#Prenatal appointment | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thedensworld · 2 months ago

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Born Superhero | J.Ww

Genre: fluff, parent au!

Summary: Started as clueless father to superhero, watch how Wonwoo grow as a father... And a husband.

The pregnancy wasn’t an accident; it was simply... A little unexpected. Okay, very unexpected. You and Wonwoo had been married for only six months—still in the honeymoon phase, barely used to sharing closet space—when life threw you both a curveball.

Wonwoo was overseas on a business trip when he got the alarming call that you had passed out at work. The reassurances from friends didn’t help; his mind raced with every possibility, from exhaustion to something far worse. Before he knew it, he was on the earliest flight back, heart thudding as if it were trying to make its way home ahead of him.

When he finally walked through the door, ready to scold you for pushing yourself too hard, he was met with news that rendered him speechless: you were pregnant. He’d always imagined having kids... someday. But not when he was still trying to remember which side of the bed was "his."

His lips curled into a smile, the kind meant to comfort you as you nervously searched his face for a reaction. But inside? Oh, inside he was trembling so hard he half-expected an earthquake warning to pop up on the TV. Fatherhood. He was going to be a dad. The idea was thrilling, terrifying, and somehow as surreal as finding socks in the fridge.

"Well," he said, pulling you into his arms and trying not to sound like a man whose life just did a triple somersault, "I guess this explains why you kept craving pickles and ice cream together."

Wonwoo made it his mission to be your unwavering support system, even when a storm brewed behind his calm eyes. He bottled up the anxiety gnawing at him—the nagging questions about whether he’d be a good father, if he could handle the responsibility, or if he would ever stop feeling like a deer caught in the headlights of parenthood. He couldn’t bear the thought of adding his fears to your plate when you were already dealing with morning sickness that had you running to the bathroom at all hours, leg cramps that turned simple walks into wobbly adventures, and sleepless nights that left you both bleary-eyed.

So, he channeled every ounce of that anxious energy into action. He worked harder than ever, managing late nights and early mornings, making sure everything you could possibly need was taken care of—from prenatal vitamins to setting up the nursery with the precision of a man assembling a palace. Wonwoo learned to cook your favorite comfort meals, and when you suddenly decided the smell of his go-to cologne made you queasy, he switched brands without a word of complaint. He’d hold your hand through doctor appointments, his smile steady even as the “dad” word hovered in his mind like a flashing neon sign.

And when the big day came, Wonwoo felt time stop as he watched you, the love of his life, bring a new one into the world. All the fear, the endless late-night overthinking—it all melted away the moment he laid eyes on Jeon Rayi. The boy had his eyes, the same quiet intensity, and as he let out his first tiny wail, Wonwoo realized something: he was already a father, whether he felt ready or not.

As you cradled Rayi, exhausted but beaming, Wonwoo gently took his son into his arms. The weight was different than he expected, lighter but powerful, grounding him in a way he didn’t know he needed.

“Look at him,” you whispered, teary-eyed and smiling. “He’s your little twin.”

Wonwoo’s chest swelled with emotion as he looked down at Rayi, whose eyes were now blinking up at him as if to say, Gotcha, Dad.

One thing Wonwoo couldn’t quite shake from his mind was the moment before he first laid eyes on Rayi—the moment when you, exhausted and trembling, brought him into the world. He'd watched enough viral videos of husbands fainting in the delivery room to think he was prepared for anything. I’ll be fine, he’d told himself. But when it actually happened, when he saw you gripping the sides of the bed, your face etched with pain so raw it made his chest tighten, his whole body turned to stone. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, only stare wide-eyed as you endured each wave of agony.

Seeing you in pain, your body shaking as the delivery was finally declared successful, felt like a blow that rattled every nerve he had. All he wanted was to wrap you in his arms, to kiss away every tear and tell you a thousand times over how much he loved you. But he stood there, stunned and aching, until the first tiny cry of Rayi snapped him back to reality.

When the nurse placed Rayi in your arms, a hush fell over the room, broken only by your relieved sobs and the baby's soft whimpers. Wonwoo’s eyes misted as he took in the sight of you holding their son—this tiny, perfect reflection of him. The joy that filled him was almost overwhelming, a light so bright it nearly erased the memory of everything that had come before.

But later, when the room had quieted and it was just the three of you, Wonwoo sat by your side, gently brushing the hair from your damp forehead. His gaze flicked between you and Rayi, and a pained shadow passed over his eyes.

“Seeing you trembling after giving birth,” he whispered, voice hoarse and unsteady, “I don’t think we need more children. I can’t... I don’t want to see you in pain like that again.”

You looked up at him, exhaustion softening your features as you managed a small, tired smile. “Wonwoo, we’ll be okay. This little one is worth it,” you said, touching Rayi’s tiny fist as it clung to your finger.

He nodded, though the worry didn’t fully leave his expression. Deep inside, he knew you were right. Rayi was worth it. But the memory of your pain would be seared into his heart, a reminder of just how fiercely he loved you, and how deeply it shook him to see you hurt.

Wonwoo's journey as a first-time dad was filled with more surprises than he could have anticipated. In the first few weeks, he was as nervous as he had been the day Rayi was born, startled awake by every whimper and uncertain about every diaper change. He was meticulous to the point of being comical, triple-checking the swaddle and peeking into the crib every half hour to make sure Rayi was still breathing.

But as the months rolled on, something remarkable happened: Wonwoo began to relax into fatherhood. The once-trembling hands that struggled to button up tiny onesies became adept at cradling Rayi while half-asleep. He learned the art of the midnight bottle, perfecting a one-handed technique so he could hold Rayi close while warming up formula with the other. The exhaustion was bone-deep, but the sight of Rayi’s gummy smile each morning made every sleepless night worth it.

The two of you grew together as parents, finding comfort in the shared laughter and the quiet chaos of raising a newborn. Wonwoo discovered a new side of himself—one that sang silly songs at 3 a.m. just to keep Rayi from crying, that narrated mundane chores with animated voices as though he were performing on stage. His once measured, serious tone became playful and warm, especially when Rayi would respond with delighted giggles that made his heart swell.

There were moments of doubt, of course. Nights when Rayi was teething and inconsolable, when nothing seemed to work, and Wonwoo would feel the weight of his inadequacies creeping in. During those times, he’d find you both leaning on each other, whispering words of encouragement, your hands clasped in a silent promise that you were in this together. You’d remind him that parenting was messy, imperfect, and filled with trial and error, but that Rayi didn’t need perfection—he just needed love.

As Rayi grew from a newborn into a babbling infant, Wonwoo learned to celebrate the small milestones: the first time Rayi rolled over, the first tooth that peeked through his gums, and the first unsteady steps that had Wonwoo following close behind with arms outstretched, ready to catch him. Each new achievement was a moment of triumph not just for Rayi, but for Wonwoo too. Every smile, every laugh, every moment they shared felt like a victory, a reassurance that he was doing okay, that they were doing okay.

One evening, as the golden light of sunset streamed through the living room, Rayi toddled over with a wobbling gait, his chubby hands reaching out for his father. Wonwoo scooped him up, lifting him into the air and watching as Rayi squealed with joy. For a moment, all his early worries about fatherhood seemed like a distant memory. He met your eyes across the room, sharing a smile that spoke volumes about how far you’d both come.

“We did pretty well, didn’t we?” he said, more to himself, as Rayi wrapped his tiny arms around his neck in a triumphant hug.

“Yes, we did,” you replied, coming over to place a gentle hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder, leaning in to kiss Rayi’s soft cheek.

In that moment, as Rayi laughed between the two of you, Wonwoo knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, he was ready to face them—not alone, but with you and your little family, growing stronger and more full of love each day.

Wonwoo was out of the city for a schedule when his manager hurried toward him, phone in hand, urgency written all over his face. Wonwoo’s chest tightened. It had to be you calling. That was the compromise you both had made—only call when it was urgent. The same rule applied when he was home alone with Rayi, and you were out. If it could be handled without a call, texting was the way. But this was different. His manager wouldn’t rush over for a casual update.

“Y/N…” his manager muttered, handing him the phone. Wonwoo grabbed it immediately, putting it to his ear, his heart pounding.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, worry evident in his voice. He strained to hear past the slight static on the line, but then it hit him—Rayi’s cries, loud and unrelenting in the background.

“Rayi has a fever,” you said, your voice edged with panic. “He’s been crying nonstop for the past hour. I’m on my way to the hospital.”

Wonwoo’s breath hitched. Rayi was rarely sick. The thought of his son, usually so bright and energetic, being unwell made his stomach twist. “Where are you taking him?” he asked, biting his lip to steady his voice.

“Seoul University Hospital,” you replied, and he could hear the tremble in your voice, paired with Rayi’s cries from the backseat. “I couldn’t think of anywhere else...”

“You’re doing a great job,” Wonwoo interrupted gently, his tone firm and reassuring. “I’ll figure out how to leave early. Please, update me when you get there?”

You hummed in acknowledgment, your breaths uneven. “I will.”

“And drive safely,” he added, his voice softening despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him.

The moment the call ended, Wonwoo sprang into action, explaining the situation to the managers and the members. The moment he mentioned Rayi’s fever, everyone rallied around him with understanding and support, urging him to leave immediately.

His manager didn’t waste a second, getting him into the car for the drive back to Seoul. On the way, Wonwoo stared out the window, fists clenched on his lap, running over every scenario in his head. You had mentioned in a text last night that Rayi was feeling warm, but neither of you had expected it to escalate this quickly.

Wonwoo stepped into the hospital, his pace bordering on a run. He hadn’t had time to change out of his work clothes, though he silently thanked his manager for packing a change of clothes in the car. Right now, none of that mattered. His only focus was reaching you and Rayi.

When he got to the room, his breath hitched. The sight of Rayi, lying pale and fragile in your arms with his tiny arm connected to an IV, shattered him. It was a stark contrast to the lively boy who usually filled the house with laughter. His heart broke into pieces.

“He just fell asleep,” you mouthed softly, careful not to disturb Rayi’s slumber.

Wonwoo nodded and immediately moved to sit beside you. His eyes stayed glued to his son as you gently laid Rayi down on the hospital bed, brushing a stray curl from his forehead before stepping away.

Without a word, Wonwoo stood and pulled you into his arms. His embrace was tight, as though holding you close could somehow erase the weight of the day. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner,” he whispered, his voice thick with guilt.

“Thank you for coming,” you murmured back, leaning into him.

He pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders as his eyes searched yours. He noticed the weariness etched into your features—the sleepless night, the worry, the stress of handling it all alone until he arrived. “How is he now?” he asked gently.

You let out a deep sigh. “The doctor said it’s likely a virus. They’re monitoring him, but his fever has come down.”

Relief flashed across Wonwoo’s face, though the worry in his eyes remained. He nodded, then pulled you into another hug, this one softer, his lips brushing against your hair. “You’re doing such an amazing job, love. Thank you for taking care of him.”

You smiled faintly against his chest, grateful for his words, even though the exhaustion still weighed heavily on you.

“You should rest now,” Wonwoo said, pulling back to look at you again. “I’ll stay with him and take care of everything tonight. You need sleep.”

But you shook your head, stubborn as always. “No, I can’t. I need to be here.”

Wonwoo sighed, but he didn’t push further. He knew better than to argue when you were this determined. Instead, he brought over a chair and sat beside you. That night, the two of you stayed awake together, taking turns checking Rayi’s temperature and watching his small chest rise and fall with each steady breath.

Every so often, Wonwoo would glance at you, catching the way your gaze softened as you looked at Rayi. In those moments, despite the exhaustion and worry, he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude—for you, for Rayi, for the family you’d built together.

By the time the early morning light began creeping through the hospital curtains, you leaned your head against his shoulder, both of you too tired to talk but sharing an unspoken bond of love and determination. Whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew you’d face them together.

The hospital room was quiet except for the soft hum of medical equipment. After two long days of watching over Rayi, exhaustion had overtaken you and Wonwoo. Neither of you had gone home since that night, surviving on restless naps on the small couch by Rayi's bedside. Wonwoo tried to stay alert, but his body betrayed him, slipping into moments of sleep. Every time he woke, guilt would gnaw at him as he saw you still wide awake, your eyes fixed on Rayi, your motherly instinct unwilling to rest.

That morning, as sunlight filtered through the window, Wonwoo stirred and glanced at you. You were slowly getting up from the couch, your movements unsteady. He sat up quickly, alarmed as you swayed slightly, your hand gripping the armrest for support.

“Babe, are you okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. He moved to your side just as you nearly stumbled. Placing a hand on your forehead, his expression darkened. “You’re burning up. I think you have a fever.”

“Oh no,” you muttered under your breath, more annoyed with yourself than anything.

Wonwoo's hands gently cupped your face, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Please rest, babe. You’ve been running on fumes, and Rayi wouldn’t want to see his mom pushing herself too hard.” His voice was soft but firm, and the concern in his eyes made your chest tighten.

You blinked rapidly, trying to hold back tears. His words hit too close to home, but you didn’t want to break down. Not now.

Unfortunately, your body didn’t give you much choice. By midday, your fever had worsened, leaving Wonwoo no option but to call his brother to watch over Rayi while he took you to the emergency room.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled weakly as you laid on the hospital bed, waiting for the test result.

“No,” Wonwoo said, shaking his head, his tone gentle but resolute. “I’m sorry. You’re sick because you’ve been taking care of Rayi and pushing yourself beyond your limit. I should’ve been better at taking care of you too.” He reached out, softly patting your head in an attempt to comfort you.

Your head throbbed, and the dizziness didn’t help. You couldn’t help but think about Rayi and how frustrating it must have been for him to endure the same symptoms. “This headache... I think I know why Rayi was so upset,” you murmured faintly, earning a sad chuckle from Wonwoo.

“Still hurts?” he asked, his hand tightening around yours. You nodded weakly, and his expression crumbled. He hated feeling helpless, but right now, all he could do was stay by your side, offering silent support.

When the test results finally came back, the doctor informed you that you were dehydrated and your body was too run-down to fight off the fever. “We’ll need to keep you for observation,” the doctor said.

Wonwoo nodded, his grip on your hand steady. “Do whatever it takes to make her better,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

As the nurses prepared for your moving, he turned to you, brushing hair away from your face. “You’re going to rest now, okay? No arguments,” he whispered with a small, tired smile.

After hours of shuffling between emergency room and paperwork, Wonwoo finally managed to arrange for you and Rayi to share a private room. It was ironic, he thought, as he pushed the wheelchair carrying you to the room—both his loves were now patients, and he was playing the role of a full-time caregiver.

Rayi lay in his hospital bed, still hooked up to the IV, his tiny frame looking so much better than days ago under the blue blanket. You were wheeled to the second bed beside him, visibly exhausted but trying to stay strong.

Wonwoo helped you settle in, adjusting your pillow and tucking the blanket around you like you always did for Rayi. “There. Now I have both of you in my sight,” he said softly, sitting down between your beds with a sigh of relief.

You gave him a weak smile. “Not how I imagined our first family staycation.”

Wonwoo chuckled, though there was a hint of tiredness in his voice. “Yeah, I don’t think this is making it to our family scrapbook.” He reached out, holding your hand in one of his while keeping the other near Rayi’s bedside.

The days that followed were a blur of tending to both of you. Wonwoo quickly fell into a rhythm—feeding Rayi when he woke up crying, gently wiping your face with a cool cloth to keep your fever down, and running back and forth to fetch food or talk to doctors.

At one point, as you watched him juggling everything, you couldn’t help but smile. “You’re really something, Jeon Wonwoo. I didn’t think you had it in you to manage two patients.”

He looked at you, his glasses slipping slightly down his nose as he smiled back. “Turns out I’m pretty good at this dad-and-husband thing. But don’t get any ideas about a repeat performance.”

“Noted,” you said, laughing softly.

Rayi started to recover quickly, his fever subsiding by the second day. You could see him regaining his usual cheerfulness, even managing to giggle when Wonwoo made silly faces. But that didn’t stop Wonwoo from being extra cautious, checking on both of you every few minutes.

