into him, that he’ll he carry into the game. A little piece of his family right there with him on the ice.

Turning to you, Quinn’s face softens even more as he catches sight of your son. The baby is wide-eyed, trying to process all the lights, sounds and movements, and Quinn leans in closer, making silly faces, his bare hand pressed against the glass as he wiggles his fingers to catch his son’s attention.

You laugh softly, watching as Quinn waves and coos, the playful glint in his eyes mixing with something softer. And then, like magic, a little gummy smile spreads across your son’s face. Quinn’s own grin breaks wide.

Quinn’s eyes meet yours, and he pauses, his gaze brightening as he takes his family in — the kids, your encouraging smile. He lingers, just for a beat longer than usual, before lifting his fingers to his lips, pressing a kiss there, and then touching them to the glass. A quiet gesture, meant only for you. You mouth, “good luck,” and he nods, slipping his glove back on with a crooked smile. Then, with a final look over his shoulder, he pushes off, gliding into the warm-up, already glancing back once more, making sure you’re okay with both kids.

During the game, your daughter perches on the edge of her seat, her gaze fixed on the ice as she tries to track Quinn’s movements. He’s fast, darting in short, sharp bursts, and she follows each pass with wide eyes, determined not to miss a thing. Each time he skates by, she tugs on your arm, whispering, “there’s daddy!” and grinning wide. The crowd cheers around you, but her eyes stay fixed on the ice, her little hands gripping the hem of her jersey like she’s cheering him on with everything she’s got. Your son is nestled against you, his tiny hands clutching at your shirt, his gaze flicking back and forth as he takes it all in, mesmerised by the dazzling lights and vivid colours.

As the game wears on, your daughter’s excitement only grows louder, her little voice cheering each time Quinn skates by or appears on the jumbotron, but your son, still so small, starts to fuss, blinking against the bright lights and the crowd’s noise. Emily, one of the wives you’ve grown close to over the seasons, catches your eye and gives you an understanding smile. She reaches over with a gentle touch, pulling your daughter onto her lap and engaging her in playful whispers, keeping her entertained with stories and cheers.

Grateful, you lift your son from your lap, cradling him as you make your way to the stairwell just beyond the seats. There, you sway softly, hand rubbing his back in slow, soothing circles until he finally relaxes, his little fingers gripping onto your sweater as he dozes off against your shoulder, nestled close.

When you return, he’s sound asleep, and you slip back into your seat just as the jumbotron’s focus shifts to your section. Your daughter notices first, her face lighting up as she waves at the screen, tugging Emily’s arm to point herself out. You can’t help but laugh, adjusting your son in your arms so you can offer a little wave, looking down at the bench to watch for Quinn’s reaction.

Quinn glances up at the jumbotron, and when he sees his family, a warm, genuine smile spreads across his face. He watches for a beat, his eyes lingering on his sleeping son and his daughter’s excited wave. The teammates beside him notice and clap him on the back, chuckling and giving him a few playful nudges. Quinn laughs, leaning in to chat with them, his gaze flicking back to the screen, where you’re still gently rocking his son in your arms as the crowd cheers loudly for you all.

Just as quickly, the camera shifts, zooming in on fans decked head to toe in Canucks gear, waving foam fingers and scarves in support. Quinn settles back on the bench, a lingering smile barely hidden behind his helmet.

As the end of the second intermission winds down, Emily offers you a sympathetic smile, noticing the gentle weariness in your arms as you cradle your son.

“Want me to hold him for a bit?” she asks, reaching out to take him. You hesitate for just a second before nodding gratefully, carefully passing him over. Your little boy stays fast asleep, nestled into Emily’s shoulder without a fuss.

With your arms free, your daughter immediately takes the opportunity to climb into your lap, her little body curling up against you. She leans back, her head finding its place on your shoulder as her fingers wrap around your hands for balance. You press a soft kiss to the top of her head, both of you settling back to enjoy the last period.

