#nhl one-shot

[theemporium]

[5.1k] with the hughes bowl around the corner, luke is finding it hard to push away his doubtful thoughts. fortunately, he has a friend who’s willing to keep his mind preoccupied with far more sinful thoughts. unfortunately, he’s pretty sure he’s in love with said friend. (smut)

series masterlist

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Luke Hughes felt lost. 

Not physically, fortunately. He was very much aware of where he was—on his bed in the apartment he shared with his older brother, just to prove his point—but it brought him little to no comfort to be in the place he called home for the majority of the year. 

To be completely honest, Luke didn’t even know what he considered home anymore. Whether it was the house he grew up in in Toronto. Or the one in Michigan. Or the crappy shared house he moved into with the boys in college. Or even the lakehouse he has spent the last few summers in.

They felt familiar and homely at points in his life, but now he wasn’t sure. 

There was a voice in the back of his head that told him New Jersey was his home now, that he had accepted as much the day his name was called in the draft. He knew he would be following in Jack’s footsteps, he would be moving to a new state and he would be integrating himself into the city. That he was now a part of the hockey team that the locals held near and dear to their heart, that they saw him as one of them now. 

And for a little while, he got it. 

He found a sense of comfort in their shared apartment, in living with his brother again after years of only sharing summers together. He found comfort in the days after games where he would come back home and collapse on his bed, or after roadies where he could finally return to normalcy. 

He was fine with it.

Hockey was all about adapting and persevering to new environments. He could handle the hotel rooms and stiff pillows because he knew he would eventually come back to the place he called home. 

But something felt off this time around. 

They had landed pretty late in New Jersey coming off their ten day roadie and Luke had expected to find a sense of solace in the fact he would be able to fall face first into his own bed with no alarms or annoying brothers prepared to wake him up at some ungodly hour the next day. 

Instead, Luke just felt…lost. 

It was the only way he could describe the tenseness in his body for the last two weeks. He felt on edge, constantly alert. He felt like his body was moving through his daily routine but his head was far, far away. He felt like he was trying to catch up with everything, like he was seeing everything happen through his own two eyes but couldn’t quite seem to process what was happening. 

His body was on autopilot and he was clawing on the inside for some control. 

It wasn’t a completely foreign feeling to him. He had felt similarly through the later years in high school and college, when the classes started getting a little harder and he was fighting to stay afloat to the point his brain just shut down and his body kept moving.

He had never really felt that way about hockey before but it was just another one of those things that professional hockey threw at him whilst he desperately tried to cling on to what he knew. 

There was a voice in the back of his head that told him he should be responsible and logical and tell someone. He should say something to Jack, to see if his brother had any advice. Or maybe even Quinn. Or even Nico, since the captain had reassured him time and time again that Luke was one of his boys too. 

He should tell someone because he knew what he was feeling wasn’t normal and wasn’t good in the long run. But unfortunately that logical voice was completely overshadowed by the one telling him that he couldn’t go running to others whenever he had a problem, that he had to learn to cope and adapt, that he couldn’t face saying to the people around him that he was struggling when they were all so excited he finally made it to the big leagues. 

His parents. His friends. The hundreds of fans that had been counting down the days until all three Hughes brothers would make it to the NHL. 

He couldn’t let them think he wasn’t made for the tough life of professional hockey, but he felt like he was going to go out of his mind if he didn’t tell someone. If he didn’t have someone who would get it, who wouldn’t judge him for the doubts plaguing his mind. 

It was close to two in the morning when Luke reached for his phone, opening up his contacts and pressing your name far quicker than should have been possible. But it felt like muscle memory as he clicked your contact, his thumbs typing a message and hitting send before he could think twice. 

hockey boy: hey u up?

Luke wasn’t really expecting you to reply, if he was being honest. Maybe a follow up message in the morning but he assumed you would be fast asleep by now, as any normal person would be. He let out a huff as his head dropped back against his pillow, his eyes blankly staring at the ceiling above as he contemplated what he could do to fall asleep quicker. However, he was pleasantly surprised when his phone buzzed on his chest. 

cherry🍒: oooh i think i know how this one goes 

cherry🍒: i hope you’re wearing something sexy ;) 

Luke breathed out a laugh, shaking his head fondly as he quickly typed a response.

hockey boy: no no

hockey boy: just wanted to talk 

hockey boy: couldn’t get to sleep

Your reply came much faster this time.

cherry🍒: everything okay?? 

hockey boy: yeah don’t worry about it 

cherry🍒: bullshit

cherry🍒: get dressed, see in fifteen minutes 

hockey boy: ????? 

However, your reply never came. Instead, Luke was left staring at his phone screen for a few minutes with his brows furrowed in utter confusion before his brain seemed to snap on. He scrambled to push the duvet off of him and quickly shuffle towards his wardrobe, picking clothes that he is pretty sure were clean before shoving his keys and phone into his pocket. 

He glanced down, seeing another message from you telling him to come outside and his chest tightened a little. It felt something close to the adrenaline he got before he stepped on the ice, that rush that he was really doing this—except this time he was sneaking out like some rebellious teenager who was trying not to wake his brother up. 

God knows what wild assumptions Jack would come up with as to why his little brother was sneaking out at two in the morning.

You were already smiling at him when he spotted your car, waving him over as the cold winter night chill made him regret not grabbing another layer beyond the hoodie he slipped on. He quickly rushed over, letting out a sigh of relief when he was instantly hit with warmth as he slipped into the passenger seat before he turned to look at you.

“Hi,” he whispered, because it just felt right to do so.

“Hi,” you grinned back at him before nodding at him. “Put your seatbelt on.” 

He raised his brows, but he did as he was told. “You gonna tell me where we are going?” 

Your grin widened. “Nope.” 

Luke tilted his head. “Are you taking me somewhere to kill me or something?” 

“Yeah because killing a six foot something hockey player who could probably throw me into the Hudson River with ease is exactly what I planned to do with my Wednesday night,” you snorted, shaking your head as you began to pull out of your parking spot.

“You could push me in when I’m not looking,” Luke countered.

Your lips twitched. “I’ll keep that in mind but that’s not the plan for tonight.” 

“Remind me never to go to the river with you.”

…

“You know, I’m pretty sure this is the exact opposite of what the trainers recommended.” 

“I don’t see you complaining.” 

“Oh, I’m not. Just pointing out a fact.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you lightly shoved the boy settled in the backseat next to you whilst he beamed in response. You were parked in some random, empty parking lot. You weren’t exactly sure where but it was far away enough from the rest of the world for you to deem it the perfect spot. 

After annoying you for five minutes, Luke had fallen silent when you pulled into a McDonald’s drive thru and proceeded to order far more than was necessary for two people. But Luke only grinned, making some comment about dragging you into the river with him if his trainers found out that you just snorted at. 

And now, the two of you were huddled into the backseat of your car, eating away whilst his phone played some country album he was insistent to get you to like in the front of the car in one of the cupholders that was meant for your drinks. 

“So,” Luke started, leaning over to steal a fry from your stash before you could slap his hand away. “Why are we here? Decided to give me a pity meal before you killed me?” 

“Maybe,” you grinned, leaning over to steal a handful of his fries before he had the chance to stop you. “You just seemed like you needed to get out of your head a bit. This is what I do.” 

He raised his brows. “A midnight McDonald’s run?” 

“Sometimes it’s McDonald’s, sometimes it’s cookies,” you shrugged in response. “The snack changes. But the drive away from everything is what helps. God knows how many times I’ve done it when I was drowning in assignments or at work.”

He swallowed. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” your smile softened a little. “What’s up, bud? What’s got you like this?” 

“I…” Luke paused, trying to string his thoughts together but it was hard when they were swirling around in his head. “I don’t know. I just feel like I have spent the last few weeks like a robot, doing what I was supposed to be doing. But not…doing it. If that makes sense.” 

You nodded, your face remaining serious even if Luke was pretty sure he would have laughed at how bizarre it sounded if the roles were reversed. “You’re playing some intense games. Maybe your brain just needed a break.” 

“But I don’t want a break,” he said with a huff, frustrated at himself more than anything. “This is what I’ve been training for all my life. I should be able to fucking handle it.” 

“You can and you are,” you said to him. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t get some extra help along the way.” 

“Like what?” Luke snorted. “The other boys on the team—”

“Probably understand exactly what you’re going through,” you interrupted, nudging your knee against his. “You’d be surprised what you don’t know about a person, Luke.” 

He hummed, not saying much more as he stared at you with an inquisitive look. 

“You’re still playing really well,” you assured him, shifting your gaze away from him and back towards your food. “At least, most of the commenters are saying that. A few of them are dicks though. I have made a list of the ones I don’t like.” 

Luke laughed, somehow not surprised by that. “Yeah, kinda comes with the territory. I’m not gonna be everyone’s favourite player.” 

“Well, I think they are stupid,” you told him, your nose scrunched up slightly. “You’re my favourite player.” 

“Because you’re not biassed at all,” he teased.

“Hm, you’re right. I should be fairer,” you grinned at him, something quite like mischief shining in your eyes. “You’re playing the Canucks soon, right? I heard there’s this Hughes guy on the team that is really good—”

“Ha, ha,” Luke deadpanned before frowning a little. “I’m surprised you know.” 

“Please, it’s the only thing I’ve heard about for your last few days,” you said, scoffing a little in disbelief. Then again, Luke was rarely watching his games back with the running commentary over them. “The Hughes Bowl has quite a name to it though, I’m excited.” 

“Do you want to watch it?” Luke blurted out. “Like, in person.” 

You paused. “As in watching it in the arena?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, swallowing back his nerves. “I can get you a ticket. I happen to know a guy on the team or something.” 

You snorted. “Really? I’m happy to just watch it from home. I don’t want to put you in a tight position trying to get a ticket or anything.” 

“Nah, I can get you a ticket,” Luke reassured you, waving off your concerns. “Just one condition.” 

You raised your brows. “Oh?” 

“You gotta wear number forty-three,” he said with a grin. “Painted on your cheek or something. Proper puck bunny.” 

You rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder but his heart stuttered a little at the sound of your laugh.

“Alright, Hughes, I’ll be your puck bunny for the night because I’m a good friend like that.” 

And he chose to ignore the way the taste in his mouth instantly soured at that, instead leaning over to try and steal one of the chicken nuggets from your box instead. 

…

When Luke thought of going pro, he thought of high-speed skating and fast-paced games against some of the best players in the world. 

Never once in his daydreams as a child did he ever consider the media aspect of the job. Nor did he consider the fact it would be so fascinating to people that three brothers would be playing in one game. 

Which, in retrospect, he did understand why. He just really wished he was not one of the brothers. 

The whole week had been countless interviews and conferences of journalists asking the same question in different ways and Luke was losing his mind. 

How does it feel to play with your brothers in the NHL? 

Did you ever think the three of you would be playing in a NHL game together? 

Will your parents support different teams or both?

Are you excited to finally play Quinn on the ice after being on the same team as Jack for a few months now? 

Are your parents proud of all three sons playing together? 

Luke was surprised his mind hadn’t exploded after the third day of the insistent questioning. And he knew both Quinn and Jack were getting the same treatment, getting thrown questions every few minutes about Luke finally joining them in the big leagues. 

But it did little to squash the anxiety that had been bubbling in his chest all week. 

It felt like everyone was expecting a spectacle. It felt like suddenly all eyes were on them, on him. He wasn’t just a normal rookie anymore, suddenly he was the third Hughes brother that was meant to show how great and amazing he was compared to his brothers. Suddenly, it felt way more intense than an average game in the season. 

And yet, everyone else seemed excited whilst he felt like the only one who was drowning once again. 

“This is a cop out! You have to pick one!” 

“She’s trying to save your feelings because she would have obviously chosen a Canucks jersey.” 

“You’re both so immature,” Ellen commented, rolling her eyes fondly at her two eldest sons. “Luke hasn’t complained once.” 

Luke snapped out of his daze when all eyes turned to him. “Uh, yeah, the shirts are cool, Mom.” 