One evening, when Rayi was sound asleep, you watched Wonwoo nodding off in the chair between the two of you, his head tilted awkwardly. “Wonwoo,” you whispered, shaking his hand gently.

“Hm?” He jolted awake, rubbing his eyes and looking around.

“Go to the couch and sleep,” you said softly.

He shook his head. “I’m fine here. What if one of you needs me?”

You smiled, your heart swelling with gratitude. “We’re okay, Wonwoo. You’ve done so much already. Please rest.”

Reluctantly, he agreed, dragging himself to the small couch in the corner. As he lay there, his head resting on a folded jacket, he thought about how much this experience had changed him. He wasn’t just a husband or a dad anymore—he was part of a team, a family that needed him, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.

As you drifted off to sleep, with Rayi’s soft breathing filling the room, you glanced at Wonwoo one last time. Despite his exhaustion, there was a peaceful smile on his face, and you knew that in his quiet, unwavering way, he would always take care of both of you.

After six long days at the hospital, the "family staycation" was finally over. Wonwoo drove the three of you home, the car filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by Rayi's babbles from the backseat. The little boy had been released two days earlier, and during that time, Wonwoo had asked his parents to take care of him so you could recover without any distractions. Now, as the car pulled into the driveway, Rayi was buzzing with excitement to be home again—and to be with you.

The moment you stepped inside, Rayi nearly leaped into Wonwoo's arms, squealing with delight. “He really missed us,” Wonwoo said, his voice soft with affection.

“I think he missed the house more,” you teased as Rayi wiggled to be put down. The instant his feet touched the floor, he zoomed off on his walker, embarking on a grand tour of the house.

Wonwoo chuckled as he picked up the bags, watching Rayi disappear into the kitchen. “Guess he’s making sure everything’s still here.”

Meanwhile, you sank into the couch with a relieved sigh. Days of lying in a hospital bed had made you sluggish, and even standing for more than a few minutes felt like an Olympic feat. As much as you wanted to jump back into your routine, your body begged for more rest.

Wonwoo joined you on the couch, plopping down beside you with a contented groan. Together, you watched Rayi race around, his walker creating an amusing squeak with every step as he stopped to admire his favorite show playing on the TV.

“You know what…” Wonwoo said suddenly, his voice thoughtful.

“Hm?” you hummed, turning to him.

“The most clich�� thing that would happen now is me falling sick,” he joked, leaning his head back and closing his eyes as though imagining the scenario.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You? No way. You’re strong. You won’t get sick.”

He nodded, pretending to agree, but the twinkle in his eye betrayed his skepticism. “Let’s hope you’re right,” he said with a grin.

But hope wasn’t enough.

A few days later, the doorbell rang, and you were greeted by a pile of fruit baskets and home-cooked meals from Wonwoo’s bandmates. Word had gotten out that Wonwoo had come down with a fever and couldn’t make it to the schedule.

You peeked into the living room where Wonwoo lay sprawled out on the couch, bundled in a blanket with a thermometer sticking out of his mouth. He groaned dramatically when he saw you holding the care packages.

“I told you it was going to happen,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by the blanket.

You stifled a laugh as you set the baskets down. “Guess you’re not as strong as I thought.”

“Hey, I fought off a virus and took care of two patients for a week,” he said, sitting up slightly to defend himself. “I deserve some slack.”

“You do,” you agreed, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Now let me take care of you for a change.”

From the corner, Rayi giggled, pointing at his dad bundled up like a burrito. “Appa funny!” he chirped, and you couldn’t help but laugh along.

Despite his fever, Wonwoo smiled. Even in his weakened state, he knew moments like these were what made being a parent and a husband so worth it.

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reidmania · 3 months ago

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in the absence of you | s.reid

summary; to find out you're pregnant and then experience a miscarriage while spencer is in prison, is a lot, trying to figure out if you should tell him when he gets home is just as much.

warnings; fem reader, hurt x comfort, mainly hurt, a lot of angst, miscarriages, pregnancy, guilt, withholding information, post prison spencer, mentions cat, probably inaccurate medical information, messy timeline, relationship struggles, imma say 18+ because there is very strong mentions of sex, and bad sex experience, emotional deattachment, grief, guilt, reader strongly believes she did something wrong, spencer blames himself for her dettachment, insecurities, trust issues, established relationships, hopeful ending, (happy ending would be inaccurate bc theres nothing happy about this fic!) feeling alone, yeah man idk this is just sad.

an; um.. so this was suppose to be fic 5 but i wanted to post it sooner, and its BEARtober so i can actaully do whatever i want.. thank you, i know i posted fic one two hours ago.. but its technically day 2 bc its 12:30am.. im so sorry in advance. 4.7k... YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME!! if this will trigger you, please don’t read.

beartober masterlist

You remember the moment clearly: the world was grey, the air heavy with the scent of rain, when you stumbled upon the truth in a small, sterile bathroom. It had been two weeks since Spencer had been taken away, wrongfully convicted and trapped in a nightmare you couldn’t fathom. You had just returned from a visit, the echoes of his voice still dancing in your mind like a haunting melody. You stood there, staring at the little stick in your hand, the two pink lines appearing like a beacon of hope in the darkness that surrounded you. Your heart raced, a mixture of joy and fear spiralling within you. You were pregnant. Spencer’s child was growing inside you, a tiny miracle nestled in the shadows of despair.

In that moment, you could almost picture his face—the way his eyes would light up, a smile breaking across his face as he wrapped his arms around you. You imagined the joy of sharing this news, of planning a future together even in the midst of chaos. But as the excitement bubbled within you, a chill settled in your chest. Spencer was in prison, suffering through an ordeal that felt cruel and unjust. You couldn’t bring this news of a new life into the turmoil that enveloped you both. What would it mean for him to hear such news in a place where hope felt like a distant memory? No, you decided. You would wait. You would hold this secret close until he was home, until you could see the joy reflected in his eyes, not the shadows of despair.

Days turned into weeks, and each passing moment felt like a tightrope walk, balancing on the edge of your own joy and the weight of his suffering. You became adept at hiding your secret, slipping into a routine that felt increasingly fragile. You took prenatal vitamins in the morning, their presence a constant reminder of the life blossoming within you. You attended appointments alone, tracing your fingers over the growing bump that would soon signify so much.

But with every visit to Spencer, every moment shared behind that glass, you felt the joy dimming under the weight of your choice. You didn’t want to add to his pain; his world was already dark. You watched him struggle to hold onto hope, and you couldn’t bear the thought of placing another burden on his shoulders. You knew if you told him he would be happy, and then feel horrible because you were pregnant, and he wasn’t there, he deserved to hear it when he could process it. That was something else you worried about, the timing was horrible, not unwelcomed on your behalf but unfortunate. When Spencer got out he would need time to adjust, you would need time to adjust.

When you touched your belly, you whispered promises, vowing to keep this little one safe until he was free. But it wasn’t long before the joy turned to an ache, a sense of loneliness creeping in. You would lie in bed at night, tracing your fingers over your bump, feeling the small kicks and flutters, and wishing desperately that he could be there to experience it with you. The silence felt oppressive, filled with unspoken words and unshared dreams.

Then, just two weeks before Spencer came home, everything shattered. You found yourself crumpled on the bathroom floor, the world spinning around you as the pain hit like a tidal wave. You didn’t want to believe what was happening, didn’t want to accept that the life you had held onto so tightly was slipping away. The miscarriage was both a physical and emotional unravelling, a gut-wrenching reminder of how fragile hope can be.

You spent the following days in a fog, the echo of your loss drowning out everything else. Each moment felt surreal, like you were watching life unfold from behind a glass wall. You wanted to scream, to let the world know that you had lost something precious, but the fear of burdening Spencer kept you silent. You couldn’t tell anyone, nobody knew you were pregnant beforehand. You kept the joy away from the world until it could reach Spencer, and now it was gone. In the quiet of your apartment, you felt the walls closing in. The space that had once been filled with laughter and love now felt hollow, echoing only with your grief. You avoided places that reminded you of the joy you had once felt, the memories of what could have been cutting deep into your heart. You wandered through your days in a daze, wearing a mask of normalcy for the world to see. Friends reached out, concern etched on their faces as they noticed your distance. You offered polite smiles and reassurances, your heart aching at the thought of revealing your pain. They didn’t know what you had lost, and you didn’t want to pull them into your darkness.

At night, when the silence was deafening, you would curl up on the couch, clutching a pillow to your chest, tears streaming down your face. You replayed the moments you had spent with Spencer, the way his laughter would fill a room, how he would hold you close and make you feel safe. You missed him fiercely, but you also felt an overwhelming loneliness, the grief a reminder of everything you had kept hidden from him. You thought about telling him, about sharing the weight of your sorrow, but the thought made your chest tighten.

Every time you looked at him when you visited, your heart twisted with guilt. He deserved to know, but you feared his reaction, the possibility of seeing that flicker of pain in his eyes. You wanted to protect him, but in doing so, you found yourself carrying this burden alone. You acted the best you could when you visited, but you knew he could tell you weren’t okay.

Two weeks have passed since Spencer’s release, but the warmth of his return hasn’t settled into your bones. Instead, it feels like a lingering chill, a shadow that stretches over your heart. How could you add to his pain when he had just returned to a world that felt foreign? He had faced horrors you could only imagine, and you didn’t want to push him deeper into the darkness. You stand in the kitchen, staring blankly at the dishes piled high in the sink, each one a reminder of how normalcy feels out of reach. The sunlight filters through the window, casting a golden hue across the room, but it does little to brighten the dark corners of your mind.

Spencer is home, yet he feels distant, a haunting echo of the man you once knew. You watch him move around the apartment, and while he wears a smile that is both familiar and foreign, his eyes reveal the weight of the trauma he carries. You want to comfort him, to wrap him in the warmth of your love, but the grief of your loss sits like a stone in your chest, making it hard to breathe. It’s been so easy to slip into the role of caretaker, to push your own feelings aside for the sake of his recovery and adjustment. The truth is suffocating.a secret you’ve kept locked away, tucked into the recesses of your heart. You want to scream it, to let the world know, but the fear of burdening him with your sorrow keeps your lips sealed.

Every time you meet his gaze, you feel the weight of your silence pressing down on you. Spencer is still adjusting, still fighting to find his place in a world that has changed around him. You can see the flickers of his old self—the gentle humour, the way his laughter dances in the air—but the shadows linger. You can’t shake the feeling that by holding back your truth, you’re pulling him deeper into the void. Spencer’s presence was a comfort, but the weight of your secret loomed like a dark cloud. You started to withdraw, spending long hours lost in thought, feeling like a ghost haunting your own life. In the two weeks Spencer had been home, you had sex once, a few nights after he got home– and honestly it was probably the worst sex you’ve ever had, not because of him, he did everything perfectly, you felt good, physically, he was gentle, and focused. Three months is a long time without sex, and physically it felt good, really good.

But the physical pleasure didn’t compare to the mental disturbance. You felt like the world was crushing you, there was so much guilt and disgust flowing through your veins because it felt so wrong. You kept it together and you didn’t blame him for not noticing, you kept your eyes closed throughout the entirety of it, too scared that if you let them open the tears would fall. He was focused on being gentle. It was messy, and fast, and you were almost thankful. You waited till Spencer fell asleep before you hid yourself away in the bathroom and spent hours crying. You didn’t wake him, you refused to. He deserved rest, good rest in the comfort of your shared bed. Anytime he tried to initiate more you tried, you allowed yourself to get lost in the feeling of his lips for a while but you couldn’t do it when the feeling bubbles in your chest again and you felt the struggle to breathe, not from the kiss but from the pure weight of your guilt.

You hardly slept, the one way to escape your burden taken away when your dreams of what your life could’ve been turned into nightmares of what you had lost. Most nights you’d lie still in Spencer’s arms, his body warm against yours, yet it provided no comfort, only reminding you of what you were keeping from him. You felt guilty, guilty that the ultrasound photos sat in the bottom of your handbag untouched since the day you lost the baby, you couldn’t look at them, it felt like torture. You felt like it was your fault, no matter how many times the doctor told you, it wasn’t, it was a thought you couldn’t shake. You felt like you were constantly battling the idea of telling Spencer, which would only put more on his shoulders, more that he didn’t need, but he deserved to know, you knew he would want to know.

You were pulling away, He noticed, of course, but he attributed it to his own struggles.

“Hey, you okay?” Spencer asks one evening, breaking the silence that has settled like a heavy fog between you. You look up from your coffee, the steam curling into the air like the thoughts you can’t articulate.

“Yeah, just tired,” you reply, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You wonder if he can see through it, if he senses the turmoil beneath the surface.

He nods, though uncertainty flashes across his face. “You’ve been saying that a lot lately. I know things have been rough, I- I know things are different- I’m different. I'm sorry, but I’m here..” The sincerity in his voice hits you hard. You want to believe that you can lean on him, that you can share the weight of your grief, but the thought of adding to his burden paralyses you. He’s already been through hell; how can you throw your pain into the mix?

“It’s just… adjusting to everything,” you say, your voice wavering. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around all that’s happened.”

Spencer steps closer, the warmth of his body radiating into the space between you. “I know. We will be okay.. Are we okay?.”

Your heart aches at the earnestness in his gaze. You want to reach out, to let him pull you into the light, but the chasm of your grief feels insurmountable. It feels silly trying to act like everythings fine, it would be useless to lie, the colour drained from your face and the emptiness in your eyes spoke words louder than a lied ‘im fine’ ever could, so you gave in to his knowledge. You nodded, “ We’re okay– I- I just need time,” you whisper, looking down at your hands. “I’ll be okay.” You move away towards the couch, he follows, sitting next to you as you bury yourself in the sofa.

The silence that follows is heavy, filled with unspoken words and unacknowledged pain. Spencer nods slowly, his expression one of resignation mixed with concern. You can see the wheels turning in his mind, the thoughts he’s too afraid to voice. As the days pass, the emotional distance between you only grows. You drift through your routines, performing the motions of daily life—cooking meals, doing laundry, going to work, avoiding the deeper conversations that tug at your heart. You want to talk about it, want to tell him how devastated you are, but every time you think of opening your mouth, the words stick in your throat. Each time he reaches out, trying to connect, you feel a pang of guilt. He deserves to be wrapped in the comfort of your love, not burdened by your sorrow. You keep telling yourself it’s better this way, that it’s noble to protect him, but deep down, you know it’s a lie.

“Let’s watch something together,” he suggests, his tone light but laced with worry. You nod absentmindedly, your mind elsewhere. The sound of laughter from the show fills the room, but it feels hollow. You can’t shake the heaviness that clings to your heart.

“Do you remember the last movie we watched together?” Spencer asks, attempting to lighten the mood. “The one with the ridiculous plot twist?” He offers, shuffling his body to face you a little more, you continue picking at your nails, keeping your gaze on the tv, honestly hardly hearing his words

You force a chuckle, but it doesn’t reach your heart. You don’t remember, not in the slightest, maybe if you thought about anything besides the weight in your chest you would be able to, but everything was distant, you were distant. “Yeah, that was… something.”

He turns to face you, and you can see the concern in his eyes. “You’re not really here, are you?”

His words cut deep, and the truth behind them wraps around your throat like a vice. “I’m trying,” you manage, feeling the tears threaten to spill over.

“Just… talk to me,” he pleads, and there’s a desperation in his voice that makes your heart ache. “Is it too much? Baby, tell me what you’re thinking.” He shuffles closer. You tense.

And yet, the silence persists. The weight of your loss feels too heavy to share, like a storm cloud hanging over both of you. You can’t bear the thought of seeing the flicker of pain in his eyes, the guilt that would inevitably follow. You feared saying it aloud would make it too real, telling him would make it too real. He didn’t deserve that, not after the months he spent being put through unimaginable things. He was trying here, to make this as easy for you as possible, showing empathy in the time he needed it most. That plagued you with guilt you couldn’t shake because no matter how hard you tried to be present, your heart remained in pieces on the bathroom floor.