As the final period begins, your daughter watches with a quiet, sleepy focus, eyes glued to the ice, blinking a little slower. It’s late — well past her bedtime — and she’s had a big day. Her little body relaxes against you, her hands loosely holding onto your arm, and you feel her weight settle as she watches, quieter than before.

But then Quinn skates past, close to your side of the rink, and she perks up with a small gasp, leaning forward with renewed excitement.

“Daddy!” she whispers, her voice barely containing her thrill.

The sight of him gives her a final push of energy, and she sits up a little straighter, determined to see the game through without falling asleep. You wrap an arm around her, smiling as you feel her heart flutter with every play, knowing she’s hanging on for just a few more glimpses of her dad on the ice.

When the final buzzer sounds and the Canucks secure their win, the arena erupts into cheers, and your daughter squeals, clapping her hands and looking up at you with excitement that mirrors your own.

“We won, mommy!” she exclaims, her eyes wide with pure joy.

And then once the crowd begins to disperse, you make your way toward the dressing room, holding your son close and guiding your daughter through the sea of fans with a firm grasp on her hand.

Standing by the entrance, you can feel the anticipation building as you wait, watching players file out until finally, you spot Quinn. His face lights up when he sees you all waiting, and though he looks worn out, there’s a spark of pure joy in his eyes.

Your daughter runs toward him, arms outstretched, and he kneels down to scoop her up, spinning her once, laughing at her excited chatter. He gives her a big hug, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before closing the distance that separates you both.

Quinn gives you a warm smile as he shifts your daughter to one side, his free arm wrapping around your waist to pull you in close. He leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your temple, his lips lingering just a second longer than usual.

“So, how was I?” he asks softly, a hint of playfulness in his voice, his tired eyes warming as he looks down at his son.

A smile spreads across Quinn’s face as his baby boy beams back at him, his round cheeks scrunching up with delight as he realises it’s his dad standing right in front of him and within reach.

You watch them, a grin spreading across your face as you arch a brow. “Not bad, Hughes. I think you’ve still got it,” you tease, gently shifting your son into Quinn’s arms, where he settles happily. “Though your super fan over there might’ve been the loudest in the arena.”

Quinn chuckles, balancing both kids in his arms, his daughter practically buzzing with excitement as she wraps herself around him. He glances down at her, his expression softening. “Is that true? Did you cheer loud for me, bug?”

She nods enthusiastically, her eyes wide with pride. “Uh-huh! I told mommy you looked like a superhero.”

Quinn’s smile deepens, touched, as he gazes at her. “A superhero, huh? That’s a pretty big compliment,” he murmurs. He glances over at you, his gaze warm and a little sheepish. “Guess I better live up to that.”

You laugh softly, reaching up to smooth a piece of his hair that’s still damp from the game. “Don’t worry, you already do.”

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

requests are open - let’s daydream!

#babe all i could think about at hughes bowl was this exact scenario LOL with lil uncle jack and uncle luke joining in with the glass #interactions oh oh OH i’m weak #capquinn’s requests #capquinn's writing #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #dad!quinn

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erosmutt · 1 month ago

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ok like i dont expect you to write this or anything its more just food for thought- which hayden characters, including hayden, would be a boobs guy, a butt guy, or thigh guy or something else lmaooo

ugh i luh yew for this. disclaimer, most of them are ass men <3

☆ HAYDEN : ass

I'll be real... I don't know. All his exes are flat skinny girls... KIDDING! Hayden is an ass man! He's not one to objectify, but he can appreciate a nice ass when he sees one. He's the type to give your ass a swat in passing, just because. Or because he likes to see it jiggle. Either way, he likes to touch it. Fills his hand nicely.

☆ SAM : boobs

Sam... just objectifies girls. All the time. He's a horny teenage boy, and nothing gets him off quicker than a nice rack on a girl. His favorite pastime is watching the volleyball girls play, and all he can imagine is grabbing at their tits, or burying his face into them.