Ellen frowned a little. “Are you okay, honey? Jack, are you taking care of your little brother?” 

“Oh, he’s fine,” Jack waved off his parents, his legs swinging as he sat on the kitchen counter with a Cheshire Cat grin on his face. “Lukey just has performance anxiety because his girlfriend is watching tonight.” 

“Girlfriend?” Ellen repeated before turning to her youngest with a smile. “You didn’t tell us we were meeting your girlfriend tonight.”

“Because you’re not,” Luke quickly bit out, shooting Jack an exasperated look. “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just a friend. And her seat is in a different section.” 

“Just a friend,” Quinn snorted. “Sure, bud.” 

“Be nice,” Jim shot his eldest son a look. 

“Actually,” Luke suddenly shot up onto his feet. “I have to give her her ticket so I should get going. I’ll see you guys at the arena.” 

Ellen frowned. “Luke—” 

“Didn’t you say her ticket was waiting at the front office?” Jack questioned with a confused frown.

“Change of plans! I have to take it to her! Bye!” 

Luke didn’t give anyone in his family much chance to further question his behaviour before he was barrelling out the door, bag in one hand and his car keys (because yes, he did finally purchase his own car after Jack kept bitching) in the other. 

His brain was in overdrive as he started the car, his body once again working on muscle memory as he started the route to your apartment. It occurred to him as a passing thought that he should have messaged you to warn you, or check you were even home. But he never did.

Instead, he showed up at your door, knocking exactly three times before he paced his spot until the door swung open. 

And then every single thought left his brain the second he saw you. 

“Luke?” 

He cleared his throat. “I…game…ticket?” 

You laughed, a little nervous. “What?” 

“I’m sorry for showing up like this,” he murmured, shaking his head as he tried to get ahold of himself. “Everyone was talking about the game and I started spiralling and…here I am!” 

“Come in,” you said in a softer voice, your fingers wrapped around his wrist as you pulled him into the apartment, letting the door close behind him.

You guided him through the apartment, pulling him towards the kitchen and letting him settle back against the counter as he watched you grab a glass from the cupboard to fill it up with water for him. Or at least, he was trying to passively watch you and not focus on your attire that was making his head spin for a whole new reason. 

“I, uh,” he paused, clearing his throat. “I like your outfit.” 

“Yeah?” You grinned at him over your shoulder, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the deep red lipstick staining your mouth. “Is it puck bunny enough?” 

His eyes moved from your red lips to the number 43 painted on both cheeks before glancing down at the oversized Devils hoodie you had on. It had his number on the front, and on the sleeve. In fact, he was surprised they even sold those hoodies considering— 

“Is that my hoodie?” He questioned, straightening up a little whilst you just shrugged innocently. 

“I was working on a time crunch for merch to wear,” you answered with a smile. “And it was easier to steal considering you left it here the other day.”

“I would have given you it if you asked,” Luke murmured, thanking you as he took the glass of water from you and took a small sip. “Or I would have given you my jersey.”

Your nose scrunched. “Pretty sure you need that.” 

“I have spare ones,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes when you laughed in response. “You look good.” 

“I’m glad I passed the test,” you teased as you leaned against the counter beside him. “Now, wanna tell me what’s up? I thought you were going to talk to someone about this.” 

“I was. I just…didn’t know when,” Luke admitted shyly before sighing, placing the glass behind him on the counter. “I don’t know, I just feel like my head is spinning with so many thoughts and I don’t know how to shut it off. And that’s, like, the last thing I need before a game. Let alone this game!” 

You nodded in understanding.

“I just feel like there’s so many people I might possibly let down and I just can’t shake it off,” Luke added, his lips turned downwards. “I just want it to stop.” 

“You know,” you started. “I may have a temporary solution.” 

“Yes. Whatever it is. Yes.” 

“Luke,” you shot him a look. “You don’t even know what it is. Remember what we said about consent?” 

“I thought that was about sex stuff, why—” He paused, his lips parting in surprise. “Is your solution a sex thing?” 

You huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, it’s a sex thing. Do you trust me?” 

“Yeah,” Luke replied instantly. “Of course I do.” 

“Okay, good, then just let me take care of you,” you murmured before you leaned in to kiss him. 

Luke felt his shoulders drop a little the second he felt your lips on his, the second he felt your tongue darting out and teasing his own. His hands dropped to your waist to pull you closer, a soft moan leaving his lips as his hands slipped down to palm your ass. 

He was so lost in the sensation of kissing you—something he hadn’t done in a few days, thank you very much—that he barely noticed the way your fingers traced along the waistband of his trousers until the heel of your palm pressed down against his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” Luke muttered under his breath, his brain lagging behind as he tried to keep up with your kisses as you began to palm his cock over his clothes. “Cherry, I—” 

“We can stop, if you want,” you reassured him, lightly nudging your nose against his. “Just say the word.” 

“Please don’t stop,” Luke rasped. 

Luke barely had a chance to process the wolfish smile on your face before you slid to your knees in front of him, one hand continuing to stroke him whilst the other moved to unbutton his pants. His mouth went dry at the sight.

“Cherry—” 

“Trust me, yeah?” 

Luke nodded. 

“Good boy,” you smiled before pulling his trousers down to his ankles. 

His hands shifted to grasp the counter behind him, leaning against it for support as he watched you lean forward and press a soft, feather-light kiss over his boxers. And then another. And another. All along the length of his cock before you reached the tip and lightly sucked over the material of his boxers. 

“Oh shit,” Luke swore, his knuckles going white at how hard he was holding onto the counter. 

“Just relax,” you hummed, your words vibrating against him as your fingers hooked on the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them down his legs until they joined his pants by his ankles. “Gonna take care of you, help you get out of your head a little.

“Mhm,” Luke nodded, his voice a little more high-pitched than he would have liked. 

His eyes were glued to you, like he couldn’t even look away if he wanted to (not that he did). His eyes were transfixed on the way your hands gripped the base of his cock, the way his tip teased the same red painted lips he had been losing his mind over since you opened the door. 

Luke tucked his bottom lip between his teeth to try save some of his dignity when you shamelessly sucked on the head of his cock, moaning around him like it you were the one being pleasured. 

His chest felt like it was about to be caved in from his heavy pants, his fingers itching to pull the rest of his clothes off as you started moving your head, as you started bobbing and stroking him. 

He let out a choked out noise, something stuck between a moan and a whine as you took him deeper into your mouth. As your red lips wrapped around his cock, painting his skin the same colour as your lipstick. As your cheeks hallowed and the sight of his number painted on your face whilst you stared up at him with wide eyes became his favourite fucking sight in the whole world. 

And then you were moaning too, the feeling of your mouth vibrating around his cock so overwhelming that he could have sworn his knees actually buckled.

You pulled off, your hand still pumping up and down the length of his cock as you grinned up at him, unbothered and uncaring about the mess. Your lips were wet and smudged, a string of saliva just breaking from your lip to the tip of his cock. You leaned back on your knees, taking in the sight of his flushed cheeks, glossy eyes and red lips he had bitten raw trying to hold back his moans. 

“God, look at you,” you mused, your thumb sliding over the slit on the tip of his cock. Your smile widened when he let out a shaky, breathless moan. “You look so pretty like this, Luke, wish you could see yourself.” 

“Bet—” He took a deep breath. “—my perspective is so much better.” 

“Yeah?” You hummed, leaning in to lick the beads of precome leaking from his lip. “You like this baby?” 

He nodded. “So much.”

“Good,” you smiled up at him, your eyes remaining on his face as you teased his cock along your lips again. “Be a good boy and come for me then.” 

There wasn’t a single thought in his head other than youyouyouyouyou. He could barely care about the state he was in or the fact he was probably due to head to rink soon because you were on your knees in front of him, bobbing your head up and down on his cock, taking him so deep that your nose was brushing the curls at the base of his cock. 

He could feel his muscles tensing, his hands grasping onto the counter like a lifeline as he shamelessly moaned your name as you kept going and going and going until he was coming down your throat. 

Luke wasn’t even sure at what point he closed his eyes, his head spinning as his orgasm washed over him and almost knocked him off his feet. He let out a shaky breath, slowly blinking his eyes open to look down and find you slowly swiping a dribble of his come that escaped and sucking it back into your mouth.

“Fuck,” Luke groaned, his dick pathetically twitching at the sight. He almost wished he could take a picture of you, just for himself to hoard. “You’re going to kill. Like, actually kill me.”

You laughed, your eyes glittering with an emotion he couldn’t quite understand. “Don’t die on me before I see you play in person, Hughes. You’ll let down your favourite puck bunny.” 

Luke could only roll his eyes fondly. “I’ll score a couple of goals for you to say thank you for the blowjob.” 

“I want a hatrick, Hughes.”

…

Luke did manage to score a goal at the end of the second period. 

And just to make it a little bit sweeter, the Devils did win the Hughes Bowl, much to Quinn’s dismay. 

But the lingering anxiety that had been gnawing at him for the last week was nowhere to be found as he felt his teammates laugh and hug and cheer around him, buzzing as they huddled their way down the tunnel and back towards the locker room. 

Jack was grinning as wide as he was as they peeled off their gear, rushing through their post-game routine and speeches so they could meet their parents and Quinn outside. He was letting himself get sucked into the celebrations, listening to whatever god awful playlist Nate had put on as they continued to mess about in the locker room, high off their win. 

“You should invite your friend to dinner,” was the first thing Ellen said once he and Jack exited the locker room. “To celebrate your win.” 

“And Quinn’s loss,” Jack added with a grin.

“Watch it,” Jim murmured, but it was fond as he wrapped his arm around Quinn. “We are proud of all three of you.”

“And we will kick your asses next time,” Quinn said in that quiet, confident tone only he could do. 

“Yeah, she should be hanging about. Let me text her,” Luke said, still riding off high spirits as he stepped away from his family and pulled his phone out. He couldn’t fight back the smile off his face when he found some messages already waiting from you.

cherry🍒: YOU SCOOOOORED!!! 

cherry🍒: i’m taking that as payment for earlier 

cherry🍒: you guys won because of a lucky blowjob

cherry🍒: wooooo!! you won my first live hockey game!! congrats!! 

hockey boy: hey u still around? 

cherry🍒: no sorry :( 

cherry🍒: i left after the final buzzer 

cherry🍒: why? what’s up?

Luke frowned a little, trying to fight the way his stomach twisted at the fact you left so quickly. He thought the unspoken invite to hang behind with him was obvious but apparently not. 

hockey boy: just wanted to see u after the game

hockey boy: jack keeps talking about u so my parents invited you to dinner 

cherry🍒: aw that’s nice of them, tell them thanks!

cherry🍒: but this night should be for you and your family!!

cherry🍒: not exactly a place for a friend haha 

cherry🍒: but we can celebrate together tomorrow after practice?

hockey boy: yeah sure 

hockey boy: i’ll come over 

cherry🍒: enjoy rubbing in the win to your brother ;)

“Luke?”

Luke cleared his throat, quickly locking his phone and slipping it back into his pocket before he turned back to his parents. He put on a smile, one that felt far too similar to the media smile he gave the cameras, and shrugged his shoulders in response. 

“My friend is busy, other plans or something,” he lied through his teeth. “She said thank you for the offer though.” 

“Aw, maybe next time,” Ellen smiled. 

Luke only nodded in response, following his parents and his brothers out into the players’ car park as he ignored the bitter, ugly feeling bubbling in his stomach at the use of friend. He knew that’s what the two of you were, you had said so multiple times and so had he.

But Luke couldn’t help but wonder if there was a chance for something more. He couldn’t help but imagine a world where you would attend more games, where he would leave the locker room and you would be waiting for him beside his parents. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if you had been more than a friend in his head for far longer than he cared to admit. 

And he really couldn’t help but wonder if he was stuck in the friendzone for good with you. 

.

[puckinghischier]

jack & luke loving quinn’s gf almost as much as he does bc suddenly they have an older sister they can call for advice on the most random things…

“so, hypothetically, if i wanted to get a pedicure, would they give it to me since i’m a guy?” jack asks you over the phone.

you stop in your tracks, right in front of your car, baffled at the question. “jack, is this seriously what you called me four times about?”