“It's not you.” It came out quiet and if your sense of self awareness didn’t feel thousands of miles away you would’ve cringed. It wasn’t him, he was trying his best and dealing with stuff and turmoil you couldn’t even begin to imagine, you expected a change in him, that wasn’t the issue. Your head dropped as your fingers moved a little rougher, now picking at the skin around your nails, a horrible habit Spencer had helped you stop when you first started dating, you subconsciously picked it up again when he went to prison.

He moved closer, if you looked up you would’ve seen his brows knitted in concern and a frown on his face as he reached out to depart your hands from one another, taking one on his own to stop your assault. “Then what is it?” He was pleading for an insight into the mess in your head, that was terrifying because you knew there was a similar mess in his own, for a completely different reason. You were both silently fighting emotions impossible to articulate. Spencer was slowly adjusting, slowly. It took time for him to even begin to talk about what had happened in his time locked up, you never pushed. He was trying to let you in, and you were trying to push him out, but you could see it in his eyes, he knew there was something, and you could push him away and try to handle this alone, but you didn’t want to be alone.

You looked up at him, tears lining your eyes. You chewed at your lip before you let out a harsh breath, “I got my period.” Your voice broke, then the tears followed as a sob left your lips. Then your hands were reaching to cover your face as the tears continued, falling as if you hadn’t been crying everyday for the last month. Waking up to your period was maybe the worst feeling you had ever experienced, the reality washing over you again, and the sight of blood filling you with a memory you didn’t think you could ever forget. It was painful, so painful.

His eyes widened when you started sobbing, each sound leaving your lips causing his heart to weigh heavier as he moved closer to wrap his arms around you. He knew you, he knew you on your period. Sure you were more emotional than normal but not this emotional. His hands threaded through your hair as you buried your face in his chest, still covered by your hands. He didn’t want to admit that this was the closest he had felt to you since his release. “Is that what's wrong, sweet girl? Are you in pain?” He asked, and you shook your head as sobs ripped from your throat followed by wet hiccups. You were sure there were probably wet stains on his shirt despite the fact your hands were in the way, your tears would not stop, you couldn’t stop them, you couldn’t carry this alone. Not anymore.

It was muffled by your hands and his t-shirt, hardly coherent through your sobs, “I was pregnant,” You felt him stiffen slightly and you knew he heard it, but once the truth was in the air, once the words left your lips, the others followed almost instantly. “I was pregnant and I lost it – I killed our baby.” It was all broken words, the ugliest side of your guilt travelling through in your words.

He was quiet. That was the worst part. You knew he wasn’t mad, actually you didn’t know that, deep down maybe, but right now you truly believed he could have any sort of reaction, even the most unlike him. Right now your brain was absent of any ability to process what you were doing. Your chest was so tight it hurt and you were genuinely struggling to breathe.

When he heard your slight hyperventilating against his chest he seemed to snap out of whatever state he was in, he pulled back to look at your face, his hands moving to cup your cheeks to pull you to look at him, the sight was heartbreaking. “Breathe, Please. Deep breaths” He guided, his voice gentle but you could see emotion in his eyes, something less gentle, not so much anger, maybe hurt, maybe confusion, maybe guilt. You couldn’t see well enough through your tears to figure it out.

You listened, the air you breathed in deeply was so cold it made your throat burn, it was just as cold when you breathed it back out, then again. “I’m sorry,” You whispered, the tears were still falling, you didn’t bother trying to stop them anymore. It was useless.

“That’s a lot–” He shook his head, “--You were pregnant?” It was the same whisper as yours, as if he was trying to make sure he properly understood what had left your lips, as if this was a reality he didn’t want to be. He was confused, of course he was.

You frowned as you looked up at him, you knew he would want to know everything, and as much as you knew he deserved that, explaining and reliving it felt like a punishment, as if you needed more of that. “Spencer” it was pleading. You were pleading with him not to dig, not to ask, selfishly so, because you knew he deserved everything, that he needed to hear it just as much as you needed to not talk about it.

He frowned, his thumb reaching to brush tears away from your cheeks, the movement useless because the tears kept falling, “I know it hurts. Can you tell me when?” he asked, he was being so gentle, it only made the guilt in your chest burn more, his kindness was cruel because you didn’t deserve it, not in your eyes.

You hiccuped as you looked down, he lifted your face a little more, encouraging you to look back at him, you did. You “Um– A month after- you uh” You trailed off, a month after his life was ruined and he was wrongfully convicted, he knew what you meant, you could see it in the way his eyebrows furrowed further. He was quiet, the silence thick with so many questions and needed explanations, he needed to know what happened, he needed to be walked through it because he wasn’t there. You knew the guilt was probably eating at him for that, you partly wished you hadn’t mentioned it, that you had been more sensible before blurting it out.

“How far along were you?” He asked, another question tumbling out so gently. He was trying to be careful, despite his hundreds of questions. There was no backing out now, he deserved to know everything just as much as you deserved to be able to tell him everything.

You hiccuped as you answered, “Eight and a half weeks.”

His eyes closed as a harsh breath left his lips, his hands dropped from your face to drag along his own. You weren’t sure what he was feeling, you weren’t sure what you were feeling. He did the maths in his head to figure out when you miscarried, he didn’t want to make you answer it. His hands dropped from his face to his lap as he looked back at you, then you saw tears in his eyes, ones that mirrored your own. “Did you find out what happened?” He asked, voice strained.

You dropped your head and looked down at your hands, “Genetic abnormalities” you whispered. Saying more seemed impossible as your throat felt like it was closing.

You remembered the appointment after like a scene on repeat. There were so many tears, so many ‘it's not your fault, there's nothing you could’ve done' and even more ‘Do you want me to call somebody?’ from the doctor, the question would only make your tears harsher, because there was nobody to call.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice cracked with emotion as he searched your eyes. He wasn’t angry, he was hurt, processing, overwhelmed, anything but angry with you. He wanted to know, he wanted to know everything, especially something like this.

Your head dropped further as you whispered and ‘im sorry’ which made him shake his head, and remind you that he asked you why you didn’t tell him, he wanted to know what was going on in your head, he wanted to know, he wanted you to let him in, to let him grieve this loss with you. He wanted to know what it was that made you feel like this was something you had to carry alone.

“You’ve been through – You’re going through so much” You mumbled out, every word seemed harder to get out, but there was no out of this conversation, no running or hiding from the truth, from him. “I didn’t– I didn’t want you to have to deal with this as well.”

His frown deepened, and you swore your heart broke in half when a sound so sad left his lips, as if what you said physically wounded him. “You-” He let out a harsh breath, “That's not fair.” He whispered, and you knew he was right. You withheld information he deserved to know, that could affect him just as much as it did you, and he understood your intentions, and your fears but that didn’t make it any easier to process. He wasn’t mad, he was hurt, maybe a little bit mad, but not so much with you, with everything else. “You don’t– Angel, you can’t choose that for me. This– this is just as much on me to deal with as it is for you. I want to deal with this with you.”

“I know.” You were silent after that, because the only words you could think of was ‘I’m sorry’ and you knew he didn’t want that. You knew he didn’t want you to be sorry, he wanted you to trust him to let him in, to not treat him like he was fragile. He wanted you to have faith in him, to be able to rely on him, he wanted to be there. He hated that he hadn’t been there. He was right, it wasn’t your job to dictate what he could and couldn’t handle, and while maybe with the right intentions, you were taking away such an important part of your relationship from him, you were hiding something so important to you, and you knew it was just as important to him.

Maybe I’m sorry was all you could think of, because that's all you were. So sorry. Sorry that you hid it from him, sorry that you let him down, sorry that you lost the baby. You were so filled with guilt and grief it was consuming you. No matter how many times you were told it wasn’t your fault, the wonder of what if took up too much space in your mind, what if you just did one thing differently, it was useless, because it was out of your control, that felt worse. That there was nothing you could have done to change it. Spencer was just as silent as you were. The weight of what happened caused a crack neither of you wanted there, you didn’t know how to fix it, you didn’t know how to let him into the mind you didn’t even want to be in.

“I love you” He muttered.

The sob followed. You didn’t realise how much he was holding back emotion till this moment. Till he leant forward to wrap his arms around you and his head buried into the crook of your neck, seeking your comfort just as much as you seeked his. You shuffled closer and wrapped your arms around his, easing into his touch. “It's not your fault.” He spoke through his sobs, His hand trailed up to cup the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair, pulling you closer, at his words your mind swirled, hearing it from him made you think about it, it didn’t shake the guilt, but it softened it, your sob followed his.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, crying in the comfort of one another, at some point you had moved so you were on his lap, his arms around you like he needed it to breathe. Telling him didn’t ease the grief you were carrying, you didn’t think anything would, but you were feeling it with him, and you weren’t alone in it. There were many more conversations to be had about it, probably hundreds of more apologies between the two of you, probably a lot more crying and days just like this, tangled in shared sadness and maybe that wouldn’t fix what you were feeling, ore take away the grief and maybe it would be just like this for a while.

But you trusted him, and you trusted that you would be okay, that your relationship would be okay.

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devotedlyandrogynousyouth · 1 month ago

Note

What about a baby daddy Bruce?.. it can be smut or not.. I don’t mind it👀👀

Yes!!! Sorry this took so long, college classes are kicking my ass </3

Baby Daddy! Bruce Wayne

Baby Daddy! Bruce Wayne who insists on being involved in every aspect of your pregnancy, despite the fact that you’re not together. He tells you it’s because it’s “the right thing to do,” but deep down, he just can’t stand the idea of missing anything about the child you’re bringing into the world.

Baby Daddy! Bruce Wayne who tries to keep things professional and detached, but every time he sees the baby bump, his mask slips just a little. You catch him staring with a mixture of awe and guilt, as if he’s wondering how the two of you got here.

Baby Daddy! Bruce Wayne who somehow knows more about your prenatal appointments than you do. He shows up unannounced to check in, even if it’s just to sit silently in the waiting room. He’ll never say it, but he’s terrified of something going wrong.

Baby Daddy! Bruce Wayne who starts scheduling his patrols and meetings around your doctor appointments, even though you’ve told him he doesn’t need to come to every single one. He just raises an eyebrow and says, “It’s my child too.”

Baby Daddy! Bruce Wayne who makes it clear that you and the baby will always be safe, even if it means stationing a discreet security team outside your apartment. You’ve caught him doing perimeter checks before and honestly don’t know whether to be annoyed or touched.

Baby Daddy! Bruce Wayne who tries to keep his feelings in check but can’t help being overprotective. When you casually mention being tired or nauseous, he immediately offers to have Alfred cook for you or send a car to take you home from work.

Baby Daddy! Bruce Wayne who doesn’t want to overstep but can’t stop himself from spoiling you. One day it’s a ridiculously comfortable pregnancy pillow delivered to your door, the next it’s a state-of-the-art crib that you definitely didn’t ask for.

Baby Daddy! Bruce Wayne who tries to maintain emotional distance but absolutely loses his cool when the baby kicks for the first time while he’s around. He freezes, his hand lingering on your belly longer than necessary, and you swear you see a flicker of vulnerability in his usually stoic expression.

Baby Daddy! Bruce Wayne who makes promises to the baby when he thinks you’re not listening. Things like, “I’ll keep you safe,” and “You’ll never have to know the things I’ve seen,” spoken so softly that it breaks your heart just a little.

Baby Daddy! Bruce Wayne who struggles with the line between co-parenting and wanting to take care of you, too. He’s constantly asking if you’re okay, if you’ve eaten, if you need anything, but he’s careful not to cross boundaries you’ve clearly set.

Baby Daddy! Bruce Wayne who is secretly terrified of being a bad father. He doesn’t say it, but you can see it in the way he obsesses over every detail of the nursery or how he hesitates before asking if you’d consider staying at the Manor—just until the baby’s born.

Baby Daddy! Bruce Wayne who is there, in the delivery room, holding your hand even though you told him he didn’t have to be. He’s calm, composed, and quietly reassuring, but the way he looks at the baby once they’re born is raw, unguarded love.

Baby Daddy! Bruce Wayne who respects your space (mostly) but insists on being a constant in the baby’s life. He’s there for the first feeding, the first sleepless night, and every other milestone, always offering help without expecting anything in return.

Baby Daddy! Bruce Wayne who gets off on thinking about your baby bump so much more often than he would ever like to admit. He just can't help it when he thinks about how that swell in your stomach was a product of you and him, not any other man.

Baby Daddy! Bruce Wayne who sometimes catches himself imagining what it would be like if the two of you were together—late nights in the Manor as a family, holidays, bedtime stories—but he never says it out loud. Instead, he focuses on being the best father he can, even if it means loving you from a distance.

Masterlist

#batfam #batfamily #batman #dc #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne fluff #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne #batman smut #batman x reader #batman fanfiction

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lee-laurent · 3 months ago

Text

A Love Like No Other - Quinn Hughes

Summary: faye's whole life gets turned upside down

content: angst, pregnancy, making out, refrences to sex, dirty jokes, fluff, panic attacks, body image issues

wc: 17.8k

notes: i'll make a part 2 if you guys want! this took me ages

"I told you I'm fine, Mom," Faye sighed down the phone, continuing to highlight vocabulary words in her textbook.

"Are you sure? Your dad and I could make a trip to help out. Make sure things are-"

"Mom, you guys don't need to do that," Faye sat back in her chair, pressing her palm against the small but growing bump underneath her very oversized hoodie. It was always like this when her mom called--concern that bordered on suffocation.

"Well that Hughes boy isn't, so we just feel--"

"Quinn is busy, Mom. He's working," Faye gritted her teeth, trying to maintain her composure. It wasn't like Quinn could drop everything and come running every time she needed something. He had his own life...that was over 2,000 miles away.

"You and you're health should be his priority, Faye. It's not just about him anymore." Her mom's voice took on that disappointed edge, the one that always made Faye feel small. "You're carrying his baby and he's playing hockey like nothing has changed."

Faye squeezed her eyes shut, a wave of nausea washing over her and it wasn't entirely from the pregnancy. "I told you, he's helping in his own way. We talk. He's... trying." The words felt flimsy leaving her mouth. Like she was defending him way more than she needed to. Or maybe she was defending herself.

Her mom sighed. "I just want what's best for you, sweepea. Your senior year should be about school, not... this."

And there it was. The disappointment. The subtle reminder of everything Faye was now balancing. Projects, assignments, a baby growing inside her, and parents who could barely look at her the same way since she'd told them. It wasn't how things were supposed to go.

"I know, Mom," Faye sounded exhausted. "I've got it under control. I'm handling it." Even if some days it felt like she was hanging on by a thread.

"Okay. But remember, your dad and I are just a phone call away. If you need anything. Anything at all."

"I know." Faye swallowed back the lump in her throat. "I'll talk to you later, okay? I've got class in a bit."

"Alright, honey. Take care of yourself."

As Faye ended the call, she stared at the phone for a long moment, her thumb hovering over Quinn's name in her contact list. They hadn't talked much lately... not really. It was like there was an invisible wall between them, something neither of them knew how to address. Or maybe they just didn't want to.

She dropped the phone onto her desk and stood up, pushing away the overwhelming feelings of fear and isolation that were creeping in. She had class, a paper due, and a prenatal appointment next week. No time to fall apart.

Now how did Faye get into her current position? Well... it was quite the story.

The early summer air had a way of making everything feel lighter. All anxieties faded into the background as the music thumped through the backyard. Faye hadn't planned on going to the party, but Ethan had insisted, dragging her away for one night relaxation.

She stepped into the crowded house, the smell of cheap beer and sweat hitting her like a wall. She scanned the room for familiar faces, relieved when she spotted a few of the hockey boys gathered around the kitchen table, laughing about something she couldn't hear over the noise.

"Faye!" Luca waved her over, a large smile on his face. "We're playing pong. You in?"

She smiled back, shaking her head. "Maybe later. I'm gonna grab something to drink first." She was already regretting not staying home.

She made her way over to a cooler, but a light tap on her shoulder made her turn around. She was met with a slightly familiar face. Quinn Hughes. She knew him from being friend's with Luke's friends. They'd met once before... maybe twice. She wasn't really sure. But he looked relaxed, a grin tugging at his lips, a beer in his hand.