☆ SCOTT : boobs

Scott'll stare at your tits shamelessly. Especially since Horizon's activities call for so much hard labor, you're constantly moving and working up a sweat. You mostly wear camisoles and tanktops, so he has an amazing view of your cleavage. Plus you sweating usually equals a see through top, which is an amazing perk.

☆ ANAKIN : boobs

Anakin hates that he can't see your body well in your Jedi attire, but he can see your breasts a bit because of the fabric straining against them. He gets distracted during training watching your tits bounce while you swing your saber about.

☆ JAMES : ass

ass man. ASS. MAN. James' favorite position is doggystyle because he gets to watch your ass ripple and jiggle when his hips smack into it. he'll do double takes when he's walking down the street after seeing a girl with a fat ass. bonus points if you're chubby - fatter ass and a whole lotta whole lotta for him to grab onto!

☆ CLAY : thighs

Clay loves your thighs because they make such a comfortable resting spot. After a hectic day at the office, all he wanted was to bury his head in your plush thighs to relax. The way you'd play in his hair while he rested was also even better.

☆ BILLY : hips

No matter what, Billy always has his hands on your hips. he loves to stand behind you, loves to feel you up. whenever you try and step away, he grabs you by your hips and pulls you back into him. he likes the sense of power it gives him.

☆ LORENZO : boobs + waist

Your body was what initially drew Lorenzo in, but your resourcefulness was a plus, so he said. Totally not your cleavage and waist. He helped you get dressed one morning (he was squatting at your place hiding from Gerbino, go figure) and he refused to get his hands off your waist. Just constantly roaming from your tits to your waist, back and forth. He kept saying it was to adjust your undergarments which you knew was NOT true but... it felt good, so you didn't make a move to stop him.

☆ LUKE : ass

For the same reasons as James and Billy. He loves to worship your body, loves to touch on you, just to be near you. He loves you, but the thing that really made him fall in love was your ass in the jeans you wore on your first date together.

☆ KURT : ass

He just loves your ass. Just does. He loves eating it too. He'll absolutely fiend for you, antsy for you to come home so he can worship your ass. Spank it, grip it, fuck it... any and everything. If it can be done, he'll do it to your ass.

☆ DON : thighs

Don likes to rest. He's content with just sitting. Napping, reading a book, just nothing too strenuous. One day you came and sat on his thigh after washing the dishes, and the way your thighs squished and spread had him curious. Despite being married for a few years, you two had only been intimate a handful of times, which meant he hadn't paid your body much attention. So he began to invite you to sit on his lap, and one hand would idly caress your thighs while the other would jot down notes as he prepped for his next sermon.

☆ VADER : hips

He feels like he has control over you when he holds you by your hips. Plus his hands are so large, it's hard for you to get out of his grasp... generally.

☆ AJ : ass

AJ can appreciate any woman's body, but it's something about a girl's ass that always gets him. He's always at fancy gatherings courtesy of his job, so there are always women wearing fancy dresses - most that accentuate their figures. Also, strip clubs. Can't forget those. His favorite thing about the clubs is the dancers bending over right in his face. All he wants to do is give their asses a good, firm smack. He wished they had a bit more, though. Why do they always hire skinny, flat girls to be dancers?

☆ LEO : hips

You two went to dinner after getting engaged, and the dress you wore had him in a frenzy. It wasn't a skimpy dress or anything either, it just accentuated your natural curves. While he was guiding you around, his hand was on your hips at all times. He'd occasionally give a slight squeeze, not to tease you, just because he needed to have a feel of you constantly.

☆ STEPHEN : thighs + boobs

Stevie likes anything about a woman that's maternal. Or, what he considers maternal. Big breasts, thick thighs... those are all things he associates with a mature woman. So naturally, he wants a woman with those physical attributes!

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