“i mean, yeah. you weren’t picking up. thought you and quinn might be screwing and wanted to break that up as soon as i thought about it,” he admits like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

“jack!” you scolded, scoffing at his crudeness. “i was picking up some snacks for the guys before their game today. i couldn’t even get to my phone if i wanted to,” you roll your eyes, even though he can’t see you.

“you make it sound like you were ignoring me on purpose,” he says, basically being able to hear the pout on his face.

“i wasn’t not ignoring you on purpose.”

he smacks his teeth at your answer, returning to his original question. “anyways, will they do a pedicure on my gnarly man feet or no?”

you don’t even try to hide the laugh that escapes you, opening your door and finally sitting down in your car. “yes jack, they’ll give you a pedicure. are you actually going to go get one?”

“yes! dude, have you seen my feet lately? they’re disgusting. plus, quinn was telling luke and i about that time you made him do one with you and how much better his feet felt in his skates afterwards.”

you think about the fact that quinn now has monthly pedicure appointments with you, not shocked at all that he shared the information with his younger brothers.

“jack! is that y/n? i need to talk to her!” you hear luke yell in the background of jack’s call, stopping whatever response you were about to give.

you hear shuffling, insinuating the exchange of the phone. “hey! y/n! so, i need your advice.”

“hi, luke, i’m good, thanks for asking! how are you?” your voice drips with sarcasm.

“yeah, hi and whatever,” he dismisses you. “so, if you were a girl, would you rather your date wear a pink shirt to show he’s not a toxic guy, or would you rather him wear blue or black to show he’s serious about the date?”

once again, you pause. you look over to the side, as if there’s an invisible camera there and mouth a ‘what?’

“okay, well first of all i am a girl-“

“well yeah, but like…a real girl. one that isn’t dating quinn and would be ready to hop on the luke train,” he interrupts you, earning his own roll of your eyes.

“as i was saying,” you ignore his interruption, “i am a girl, and i don’t think it’s that serious? wear whatever you wanna wear. if she likes you, she likes you. if she doesn’t, she doesn’t. i don’t think wearing pink is going to either hurt or help the date.”

the line is silent for a moment. “i think i’m going to wear pink anyways. you know, just to let her know i’m not a douche,” he finally speaks.

“okay, well, if that’s what you want to do, then do it-“

“thanks, y/n! bye!” you’re cut off yet again, hearing the line go dead. groaning, you call quinn, letting him know you’re on your way with the food.

“hey, baby! you get the catering order yet?” quinn’s excited voice fills your car as you turn it on and put it in drive.

“yeah, i got it. on my way now. just got off the phone with your idiot brothers,” you tell him, pulling out into traffic.

“oh god, what did they want this time?” he asks you, knowing how often you’re plagued with calls from his siblings.

“well, jack wanted to know if he could book a pedicure appointment even though he’s a man, and then luke wanted to know if he should wear pink on his date so he doesn’t look like a douche,” you give the short version of your conversations.

quinn lets out a laugh, not at all surprised at his brothers.

“quinn, we’ve gotta set some ground rules. i can’t keep doing this. i don’t know how you dealt with this by yourself for all these years. and god, your sweet mother. i feel for her,” you say not entirely seriously, knowing they call ellen more than they call you, if that’s even possible.

“baby, they love you. you’re the big sister they never had, they’re just excited to finally have someone to ask this stuff to other than mom. because mom usually tells them to figure it out on their own,” he chuckles, knowing how much both luke and jack have told him they loved having you around.

“well, i’m about to take the ellen approach because they make me want to pull my hair out sometimes, those disgustingly lovable heathens,” you tell your boyfriend, never really being able to say anything bad about the brothers. they’re like excited puppies anytime they get to see you in person, and it does melt your heart a little bit each time.

“i’ll talk to them about it,” quinn’s still laughing at how you can’t help but talk about how much you love his brothers, even when you’re aggravated at them. “just focus on getting here. i miss you, wanna see you before game time.”

“okay, be there in like-“ you stop talking when your ringtone blares through your car.

“god, its jack again. i gotta go, i’ll see you in a few minutes,” you groan, ending the call to answer the interruption.

“what is it this time, jack?”

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

Please # 51 “I’m your husband. It’s my job.”   ☁️For Quinn Thank you !

ooo this is very Quinn Hughes - eldest daughter, protector of everyone coded for sure!

Drabble Masterlist.

"I'm your husband. It's my job."

You were sick, sicker than you have ever been. It was some type of stomach bug that was going around and for some reason your body just couldn't shake it. This was one of the first times in your entire life that you truly had relay on someone fully to help take care of you.

Quinn was amazing throughout the entire experinece. He brought you soap and made sure you ate things that you could actually keep down. Since you felt so sick he kept a bucket next to your side of the bed for you to throw up in if needed, he never complained when he had to clean it out even though if roles were reversed you defintely would. Your body was so fatigued that you even had to get Quinn to help you to the bathroom. He helped you shower, he made sure even though you felt like crap you still showered everyday because he knows that's important.

He made sure you took all your medicine on time and listened to all the doctors instructions. Even though you told him not too because he would get sick, he never left your side almost always cuddling you as you watched whatever you wanted on T.V. You were so out of it you didn't even realize at one point you were watching a Canucks game and Quinn was cuddling up next to you instead of on the ice in Seattle. But once your mind realized you gasped in shock.

Quinn tore his eyes from the t.v. quickly, "what's wrong?" he asked frantically ready to jump up to help in anyway he could.

"Quinny! That's your team!" you tried to raise your voice but it came out more dry and raspy then you would of liked. A smile slowly creeped on his face.

"Yeah that's why I'm watching it gotta make sure Brock and Petty are doing a good job for me." he chuckles still looking down at you.

"No. Your suppose to be there not here. It's your job to be there! People are counting on you. If you leave now you'll make the Kings game for tomorrow." you argue, you try to push him so he leaves the bed but even if you weren't weak from being sick you wouldn't be able to move Quinn unless he wanted you to.

"Yes it's my job. But I'm your husband. It's my job to take care of you. Remember, sickness and health, they'll be okay for a few games without me." grabbing your and pulling you so you were pracatically laying on top of me. "Both are my job, but your my most important job. Okay?" he asks making sure your paying attention even in your delirious state due to the stomach flu.

"okay." you whisper, turning your head trying to focus on the game on the t.v. but you fall asleep before the current shift was even over.

[sweetteainthesummerx]

☄. *. ⋆ mine ⋆ . * . ☄

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

nhl masterlist !

pairing: nico hischier x eldest daughter!reader

warnings: angst and comfort, sex is mentioned, but not too graphic!! fluff and happy ending

song: mine by taylor swift

summary: you've had to fight for yourself and everyone your whole life, now you have nico to fight for you.

word count: 2.5 k

notes: UGH nico my love!! this is for all of the eldest daughters who deserve the world :) hope you enjoy!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

i was a flight risk, with a fear of fallin', wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts

it's during one of your first dates with nico when you realize this boy is special.

you don't do relationships. you're sensible enough to know that romance isn't like how it's portrayed in media because even if there is love between two people, there will always be hesitations and complications.

complications that you do not need, not when your job keeps you busy and you have your family to think of.

there's another reason though, one you don't like to think much of as a reason for your aversion to vulnerability.

you grew up with an absent father and a mother who cared too much. your perception of love had been thrown out the window, stomped on and ran over.

so when you meet nico at a bar and he asks for your number, you don't expect it to progress anywhere.

but he's so handsome, all dimples and foreign accent as he buys you a drink and tells you that you're pretty.

three dates in, he's got you wrapped up in his arms between his legs on his bed.

he's warm, broad chest under your back. you snuggle closer, pressing the tops of your cold feet into his calves. he dips his face into your shoulder and smiles.

the notebook is playing on the tv facing his bed as he fiddles with your fingers. you told him it was your favourite last week when he took you out to an art museum. you didn't expect him to remember.

you cannot believe this man. he's made you cum three times, once with his mouth, another with his fingers and the last with his cock.

and then he drew you a bath and dried your hair for you.

when you ask him why, he puffs out his chest awkwardly, scratching one of his big bicep and tells you he really likes you and he wants to take care of you.

who does that in this day and age?

he had texted you earlier to see if you were free for dinner. you expected mediocre food and then sex.

maybe a few minutes of cuddling before you left his apartment, but he's breathing in the smell of his shampoo on your hair, holding you like it's the only thing he wants to do on a saturday night, after he had you writhing in his sheets for nearly an hour.

you want to run, because he makes you speechless and your mouth dries up with how sweet he is. you're not used to being taken care of, as sad as it sounds.

normally you would be halfway back to your apartment if had been anyone else.

but this time, something tells you to stick around because you have a premonition that even if you do get hurt, nico hischier is going to be worth it.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

we're takin' on the world together, and there's a drawer of my things at your place

"hey, handsome." your boyfriend of a month comes up from behind you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a kiss into your hair.

he asks you to be his girlfriend during a morning walk in the park, eyes earnest. you say yes eagerly, because you don't know if there's something so different about him, but he makes you so deliriously happy.

so after a week or two of dancing around each other and no labels, he makes you his with a sweet, long kiss next to the flowers that are starting to bloom in the damp spring air.

now you're in his kitchen, words coming easy to you again. you tell him he looks handsome with his wet hair and week-old beard.

he flushes like he always does when you compliment him.

cute, you think.

you turn from the overnight oats you're making for him to kiss him properly. he nips your lip and you laugh.

"I have something for you, schatz ." the pet name makes you weak in the knees, and you're glad he has you pinned against the counter.

he slips a key into your fingers.

your heart drops to your stomach, and it bounces back up.

"really?" you ask, and he shrugs, oddly shy and pink.

"you're here so much, and I want you around more. it doesn't make since to drive all the way to your apartment when it's dark."

you swoon; does he even know the effect he has on you?

soon, half of his closet is full of your clothes, your pink toothbrush has a spot next to his and your girly products he has no idea how to use are scattered on his counter.

he buys you a nightstand for your side of the bed, and it has a picture of the two of you on it.

you wonder if it's too early in the relationship for something like this, but nico tells you he doesn't care.

he just wants you. you want to cry, because no one has ever just wanted you, with all of your complications and busy schedule.

he cuddles you to sleep and tells you that the two of you can take on the world together, and the first time in a while, you feel content and steady.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

you learn my secrets and you figure out why I'm guarded, you say we'll never make my parents' mistakes

you don't think of your father often. he left when you were 13, when you were young enough to be ridden with emotion and the feelings of inadequacies because why didn't he want you?

but you were also old enough to take care of your four younger siblings as your mother took to bed, her own problems boiling up.

sure, he kept up with birthdays and holidays by sending money instead of well wishes, but you wanted him to be present.

the last you saw of him was at your high school graduation a few years ago. you've given up since then, because he's remarried and has step-kids he treats the way he should've treated you and your siblings.

your mother has moved on. she's dating again and you like seeing the flushed glow on her cheeks over facetime as she tells you about some math teacher that took her out to an Italian restaurant.

your youngest brother, the runt of your family, your sisters always joke, is finally 18 this year.

they can all fend for themselves and you are just you.

sure, they still call you up every few weeks with something trivial, but you are no longer just the oldest of four, or the reliable daughter your mother counted on for everything.

and nico reminds you of this all the time when you start to worry and get in over your head.

you're happy and carefree. you go out with nico and his team mates who gag when the two of you kiss, and laugh at your jokes.

nico takes you on dates, and lets you try and cook swiss dishes on his days off.

your mind is clear of your father, until he calls you on a wednesday night.

nico is fast asleep beside you, and you have to wiggle out of his embrace to reach for your phone.

"hello?" you ask groggily. you don't check the caller id, but you wish you had when your father says your name enthusiastically into the phone.

you want to throw up. what does he want?

"listen, kid. I know I don't call enough, but Johnny is a huge hockey fan. I was wondering if there is anyway that you could get tickets since your boyfriend plays for the devils?"