"Hey, funny seeing you here," he said, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the music.

"Yeah, well, Luke and his friends can be persuasive," Faye replied with a light laugh.

Quinn raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of his drink. "You look like you could use something stronger than whatever's in that cooler."

Faye glanced at him, the casual way he leaned against the counter, his presence somehow more noticeable than the dozens of the other people crammed into the house. She bit her lip, weighing her options. It was just a drink at a party. "Maybe you're right," she smiled.

Quinn took her to take a shot with him. Then he went he passed her a cold beer from the fridge, a smile on his face. "They keep the good shit in the fridge."

She hestitated a second, but took it, their fingers brushing briefly in the exchange. "Thanks."

Quinn grabbed himself another beer, popping it open with ease. "So," he said, leaning back against the counter again, eyes on her, "what's a girl like you doing hanging out with a bunch of hockey degenerates?"

Faye laughed, taking a sip of her drink. "Oh, I've got connections," she said, nodding toward the group of guys still crowded around the table. "I'm friend's with your brother's old teammates. You know, the up-and-comers. Met them all first year."

"Up-and-comers, huh?" Quinn smirked. "That makes me feel old."

She raised an eyebrow, her lips turning up into a teasing smile. "You are old. What are you, like 23 now? And still hanging around college parties?"

Quinn let out a low laugh. "I've still got friends here, you know," he said, lifting his beer to his lips. "Besides, I'm not that old."

"Right, you're ancient," she teased. "At least for a college party."

"I'm not out of place. I mean, I can still outdrink everyone here," he leaned in slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. "Think you can keep up?"

"I think I can handle you, Hughes."

"Yeah? I like that."

She chuckled, feeling the lightness in the air between them, the chatter of the party fading into the background as they stood in their own little party. "So, does Vancouver know they've got an alcoholic captain, or is that a secret?"

Quinn put a hand on his chest in mock offence. "Alcoholic? You're really going for it tonight, huh?" He stepped closer, his voice dropping. "Maybe I can prove you wrong."

"Maybe," Faye challenged. She wasn't sure if it was the beer or the way his gaze lingered on hers, but she felt like the whole moment could turn any second. Her usual defences of casual flirting and trying to play it cool, felt harder to maintain with Quinn standing so close.

"You're bold. I like that."

"I try."

"Guess I'll have to step up my game," Quinn said, his eyes flicking down to her lips for just a second. She would've missed it if she blinked. For a moment, neither of them said anything. Faye's pulse raced as Quinn leaned in just enough for their faces to be meer inches apart.

"So," his voice was low and teasing, "are you always this hard to impress, or is just me?"

"Maybe I'm just waiting for you to do something impressive," she tilted her head.

"Alright," he said softly like it was a dare. "Let's see if I can impress you."

Before Faye could respond, Quinn's lips were on hers. The kiss started slow and tentative, but quickly deepened as the spark between them came to life. Faye's heart was racing, her hand reaching out instinctively to steady herself, fingers brushing against his chest. All she could focus on was the heat of Quinn's mouth on hers and the way his hand gently gripped her waist, pulling her closer.

When they broke apart, her breath was short, her pulse still sky-high. Quinn's forehead leaned softly against hers. "Impressed yet?"

"Not bad, Hughes. Not bad."

She glanced around the crowded kitchen, suddenly aware of the fact that they were still in the middle of a party, surrounded by people. Feeling a rush of adrenaline, she looked back at Quinn, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"You know," she started, her tone casual but with an unmistakable undertone of suggestion, "my place is just a couple blocks from here."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Faye replied, stepping back. "If you want to... get out of here."

Quinn didn't hesitate, his eyes still locked on her. "Lead the way."

With a smile, Faye took him by the hand, pulling him gently out the back door, the party fading away as they made their way down the street.

Faye walked alongside Quinn, her hand still loosely intertwined with his as they made their way down the quiet street to her apartment. The silence between them wasn't awkward. It was comfortable, a shared anticipation hanging in the air.

Faye fumbled with her keys for a second before getting the door unlocked. She held it open for Quinn, watching as he took in the cozy studio.

"Nice place."

"Thanks," Faye replied, her casual confidence from the party now felt a bit more fragile in her apartment.

He smiled at her, the same easy grin he'd worn all night, and for a second, she wondered if he was feeling just as unsure as she was.

"So... what now?"

Faye smirked, stepping closer. "I think we left off somewhere around here."

She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss. This was one deeper, hungrier, messier than the one they shared at the party. Neither of them was holding back anymore.

Quinn's hands found a place on her waist, tugging her flush against his body. The soft sounds of their breaths and the rustle of their clothes were the only sound filling the apartment. As the kiss intensified, Faye's hands slid into his hair as he pressed her against the wall. For a moment, she broke the kiss, breathing heavily with her forehead pressed against his.

"You good?" his voice carrying a hint of concern.

She nodded as she leaned in to kiss him again. This time softer and slower, savoring the moment. "I'm good," she whispered against his lips. Quinn smiled into the kiss, and they continued to her bed, the outside world disappearing completely.

Faye lay back against her pillows, the sheets pulled loosely over her chest, her body still warm and buzzing. She glanced at Quinn, who was lying beside her, one arm slung over his eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he caught his breath, his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

There was an unspoken understanding between them. It wasn't love. It wasn't anything serious. Just two people enjoying a night that neither of them had planned.

Quinn shifted, lowering his arm and turning his head to look at her, a lazy smile on his face. "So, you impressed yet?"

Faye couldn't help but laugh. "You're really fishing for compliments, huh?" she teased, nudging him with her foot under the blankets.

"Can't blame a guy for trying." He stretched, then slowly sat up, running a hand through his messy hair.

Faye propped herself up on her elbow, watching as he reached down for his jeans. "So... what's the plan now?"

Quinn shrugged, slipping on his jeans and glancing back at her. "I should probably get going," he said, pulling his t-shirt back over his head. "Got some stuff to take care of tomorrow." He looked at her as if he was deciding to say something else or not. But he decided against it.

Faye nodded, not feeling any kind of disappointment. It was exactly what she'd expected. "Yeah, makes sense," she pulled the sheets tighter around herself. "I've got summer class work to do anyway."

There was no need for goodbyes or long explanations. It had been fun, casual, uncomplicated. Just how it was supposed to be.

Quinn finished lacing his shoes and glanced back at her. "This was... cool."

"Yeah, it was. No strings, right?"

"No strings," he echoed, moving toward the door, hesitating just for a second before opening it. "Take care of yourself, Faye."

"You too, Hughes." The door softly clicked shut behind him.

Faye lay back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, her mind clear. It had been a fun night--nothing more, nothing less.

Faye sat at the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the white stick in her hands. Two pink lines.

She blinked, her mind desperately trying to catch up with what her eyes were seeing. Two lines. Not one. Two. Her stomach churned as the realization slowly set in, sending her world into a spin.

It couldn't be real.

She stood up suddenly, dropping the test on the floor like it had burned her hands. Her hands shook, and she pressed them to her face, trying to breathe, to calm the panic that was rising in her chest. It wasn't possible. She'd been careful. Mostly.

The memory of the night with Quinn flashed through her mind, quick and very much uninvited. The way they had laughed, kissed, fallen into bed with that easy, casual energy, no strings attached. And no condom either.

That night had been something she was supposed to leave behind. But now she couldn't.

Her phone buzzed on her nightstand, filling the silence of her room. Faye glanced at it, her heart skipping a beat when she saw her mom's name on the screen.

"Hey, Mom."

"Faye, sweetie! Just checking in. How's everything going? Classes good?" Her mom's voice was warm and cheerful, completely oblivious to what was storming in her daughter's head.

"Yeah, uh, everything's fine," Faye replied, her voice cracking slightly. She cleared her throat, trying to steady herself. "Just... busy, you know. Summer classes and all that."

"Well, I'm sure you're managing fine, like always." Her mom's voice was full of pride, but it only made Faye feel worse. If she knew... if she knew about this...

"Yeah." Her eyes darted back to the test lying on her bed. Those two pink lines taunting her, screaming at her that nothing was fine. "I'm managing."

She had to tell someone. Eventually. But not now. Not yet. Not when she had barely processed it herself. How could she explain it to her parents? To her friends? Hell, how was she going to tell Quinn?

Quinn.

Her heart dropped into her stomach at the thought of telling him. She barely knew him.

Her mom's voice broke through her spiraling thoughts. "Faye? Sweetie, are you sure you're okay? You sound... off."

"Yeah, I'm fine," she lied. "Just tired. I'll call you later, okay?"

There was a brief pause, but thankfully, her mom didn't press further. "Okay, honey. Just take care of youself. And remember if you need anything--"

"I know. Thanks, Mom. I'll talk to you later."

She dropped the phone on the bed and buried her face in her hands. She felt like she was suffocating. Her breath came in shallow gasps, and she fought to calm down, to push away the fear that was eating her whole.

Why was this happening? What was she going to do? How could she do senior year with a baby on the way? How was she going to tell her parents? And Quinn... what would she even say?

She had to think clearly. Step by step. She wasn't ready to tell anyone yet--not her parents, not her friends, not Quinn. But she had to talk to him. He deserved to know. No matter what she decided, he needed to be a part of this conversation.

But how?

They hadn't exactly exchanged numbers that night. Faye knew she could probably get his contact info from Luke's friends--Ethan or Luca--but how was she supposed to ask for his question without raising questions? She didn't want anyone knowing the reason why. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Her eyes flickered to the pregnancy test on the floor, the two lines staring back at her, a reminder of the secret she was now carrying alone.

Faye tapped her fingers against her phone screen, staring at the group chat she had with some of the hockey guys she'd gotten close to over the years. She had to figure out how to word her request without making it obvious.

Hey, can I get Quinn's number? Totally normal, right?

She sighed, locking her phone and tossing it beside her. No matter how she phrased it, they'd ask questions. They'd want to know why she needed Quinn's number when she barely knew him. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to guess what was going on before she ahad the chance to figure it out herself.

There was no avoiding it. She had to talk to Quinn.

Her fingers flew over her keyboard before she could second-guess herself.

Faye: hey, does anyone have quinn's number? need to ask him something abt the canucks for a summer class project

Her heart raced as soon as she hit send, the lie hanging in the air. It wasn't a complete stretch--she was in communications, after all--but she felt a pang of guilt lying to her friends. Hopefully, they'd just let it go. No questions. No suspicion.

A few seconds later, her phone buzzed. It was Ethan.

Ethan: You need it for a project? That's kinda random, Faye. You good?

Of course he'd ask questions.

Faye: yeah, it's for a case study thing about sports teams. i figured since i knew some of you guys, i could reach out to a player i've actually met instead of just cold-calling some rando

Ethan: Makes sense, I guess. Hang on, I'll ask Lukey boy for it

At least he seemed to be buying her story now. She stared at her phone, her nerves making it feel like ages before he responded.

Ethan: Here you go. Don't tell Quinn I gave it to you for a project tho. He'll probs think it's weird lol

Followed by Quinn's number.

She copied his number and created a new contact. Staring at his name on her screen felt like she was a step closer to the edge of something terrifying and unknown. She couldn't just sit on it. She had to text him.

But what could she say? "Hey remember me? We hooked up, and oh, by the way, I'm pregnant"? It was ridiculous, but she had to start somewhere.

Faye: hey, it's faye. we met at the hockey house like a month and a half ago. can we talk?

Her heart pounded in her chest as she stared at the screen, waiting for the three little dots to appear. But they didn't. A few minutes passed. Nothing.

Maybe he was busy. Or maybe he didn't even remember her. Either way, she'd have to figure out something soon. She couldn't just not think about this. She had to handle it.

But all she could do for the time being was wait.

Quinn had just gotten back from training with Jack and Luke at a gym near their home in Michigan. All he wanted to do was crash on the couch, maybe play a round of 'chel with his brothers or scroll through his phone before taking a long nap. The grind was constant during the offseason, but he liked to be busy.

He slumped onto the couch, grabbing his phone to check if he'd missed anything during his practice session. That's when he noticed a text from a number he didn't have saved.

Faye? He had to think about it for a second before it clicked. She was an acquaintance of Luke's, someone he'd hooked up with at that party he went to at Umich. He hadn't really thought about it much since then--it had been a one-night stand. Just one night of fun.

But the way her message was phrased didn't seem like a casual "what's up" kinda text. Something about it felt off. So, he replied quickly.

Quinn: Yeah, I remember. What's up?

Faye: can we talk? it's kinda important

Important? His heart raced. She hadn't been weird that night. They'd both agreed it was just a one and done kinda deal. Maybe she needed something. Maybe it was something about Luke, or-- No, it was probably nothing.

Quinn: Sure, what's going on?

Faye: i don't really wanna do this over text. can i call you?

He sat up the straighter on the couch, his heart beating faster. This wasn't normal. Faye didn't sound like she was asking for a favour. His fingers hovered over the screen, before he typed back his response, thinking of the best wording.

Quinn: Yeah, I can talk. Gimme a sec. I'll call you

He headed up to his room, closing the door. He assumed it wasn't a conversation he wanted to have in the living room where his brothers and parents could hear. His gut told him that whatever it was, it wasn't going to be good. Maybe she had crabs or something. He tapped the call button, and after a few rings, Faye picked up.

"Hey."

"Hey." Her voice sounded different. Shaky, like she was trying to keep herself together.

"So... what's going on?" he asked, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, waiting for her to speak.

There was a long pause on the other end, and he was considering checking to see if the line had dropped.

"I... I don't really know how to say this," Faye said finally, her voice faltering. "But I'm just going to say it."

He could practically hear her breathing heavily on the other end. He waited, his nerves eating him alive.

"I'm pregnant."

For a second, he didn't move, didn't say anything. His brain was still trying to process what he'd just heard. Pregnant? Did she just say she was... no, surely he just heard wrong.

"What?" his mind was struggling to keep up. "What did you say?"

"I'm pregnant, Quinn." Her voice was steadier, though she still sounded just as scared as he felt. "And it's yours."

Quinn's thoughts raced, spinning out of control. He plus thundered in his ear, drowning out anything else she was saying. How? How could this be happening? They'd only hooked up once. They'd been... no they hadn't. Shit. Once was all it took.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Quinn? Are you still there?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm still here." His voice sounded far away, even to himself.

Pregnant?

"Are you sure?" The question slipped out before he could stop himself, and he winced as soon as the words left his mouth. Of course, she's sure.

"I took two tests, but I, uh, I'll schedule an appointment with the campus clinic. I... I just found out today."

"Holy shit," he muttered under his breath. This was... a lot. He ran his hand through his hair again, pulling at the roots. He hadn't spoken to Faye since that night. And she was pregnant? With his baby?

"Yeah."

Neither of them really knew what to say. Quinn's brain was flipping through every possible scenario. His hockey career, his family, his entire future. Everything was crashing down on him at once.

"So what now?" he finally asked.

"I don't know," Faye admitted. "I'm still processing it, honestly. I haven't told anyone yet... you're the first."

The thought of being the first person she had told, hit him harder than he could have expected. He swallowed hard, a sense of responsibility creeping in even through the shock. He might not know Faye well, but it wasn't just about him anymore.

She's pregnant with his baby. His.

"I'm keeping it... I think. Like I know this is a lot, but I'm going to keep the baby."

He knew what he had to say next, even if he didn't fully understand it yet.

"I'll be there," he said suddenly, even catching himself off guard. "I mean... I'll help however I can. I'll be there for you. For the baby."

Faye was quiet for a moment, and Quinn was worried that he'd said the wrong thing.He barely knew her. How could he promise something like that? But the thought of leaving her all alone to deal with this felt wrong. Even if they weren't together, it was his responsibility too.

"You don't have to say that. I'm not asking for anything."

"No, I mean it. I'll be there. I don't know how, but... I'll, uh, figure it out." He rubbed the back of his neck, the weight of the situation settling on his shoulders.

"I appreciate that," she replied softly. "I know this is... a lot. I didn't mean to just spring it on you like this, but I didn't really know what else to do."

"It's okay," Quinn lied. "I'm glad you told me."

There was another long pause, the air between them feeling more and more awkward. This was just the beginning of a conversation that was going to change everything for them.

"So, I guess... we'll figure this out?" Quinn said, trying to make it sound like he had some clue of what came next.

"Yeah. We figure this out."

He stared at his phone long after the call ended, his thumb still hovering over the screen like he might call her back, as if there was more he could say.

I'm pregnant. And it's yours.

He leaned back against his headboard, eyes unfocused, staring at nothing in particular. How had his life changed so quickly? One minute he was gearing up for summer training, focusing on hockey, and the next... he was going to be a father.

Father. The word made his stomach churn. He wasn't ready for that. Hell, he could barely manage taking care of himself, let alone another tiny human. How was he supposed to do this?

Nothing made sense. They hadn't spoken since that night. Just some stupid drunken hookup. He believed her when she said it was. But there was a part of him, a part of him that felt like a dick to say it, but what if it was another guy's. Was she 100% sure it was his? What if she asked for paternity test? No, that was too far. Way too far.

His phone buzzed. But it was a group text from Jack, something about dinner in a bit. He couldn't deal with that right now. He wasn't ready to face his brothers, or anyone for that matter. What would he even say. What could he even say?

Hey, guys, by the way, I just found out I'm going to be a dad.

He stood up abruptly, pacing his bedroom. What would his parents say? What would Luke say when he found out it was Faye? What about his team? Could this mess up his career? It was only his second season of captaincy. He couldn't take a break to look after a pregnant college student.

He stopped, standing in front of his dresser, his hands gripping the edge of the wood. He stared at his reflection in the mirror and he barely recognized himself. His face was pale, his hair a mess, his eyes wide with panic.

I'm going to be a dad. The thought sent a new wave of anxiety crashing over him. He didn't know the first thing about babies or fatherhood. He hadn't planned for this. He wasn't ready for this. But it didn't matter anymore. Faye was already pregnant.

Quinn's phone buzzed again, this time with a message from Faye.

thanks for taking my call. i know it was a lot. but we will figure this out

Figure it out. Easier said than done. His first instinct was to respond, to say something reassuring. But what? The words just didn't come. He didn't want to lie to her. He wasn't even sure he knew how to be the person that she needed.

He didn't respond. Unable to deal with it then. He needed time. Time to think. Time to process. Time to figure out how he was gonna make this work.

He sat back on his bed, his legs bouncing. He thought about his parents. How disappointed they'd be, how they'd probably give him the "we're here for you, but you messed up" speech. He thought about Faye, about how scared she must be, and how, despite everything, she'd told him first. Not her friends. Not her family. Him.

That alone felt like some sort of strange responsibility. She could ever kept it to herself, could have avoided telling him until much later, but she hadn't. Now he was all in. Whether he was ready or not.

Saying that he'd be there for her and the baby was easy in the moment. But now he wasn't so sure. Could he be a dad while balancing everything else in his life?

He needed to talk to someone. Jack? Luke? No, not yet. He wasn't ready for that conversation. He couldn't handle their reactions, not while he was still freaking out. His phone buzzed again, a call this time. From Jack. He didn't answer, instead placing his phone under his pillow. He let out a few long, shaky breaths.

For now, all he could do was wrap his head around it. He had made a promise to Faye, and no matter how scared he was, he couldn't back out of it now. But what came next? He had no idea.

Faye stared at the stack of textbooks on her desk, the words blurring together as she rubbed her eyes. It had only been a couple weeks since the semester had started, but she already felt like she was drowning. Her professors had no idea what she was going through, and she wasn't exactly in a rush to tell them. The fewer people that knew, the better.

She rested her hand lightly on her stomach, feeling the slight curve under her shirt. If anything it looked like she was very, slightly bloated. It wasn't very obvious. Three months. It was still early, but she could feel the changes. The nausea, the exhaustion, how she felt like napping after walking 15 minutes to class. How was she supposed to handle this? Classes, assignments, the baby? It was all too much.

Her phone buzzed on her desk with a message from Quinn.

How're you feeling? Everything good?

Quinn had been checking in regularly since she'd told him, but their conversations were brief. Surface-level. He was busy with training camp and preseason stuff in Vancouver, and she was busy trying to keep her head above water in Michigan. They lived in two differernt worlds, and no matter how many times he texted, the distance between them felt impossible to bridge.

Faye: tired. got a ton of work. but i'm good

She typed the words quickly, not wanting to burden him with how she was actually feeling. What was the point? He had his own life, his own career to focus on. Besides, she had immediate problems... like how she was going to tell her parents. They knew something was off. They'd been calling more often, asking questions, but she kept brushing them off, making excuses. She wasn't ready to face their disappointment. Not yet.

There was a knock at her door. Her friend and neighbour, Casey, peeked her head in. "Hey, you okay? You've been quiet lately."

"Yeah, just tired. I have a ton of work to do."

"You sure? You've been looking... kinda pale lately."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just stressed, Cas."

"Okay, well, I'm just down the hall if you need anything."

Faye exhaled slowly as her friend left, her fingers brushing her stomach. Soon, more people would start asking questions, and she wasn't ready with answers.

Quinn scrolled through his phone, staring at Faye's message. "tired. got a ton of work. but i'm good." He frowned, feeling the distance betwen them more and more everyday. He'd been checking in, but their conversations were always short. It wasn't enough. But how could it be when he was over 2,000 miles away?

Training camp had just started, and the pressure was already mounting. It was his second year as captain, and everyone had expectations--his coaches, his teammates, his friends, his family. There was barely time to breathe, let along figure out fatherhood.

He didn't know how to be there for Faye. Every time he texted, he just felt like he was checking off a box. He really did want to do more, but how? He was stuck there and there wasn't room for distractions.

But Faye wasn't a distraction. She was... something else.

His phone buzzed again. This time with a message from Petey.

Dinner in 10?

Quinn sighed, pushing himself off the couch. He didn't feel like going out, but avoiding his friends wasn't going to solve anything. He needed to keep his head straight. Focus. But even as he grabbed his jacket and headed out the door, his mind stayed on Faye.

The phone call from her mom came earlier than expected.

"Faye," her mom's voice was laced with concern. "Honey, are you okay? You've been so distant lately. Your dad and I are worried."

She'd been dodging this conversation for weeks, but there was no avoiding it now. Her parents knew something was wrong, and she couldn't keep hiding.

"I'm fine, Mom." Her voice cracked, and she knew her mom had picked up on it.

"You don't sound fine, sweetpea. Is something going on? School? Your health? Please talk to me."

Faye closed her eyes, there was no easy way to do this. "Mom, there's something I need to tell you."

"Okay. Go ahead."

"I'm... I'm pregnant."

The silence on the other end was deafening. Her mom didn't say anything for what felt like forever, and when she finally spoke, her voice was tight. "What? Faye, what are you talking about?"

"I'm pregnant," Faye repeated. "I just... I didn't know how to tell you."

"With who, Faye? Who's the father?"

Faye hesitated, her heart racing. "Quinn."

"Your friend Luke's brother? The hockey player?" She sounded shocked.

"Yes."

Her mom's voice hardened. "Faye, how could let this happen? How could you throw your future away like this?"

"I didn't mean for it to happen. It just... did."

"But now you're stuck," her mom snapped. "This boy has completely derailed your life. Your senior year, your future--all of it, gone! Poof! What is he going to do about it, huh? Keep playing hockey like nothing happened?"

Faye bit her lip, holding back her tears. "He's trying to help. He's... he's going to be there."

"Be there?" her mom scoffed. "How? He's in Vancouver, Faye? You think he's going to stop everything and come running every time you need him? You're fooling yourself."

"I'm handling it, Mom. I'm figuring it out."

"You shouldn't have to figure this out. He should be stepping up, Faye. You deserve better than this."

Faye couldn't say anything. Her mom was angry, but more than that, she was disappointed. And that was the worst part. No matter how much Faye wanted to believe she could handle this on her own, the reality of it was that she knew she couldn't.

The call came late that night, after Quinn had had dinner with Brock and Petey. He'd just gotten home when his phone buzzed with a call from Faye.

"I told my parents."

Quinn sat down, his heart racing. "How'd they take it?"

"They're pissed. They think you've ruined my life. My mom... she think I'm throwing my future away."

Guilt settled in Quinn's stomach. "Faye, I'm sorry. I didn't--"

"I know you didn't mean for this to happen. But I'm the one who has to deal with them. You're not here."

The words stung, even though he knew they weren't meant to hurt. Faye was right. He was in Vancouver, while she was stuck dealing with things on her own.

"I'm trying, Faye. I want to help. I just... don't know how."

"I know. But it's hard. And I'm scared."

Her voice cracked at the end and Quinn felt his heart break. He hated that she going through it all alone, but he didn't know what to do to help.

"We'll figure it out, okay?"

"Yeah."

But the words felt hollow. Like she'd given up on him being there. And Quinn knew that "figuring it out" was going to be a lot harder than either of them realized.

It was mid-term season and campus somehow seemed quieter. The October air had settled, bringing out heavier coats and the crunch of fall leaves. Faye at her desk, trying to focus on her computer, but all she could think about was how tight her jeans felt that morning.

She had switched to only wearing oversized sweaters and hoodies to hide her growing bump. The baby had started to feel more real over the last few days. Her morning sickness had faded for the most part, but now her back had a constant ache. She was falling behind on assignments, skipping study sessions, and avoiding her friends. She couldn't keep pretending everything was normal. Her mom had been encouraging her to go to student services and tell them about her situation. Apparently the school was supposed to help pregnant students and students with children.

Quinn: You okay? Haven't heard from you in four days

It wasn't that she didn't want to talk to Quinn--it was just that every time they texted, she felt like she was letting him down by not being stronger, by not being more put together. He was busy with hockey and she was trying not to let her life fall apart all the time.

Faye: yeah, just busy with school. midterms

It was mostly the truth, she was drowning in schoolwork but most of it was that her body was changing faster than she could keep up with. She'd gone up two entire bra cup sizes in a month and new ones were not cheap. But she felt like that was a weird detail to drop on Quinn. Her mom said it wasn't, since he was the father of her child, but Faye disagreed.

She felt more isolated than ever, and she felt that that feeling would just get worse the further along she was. She needed to tell her friends still and it was just a matter of time until someone noticed something was up.

Faye had been invited to the hockey house for a movie night. If she said no they'd definitely know something was up, because she never missed a movie night with the guys. Bowls of popcorn and beers were spread out across the coffee table, and the TV blasted with some shit horror movie they'd found.

Faye had a watter bottle in her hand, keeping it close to her chest, hoping nobody would notice she wasn't drinking. But she could feel their eyes on her already. It wasn't the first time she'd skipped drinking during their hangouts, but the guys didn't want her to think they were peer pressuring her.

"Hey, Faye," Dylan called out. "What's with the water? You've been off booze for weeks."

She glanced at him, then quickly at the others, who were all staring and waiting for an explanation.

"I just... haven't felt like drinking."

But Ethan shook his head, setting down his beer. "Come on, Faye. You haven't felt like drinking since the summer. That's not the Faye we know and love."

"You've been distant. Is something going on?" Mark added.

Time to come clean. She took a deep breath, setting her water bottle down on the table. "I... I need to tell you guys something."

"What is it, Faye?"

She looked down at her hands, lifting up the bottom of her sweater. Her heart pounded in her chest. "I'm pregnant."

"Wait... what?" Dylan asked, blinking in shock. "You're pregnant."

"Yeah. I'm almost four months."

"Four months? Did you get with someone at the party? Last person I saw you talking with was..."

"It's Quinn's?"

"Yeah. It's Quinn's."

"Holy shit, Faye. That's... wow."

"I know," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I didn't know how to tell you guys. I didn't want you to look at me differently."

"Faye, we're your friends. We're here to help you, support you. Not to judge you. You don't need to go through this alone."

"Thanks, guys. I, uh, I'm not fully alone. My parents know. And Quinn. He's... trying to be supportive."

"Does Luke know?"

"Not if Quinn didn't tell him. Luke and I don't really talk that much."

The looks of concern on their faces, the way they were all pitying her made her stomach hurt. She hated it. She didn't want people to be sorry for her. She just wanted everyone to act like things were normal, even thought things would never be the same.

"I need some air," she sighed, grabbing her jacket.

Luke was laying on the couch, scrolling through his phone when he saw a text from Ethan come through.

Ethan: Hey man, Faye just told the group she's pregnant. It's Quinn's apparently. Didn't know they were seeing each other ngl

Luke blinked, rereading the text a few times to make sure he read it correctly. Faye was pregnant? And Quinn was the dad? Quinn hadn't told him he was going to be a dad, let alone that he was seeing Faye.

Luke: You serious? Quinn never said anything???

Ethan: Yeah, dude. She's almost four months along. She showed us the bump. Seemed legit

Without thinking he pulled up Quinn's contact, shooting him a message.

Luke: What the hell man? Why didn't you tell me that you're seeing Faye and that she's pregnant???

Quinn’s stomach dropped as he stared at Luke’s text. His chest tightened with guilt--a guilt he had been pushing to the side for weeks. He hadn’t told Luke, hadn’t told his parents. Hell, he hadn’t even processed it himself. But the truth was out now, and the window to figure things out on his own was gone. He decided to call Luke, instead of texting about it.

"Hey."

"Hey? That's all you have to say after I just found out you're dating one of my college friends and she's pregnant?"

"We... we're not dating. We hooked up at that party the hockey guys threw. Look, I know I should've told you. I just... yeah."

"How about starting with the fucking truth?" Luke scoffed. "You haven't told you family? You can't keep that kinda shit from us."

"I know. I'm going to tell everyone. I just... had to figure shit out with Faye first."

"Next family FaceTime. You should tell everyone. Mom and Dad will help out... probably."

Luke was right. Secret was out and if he didn't tell the family soon, someone else would. He had to tell them sooner rather than later.

Quinn sat in front of his laptop, staring blankly at the screen. His family's faces were staring back at him through the familiar layout of their family FaceTime session. Jim and Ellen in one square, Jack and Luke in another. He hadn't added much to the conversation yet, just letting out a couple half-hearted laughs when someone cracked a joke.

Luke had been on his case all week. Ever since the news had been handed to Luke through his friends, Quinn had felt like his walls were closing in on him. He wondered if that's how Faye felt too.

Ellen was in the middle of asking Jack and Luke about their latest game when Quinn cleared his throat. "Hey, guys," his voice was much more strained than he'd planned. "There's something I need to tell you guys."

Jim raised an eyebrow. "What's up, Quinn?"

He had rehearsed this a hundred times in his head, but the words were stuck in his throat now that he had to say it out loud. He glanced at Luke, who just gave me a slight nod.

"I, um... I'm going to be a dad."

Ellen blinked, her smile faltering. "Wait... what?"

"I... Faye, one of Luke's friends from Umich, she's pregnant. I'm the dad."

Jack was the first to react, his eyes wide. "Holy shit, Quinn. You serious?"

"Yeah. She's almost four months."

Ellen pressed a hand to her chest. "Oh my god, Quinn. Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"I didn't know how. I've been trying to figure things out with Faye, but... it's been really hard."

"Quinn, this is big. Have you thought about how you're going to handle this and your career?" Jim asked.

"Yeah, I'm still working through it all. Faye's in Michigan and I'm here, so... I'm just trying to be supportive."

"Oh, sweetheart. We'll help however we can. I wish you would've come to us sooner. You don't have to go through this alone. And neither does Faye. We'd be more than happy to help her out."

Quinn nodded, appreciating his mom's comforting words. He hadn't figured out how he was going to balance everything--hockey, the pregnancy, his future with Faye and the baby--but at least his family knew now.

"You did the right thing, Quinn," Luke nodded.

Faye stood in front of the mirror, smoothering her hands over her flowly tank top. She had agreed to a girls' night out after they'd all finished their midterms, and she was really planning on making it through the night without raising any suspicions. Her friends, Casey and Sarah, were already getting ready, throwing clothes around her apartment and laughing.