"how did you find out-" you asked, half-shocked he still has your number saved, and half-shocked at the sheer audacity he has to ask you for a favour for one of his step-sons.

"I saw on the news, kid. now, I would really appreciate if you could do this for your father-"

you want to berate him. if he has the time to read those useless gossip pages, why hasn't he come to see you or even called just because?

you don't even realize nico is awake, but he takes the phone from you.

"excuse me, sir, but your daughter has an early day tomorrow. she needs to go. she'll call you back, if she wants."

he hangs up and turns to you, eyes soft in the light of the lamp he turns on to see you better.

"oh, schatz," he sighs, pulling you into his lap and wiping you tear-wet face.

you're sobbing, but you need to stop. he doesn't need to see you like this, not when this was the behaviour that made your dad leave your mom.

he pulls at your fingers that are stifling your cries and kisses each one of them delicately, "let it out, liebling."

he hates that you think he's going to leave you. he hates what your father has done to the way you think, and he hates that your hurting.

seeing you cry makes something primal and angry stir in his chest, because you deserve all of the good things in the world and more.

it frustrates him that there is nothing for him to do, no one to punch - well, maybe your dad - and all he can do is be there for you.

between the conversations about why you're so guarded and the way you pull back whenever your relationship progresses with him, he knows.

he knows your scared, but he's so determined to make you see that he's so willing to do anything for you, and your future.

"I promise you," he whispers when you calm, only hiccuping slightly, "we will never make your parents' mistakes."

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

i ran out, crying, and you followed me out into the street...braced myself for the goodbye...then you took me by surprise, you said, "I'll never leave you alone"

"why didn't you talk to me about this before hand?" he huffs, setting down his mug.

you can feel something jittery and hot floating a milimeter above your skin, incasing you in the want to retract, to leave.

your stomach is empty and you want to vomit. you can't look at him, not with frustration on the tip of your tongue.

"I didn't think you needed a say in my career!" you exclaim, and the hurt on his face makes it hard to breathe.

"I would like to know what's going on with my girlfriend, especially if she has to travel every month for work!" he rubs his temples, "we hardly see each other as is-"

"I need to support myself! I would love to quit and be a trophy wife, but forgive me for needing financial independence in case you leave me!"

you scream that last part, and tears are starting to sprout in your eyes. this is so stupid, but there is no part of you that can shake off that needling feeling that he might go.

nico gapes at you, trying to unpack everything.

you shake your head, fingers trembling as you stand.

"I'll give you some space." you have no where to go, maybe your sister's house two hours away by train, but you can't stand the tortured look on his face.

you run out, ignoring his calls of your name until he catches you on the street.

his fingers loop around your wrist easily, and you want to shake them off because you can't bear having his gentle touch now and losing it later.

"I'll never leave you alone, schatz. you know that. so don't walk out on me, please."

you hang your head low; you love him so much, but it's so hard.

you're so afraid to lose him you're not letting yourself love him.

you tell him so, and his face crumples as he takes you in his arms.

you whisper promises to each other under the streetlights, to never leave each other and to communicate better.

from then on, you believe everything he says.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

you made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter

nico is watching you from the kitchen, because your youngest sister forced you to sit on the couch and gave him a dirty look that had him following her into the kitchen to help with the drying.

she notices the smile on his face: soft, completely unguarded and full of admiration.

she sighs. maybe you are in good hands after all.

when you called a month ago to tell her that nico brought you to switzerland on a whim and you didn't panic, make an itinerary and freak out, she almost choked on her water.

you who bared your teeth at the unknown, who always needed a plan?

he made you so carefree. it makes her relieved that you have him now, because she saw how bad things were when your mother was depressed and you were balancing school, a part time job and watching all of them.

she was too young to understand anything then, but she wishes now that she had behaved better, understood more, just to take a pound off of the heavy burden you carried.

"y'know, I think you're making her a rebel."

"what?" your boyfriend laughs at the younger girl, and she nods seriously.

"she came late today, and she only fixed the flowers once. that's crazy improvement."

"hmm." he's smiling at you again, while you laugh at something one of your brothers' had said. she relishes in the fact that he can hardly take his eyes off of you.

"she's had to fight for us her whole life," this gets nico's attention, "and she's had to fight for herself. we were always here, but we were too young to understand the weight she carried for us."

"but now," she feels oddly emotional, the unwarranted guilt she has from simply not understanding dissolving in her throat, "she has you to fight for her."

you, her sweet sister who wasn't grown and was forced to take on more than any kid did, finally had someone in her corner.

you could afford to be careless once in a while now.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

+ you are the best thing that's ever been mine

you are undeniably sick: runny nose, shivers, a cough.

calling into your job for a day off, you sleep in until your phone shines 2:37 PM.

nico hears your stirring, and comes in. he smoothes your hair and kisses your red nose.

quietly, because he's afraid your head hurts, he hands you a bowl of soup and reties your hair for you.

he fusses, the captain side of him coming in as he fluffs your pillows and rub your shoulders.

you can't remember the last time someone looked after you when you were sick.

so maybe it's the delirium and the fact you can't really breathe, but you give him a loopy smile (the Advil was kicking in).

"you are the best thing that's ever even mine, handsome."

he flushes and rolls his eyes affectionately, and cuddles you close.

your statement still stands when he inevitably gets sick half a week later and becomes a whiny baby.

you love him so, so much.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[hd-junglebook]

The Pregnancy Series

all new post will be continued on my new tumblr @bloodreinasbathwater. please go look at the masterlist to see updates, this blog will no longer be in use.

Summary: Y/n had always been the independent, only child of two successful business owners. The last thing she wanted to do was follow in their footsteps but when she told them her dreams, they cut her off, leaving her to fend for herself out in the real world.

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 (on new blog) , Part 5

Summary: Y/n had been trying to have a baby for the past five months. Finally when she thinks all is well, her boyfriend breaks things off, leaving her with a fresh pregnancy and empty home. She feels like all hope is lost, until she meets jack who can't seem to get enough of her and her bump.

Prologue , Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

The young dad over here

Summary: Y/n and Luke had been on and off for a year, no title, no commitment, no "what are we", until y/n finds out some news that she's sure will have Luke running for the hills.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

[be4chywritez]

people’s princess |nico hischier

nico hischier x fem!reader

You’re the embodiment of the people’s princess

my masterlist!

request are open

prompt list!

You held Nico’s hand as you walked towards the parking lot, admiring how even after a tough loss he still stopped to take pictures and sign things for fans. The crowd was buzzing, fans pushing against the barricades trying to get Nico to sign all sorts of things. Nico squeezed your hand three times, “I love you.”

You stood behind him, facing the other barricade where other players were signing autographs. As you scanned the crowd, you noticed a small boy sitting in his mother’s arms, both of them being somewhat pushed against the barrier.

You walked towards them, smiling at the little boy and his mother. “Hi there,” you greeted warmly. “What’s your name?”

The boy looked up at you with wide eyes. “Alex,” he said quietly.

“Hi Alex, I’m Y/N. Is that your jersey?” you asked, pointing to the small Devils jersey he was holding tightly.

Alex nodded, his grip tightening even more. “I want Nico to sign it,” he said in a whisper.

You looked at his mother. “Do you mind if I take him over to Nico?” you asked. His mother nodded. “That would be wonderful, thank you.”

You gently scooped Alex from his mother’s arms. He clutched your neck as you walked towards Nico, who was handing back a Sharpie to a fan. You called his name, and he gave you a curious smile, walking towards you and Alex.

“This is Alex,” you introduced the boy. “He’d really like you to sign his jersey.”

Nico’s face lit up with a kind smile. “Of course,” he said, slumping down to Alex’s level. “Hi Alex, nice to meet you. Can I see your jersey?”

Alex shyly handed over his jersey, his eyes wide with awe. Nico signed it with a flourish, adding a little smiley face for good measure. “Here you go, buddy,” he said, handing it back.

You looked at Nico, who was already looking at you, his eyes twinkling. He waved at Alex one last time before going back to signing things for fans.

As you carried Alex back towards his parents, he looked at you with shining eyes. “Are you Nico’s girlfriend?” he asked, messing with the hair around the nape of your neck.

You smiled and nodded. “I am. Do you like watching him play?”

Alex nodded excitedly. “Yeah! He’s my favorite!”

“Mine too,” you said with a smile. “Do you play hockey, Alex?”

“Not yet, but I want to,” he replied, clutching his jersey.

“You should definitely go for it,” you encouraged. Alex beamed at that thought. “Really?”

“Really,” you assured him. “Just make sure you’re having fun.” He smiled at you as you handed him back to his mom, waving goodbye.

Some fans waved you over to get their things signed, which you happily agreed to. Nico watched you as he signed things from across the street, looking at you with so much love. He loved that you cared for fans even though sometimes they could be overwhelming.

You ran over to him, looking slightly flushed. “Hey, baby, can you sign these?” you asked, holding the cap for Nico as he signed it, then a player card, and then a T-shirt.

Nico smiled slightly. “They’ve got you running all around the place,” he joked.

You giggled before running back toward the crowd that waited eagerly. You handed each fan their individual items, a few recording you. You didn’t mind, thinking they were trying to get a shot of Nico from across the barricade.

Nico called you over, taking your hand as you both finally walked toward the car. He opened the door for you before going to his side, starting it, and taking your hand from the center console. He brought your hand to his lips, kissing it.

As you drove home, Nico glanced over at you. “You were amazing tonight,” he said softly, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand.

You smiled, feeling your heart swell. “I just wanted to make sure everyone had a good time, even if we didn’t win.”

Nico’s eyes softened. “That’s why I love you. You always put others first.”

You squeezed his hand. “And I love you for always being there for me.”

When you arrived home, Nico opened your car door and helped you out. As you walked inside, he pulled you into a warm embrace. “Let’s relax,” he whispered, leading you to the couch.

You both settled in, snuggling close. “I can’t wait to have a family with you someday,” Nico murmured, kissing your temple.

You looked up at him, feeling a wave of heat go through your body. “Me too, Nico. Me too.”

[tkwrites]

Five Days of Joy

Gif from neekshq

Title: Five Days of Joy

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts

Summary: Sarah joins Quinn at his family reunion. There’s laughter and tears and some spicy time as they sneak time alone. Sarah bonds with Jim over the loss of their mothers and explains why her dad loved Costco so much. She and Ellen bond over their partners being gone for stretches of time. A black bikini has Quinn practically drooling. The whole family goes on a beach adventure with Sarah in the lead. More than anything else, Quinn and Sarah fall more and more in love. 

Warnings: Smut (18+ Only!) There are 3.5 sex scenes spread throughout this piece: Unprotected sex - p in v (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!), Oral & Fingering (m & f receiving), car sex, semi public sex if you squint, Angst and Fluff. Really, we’re going through the whole gamut here. 

Word Count: 16,400

Comments: This took an incredibly long time to write. Mostly because it's incredibly long. The longest fic I've written to date. I had so many days to encompass into this piece. There were several times when I thought a day was going to be quite simple, but the story demanded more.

I love the way it turned out and hope you enjoy it!

If you did, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

Anonymous asked: i cant wait to see sarah come to the family reunion

Anonymous asked: omg the famiyl reunion and all the little cousins immediately loving sarah and her siting on the floor with them just playing and quinn watching with a love sick look

Anonymous asked: sarah coming to the lake house for the first time and being so exicted to see the water life there and all different living things and quinn is just sitting and walking with her as she looks at everything! did that make sense? idkkk

Anonymous asked: I've thought about Sarah taking some of Quinns cousins on a little adventure on the coast wading through tidepools during the family reunion. I think this would fit what you're thinking of a little more. 💜 AWWWW! yes this is even better!

nicenamebutitsalreadytaken asked: Some fic ideas…. #2: more Ellen and Sarah girl time! I loved their talks while they got pedis! #3: Jim and Sarah bonding over the loss of parents. Jim filling some sort of fatherly void in Sarah’s life. I know she’s too old for a father-daughter dance, but something of that vibe.

I feel like there were more asks that are being answered in this, but in looking through them, I couldn't find more.

Five Days of Joy

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Day 1 (The Arrival):

Quinn reached over to squeeze her knee as they pulled up to the cabin. Okay, so it was more of a house, but for all intents and purposes, to his family, it was a cabin.

“Ready?” he asked. 

She pulled a deep breath into her lungs and nodded. 

At the crunch of tires on the gravel driveway, his cousins came running from the backyard, all lined up and clamoring for a front row view of Sarah’s arrival.  

“I’m sorry about this,” he said, glancing over at them. 

“About what?” 

“My cousins. They’re all really excited to meet you.”

“That’s sweet,” she said, glancing over at them. 

“They can just be a little much.”

She shrugged, “they can’t be any worse than my nieces were to you.” 

Ellen watched from the porch as Quinn laughed in the driver's seat of the car. It wasn’t that he was depressed without Sarah here, but he seemed a little looser with her beside him — quicker with a smile and a laugh. She hoped he would be a little more forgiving now that Sarah had finally arrived. Quinn always had a bit of a temper, but it seemed like she soothed some of it down. 

They got out of the car and Andrew’s kids jostled to the front of the crowd, bouncing off of and hitting each other in a way that was so reminiscent of her own boys, it made Ellen choke up a little. 

Walking around the front of the SUV, as Quinn pulled her bag from the back, Sarah waved. Even after a day of travel across the country by plane and then a two hour drive, her smile was still genuine. 

The smallest of the cousins, Nova, ran to Sarah right away. She didn’t miss a beat, squatting down to gather the five year old into her arms. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Nova! What’s yours?” 

“My name is Sarah. I like your dress.” 

“Thanks,” she said, swinging her hips as she pulled on the skirt of her striped dress printed with balooga whales. 

She ran back to her sisters, telling them in a whisper that could be heard from the next township, “she’s really pretty.” 

Laughing, Ellen stepped off the porch and gathered Sarah into a hug “I’m so glad you could come.”

“Thank you for inviting me. It’s so beautiful here,” she said as Quinn walked up and took her hand. “I’ve never been to New Hampshire.”

Introductions were made, at least 50 of them. The hardest thing for Sarah to keep track of was how everyone was related. Both Jim and Ellen’s siblings were there, as well as some friends that seemed like they were basically family. All of them were staying in houses rented nearby. On the drive, Quinn told her this was the first year they were bringing both families together. It just so happened that both were planning reunions over the 4th, so when Quinn’s parents suggested they all come together, everyone had agreed. 

“I hope it’s not too overwhelming,” one of his aunts said. 

“My mom is one of nine, so it can’t be any more confusing than my family,” Sarah assured.

“Well,” Ellen said, picking up one of her bags, “lets get you settled in.” 

Once everyone got over the novelty of her, Sarah excused herself to shower, saying she needed to “wash off the plane smell.” 

“You ready?” Ellen asked, finding Quinn in the front room, reading. 

“For what?” he asked at the same time she wondered, “where’s Sarah?” 

“The store,” she reminded. “We’re all going to make sure everyone gets what they want?”

“Oh, shit I’m sorry, mom,” Quinn said, “I completely forgot. Sarah’s in the shower.” 

Glancing at her watch, Ellen wondered if they could wait. 

“Just go. We’ll go later if we need to. I don’t want to leave her here alone.” 

His mom gave him a knowing glance and asked, “is there anything she really likes?” 

“Peppered turkey if you’re getting lunch meat,” he said, “and hot Cheetos if you’re getting chips.” 

Noting them on the shopping list, Ellen asked, “Cereal?” 

“She really likes raisin bran.” 

“Seriously?” 

He shrugged, “she has it all the time.” 

“Okay. Don’t have too much fun while we’re gone.” 

Rolling his eyes, Quinn mumbled that they wouldn’t and watched them pile into the cars and drive away.

By the time he’d waited to make sure no one was turning back, Sarah appeared in the doorway. “Where is everyone?” 

“The store. Mom wanted us all to go together, but I forgot.” If he weren’t so excited to be alone in the house with Sarah, he would call his mom to come pick them up. They couldn’t be far down the road. 

“Oh.” Guilt twisted at her stomach.

“It’s fine,” he assured, “we can go tomorrow if we need to.” 

 “That’s not really the same thing,” she said as she walked to the couch.

“It’s okay,” he assured. “My mom still loves you.”

She flopped onto the couch next to him and took his hand. She missed these simple things - the ease of touching him and the comfort of having him near. 

“I missed you,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder. 

“I missed you too,” he agreed, turning to press a kiss into her hair. 

It was so nice to just be close to her. This summer had to be this way, but it didn’t make missing her any easier. 

The longer they stayed pressed close to each other, the warmer she got. Not only from his furnace-like body heat, but also his smell and the feel of his solid, muscular chest under her shoulder. An insistent want to really feel him was growling deep in her. 

“What are you doing?” Quinn asked as Sarah climbed into his lap. 

Knees bracketing his hips, she settled on his thighs. “I thought that was obvious,” she said, tossing her hair over one shoulder and leaning in to kiss him. 

“Should we go upstairs?” 

“Want it now,” she whispered against his mouth.

“What if they come home?” he mumbled before their kiss could ignite. A trip to the grocery store wasn’t a short thing with their family, but with all of them together, he imagined they’d try to get out as soon as possible.  

“Just wanna make out for a while,” she said, lips feather light over his mouth. “We can have sex tonight.”

Quinn groaned, sinking fully into the kiss in a way he hadn’t yet allowed. It was difficult for him to convince himself to come up for air when they kissed like this, and letting that loose while his whole extended family was in the house wasn’t the best idea. 

“We have to keep this PG,” she said, moving his hands from where they were pushing her shirt up. 

“Why?” he whined. 

“Because your family is coming home. And who knows when they'll be back. I, for one, don't want to face your grandpa with my chest out because you couldn't wait."

“Which is why we should go upstairs,” he argued. 

“Just kiss me, Quinn.”

He obeyed, and as he pulled her hips flush to his own, decided he could wait until that night.   

“Jack, can you go in first and make sure Q isn’t doing something indecent?” 

Jack wrinkled his nose, “ew! Mom, no!” 

“Go,” she hissed, “they haven’t seen each other in three weeks. I don’t want one of the kids to walk in on them accidentally if they got carried away.”

“If they’re having sex in the front room, they deserve to be caught.”

“Jack, just go,” she said, leveling him with an exasperated stare. 

“Fine,” he grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Upon entering the house, he found Sarah on top of his brother on the front room couch. They were, thankfully, fully clothed, but Quinn had a handful of her hair and a handful of her ass as they kissed. Sarah took a deep kissing breath. He could see her tongue, see the blissed set of Quinns features. He found himself smiling, glad that Quinn had finally found a girl to put up with him.

It was probably messed up, but this was the first time he’d found Sarah at all attractive. He felt pretty indifferent about her generally, but appreciated that she made Quinn happy and was willing to try with their crazy, extended family. Now, seeing Quinn hold her brought up torturous memories of Madeline - of feeling her curves and the solid weight on top of him.

One of his cousins came running up the front walk, and the sound of her sandals slapping against the concrete brought Jack back to the task at hand.

“Family’s home!” he yelled before Ellie got inside. 

Shocked, they sprang apart as if caught naked or robbing a bank. Sarah backed away so quickly that her calves hit the coffee table, and she plopped down on it to save herself from falling over. She wiped her mouth, and Quinn pulled a pillow onto his lap. They were looking everywhere but at each other. 

“Sarah,” Ellie asked, running into the room, “Sarah, did you put on lipstick?” 

Her hand went to her mouth, eyes wide as she finally looked at Quinn, who blushed. 

Jack laughed some more. “Nah,” he said, ruffling her hair, “that’s just what happens when the whole family has to go to the store to give you time to get it on.”

Sarah rolled her eyes and finally stood, adjusting her shirt. “We were not getting it on.” 

“Looked like it to me,” Jack said with a shrug. 

"Then you are watching the wrong kind of videos, my friend.” 

Quinn barked out a laugh, and Jack felt his cheeks flame at being razzed by her. He didn't know she had it in her.

After a long dinner filled with grilled steak and chicken and an enormous amount of laughter, Quinn felt even more sure of Sarah. He melted a little each time she caught on to his family's humor, and it seemed everyone loved her. At one point, his grandpa had even elbowed him in the ribs with a conspiratorial quirk of his eyebrows when they were at the food table together.

Later on, he found himself playing games with Sarah and some of his cousins' kids. The kids had begged her to join them, and she went happily. Unwilling to leave her side now that she was here, he joined in, too.  

“Can you show me all the fish?” Nova asked. 

“Of course,” Sarah said, “The next time you come to Vancouver, I’ll give you a tour. I can probably even get you backstage to meet Walter.”

“You’ve never offered to take me backstage,” Quinn said, his tone teasingly hurt. 

“I didn’t know you were interested,” she teased, “Nova obviously wants to see the fish.”

“Yeah, Q,” Nova said, sticking her tongue out at him, “I care about the fish.” 

Quinn laughed but wondered why Sarah felt like he wasn’t interested in what she did. Was he giving off the wrong impression?

“Do you think Walter will like me?” Nova asked. 

“I don’t know. He can be pretty picky about people. When you meet him, he’ll touch your hand with his tentacles,” she slowly wrapped her fingers around Nova’s arm to demonstrate. “Octopus use their suckers to suss out who’s good and bad.” 

Mia looked fascinated but horrified, “what?” 

“Yeah, they use them to taste and feel, and they can usually tell if they don’t like someone just by touching their skin.” 

“Did Walter like you right away?” Quinn asked. He’d never thought of it before. He had to like Sarah. She worked with him so much, they had to get along. 

“He was a little shy, but I kept coming back to do research, and eventually, he started to warm up to me.” 

“Can we see fish here?” Mia asked. 

Sarah glanced at Quinn, “we’re going to the beach, right?” 

He nodded, “on Friday, I think.” 

“I don’t know that we’d be able to see much in terms of snorkeling. It's mostly boring stuff out here - lobsters and fish for eating. It’s too cold for most of the fun stuff.” Mia looked instantly crestfallen, and Sarah continued, “but there’s always interesting stuff in tide pools. I’ll see if I can find us some to explore.” 

Mia beamed for the first time since they’d arrived. Since she’d turned 12, she’d been a bit moody and sulky in that teen way, wanting to hang out with her friends rather than spend the week with her family. Sarah taking her interests seriously obviously meant a lot to her.

“Quinn, there's no lock on this door,” Sarah said that evening as she closed it behind her before crawling into bed.

“So?”

“So anyone — your mom, your grandpa, one of your cousins — could just walk in.”

“They won't without knocking.”

As if on cue, the door flew open. “Is Mason in here?” It was one of Quinn's aunts. Or a friend who was basically an aunt? It was hard to keep track of who was actually related. 

“Nope,” Sarah said. 

“Oh, I’m sorry you two,” she said. “I hope I didn't interrupt anything.” 

Quinn gave her a tight smile, and she got the hint, closing the door softly behind her. 

Sarah arched an eyebrow in Quinn's direction as if to say, see? What did I tell you? 

“What does it matter if there’s no lock,” he asked, rolling on top of her, “we have to be quiet anyway.”

“We can’t have sex in here, Quinn,” she said. 

“Why not?” 

“As much as I want you to fuck me into tomorrow —” 

Burying his face in her neck, he groaned loudly as if the very prospect was painful to him.

“We can’t. Not when someone might walk in. What if one of the kids came in? We’d scar them for life.” 

He lifted his head and pouted, giving her his best begging eyes. “This is why I wanted to go upstairs before,” he said, trying to keep the whine out of his voice. 

“How was I supposed to know a bunch of kids would be sleeping in the family room across the hall?” she hissed, “or that there’s no lock on your door.” 

He knew she was right, but god, he couldn’t believe they were finally together and they couldn’t even have sex. 

“I think we could…” her voice trailed off at the same time her hand slipped between them to cup him over his pajama pants. 

“Don’t tease,” he said, jaw clenched. 