Faye had told them she wasn't going to drink because alcohol made her stomach hurt--which wasn't technically a lie. But it also wasn't the whole truth. She was trying to pull her favourite pair of jeans on, only realizing that they didn't button up.

She stared down at the small gap between the button and the buttonhole, her hands trembling. That was it. None of her jeans fit anymore.

"Faye, you almost ready?" Sarah called from the bathroom, sticking her head out as she did her hair. "We're running late!"

"Yeah. Just... gimme a minute."

She stood there, her hands still on the waistband of her jeans. Casey walked over, her eyes scanning Faye's reflection in the mirror. "Did you like... get a boob job or something?" she asked, half-joking. "You look different."

Faye wanted to brush it off with a laugh and make up a lie, but when she glanced at her reflection all she wanted to do was cry. Her body was changing too much, everyone would notice soon.

"I, um..." she bit her lip, her hands falling from her jeans. "No, I didn't get a boob job."

Casey frowned, picking up on Faye's seriousness. "What's going on? You've been acting so weird recently."

Faye exhaled slowly, her eyes stinging with tears she'd been holding back for weeks. She turned to face Casey, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm pregnant."

Casey's eyes went wide, and Sarah, who had just stepped out of the bathroom, froze, her mouth falling open.

"You're... pregnant?"

"Yeah. Four months."

Sarah walked closer, the initial shock wearing off. "Faye, why didn't you tell us? You've been dealing with this all by yourself?"

"I'm just really tired of people seeing my differently. I wanted some normalcy."

"We're not going to look at you differently. You're our friend."

Sarah nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Faye. You're not going through this alone."

"Thank you," she whispered. "I didn't know what to say. Everything's been... changing so fast."

Sarah smiled, giving her a hug. "We're here, okay? Whatever you need."

Casey grinned, her usual humour shining through. "Besides, you look pretty damn good for a mom-to-be. I mean, your tits look fucking amazing."

Faye laughed through the tears. "Thanks, I guess. But they hurt like hell all the time."

"Now, come on. Let's go out! Even if you're not drinking, you deserve a night out."

Faye nodded, digging through her drawers to find a pair of pants that fit and went with her outfit. At least she wasn't hiding from her friends anymore.

The ticking of the clock and the rerun episode of something on HGTV filled the waiting room as Faye sat in an uncomfortable, plastic chair. Her 16-week appointment. She had been dreading this one for some reason, even though she knew it was supposed to be one of the more exciting ones.

It wasn't that she wasn't excited to hear the baby's heartbeat--she was. But there was something about all the changes she was facing that made her uneasy. She had been feeling more emotional lately, the hormones sending her on a rollercoaster ride. And her body? That was a whole other issue.

None of her pants, except for stretch-band waisted ones, fit. Her skin was breaking out like she was in high school again, and the weight gain was starting to show in more than just her belly. It was making her self-conscious in a way she'd never been before. She knew it was all part of journey, but it didn't make it any easier.

"Faye Brooks?"

The nurse's voice pulled her out of her head, and Faye stood up, wiping her sweaty palms on her leggings as she followed the woman into the exam room.

"Let's get you weighed," the nurse said cheerfully, like it was no big deal.

Faye stepped on the scale, trying to avoid looking at the number that popped up, but the nurse read it out anyway. "Looks like you've gained about eight pounds since your last appointment. That's good--right on track."

Eight pounds. Her stomach churned. She knew that gaining weight was inevitable, but hearing the actual number sucked ass. She stepped down, forcing a smile. "Right."

The nurse led her to a small room, where she lay back on the table, her shirt pulled up over her belly. The bump was more prominent, although she could probably still get away with saying she was extremely bloated. The nurse prepared the ultrasound equipment and Faye tried to calm her nerves. This was supposed to be a happy moment. She was going to hear her baby's heartbeat for the first time.

The gel toucher her skin, and she shivered. She closed her eyes, waiting for the sound, the moment that would make things even more real... if that was possible.

And then it happened.

The steady, rhythmic thump, thump, thump filled the room, and she swore her heart stopped. The baby. Her baby. It was real. She blinked back tears, unable to stop the happiness that surged through her.

"That's your baby's heartbeat. Nice and strong."

Faye smiled through the tears. For the first time in weeks, the stress of school faded away. The pimples, the weight gain, the cravings--they didn't matter. All that mattered was that her baby was healthy.

"Would you like some ultrasound photos to take home?" the nurse asked.

Faye nodded quickly. "Yes, please."

She couldn't wait to send the little black-and-white photos to Quinn. He wasn't there, and that still made her heart ache, but at least he could see the baby in the photos. She grabbed her phone as soon as the nurse handed the pictures to her.

Faye: just heard the heartbeat for the first time. sending you the photos :)

Quinn was in the middle of a film session with the team when his phone buzzed. He normally ignored texts during meetings, but when he saw it was Faye, he felt that he had to answer. He quickly checked the message, his breath catching when he saw the words: just heard the heartbeat for the first time

Attached were three ultrasound photos. His baby. He stared at them for a couple minutes, barely listening to the meeting anymore. He hadn't been there with her, but seeing the phots made everything feel a bit better.

Quinn: Wow. That's amazing, Faye! Wish I could've been there

God, he wished he could be there.

Faye left the clinic with the photos tucked in her backpack. She felt so much joy hearing her baby's heartbeat, relief that everything was going well, but also frustration with everything happening to her body.

Her cravings had gotten stranger--pickles with vanilla ice cream, enough strawberries to feed a small town, peanut butter on everything--and her emotions were all over the place. Some days, she felt like crying over nothing. Other days, she was just restless. Her sex drive had skyrocketed, which was great since she wasn't seeing anyone and Quinn was in fucking Vancouver.

It sucked. She wasn't about to start dating while pregnant, but the hormones had her feeling much more needy than she was comfortable with. She tried to push those kind of thoughts aside, but when she was laying in bed at night, she couldn't help but wish Quinn was there with her.

That night, she stood in front of her bathroom mirror, staring at herself. She tugged at her shirt, trying to flatten it over her belly, sucking in as much as she could. But even when she sucked in, she wasn't as thin as she was pre-pregnancy. Her skin was breaking out, a cluster of pimples along her hairline and on her chin. Her hips were wider, her thighs thicker, and her favourite clothes didn't fit the way they used to.

She felt... ugly.

Her phone buzzed on the counter. It was a reply from Quinn. He'd asked for a 'bump-date.'

Quinn: You look beautiful. I know this is hard, but you're amazing. Can't wait to meet our baby

Quinn always knew how to say the right thing, but it didn't make the insecurities go away. She was grateful for his support, but it wasn't enough to make her feel better about the changes happening to her body. She was supposed to feel strong and capable, but she felt was out of control.

She sighed, placing a hand on her bump. "We've got a long way to go," she whispered to the baby. "But I'm doing this for you."

Faye sat at the back of the lecture hall, her arms folded over her stomach. It was the same spot she always sat in, tucked away in the corner where fewer people could see her. But even when she tried to disappear, she couldn't shake the feeling that everyone was staring at her.

With her belly starting to show more and more, and her face breaking out into what felt like a million pimples, she felt like a different person. She no longer looked like herself. Every time she caught her reflection in a window or glanced down at her swollen feet, she wondered where the old Faye had gone. The Faye that felt comfortable wearing the shortest mini skirt and tank top to a party.

She tugged at the hem of her Wolverines hoodie, trying to cover her stomach more. People were definitely noticing. She could feel their eyes on her when she walked through campus, feel their whispers following her as she sat down in class or waited in line at the coffee shop.

It wasn't just that she was pregnant. It was that she was pregnant, in college, and very much not in a relationship. Every time she passed a group of students, she imagined what they were thinking. Is she a single mom? Did the dad ditch her? What's her story? She hated it.

By the time class ended, Faye felt like she was suffocating. She gathered her things quickly, keeping her head down as she hurried out of the lecture hall. She was halfway home when her phone buzzed.

Sarah: girls night at my place tonight! you in?

Normally, she loved hanging out with her girlfriends, but lately, she'd been so tired, so emotional, that the idea of socializing just felt exhausting. But she also didn't want to push her friends away. They were one of the few things keeping her grounded.

Faye: yeah, i'll come by

At least she had friends. They didn't look at her with pity or judgement--at least, not in the way that she imagined other people did. They just supported her. And that's all she needed.

Sarah's apartment was warm and inviting, the smell of freshly baked cookies filling the air as Faye stepped inside. She shrugged off her coat, glancing at her friends already lounging on the couch with wine glasses in hand.

"Hey, girl!" Casey waved her over. "We saved you a seat!"

Faye smiled, making her way to the couch. She was grateful for the normalcy her friends provided. She sat down, tucking her legs under herself, and reached for the glass of water Sarah had already set out for her. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to her.

"So," Sarah smiled. "Tell us what's new. How're you feeling?"

She wasn't sure how honest she wanted to be? How was she feeling? She felt like shit. Her body wasn't her own anymore between all her side effects, but she didn't want to bring the mood down.

"I'm... okay. Tired. Hungry all the time. You know, the usual."

Casey raised an eyebrow. "Girl, you've been looking tired. No offence, but your skin's been freaking out lately. Did you change your skincare routine or something?"

Faye bit her lip, trying to push her self-conscious thoughts aside. "Yeah, it's the hormones. I can't seem to keep up."

"That sucks, but you still look amazing."

She was trying to stay positive, but the truth was, she'd never felt more disconnected from herself. This wasn't her. The Faye she knew wasn't tired, overly emotional, or super uncomfortable in her own body. And the worst part? She had no idea when--or if--she's ever feel like herself again.

Quinn stared at the ultrasound photos on his phone again, a grin tugging at his lips. He had saved the images Faye had sent him and found himself looking at them whenever he had a quiet moment.

The baby. His baby. It still felt surreal at times, but whenever he looked at the black-and-white photos, a wave of excitement washed over him. This was real. The tiny little being in those pictures was growing inside Faye, and even thousands of miles away, he felt connected to it.

He scrolled through the photos one more time before pulling up the family group chat. He hesitated for a second, then decided it was time. His family had been asking about the baby since he told them, and now he actually had something to share.

Quinn: Hey guys, just got some ultrasound pics from Faye. Meet baby Hughes :)

He attached the photos and leaned back on the couch, waiting for the answers to come through. And it didn't take long.

Jack: Holy shit! That's so cool!

Mom: Oh, Quinn, that's amazing! Look at that little face! I can't wait to meet them

Dad: Proud of you, Quinn. Keep us updated

Warmth spread through Quinn's chest as he read their responses. Even though he wasn't physically with Faye, sharing those moments with his parents made him feel like he was more of a part of the journey. It made him feel less alone.

He sent Faye a quick text.

Quinn: Shared the ultrasounds pics with the fam. They're all super excited. How're you feeling?

He knew she was struggling, but every time he asked, she shrugged him off. He was trying his best. He was falling more in love with the idea of being a dad every day. He still had to figure out how to be there for Faye though.

Faye: i'm... okay. just feeling kind of off ngl. don't really feel like myself anymore

Quinn: I get it. But you're doing amazing, Faye. You're strong, even if you don't feel like it. Wish I could be there

She appreciated the support, but right now, no amount of reassurance was going to make her feel like herself again.

It was late, and Faye was curled up on the couch, flipping absentmindedly though a textbook she wasn't really planning on reading. She felt like she hadn't had a moment to relax recently. She sighed, shifting uncomfortably. He back had been aching all day, and felt an unfamiliar tightness in her lower belly.

She placed a hand on her stomach, furrowing her brow. The sensation wasn't painful exactly, but it felt... strange. A dull pressure that came in waves. She tried to brush it off, assuming it was just another pregnancy symptom she wasn't familiar with. But the tightness came again, stronger this time, making her sit up straight.

Something didn't feel right.

The pressure intensified again, her belly growing hard under her hand. Panic surged through her. This wasn't normal. It couldn't be normal. Was she going into labour? The baby wasn't due for months--she was only 20 weeks along.

Another wave of tightness hit her, and this time it was even more painful. She grabbed her phone, hands trembling as she dialed Quinn's number.

Quinn was getting ready for bed when his phone rang. When he glanced down and saw Faye's name, his heart skipped a beat. It was late where she was, and they hadn't planned on talking that night.

"Faye? What's going on?"

"I- I don't know," her voice was shaky and strained. "Something's wrong. I keep feeling this pressure in my stomach... I don't know what's happening, Quinn. What if the baby's coming too early?"

"What? Are you sure? How bad is it?"

"I don't know!" she cried, her panic rising. "I've never been pregnant before. What if something's wrong?"

Quinn's mind immediately went into overdrive. He wanted to be calm for her, but the fear that something was wrong with the baby made his pulse pound in his head. He needed to be there. He needed to help.

"Okay, okay, listen. You need to get to the hosptial. I'll book the next flight out."

"But Quinn, it's so far away--"

"I'm coming. I'll be there as soon as I can. Go to the hospital and let them check you out. Everything's going to be okay." He hoped his words sounded more confident than he felt.

"Okay. I'll call you when I get there."

"Text me as soon as you're on your way. I'll be there as soon as I can."

He hung up and immediately pulled up flight options on his phone. He mind was racing, fear settling deep in his gut. What if something was wrong with the baby? What if Faye was going into premature labour?

He fired off a text to his coach, explaining the situation. Within minutes he had a response telling him to go to Michigan. That they'd be fine if he missed two days of practice for his baby.

The hospital smelled sterile, and Faye felt her nerves buzzing as she sat on the exam table. Her hands were clenched in her lap and every slight tightening of her belly made her wince.

She had texted Quinn when she had arrived and he was already on his way to the airport. Finally, the door opened, and the doctor entered the room, offering her a calm smile.

"Faye, hi. I hear you've been experiencing some discomfort," the doctor said as she sat down beside her, pulling on a pair of gloves.

"Yeah. I've been having these weird contractions or something. I don't know. I'm only 20 weeks..."

"Let's take a look."

As the doctor examined her, her breath came in short, shallow bursts, her nerves eating her alive. But after a few moments, the doctor straightened up, her smile reassuring.

"It looks like you're experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions. They're often called 'practice contractions.' They're not harmful, and it doesn't mean you're going into labour."

"So... I'm okay? The baby's okay?"

"Yes! Everything looks normal. It's common to experience these at some point in your pregnancy. It can be uncomfortable, but it's nothing to worry about."

Faye let out a shaky laugh. "Oh my god... I thought I was going into labour."

The doctor chuckled. "No, not at all. Just keep an eye on things, but everything's perfectly fine."

As soon as the doctor left, Faye texted Quinn.

Faye: false alarm. it's just braxton hicks. baby's okay. everything's okay

Quinn's flight landed early the next morning, and as soon as he stepped off, he checked to see if Faye had texted. Relief flooded his chest, but even knowing things were okay, he still needed to see her. When she opened the door, she looked exhausted. Her eyes were puffy from lack of sleep, and her hair was pulled back into a messy bun. Quinn didn't care. He pulled her into a hug, feeling the tension leave his body the second he held her.

"I was so scared," he admitted.

"Me too," Faye whispered, clinging to him. "I thought something was really wrong."

Quinn pulled back slightly, looking down at her. "I'm glad everything's okay. I'm staying for a couple days, just to make sure you're good."

Faye hesitated, then nodded, too tired to argue. "Okay. That... that would be nice."

Quinn sat on Faye's couch, a cup of coffee in his hand, while Faye lay stretched out beside him, her head resting on a pillow. She still looked exhausted, her body worn out from stress and the Braxton Hicks scare.

"How are you feeling now?"

Faye shrugged, resting a hand on her belly. "Better, I guess. I still feel... off. But the doctor said it was normal. It just freaked me out."

Quinn nodded, then hesitated before reaching out. "Can I...?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

Quinn placed his hand gently on her stomach. It was the first time he'd touched her bump, and the feeling of life growing beneath his hand hit him like a ton of bricks. He swallowed hard, his throat tightening with emotion.

"That's... our baby."

Faye smiled weakly, "Yeah, our baby."

Quinn's phone buzzed with a text from his mom.