“I’m not teasing,” she said coyly. 

“Touching my dick when you won’t have sex feels like you’re being a pretty big fuckin’ tease to me.” 

“Just because we can’t have sex doesn’t mean I can’t get you off.” Her voice was a seductive whisper in his ear. 

He let out a kind of groaned whimper, tucking his face into her neck again. Fuck this room and it’s stupid fucking door without a stupid fucking lock. 

Her other hand guided his mouth back to hers. He was immediately swept up. He wanted to kiss every inch of her. 

Shivers coursed through her as Quinn’s lips trailed up to her ear. 

“I can’t stop thinking about the way you taste,” he whispered,  banking on the idea that she might loosen up a little if he got his mouth on her. Emphasizing his point, he lowered his lips to her neck, kissing and licking. 

As heat engulfed her, his name came out in a desperate whine. “That’s not fair.” 

When they were apart, it was fairly easy to pretend her own fingers were his, or her vibrator was his cock — they weren’t really the same, but her imagination could make up the difference — but nothing could simulate the feel of his mouth on her. She’d told him this just the week before when they were having phone sex while her roommates were both gone for the evening.

“Who said anything about playing fair?” Quinn asked, quirking his eyebrows. 

Her eyes darted to the door, listening as footsteps grew louder, then faded in the other direction. When she looked back at him, he was sliding down her body, his hands slipping up her thighs under her sleep shirt. 

“Quinn,” she admonished. 

“I can stay under the covers,” he said, winking as he lifted the blanket over his head. 

God, she wanted it so bad. 

“What if Nova came in?” she asked, trying to reason.

“Nova’s staying in a different house,” he reminded. They’d left at 10, her dad, Quinn’s cousin Andrew, carrying the little girl who’d fallen asleep right at the card table. 

Sarah made a frustrated noise and lifted the covers to look at him, “Quinn you know what I mean. Stop playing dirty.” 

A wicked grin took over his face, “this,” he traced a finger over her underwear that she knew were already damp, “would suggest you like when I play dirty.” 

She threw an arm over her eyes, “if someone walks in, you get to be the one giving an explanation, then.”

“I think my mouth is going to be otherwise occupied.” 

A keening, needy noise left her lips.

When he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her underwear, he paused, waiting for permission. As much as he wanted to do this, he wasn’t going to force her into anything. If she wanted to wait, he would. Begrudgingly, but he would. 

Sarah took a deep breath, her mind whirring and warring. Eventually, the side of her that wanted to make a good impression on his family won out. “I really, really want to, Q,” she said, “but —”

The resigned tone of her voice told him exactly how this was going to end. Sighing, he rested his forehead on her stomach. 

“I just… your whole family is in the house. It feels too…” 

If he thought with his brain and not his dick, he understood what she was getting at. It would be extremely awkward if anyone walked in on them. He wouldn’t put Sarah through that. 

“Yeah,” he said, flopping into the bed next to her. 

“But like I said, just because we can’t have sex doesn���t mean I can’t get you off,” she said, running a hand slowly up his thigh. 

Quinn wasn’t entirely sure how getting a handjob from her was all that different than just having sex. The bed would probably squeak less, he supposed, but it would still be awkward if someone walked in. They’d go for a drive the next night, he decided, if they didn’t get the chance to be alone before then. 

Her other hand slipped into his hair, nudging his mouth to hers. 

Even though it wasn’t exactly what he wanted, feeling her fall apart around his fingers while she stroked him and panted into his mouth was still heavenly. 

Day 2 (The Black Bikini):

The next morning, Quinn was talking with Luke when Sarah came out of the house, holding a jug of orange juice as she talked and laughed with his aunt. 

“I think it’s a…” he trailed off, the thought he’d been explaining evaporating completely the moment he saw her bikini. 

It made her look unbelievable - curvy and supple. The black cut beautiful shapes against her skin, and a shiny silver U linked the two halves together between her breasts. The high waistband of the bottoms peeking over the top of her undone denim shorts finished driving him out of his fucking mind.  She even had her hair in a braided ponytail, just like he liked. God, he wanted to put his mouth all over her.

Luke turned to follow his gaze and said, "Whoa."

"Yeah," he breathed before realizing and smacking his brother upside the head. "That's my girlfriend, dick." It felt so good at that moment to call her his. 

Luke held up his hands in surrender, "I'm not even interested in her, man. But if Ky wore a suit like that…" he trailed off, knowing better than to voice whatever he was thinking. 

She walked up the steps to the sundeck then, and he felt breathless with wanting. The metal U winked at him with every step she took. Somehow, she looked even better up close. 

Luke got up, mumbling something about needing to find someone. Sarah didn't catch who. 

She stopped next to Quinn's sun lounger and looked down, shielding her eyes from the bright morning sun. “Do I not get a good morning kiss?” 

He'd left to run around the lake with Jack, Luke, and Brendan before she'd gotten up that morning. She so rarely got to sleep in, he didn't wake her, despite the possibility of getting a few minutes alone before he had to leave.

He shook his head, “can't stand.” 

“What? Why? Did you hurt yourself?” 

He shook his head and glanced down, hoping she'd catch on. 

She followed his gaze, her mouth falling into an O as her cheeks went pink, which made it so much worse. God, why did she have to be so cute, too? 

She sat on the edge of his lounger, and he reached for her, gathering her against him, her back to his front. He wanted to hold her and also needed to cover exactly how excited this swimsuit made him.

She’d expected to lean back and feel his semi against her. Instead, he was hard and hot, fully turned on in a way he didn’t often get just from looking at her. Glancing over her shoulder, one of her eyebrows quirked.

“You come out here in this bikini when I haven't had you properly in nineteen days and expect me to just be normal about it?”

“Nineteen days?” she repeated. She knew it had been over two weeks, but she wasn't keeping a tally.

“I'm serious, Sarah,” he said, voice pained. “Do you have any idea how hot you look? How much you're driving me crazy?”

“I think I might,” she said, tracing a finger over his thigh, following the hem of his running briefs, exposed where his exercise shorts rucked up. 

He was acutely aware of her touch, of everyone around them, of her body heat seeping through his shirt and of just how much of her skin was exposed. His muscles twitched. 

“You're a tease, you know that?” 

“I'm a tease? You're the one out here all sweaty in these little shorts,” she countered as the tip of her finger traced under the elastic, “Your thighs out for everyone to see.”

That knocked him a little breathless. He knew she found him attractive. She often told him how handsome he was, but this kind of lusty wanting felt new. He sputtered.

“We could always go inside and lock ourselves in the bathroom,” she offered, her voice light and conversational, as her not-so-innocent touch trailed to his inner thigh. 

He made a noise in his throat as his body went to war with his brain. “You wouldn’t have sex in bed last night, but you’re fine with the bathroom today?” he asked, more confused than incredulous. 

“The bathroom has a lock. I guess it might be a little weird if someone saw us come out, though.” 

Quinn was struck with a vision of one of his cousins knocking on the door and how embarrassing it would be to have to walk out together, caught red-handed. Surely, his family knew how much he missed her, but there was only so far that understanding could go.

“Yeah.” Taking a deep breath, he mentally prepared himself for another day of wanting. If they couldn’t steal some time alone that day, he’d take a car and make a place for them to be alone. 

“I should go shower before breakfast,” he said, pressing a few quick kisses to her neck before darting into the house, hoping no one was paying too much attention.

All day, Quinn felt possessive of her in a way he usually didn’t.

More than once, he’d pulled her into his lap as she walked by. It wasn’t that he thought his cousins were going to do anything. He knew they wouldn’t, and he knew Sarah would never, but he had this basic, neanderthal-ish need to let everyone know that she’d chosen him. 

Every time he thought he was cool and didn’t need to remind everyone of their relationship, he’d catch someone checking her out, and it would rear up again, demanding to get his hands on her. She lets me touch her like this, the caveman inside him roared each time he did it. She likes me enough to let me do this.

Each time it happened, and Sarah suddenly ended up in Quinn’s lap, she laughed, chocking it up to finally being together after being apart for so long. To be fair, she didn’t want to go very long without touching him, either. 

“Let the girl breathe, Quinn,” his dad teased when it happened for the sixth time, “Jesus.” 

“I think it’s sweet,” his sister admonished. “Don’t you remember being that in love? I remember when Ellen had you that smitten.” 

“I do remember that, but I wasn’t ever as clingy as this guy, was I?” he asked, pointing at Quinn, who was busying himself threading his fingers through Sarah’s belt loops. 

“Oh, you were. You don’t remember mom telling you she’d never marry you if you didn’t give her some space to think?” 

Jim laughed, his face splitting into a broad grin, even as heat flooded into his cheeks. “I’d forgotten about that. That was some good advice. Ellen told me later she was thinking about breaking up with me because I was getting too clingy.”

He glanced at Sarah, only for her to give him a weak smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

Times like this, it always hurt to remember her mom wasn’t around to give sage advice and tease her about her new beau. She often wondered, even after her siblings and uncle had met him, how her parents would react to Quinn and to their relationship. The fact that she would never really know strangled her insides. 

Reaching over, Jim squeezed her hand, a sad, knowing look on his face. He knew what a smile like that meant. “It was pretty terrible when mom couldn’t be there for Luke’s birth,” he said. “I know it’s not the same, but we’ve been there too.”

She gave him that same, sad smile, “thanks.” 

Jim’s sister glanced between them, then seemed to remember. “Oh, sweetie,” she stood up and came to Sarah, giving her a hug. 

Even though it was awkward with her sitting down and Quinn still holding her waist, the intended comfort still came through. “Thank you,” she said, wiping a few rogue tears from her eyes. 

Quinn wound his arms around her waist to pull her flush against him so he could be the one she could lean on. He hooked his chin over her shoulder and brushed a kiss to her jaw. 

“I know when our mom died, I just wanted someone to give me a hug all the time. My husband started calling me a koala,” she said, laughing lightly. “Anyway,” she waved a hand in front of her face, “I just mean to say that if you need a hug, I’m always here.” 

It was incredibly kind. Though Sarah knew she would go to Quinn or Ellen or even Jim first, just because she knew them more, it was still wonderfully thoughtful. 

“I can’t imagine your parent’s wouldn’t be anything but thrilled to see how in love you two are,” she said. 

In a way, it was kind of a throw-away thing to say. She’d never met Sarah’s parents, but, Sarah supposed, she was a parent herself and knew something of raising children. 

“I know we sure are,” Jim said, squeezing her knee. 

“Thanks. I just really miss her, you know?” More emotion than she’d been expecting choked her voice. She leaned into Quinn, glad for his solid embrace.

Jim nodded, “of course.”

“But more than that, I miss the potential. Like, I don't get to know what she or my dad thinks of Quinn or how they feel about my degree.”

“Well, I think I can say that they’d be incredibly proud of you for your degree,” Jim said, “I'm proud of you, and you're not even my daughter.”

Quinn hoped that one day she might be something close.  

“And you know, Quinn won't get to know them,” Sarah continued, the thoughts bubbling up now that the cap had been blown off. “He won’t get to hear my mom laugh or go on a wild trip to Costco with us.”

“Costco?” Quinn repeated. 

“My dad loved Costco,” she said, her voice taking on a dreamy, nostalgic tone. “It was a whole family affair. Every second Saturday. You better keep the evening free, cause we all had to go together. Even after my brother got married, he and Lucy still came with us.”

“Why Costco?”

“Part of it’s because both of my parents grew up in such big families. My dad’s one of 6 and mom’s one of 9. But I think he just liked that you can get such a huge variety of stuff there. He always liked to find the new things, and he felt very passionately about Costco hot dogs.”

Quinn snorted. 

“Almost every gift he ever gave came from Costco.” 

“Like what?” Quinn asked, trying to keep her talking. He loved seeing these snapshots of her family. If he wouldn’t get the chance to meet them, at least he could understand a little more through her memories. 

“One time,” she adjusted to sit sideways in his lap so she could see his face, “he bought me an enormous bag of hot Cheetos for my birthday.” 

He snorted. 

“Don’t make fun. It was a very practical gift. He even printed this big label and stuck it on it that said,” she had to pause to control her giggles, “Sar-Bear’s mouth-killer birthday chips. Touch or die.” 

A laugh sputtered out of his mouth. 

“He got me my first golf clubs at Costco. And,” she emphasized the point by poking him in the shoulder, “he once built a rocket made entirely of stuff he bought at Costco.” 

“A rocket?” Jim repeated, surprised.

“Yeah, he designed rockets for a living and wanted to do it to prove that he could. He uploaded this ridiculous video to Facebook and tagged Costco in it. They gave him a free membership for a year. He said it was the fifth best day of his life.”

“Fifth?” Jim’s sister asked. 

“After his wedding and the birth of his kids.” 

“Can we see the video?” Quinn asked. 

She had family photos on a pinboard above her desk, and he’d seen a ton more when they visited her siblings. He knew she had her dads smile and her mothers eyes. But it was different seeing someone in motion. 

Digging her phone out of her pocket, Sarah said, “I’m not sure his profile is still active… I think he might have tagged me in it.” 

Glancing at his dad, Quinn found the older man looking at him with this proud, approving look on his face. It was a rare thing to get from Jim, and he was most often on the receiving end of it at the ice rink. It was nice to get it away from hockey. 

“Here,” she said, handing Quinn her phone. The screen was cracked in the corner.

His dad and aunt moved to huddle around his chair, and he played the video. 

Her dad, Michael, who was tall and reedy and wore wire rimmed glasses, introduced himself and went through an overenthusiastic explanation of where every part of the rocket came from in the store, and why he chose it, making sure to highlight what was on a special deal that month. He then assembled it with a younger Sarah’s help. Her hair was shorter, cut into a bob that hit around the middle of her neck, and she had braces. 

Quinn paused the video, “how old are you here?”

She took the phone back from him so she could look at the date. “I’d just turned twenty-one.” 

“You still had braces at 21?” 

“I had them twice,” she explained with a self-deprecating eye roll. “I didn’t wear my retainer the first time, so I had to get them again when I went to college.” 

“I think you look cute,” he said. 

“Yeah, because nothing says, ‘hey, I’m old enough to drink’ like having braces.”

They all laughed, and his dad reached forward to start the video again. 

The rocket was finished and shot off. It flew much higher than Quinn expected. “Woah.”

“And that,” her dad said, hands on his hips as he turned back to the camera, “is how you launch into a new month of Costco savings.”

“Oh my god,” Sarah exclaimed off camera. “You’re such a dad!” 

“Good thing I am one, then,” he said, pointing at her with finger guns and a wink. 

Ellen came over at their laughter, “what’s going on here?” 

“We were just watching a video of Sarah’s dad.” 

“Oh,” she tucked herself between her husband and sister-in-law, “I’d like to see that.” 

The fact that they all were interested in getting to know her parents in this way eased a bit of the grief from its strangling hold around Sarah’s heart. As Quinn restarted the video, his free hand moved to her leg and squeezed her knee. 

She glanced down at him, a thankful smile on her face. 

After an afternoon on the docks and another raucous dinner on the lawn, Quinn grabbed a set of keys from one of the hooks in the kitchen. 

“We're going for a drive,” he announced, pulling Sarah toward the front door with their clasped hands. 

His parents and aunts and uncles shared some knowing glances from their place around the dining table, and a smile he knew wasn't going to end well took over his mom's face. 

“Have fun!” she called out. “Use protection!”

“Lay down a towel!” someone else chimed in. 

“Sarah, don't be afraid to put him in his place!”

He felt his ears get hot. It didn't matter how casual he tried to be, they knew exactly what they were up to. 

Sarah pulled him off his determined course to go into the garage. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Getting a towel. That's a smart idea. I don't want to ruin whoever’s car this is.”

He laughed, “it's my parents' car.”

“All the more reason then,” she said, tucking a few towels from the clean bin under her arm and taking his hand. 

The drive took thirty minutes, and they ended up at a lovers lane of sorts - nothing more than a dirt road at the edge of a tree lined pond. They were the only ones there. Sarah tried not to think about how he knew about it. 

“I know this is really fucking cheesy, but can we get in the back seat?” he asked. 

She nodded, glad they didn't go through the whole rigmarole of squirreling over the center console. Car sex was uncomfortable enough. No point in making it more so. 

They both went to their perspective back doors, and she didn’t waist any time, crawling into his lap and kissing him. 

“Sarah,” Quinn moaned when she moved on to his neck. He was so torqued up, his desire ratcheted so high he didn't think he'd ever had bluer balls in his life. He hadn't touched her in two and a half weeks, then they had finally shared a bed, but he'd only been able to get her off with his hands and vice versa because of the bedroom lock situation. Then she'd walked out that morning in that goddamn fucking bikini and he about lost his goddamn fucking mind. THEN it took ten hours before they were able to get away on their own. 

He'd been riding the edge so long that she didn't even need to get him worked up. He felt crazy with wanting. 

“Sarah, please,” his hands, clumsy, pulled at her shirt. She let him strip it off. He reached for her shorts, and she pushed him away. He whined in earnest, in too deep to be embarrassed. 

“I want to blow you first,” she said, voice husky. 

His eyes practically rolled to the back of his head. “Fuck, Sarah. Really?”

“Really.” She gave him a coy smile and maneuvered so she was on her knees in front of him. 

“You can get me off while you recover,” she said. 

“Yeah.”

He would have agreed with practically anything at that moment. She needed a new car? Done. Tuition? She wanted to skinny dip in this pond? She wanted to marry him? Done, done, and done. He'd do it all. 

She made quick work of his pants, shoving them down until he could kick them off onto the floor. 

And then her blissful mouth was on him. She felt so good - warm and wet, and the way her tongue moved made his breathing hitch. Part of him felt 12, ready to shoot off at any moment; the other part of him wanted to savor this. 

Her hand slid up his thigh. He was so certain she was about to wrap her fingers around the base of his shaft that when she bypassed and cradled his balls instead, his hips bucked of their own volition. 

He hit the back of her throat, and she pulled off coughing through the gagging sensation.

Shit. 

Fuck. 

No, no, no, no, no. 

“I'm sorry,” he said. His voice was practically begging. “I'm sorry.”

Seeing the tears she was blinking out of her eyes as she sat up slammed him back into reality. 

He cupped her cheek, “I'm sorry, Sarah. I didn't expect that, and I just…I lost control. Are you okay?” 

She blinked a few more times to get rid of the tears and swallowed. “Yeah, I’m okay.” 

Breathing a sigh of relief, he leaned against the car door. Having sex in a backseat was really never a good idea. They were too confined to get into any of their favorite positions. 

Having sex in the backseat when he was this needy was a terrible idea — compounding all the issues with his impatience. That said, if it was the only way they would be together, he’d have sex in this goddamn car every night. 

His eyes shot open at the feel of her lips wrapping around him again. He wouldn’t lie. The way she was sucking him off, on her knees, ass in the air, was one of the most attractive things he’d ever seen her do. 

“Can I take a picture?”

She pulled back, looking up at him, “what?” 

“Can I take a picture?” he repeated, fishing for his jeans and pulling the phone out of his pocket. “You look so fucking hot like this. I just want to remember.”

“As long as it’s not shared anywhere, yeah,” she said, leaning down to take him again.

Part of him hadn’t really expected her to say yes. His mouth had run away with his thoughts before he could vet them. Fumbling, he finally got his phone to unlock and adjusted the camera settings for the dark.

The app only clicked once before she pulled off. He whined. 

“Hold on,” she said, undoing the button on her shorts and shoving them around her knees. “This'll make a better picture.” If she was going to allow it, might as well go all out. 

As she took him in her mouth again, she perked her ass in the air, showing off. 

“Holy shit,” he breathed. It took him a second to remember his phone in his hand and take another picture. In the dim light, it just barely captured the shadow of the lace. 

“You're so fucking incredible,” he moaned. 

Feeling her smile around him was something he’d never get over. 

Using every technique she knew he liked, Sarah continued on until he was panting and moaning above her. 

Gripping the seats, Quinn willed his hips to stay still. “I‘m gonna come,” he warned. 

Hollowing her cheeks, she sucked a little harder, gratified when he let out the stuttered moan she’d been aiming for. She wanted to milk him dry. 

When he came with a shout, she did just that. 

Spent, Quinn collapsed against the door, breathing heavily. 

There was no rustling or opening doors, so she could spit. As his eyes fluttered open, he asked, “did you swallow?”

“There wasn’t anywhere else to put it.” 

“Damn,” he said, disappointment in his voice.

“What?”

“I didn’t see it.”

“It looks the same as when I swallow anything else,” she assured. 

“It does not,” he argued. “You never swallow.” 

She gave him a look that had him backtracking, “I mean, not that I mind that you don’t, but I just…would have liked to see it, thats all….” he trailed off.  

“I’m sorry,” she said, coming forward to settle in his lap again. “Next time, I’ll wait until you open your eyes to swallow.” 

“Next time?” he asked, quirking his eyebrows. 

“Yes, next time. You know, as well as I do, that that won’t be the last blowjob I give you.” 

“For all I know, it could be,” he said, though his voice was teasing. 

“As long as you reciprocate, it won’t.” 

“I better start reciprocating, then,” he said with a wink, sneaking his hands into the band of her underwear to push it down. He had been dreaming about her taste for weeks, and cleaning her release from his fingers the night before only made the craving worse. 

“I don’t know if in the car…” she wanted his mouth almost as much as she wanted his cock buried deep inside her but she worried it wouldn’t work in the car, at least not the way she liked. She preferred to be laid out on her back so she could totally relax and he could have full access.

Pouting, Quinn stuck his bottom lip out and met her eyes in an attempt to get her on his side. “I don’t want to use my hands again.” It came out a bit of a whine. 

“I love your hands,” she said, covering his with her own, pulling them up her body and to the clasp of her bra. He made quick work of the hooks and pulled it off, tossing it to the floor with his jeans. 

“Plus, once you’re hard again,” she reached down and cupped his sensitive dick, “I want this inside me.”

“Yeah?” 

“Fuck yes. I’ve been thinking about you filling me up for weeks.” 

Moaning, he twitched against her palm. Not bothering to remove them, his hand slipped to the apex of her thighs, rubbing over her underwear. 

Head thrown back, she moaned as her hips ground into his hand. 

It didn’t take long for her juices to soak through the flimsy lace. The fact that he was doing this to her made his whole body feel like it was on fire. 

“Quinn,” she breathed, “I want your fingers inside me.”

“Later,” he said, too intoxicated with the idea of her coming with this lace barrier between them. “I want to feel you come like this.” 

A whine escaped her, but she continued dutifully rocking against him.

He stroked her pearl, then moved down, teasing her entrance with the tips of his fingers. 

She huffed out a frustrated breath. “If you’re not going to put them inside me, stop teasing.” 

“But teasing you is so much fun,” he said, pushing in, just slightly. 

Both hands gripped his shoulders, and she moved her hips down, trying to force his digits inside her. The lace prevented him from dipping to the depth she wanted him, and she whined his name. 

“Naughty,” he admonished, slipping his fingers back to her sensitive bundle, stroking it so slowly that it was more torture than treat.

Her beautiful mouth was open and panting. “Quinn, please.” 

He usually envisioned that word coming from his lips, not the other way around.

Her hips ground down hard against his hand. He pushed back with equal force, and she winced, shrinking from his touch.

“Sorry,” he said, lightening his pressure. He’d been so caught in the moment, he forgot how sensitive she was, “sorry.”

Too intent on her orgasm, Sarah shook her head. Her hand shot to his wrist of it’s own accord,  guiding him back to her. Finding his fingers again, she started grinding herself against them. The sensation of the lace between her clit and his touch was incredible. The fabric was so soaked now that the texture of it was no longer painful. It only added another layer of stimulation.  

Quinn let her control the pace, content to watch bliss take over her body. Her head tipped back, and he leaned forward to lick one of her nipples into his mouth, hoping to give her that final push. 