Mom: Heard what happened. We're so relieved everything's okay. If Faye needs anything, let her know I'm here, okay? She's family now.

Quinn smiled, showing the message to Faye. "Mom wants to help you out. She's pretty excited to be a grandma."

"I appreciate that. Your mom's always been so nice."

"She means it," Quinn said. "And so do I. You're not doing this alone."

"I know."

It had been two days since the scare, and while Faye had physically recovered, the emotional exhaustion hadn't lifted. Having Quinn around helped, though. It was strange at first, seeing him so much more than usual, but also comfortable. He wasn't hovering, like a helicopter parent, but he was there, offering a helping hand

She wasn't sleeping well, though. Not anymore.

At 20 weeks, she'd finally hit the point where it was becoming increasingly difficult to sleep. It didn't help that her back constantly ached and her hips throbbed with every moment. Lying flat on her back made the pain worse, but when she shifted onto her side, it was like her belly was pulling her down, straining her already sore muscles.

Late at night, Faye lay awake in bed, shifting restlessly. Her body screamed for relief, but no matter how she positioned herself, the ache in her body wouldn't go away. She tried hugging a pillow like she'd seen online, but it didn't help. She was surprised she hadn't woken up Quinn with her constant tossing and turning, the rustling of her bedding.

Quinn had insisted on sleeping on the couch to give her space, but when the pain became unbearable, Faye found herself padding softly to the couch. She stood there a moment, watching him sleep, unsure whether she should wake him. But the dull ache made her decision for her.

"Quinn?" she whispered, nudging his shoulder. "I... I can't sleep."

Quinn blinked awake, his face full of concern as he sat up. "What's wrong?"

"I just... I can't get comfortable," she admitted, her hand resting protectively on her belly. "My back is killing me."

"How can I help?" his voice was deep with sleep.

"Come lay in bed with me?"

"Okay," he pushed himself up, following her over to the bed. Faye lay down beside him, curling onto her side, and after a second Quinn's arm came over her stomach. She closed her eyes, letting out a soft sigh of relief as his hand helped her prop her stomach in a more comfortable position. His touch grounded her in a way that felt... right. She shifted slightly, nestling deeper into the curve of his body, and for the first time that night, she felt like she could sleep.

"That better?" he murmured.

Faye nodded slightly. "Yeah. Thank you."

As she drifted to sleep, she realized how much she needed this--needed him. She wasn't used to relying on people, but with Quinn, it didn't make her feel weak. It just felt... safe.

In the morning, Quinn was already awake when she opened her eyes. His arm was casually draped over her, and Faye's cheeks flushed as she remembered how she practically crawled onto him in the middle of the night.

"Morning. How're you feeling?"

"Better," she replied. Her back still ached, but he pain wasn't as intense as it had been when she was trying to sleep. "I think you might've saved me last night."

"Glad to be of service."

She sat up slowly, stretching her sore muscles as she glanced to the textbooks scattered around the place. Finals were creeping up on her, and while she'd tried to keep up with classes, the pregnancy was making it hard. Her professors and the school were understanding, but she still felt the pressure to stay on top of things.

"Do you need help studying? I've got time," he suggested, following her gaze.

"You? Studying?"

"Hey," he shot back playfully. "I wasn't a complete slacker in school, you know."

"I wouldn't mind the company."

They spent the next few hours at her small dining table, Quinn helping her go over some notes for upcoming exams. It felt strangely normal, having Quinn sitting beside her, scribbling down notes on things she missed, cracking jokes to lighten the mood.

Faye let herself imagine what it would be like if things were different. If Quinn lived closer, if they were a couple, if they were navigating this together in a real, committed way. But she quickly pushed the thought aside. It was too much to think about.

"Do you ever think about the future?" she asked suddenly.

"Yeah. I think about it a lot."

"And?"

"And..." Quinn's gaze dropped to her stomach before meeting her eyes again. "I think about how I want to be there. For you. For the baby. I know it's complicated, but... I'm in this with you, Faye."

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

That night, Faye lay in bed, Quinn next to her already this time. She needed rest, but her body was only sort of cooperating. Quinn groaned slightly, having trouble falling asleep with all her tossing and turning.

"You okay?"

"No. I can't fall asleep."

He pulled her closer to his chest, nuzzling his face in her neck. "Better?"

"A bit."

She turned over, resting her head on his chest, closing her eyes.

"Better?"

"Thanks," she whispered, her breath warmth against his skin.

Faye could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her mind spinning from the physical relief but also the chemistry she was sure was between them.

And then, in the heat of the moment, their lips met. Faye's heart raced as his tongue swiped across her bottom lip, her body responding to the need she'd been ignoring for weeks. She pulled back, her breathing uneven.

"It's the hormones."

But Quinn just smiled, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I know. But if you need me... I'm here."

She blushed but still laughed at his flirting. Then tension between them was electric, and she leaned up for another kiss. Quinn rested his hand on her belly, pulling away when he felt something.

"It moved."

"What?" she whispered, not liking that he'd ended their make out session.

"The baby, I felt it. It was like a little flutter. Did you feel it?"

"I wasn't really paying atten--"

Then she felt it, the strangest feeling yet. Just like Quinn had said, like a little flutter.

"Oh my god. It's moving!" she laughed, cupping Quinn's face. "Our baby is moving!"

Quinn leaned in, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips. Resting his forehead on hers as they pulled away.

"That's... that's so fucking cool, Faye! That's our baby!"

"I know, Quinn," she giggled, but as excited as she was, exhaustion was starting to take over.

"Do you want me to move my hand?" Quinn asked.

"No. It's fine there," she mumbled, falling asleep while Quinn sat there and waited for the baby to move again. He was even more in love with the baby and it wasn't even there yet.

It was Quinn's last day in Michigan, and Faye didn't like the heaviness that settled in her chest at the idea. She knew he had to go back to Vancouver. It was his job after all, but after everything that had happened, having him around felt comforting. He made everything seem a little less overwhelming.

To make the most of their last day, they decided to keep things light, indulging in Faye's latest pregnancy cravings. Currently, they were at her small dining table, staring at an odd combination of food.

"Are you seriously going to eat that?" Quinn asked, eyeing Faye as she spread peanut butter over a pickle.

"Trust me, it's so good," she insisted, though she had to admit it seemed strange. "It's the pregnancy."

"Well, I'm in. I promised I'd try all your cravings today, so let's see what this tastes like."

Faye handed him half the pickle, watching with amusement as he hesitated before taking a bite. His face twisted in confusion, then something more like... surprise.

"Okay... that's not as bad as I thought."

They spent the next hour going through her line up of food combinations--pickles in vanilla ice cream, hot sauce on a piece of white toast, avocado and chocolate, babybel cheese with whipped cream, lots and lots of orange soda. Each bite brought laughter and more jokes from Quinn, and Faye feeling better about her stupidity.

After, they sprawled out on the couch, stuffed from their culinary adventure. Quinn pulled out his phone, opening an app he'd downloaded to track the baby's development. "So, I was reading about what's going on with the baby at 20 weeks," he said, scrolling through the information.

"What does it say?" she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Apparently the baby's about the size of a banana now. That's... actually kinda big."

"A banana?" She placed her hand on her stomach. "Wow."

Quinn grinned, scrolling further down on the app. "It can hear things now too. Like they can hear your voice when you talk or when music is playing."

Faye smiled, imagining the little banana-sized baby growing inside her. She felt more connected with the baby every time she learned a new fact, but also much more anxious about the future.

As if reading her mind, Quinn set down his phone and said, "I ordered you something, by the way. It should be here tomorrow."

"You ordered something for me?"

"Yeah, I've been reading about pregnancy pillows. I figured it might help with the sleeping problems you've been having."

"You didn't have to do that."

"I know," he smiled softly. "But I want to help however I can. Even when I'm not here. I hate that you've been struggling with getting to sleep."

Quinn had been supportive than she ever imagined, and while they hadn't had a serious conversation about the future, moments together like that made her feel like things would be okay.

They decided to end the day with a movie, cuddled up on the sofa. Faye was wrapped in a blanket, her head resting on Quinn's chest. It was peaceful, but just as she was getting comfortable, her phone rang.

"It's my mom," she murmured, sitting up.

"You want to answer it?"

Faye nodded, then slid off the couch and headed to the bathroom for some privacy. "Hey, Mom."

"Faye, sweetpea! How're you feeling? You've been awfully quiet lately."

"I'm okay. Just... busy with school and stuff."

"Well, your dad and I were talking, and we think you should move back home once the baby's born," her mom said. "It'll be better for you to have support--proper support."

She knew what her mom was getting at. "Mom, I'm fine. I can manage on my own."

"Faye, be realistic," she snapped. "You're going to be a single mother. It's hard enough raising a baby when you have help, but you'll be alone most of the time. And if you think Quinn's going to be around for the sleepless night and dirty diapers, then you're being delusional."

"That's not fair. Quinn wants to help."

"He might think he does now, but once the baby is here, he's going to be focused on his career, on hockey. You'll be left doing everything on your own. You should come home, where we can help you."

"I'm not moving back home, Mom! I've got everything under control."

"You're not thinking clearly, Faye! You're being stubborn, and it's going to cost you. You need to think about what's best for the baby."

"I am thinking about the baby," Faye fought back her tears.

"Then why won't you listen to us?"

"Because I don't want to move back home! I can handle this on my own! And Quinn's not going to just disappear, okay? He's been helping me, and he's going to be there."

Her mom sighed heavily. "I hope you're right. I don't want you getting your hopes up, Faye."

Faye ended the call abruptly, feeling her entire body tremble as she leaned against the counter, sobbing quietly.

Quinn had heard bits and pieces of the conversation from the couch, but when he saw Faye's face, he immediately stood up and rushed over to her.

"Hey, hey," he murmured, pulling her into his arms. "What happened?"

Faye sobbed into his chest, her words coming out in gasps. "My mom... She thinks I should move back home. She thinks... She thinks you're not going... to be around."

"What? Why would she think that?"

"She... she thinks you're just going to focus on hockey, and I'll be stuck all alone. She doesn't believe you'll actually be here."

Quinn felt a surge of anger rise in his chest, not at Faye's mom, but at anyone who would think he wouldn't be involved. He cupped her face, wiping away her tears. "Faye, listen to me. I'm not going anywhere. I'm in this with you. We're going to figure this out together."

Faye sniffed, "What if... What if my mom's right? What if this gets too hard, and you--"

"It won't. Yeah, it's going to be hard, but I'm not going to walk away. I care about you, and I care about our baby. I'm going to be here for you both of you. No matter what. Okay?"

"I'm scared."

"I know. But we'll figure it out. We're a team, Faye."

Maybe, just maybe, they'd figure this out together.

The snow was falling softly outside the Hughes' house, making everything look like a scene out of a Christmas movie. Faye stood by the window, watching the flakes settle on the ground, her hands on her ever growing stomach. It was strange being there surrounded by Quinn's family. Strange but... comforting.

She was 24 weeks along, her belly undeniably visible, and the baby had started kicking more regularly, constantly reminding her it was there. Her back ached 24/7 now and she slept most of the day, but she was still trying to enjoy her holiday break.

"Everything okay?" Quinn's voice came from behind her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Yeah. It's just... nice here. Your family is so kind. I still can't believe they invited me to stay for a few days."

Quinn chuckled, "Of course they did. You're part of the family now, Faye. Besides, my mom's been looking forward to spoiling you and the baby for weeks."

Ellen Hughes had gone out of her way to make her feel welcome, treating like she was already part of the family. And was overwhelmed as she felt, the whole thing made her feel less alone.

Later that evening, Faye sat on Hughes' couch, enjoying the warmth of the fire place, when Ellen came in and placed a large, beautifully wrapped, present in front of her.

"These are just a few things we thought might help," Ellen said, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "I know you've probably already started planning, but every little bit helps, right?"

Faye blinked, holding back her tears as she unwrapped the box. Inside was a collection of things she hadn't even thought about yet. There was a breast pump, a coupld sets of baby clothes, a few board books, and even a set of parenting books. One for her and one for Quinn.

"Oh my god, Ellen," her voice wavered as she ran her fingers over the small onesie. "This is so thoughtful. Thank you."

"It was mostly my mom," Quin grinned. "But I helped."

Ellen waved a hand dismissively. "Quinn picked out a few things. The parenting books were his idea."

The fact that he had been thinking about this--about them, about the baby--made her feel even more connected to him. Quinn was clearly committed to figuring things out.

"Thank you, Quinn. I mean it," she whispered.

Quinn reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We're in this together, Faye. You and me."

Faye was exhausted from socializing, so she and Quinn retreated to his childhood bedroom. It felt cozy and nostalgic, with posters of old hockey heroes still hanging on the walls and a few trophies lined his dresser.

"So this is where the great Quinn Hughes spent his teenage years, huh?" she teased.

"Yeah, it's nothing fancy. But it's home."

Faye lay on her back, immediately feeling the stretch of her belly above her. "It's nice. Being here with you. I wasn't sure how'd I feel, but... I like it."

Quinn lay down beside her, propping himself up on his elbow. "I'm glad you're here. It feels right."

They spent an hour talking about the baby, about names they hadn't settled on yet, and how crazy it was that in just a few more months, they would be parents. As the conversation quieted down, Quinn placed his hand gently on her stomach, his face lighting up when he felt a kick under it.

"Hey, there's my little buddy," he whispered, voice full of wonder. "You're getting strong in there."

Faye smiled, her heart swelling at the way Quinn talked to the baby. She placed her hands over his, enjoying the warmth. "The baby likes you."

Quinn leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her belly. "I like the baby too."

It was late by the time they finally turned off the lights, but Faye found herself still wide awake. She shifted slightly, trying to find a comfortable position without her pregnancy pillow. Sighing softly, she turned to face Quinn, who was lying beside her, his eyes closed but not quite asleep. "I can't get comfortable."

"How can I help?"

"Pillows and cuddles?"

"I can do that," he handed her an extra pillow from the floor, allowing her to stick it under her stomach. "Better?"

"A lot," she sighed.

Quinn gripped her jaw, turning her face towards him. He pressed his lips to her, a strong, quiet kiss. They'd shared kisses before, but this one felt more intimate, more real.

"I'm glad I'm here."

"Me too."

It was nearing the end of January, and Michigan was wrapped in a thick blanket of snow. Faye sat cross-legged on the couch under a heavy knit blanket. The baby's kicks were getting stronger, whenever she placed her hand on her stomach she could feel it responding to her touch.

She was 28 weeks, officially in her third trimester. The reality of everything was hitting hard. It wasn't just the growing bump, the constant back pain, or the shortness of breath. Now, the emotional weight of it all was settling in, and the need to start planning for the birth was unavoidable.

Faye glanced down at the notebook in her lap, where she'd started to write out ideas for her birth plan. It felt weird, putting pen to paper and trying to map out how it would all go. Of course, she couldn't fully predict how things would play out, but the idea of having a plan eased her worries,

Her phone beside her buzzed, and she smiled when she noticed it was Quinn texting her. They talked almost every day now, and she felt like a school girl with a crush every time he texted or called.

Quinn: You free for a FaceTime? Been thinking about some stuff we should figure out

Faye: yeah, call me!

Seconds later, her phone rang and Quinn's face filled her screen. His hair was damp, probably from a post-practice shower, and he was smiling brightly.

"Hey, how're you feeling?"

"Tired. The baby's getting bigger and I swear I feel every, single kick these days."

Quinn laughed. "Strong kid. Probably gonna play hockey."

"We'll see about that," she rolled her eyes, looking back at her notebook.

"So, I was thinking... We should probably start to make some real decisions here. Like about the birth and everything that comes after."

Faye nodded, "Yeah, I've been thinking about that too. I kinda started writing out my birth plan, but it's a rough, rough draft."

"Yeah? What kinda things are you drafting?"

"Well, I want to have the baby here in Michigan. I've already talked to my doctor about it, and she's amazing. I don't want to risk flying anywhere when I'm that close to my due date."

"Good call. I'll come as soon as I can. Make sure I'm there for baby's due date."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that too. I know you'll have to travel for games, but I want you here as much as possible."

"I will be. I'll talk to the team, make sure I'm there whenever you need."

"Okay, so after the baby's born..." Faye trailed off, trying to put her thoughts into words. "I don't think I should fly to Vancouver right away. I'll need time to recover and moving across the country with a newborn... it just seems like too much."

Quinn nodded, "Makes sense. I don't want you to have to deal with that stress right after giving birth."

"So, I'm thinking I'll stay here in Michigan for the first few months. Maybe two or three? My parents will stop by and help, and you can come visit when you can."

Quinn's face dropped at the mention of her staying in Michigan. "I hate that we won't be in the same place right after the baby's born. But... I get it. It's the best plan for now."

"I know," she mumbled, her heartbreaking. She also hated the idea of being apart from Quinn for those couple months, but she knew it was necessary. "I just want to give the baby a stable place before we have to move all our shit to Vancouver."

"Absolutely. And I'll come to Michigan as much as I can. And then, when you're ready, you'll move to Vancouver. You... you can move in here with me or... we can get you your own place."

It wasn't something they'd discussed in detail yet, but Faye's heart fluttered at the thought of sharing a place with Quinn. The thought of building a life together with their baby, filled her with a lot of hope for the future.

"Okay, sounds like a plan."

"I've been looking into baby gear. Cribs, strollers, cars seats, all the works. We'll need to figure out what we need in Michigan and what we need in Vancouver."

"Yeah, I've been looking into childcare options for when we move to Vancouver. I still want to finish my degree online. It'll be a lot."

"It will be, but we're in this together. You're not doing it alone, Faye."

"Thanks, Quinn."

"Also, I think we should make a list of names. It'll help."

She giggled, "You've really been thinking about this, huh?"

"Yeah. This baby's gonna need the best name ever. No pressure."

"Alright, let's do it. Let's make a list."

Faye groaned, rolling over to look at the clock for the thousandth time that night. 2:47 AM. She was exhausted, but her body refused to cooperate. The baby liked to be active as soon as she was ready to rest. Which made it impossible to get comfortable and sleep.

Not that comfortable really existed anymore. She felt huge, like she had an oversized balloon under her shirt at all times. The baby had officially taken over. Every breath she took was shallow, and her bladder felt like it was the size of a peanut. She had to pee all the time. Every time she'd get settled, she'd have to get right back and waddle back to the bathroom.

With a groan, she pulled herself out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom yet again. She'd lost count of how many times she'd made that trip in the last hour alone. The baby pressed on every single one of her organs.

"I swear, if you keep pushing on my bladder, you're grounded for life."

The baby gave a strong kick in response, making her wince and laugh at the same time. It was like they already had the same sense of humour.

After what felt like an eternity of pissing, Faye made it back to bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. She drifted in and out of fitful sleep, and then the dreams started.

Faye's dreams had always been weird, but lately, her pregnancy was putting them on a whole new level. Vivid and bizzare, often leaving her very confused when she woke up. This dream, though, took the fucking cake.

In her dream, she was in the hospital, ready to give birth. Everything seemed fine at first--the doctors were calm, Quinn was there, holding her hand. But when the baby finally arrived, Faye's eyes widened in horror.

It had tentacles.

It wasn't a normal, chubby-cheeked newborn. No, this baby was some kind of squid creature, with wriggling, slimy tentacles where it should have had arms and legs. And instead of crying, it made this weird gurgling sound like it was trying to communicate to aliens.

Faye had stared at it in utter shock, unable to process what she was seeing. Meanwhile, Quinn was completely unfazed. He smiled down at the baby-squid hybrid like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Isn't it cute?" Quinn had said, his voice filled with pride. "Look at all those tentacles."

Faye woke up, her heart racing. She blinked in the darkness, trying to shake off the unease from the dream. 3:30 AM. No way she was getting back to sleep after that. She grabbed her phone, texting Quinn.

Faye: u awake?

Quinn: Yeah, what's up?

Faye: had the weirdest fucking dream. call me

"Hey? You okay? What happened?"

Faye bit her lip, trying to keep from laughing as she thought about the dream. "I had a dream that the baby came out... but it had tentacles instead of arms and legs."

Quinn was silent for a moment before bursting into laughter. "Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah! It was like the baby was a squid or something. And you were completely fine with it. You were holding it like 'Look how cute it is!'"

"Well, I mean, if our baby has tentacles, we'll figure it out, right? It'll be the cutest squid baby, ever."

"I'm blaming pregnancy hormones for that one. These dreams have been getting weirddd."

"I've read about that. Strange dreams are super common in the third trimester. So... get ready for more squid babies."

"Great. Just what I needed. As if peeing every five minutes and feeling like a human punching bag wasn't enough."

"How are you feel otherwise?" Quinn asked. "I know this trimester has been harder."

"Honestly? I didn't think it could get worse, and then... it did. I can't breathe half the time because the baby is squishing my lungs, and I'm always tired but I can't sleep. The baby decides to have a fucking dance party every time I lie down."

"Sorry, Faye. Wish I could help."

"I know. It's not your fault, Quinn. Every week I feel like something new pops up to remind me how massive I am."

"Baby's gonna be here soon. And the sleepless nights will be for a different reason," he offered.

"Great," Faye said sarcastically. "Something to look forward to."

31-weeks. 9 more weeks until their baby would be there. The days were flying by, and with each passing week, she got more and more anxious. Quinn wanted to be at the appointment with her, but he was busy doing hockey stuff. They were doing their best to navigate long-distance pregnancy, something she never thought she'd have to do.

Her OB entered the room with a smile. "How're you feelin' today, Faye?"

"I'm always tired, but good. Baby's active, which is probably a good sign."

"That's great to hear. We're mainly looking for the baby's position, measuring your uterus, and making sure everything is progressing as it should."

Faye nodded, trying to relax as the doctor took her measurements. She watched the doctor gently press along her stomach, feeling for the baby's position. The cold jelly made her shiver slightly, but she was more focused on the doctor's facial expressions.

"Looks like your little one is head down, which is exactly what we want to see. No signs of breech, which is good news."

"That's a relief."

"Things are looking good, Faye! And just to double-check you still want to keep the gender a surprise?"

"Yeah, Quinn and I talked about it, we both want to wait until the birth to find out."

"That takes some serious patience. But it'll be a great surprise when the time comes."

After the checkup, Faye called Quinn. He always wanted to be filled in on what was going on after appointments.

"Hey, Faye! How'd it go?"

"It went well! Baby's head down, which means no breech. Everything is looking good."

"That's awesome. I was worried about that."

"I know you were. But they're in the right position. Doctor said everything is on track, and we're still in good shape for a natural delivery."

"And the gender? They didn't slip up?"

Faye shook her head with a laugh. "Nope, still a mystery. Doctor asked, but I said we're stickin' with our plan."

"As much as I want to know, I think the wait will be worth it."

"Same. But it's getting harder to wait," she admitted, climbing into her car. "I keep imaging what they'll look like. If they'll have your eyes or my nose."

"Well, if they come out with tentacles, we're prepared."

"Let's hope not," she groaned.

"You're doing amazing, Faye. We're almost there."

"Almost there."

The day had finally come and Quinn was back in Michigan, standing in Faye's apartment, helping her settle down for the final countdown. 1 week until her due date. Faye had been anticipating this moment for months, but now that it was there, all she could think about were the things they needed to get done before the baby arrived.

It didn't matter that she'd already gone through every room, tidied the apartment, and organized all the baby gear. The urge to keep preparing, making sure everything was perfect, was strong.

"Hey, how's everything going?" Quinn asked, dropping his bags on the ground.

Faye barely heard him. "We need to get the crib set up today," she blurted out. "And I need to reorganize the dresser-- I don't think I folded all the clothes properly. Oh, and we need to clear space in the freezer for breast milk."

Quinn looked at her with an amused smirk. "You know the baby isn't coming today, right? We've got time."

"Time?" Faye repeated, staring at him like he'd grown a second head. "We have less than a week, Quinn. What if the baby comes early and something isn't ready?"

He laughed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Okay, okay. Let's do whatever you need. Where do we start?"

Faye was in nesting mode. She had Quinn building the crib, while she sorted through the baby clothes for the tenth time. Everything needed to be perfect.

"Do you think I should organize them by size or typer?" she asked from the floor, surrounded by baby clothes. "Or maybe I should put the newborn ones on top. But then again, I don't know how fast the baby is going to grow."

Quinn glanced over from where he was screwing the last part of the crib on. "I think whatever you decide will be great."

Faye huffed. "You're just saying that. What if I mess this up? What if we're totally unprepared for when the baby gets here?"

"Faye, we're ready. The baby's not going to care if it's socks are in the wrong drawer. You've done so much already."

"I want everything to be perfect, Quinn."

"It will be perfect. You're not doing this on your own."

"I know. Thank you for being here."

"I'd rather be here than anywhere else," he leaned down and kissed her temple. "What's next on the list, boss?"

Faye stood in the middle of the room, staring at the crib. It was freshly made, ready for the baby with nothing that cause any dangers while it slept. It should've given her a sense of peace, but instead she was still freaking out.

"We have the crib," she gnawed at her bottom lip. "But... we also have the bassinet."

Her eyes darted between the two pieces of furniture.

"Why do we need both?" she frantically ran her hands through her hair, pulling at the roots. "What if the baby hates the bassinet? What if they refuse to sleep in either? What if we've set everything up wrong and the baby doesn't sleep at all?"

Quinn came through the front door, just as she was doing another lap of the apartment.

"What's going on?"

"Do we really need the crib and the bassinet? Why do we have both?"

"The bassinet's for when the baby is super small. Easier to keep them close that way. Then we'll use the crib when they're older. That's what the book said, remember?"

Faye just let out a frustrated sigh. Of course she remembered. But nothing felt logical anymore. Everything could go wrong in a million different ways.

Quinn moved to the kitchen to make some tea while Faye continued to pace.

"What if the baby doesn't latch?" she stopped in her tracks. "What if breastfeeding doesn't work? What if we have to switch to formula and we're unprepared?"

"If breastfeeding doesn't work, we'll figure it out. Formula is fine, Faye. We'll handle it."

"But what if the formula we pick isn't right? What if the baby's allergic to it or something? And I've been reading about colic. What if the baby screams for hours every night and we don't know what to do?"

Quinn walked over, gently taking her hands in his. "Breathe. We'll figure it out if that happens. And if the baby doesn't latch, we'll get help. It's not all on you."

"But what about the bottles? Why do we need a warmer and a sanitizer? Can't we just use the microwave?"

Quinn stifled a laugh, realizing Faye wasn't in the mood for humour. "The bottle warmer is supposed to heat it more evenly than the microwave. And the sanitizer is for making sure things are really clean. Trust me, people do it all the time. We've got it covered."

"It just feels like there's so much to keep track of. I keep thinking I'm missing something important, and then I panic," she sighed, collapsing onto the couch.

"You're not missing anything," Quinn reassured. "You've done everything. The apartment is ready, the hospital bag is packed, the car seat is installed in your car, we've got all the gear we need. We are prepared."

"What if the baby gets cold at night? And the swaddle isn't enough?"

"They'll teach us about that at the hospital, Faye. And we have those sleep sacks, we'll make sure the baby is all nice and cozy."

"I-"

"Faye, no more. We're going to be fine. We don't have to be perfect. No first-time parents are perfect. Now, let's watch something and stop talking. You're giving me a headache."

"Hey!"

Quinn was right. They didn't need to be perfect, they just needed to work together.

It was late in the evening, just two days before her due date, when Faye felt a strange twinge of pain. She had been lying on the couch, flipping through Netflix while Quinn did dishes. At first she thought it was just more Braxton Hicks, she got those a lot, but as the pain spread and deepened, her brain told her it wasn't.

She took a deep breath, trying to stay calm as another wave of pain gripped her lower back. She knew what was happening now. This wasn't a false alarm.

"Quinn?"

"What's up?"

"I think... I think I'm going into labour. The baby's coming."

Quinn froze for a moment, his eyes widening. "Are you sure?"

"I don't now," she admit, feeling the pain again. "But these feel different. Stronger."

Quinn was at her side in an instant, his hand resting on her lower back. "Okay, let's time them. Figure this out."

The next half hour was a blur of counting and breathing. Faye's contractions came steadily, each one closer than the last. She could feel the baby moving lower with each wave of pain, the pressure in her abdomen nothing like she'd ever experienced before.

"Four minutes. We should go."

Once Faye actually got in a bed, doctors and nurses were hooking her up to things, checking her vitals, checking the baby's heartrate, seeing how dilated she was.

They told her she was about six centimetres. And that she and Quinn had some time to wait. Faye had to take her mind off the pain, wracking her brain for something to do.

"You know, Quinn, I really don't know the basics about you."

"What do you mean?"

"Like your favourite colour, favourite movie, that kind of stuff."

"You want to play 20 questions while you wait to push?" he laughed.

"Yes. I'll go first, what's your favourite colour?"

"Blue. I know it's basic. What's yours?"

"Green. But not just any green. Like forest green. Like deep in the woods of Vermont typa shit."

"You have quite the way with words, Faye."

"I know," she winked.

"If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?"

"Hmm, anywhere that I'm happy and with people I care about. But preferably close to a body of water. I find that calming."

"Vancouver, here we come," Quinn smiled, allowing her to squeeze his hand as another contraction hit.

"Are you scared to be a dad?"

"Wow, hard hitting question. I mean, a little. But isn't everyone? I think I'm mostly worried about being there for you guys. Are you scared to be a mom?"

"Fucking terrified. But I can't exactly shove it back in the oven for any longer," she joked, allowing him to brush some hair from her sweaty forehead. "Do I look hot?"

"Oh, amazing. Hotter than when I met you at that party."

"Don't even mention that party. That party's got me pushing a watermelon out of my--"

"Shut up," Quinn cackled.

"One more big push and we've got the baby, Mama!" the doctor smiled.

"I hate you, Quinn Hughes. Ahh!" she gripped his hand, giving her one final push. And then cries filled the room.

"It's a boy!"

Faye collapsed, too tired to cry as they placed the baby on her chest. Quinn, however, wasn't too tired to cry. He wiped at his eyes, staring in wonder at the slime-covered baby on Faye's chest.

"We'll get him all cleaned up and then you can hold him, Dad."

He nodded, kissing Faye's forehead. "You did it, Faye. I'm so proud."

"Is he okay?" she mumbled, beyond exhausted.

"He's perfect. He has my nose, I think. You tell me what you think once he's all clean."

"He's really here."

"He's here," Quinn nodded. "Our baby boy."

A couple minutes later, the nurse brought the baby back, now clean and bundled up, only his face peeking out of the blanket. "Here he is, Mama."

Her little face was scrunched up, his eyes closed, and his lips puckered in the most adorable way possible. Faye stared at him in awe, lightly tracing his cheek with her knuckle.

"Quinn," she whispered. "He's perfect."

Quinn leaned over, wrapping his arm around her as they gazed down at their son. "Yeah. He's perfect."

His little nose did look like Quinn's, but she could see traces of herself in him too, in his chin and the curve of his lips.

"He has your mouth," Quinn said softly, noticing the same thing she did.

"And your nose."

Quinn reached out, gently loosening the blanket and brushing the baby's tiny hand with his finger. The baby stirred slightly, his little fingers curling around one of Quinn's. It was just the three of them, wrapped in their own little perfect bubble of love.

"What are we going to name him?" Faye continued to whisper, not taking her eyes off the bundle of joy in her arms.

"I think... he looks like a James. What do you think?"

Faye smiled. "James. I like it. James Hughes."

Quinn grinned, kissing the top of her head. "James Hughes it is."

Everything they had been through--the stress, the worry, the fear--had all led to that moment. It was all worth it. And as Faye held James close, she felt her heart swell in a way it never had before. She'd never held so much love for one thing.

She glanced at Quinn, who was still staring at James. She reached up, wiping away the last of Quinn's tears with her thumb.

"We're a family."

Quinn smiled, leaning down to give her a proper kiss. "Yeah, we're a family."

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine

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