She moaned his name as one of her hands came up to cradle the back of his head. He felt the other grasp onto his shoulder.

He knew she was almost there from the pace of her breathing, the racing of her heart and the way her hips stuttered. He was still glad when she clarified anyway. “I’m so close.” 

Switching to using his middle two fingers, he used the index to work under the lace. At the first sign of her orgasm, he swept the fabric aside and plunged his middle and ring fingers inside her. 

Sarah screamed. 

Feeling his fingers finally penetrate her as her orgasm began to pulse catapulted her pleasure into another dimension. 

The grip she had on his shoulder tightened, and she chanted, “Quinn…Quinn…Oh my god, Quinn…Fuck!” The last word came out a shout as he brought his thumb to her clit, drawing tight circles around the sensitive bundle still swathed in lace. Her high, which had been easing off, exploded to life again. 

He’d never heard her be so loud before. At least they were several miles from the nearest town and nowhere near his family.

Easing off when a soft whine escaped her throat, Quinn brought his hand to his mouth, eager to taste her release. 

Watching him clean his fingers through hooded eyes, she said, “I want you inside me.” 

“There’s a condom in my jeans,” he said, reaching for the material.

Pulling his hand back, she placed it over her breast. “Don’t care. Need to feel you.” 

“You’re sure?” He knew having unprotected sex without a bathroom close would mean she would be dealing with the aftermath the whole way home on top of having soaked underwear. 

Nodding, she hurriedly pulled her underwear out of the way. Taking it off would take too much time — time she wasn’t willing to give up, not when she was so close to finally feeling him again. 

The way she moaned when she sunk onto him was going to haunt his dreams for months.

Relishing the feeling of having his hard cock inside her again, Sarah paused. Head tipped back, she panted.

She moaned as he adjusted, sending him further inside her. 

“You feel unbelievable,” he said full of breathless wonder. 

“Uh hu,” she agreed, starting to move, easing up and down. 

Feeling her this way reminded him of that day in April she’d showed up at his house to congratulate him on making the playoffs. Remembering the way they’d made love that day, he spread his hands wide, ready to support her. 

Instead of leaning back, she came forward to kiss him. “Want you on top,” she said against his mouth. 

“Okay.”

As much as it pained her to, she pushed off of him so they could rearrange. He guided her onto her back, pulling the towel back in place as he did. She shimmied out of her panties.

Once his hips settled against hers as he slipped back inside her, she wrapped her legs tightly around him. It forced him into a more sensual rocking rather than fucking her hard and fast. 

Tucking his face into her neck, kissing and licking all the skin he could find, Quinn marveled at how good it felt, even squashed into the back seat of a car, she still felt amazing. 

Her hands slid up his back and buried themselves in his hair. Sarah tipped her hips so Quinn was brushing her clit each time he moved. 

She gasped his name. 

He grunted, too taken with her to form a more coherent response. 

“You feel so good.”

The praise shot a mixture of pleasure and panic up his spine and into his mouth, “can’t do that.”

“Do what?” 

“Can’t say things like that.”

“Like what? That you make me feel good?”

He whined, nodding his head. 

“Why not?”

“Gonna make me come.”

Sliding her hands to his ears, she pulled his face from her neck, so he was looking down at her. “Guess you better shut me up, then.”

Eyes widening in surprise, Quinn felt his breath shutter in his lungs. It didn’t take long for him to take the bait, crashing their lips together in a kiss that mimicked the way their bodies moved in and around each other.

His continuous, sensual rocking made Sarah’s whole body quake. Pleasure sparked in her core and rippled outward. God, everything about him felt incredible. His tongue, the hot length of his cock, the way his hips rocked into hers. She moaned into his mouth and he moaned back as if in agreement. 

“Quinn,” she panted. “Oh,” her moan cut off as he thrust a little harder. 

Unable to hold it any longer, she tipped her head back, crying out as her orgasm exploded into her veins.  

Fastening his mouth on any skin he could find, he focused on the taste of her sweat and chased her racing pulse, working her through her high. As it edged off, Quinn slowed his thrusts to match the pulse of her core around him. 

Collapsing against the seat, Sarah breathed, “holy shit,” as a sense of heady euphoria crashed over her. 

Beaming down at her, he settled his hips against hers. Torsos pressing together with every breath, Quinn shook his head, “you’re fucking amazing, you know that? First the blow job,” his cock twitched inside her just remembering it. “Now this?”

She flushed. 

“What?” he asked, laughing. 

“I needed to get you off, so you'd last for this. Don't get me wrong, I love giving you pleasure, but I'll admit, the blow job was mostly for me.”

“Minx,” he teased, but there was no heat in it. He understood her reasoning, and it was smart, really. Plus it’s not like he’d minded.

She laughed, and he bit his lip as her core flexed.

Her legs loosened around him, and she reached up to brush his hair from his face. 

“What do you want?” 

He gulped. “Wanna come inside.”

“Of course,” she said as if that wasn’t even a question. “How do you want it?” 

His brain ran away with his mouth, “wanna fuck you.” 

She nodded. 

It was the only permission he needed. Bracing himself above her, he immediately set a pace that made both them and the car shake. 

“Want to feel it,” she said, pushing her hips up to meet his every thrust. 

Had anyone else but Sarah heard the pathetic little whine that came out of his mouth, he would have been mortified.

“Come for me, Quinn.” 

Each thrust ended with her name on his tongue. When his orgasm finally shattered, he flooded her with a shout. Burring himself to the hilt again and again, he kept going until his limbs gave out, and he collapsed on top of her. 

Day 3 (The 4th of July):

The morning of the 4th was spent puttering around the bay in a two-person kayak before stopping on a far shore to eat the picnic she’d packed for brunch. 

Then they had to get back to the house so Sarah could make her dads favorite chocolate tart. Jim had suggested and requested she make it, so she and Quinn had stopped at the store on their way back from their lovers’ lane rendezvous the night before. She’d never been so thankful she’d remembered a hairbrush. 

In the middle of the afternoon, as the crust was baking, they found themselves in the house alone. 

Glancing out the window, Sarah saw the family gathered at the bay shore behind the neighboring house and locked what looked like an intense volleyball tournament. 

“Looks like the house is empty,” she said casually. 

Quinn perked up. 

She picked up the timer, “we’ve got a bit of time before I need to pull this out of the oven if you want to —” She broke off, laughing as Quinn sprinted around the island, took her by the waist and pulled her against him. 

“Yes,” he said breathlessly, “I want to.” 

She laughed again and pulled him down the hall to his room. Once there, she pulled the blinds closed before turning back to him. He was shutting the door, looking at her like he was ready to pounce. 

Glancing at the timer, she said, “we’ve got thirty minutes,” before stripping her tank top off, revealing her blue bikini top. 

He was going to spend every one of them with his face between her legs. God, he missed the way she tasted, the noises she made when he went down on her. There was nothing like it. 

“Thirty minutes,” he repeated, “just enough time to get you off a few times.” 

He tackled her into the bed, immediately wrestling with her shorts and the bikini bottoms she had on underneath them. 

“And you,” she said, reaching for his swim trunks, “I want to feel you, too.” Before she could get a good grip to pull his board shorts down, he was kissing along her stomach, intention clear. 

“Quinn,” she breathed, “you don’t have to —” 

“Want to,” he mumbled into her skin as he spread her thighs to lay between them. 

A whimper escaped her chest.

“God, I’ve missed this,” he moaned when he finally got his eyes on her. She was already glistening for him. 

“Really?” she knew he didn’t mind giving head, but to miss it? She missed getting him off, sure, but she’d be lying if she said she missed giving him a blowjob more than anything else. 

“Fuck yes.” 

She let out a small moaned whine as her hips tipped toward his mouth.

He didn't need any more invitation than that. Stuffing his face into her center, he moaned, feeling his eyes roll back. She smelled and tasted like heaven.

When he got over the initial jolt of pleasure at finally having his mouth on her again, he looked up to find she'd pulled her bikini top to the side and was toying with her nipple. The other hand was over her mouth, muffling the noises he loved so much. 

“Want to hear you.” 

Was that his voice? He sounded drunk. In a way, he supposed he was. 

“I don’t want to…” she broke off, panting. “Don’t want to draw attention,” she managed. “What if someone comes in the house?” 

Not bothering to respond, he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked. 

Her hips tipped into him, and she moaned. 

“That’s it,” he groaned into her, “just like that.”

“Oh my god,” she breathed as the hand that was over her mouth fumbled into his hair. The other stayed at her chest, pushing her bikini off of her other breast so she could tweak and twirl that nipple, too.

Fuck, she was so sexy.

Two orgasms later, Quinn showed no signs of stopping, despite rutting his hips into the mattress every time her body and breath shook with pleasure.

“I want you.”

He didn’t make any moves to break away from her center. He was practically drinking her release, but his thirst wasn’t yet quenched.

“Quinn, I want you inside me.”

When he didn’t follow her request, she wrapped her fingers into his hair and tugged. 

He grunted and let out a pathetic little whine, but let her pull him up to her. 

Kneeling, he shoved his shorts down before hooking her right leg over his arm. 

“Quinn,” she moaned when he hovered over her. It stretched her farther than she could on her own, but it wasn’t unpleasant. 

“You want it?” he asked, nestling just the tip against her entrance. 

“Yes,” she moaned, head thrown back. 

“You’re sure?” 

“Yes, Quinn. I need your cock inside me.” 

There was only so far a man's resistance could take him, and Quinn had just run out of rope. Leaning down, he caught her mouth to capture her moans as his hips drove forward, sheathing himself in one hard thrust. 

Their shouts crashed together, their lips muffling the sound. 

After only a few harsh thrusts, she was pulling away, head tipped back against the pillows as she panted.

Guiding her hand between their bodies, he instructed, “touch yourself for me.”

He’d usually build her up slowly, but there was no time for that kind of slow seduction. 

“Fuck,” she whispered, body on fire. 

He felt her walls spasm around him and knew she'd made contact with her swollen bundle of nerves. 

“Feels good?” he asked, voice strained to a whisper in her ear. 

“So good,” she babbled, “you feel so, so good.” 

He growled something deep in his throat. 

“Yes,” she panted, not knowing or caring what she was agreeing to. 

He chuckled. 

“I’m almost there,” she said. Pressing a fraction harder, she skated that delicate line of getting off faster without causing pain. 

“Come for me, Sarah,” he commanded. 

She gasped. He never talked like this at home. Something about the possibility of getting caught brought it out of him, she was sure.

Mouth next to her ear, he growled, “come all over my cock.”

She had no choice but to obey. His filthy mouth, combined with a few more punishing thrusts, had her careening into orgasmic bliss. 

He swallowed her moans and trusted her to catch his cry of pleasure when he came hard inside her. 

After riding out their highs, he flopped beside her, and her leg fell off the side of the bed.

“Holy shit,” she whispered. 

He huffed in response.

After a few moments of panting breaths, she asked, “could you go get a washcloth?”

“I don't think I can move,” he confessed.

She giggled, “that good, hu?” 

“Fuck,” he moaned. “It was unreal.” 

“It was, or I was?” she asked, quirking her brows teasingly.

“You always are,” he said earnestly as he rolled over to throw a heavy arm over her stomach as his mouth connected with her shoulder.

The timer beeped once.

“That's the one minute warning,” she said quietly, tucking her breasts back into her top. “I need a towel or something to wipe off so I can get dressed to pull the crust out.”

Fuck this room with its stupid fucking walk in closet that should have been a en suite bathroom. 

Quinn convinced himself up with a groan and found a clean t shirt she could use, “I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly, handing it to her. 

The timer went off just as she was finishing wiping up. She threw on her bathing suit and rushed into the kitchen. 

The back door opened as she was pulling the crust out of the oven. She kept her eyes down, knowing she must look ridiculous pulling a pie out of the oven in her bikini. She hadn't even looked in a mirror yet. Her hair was likely wild, and she was probably flushed and looked over kissed. She may as well have been wearing a sign that said freshly fucked. 

“God fucking dammit,” she recognized Jack's voice, “have Quinn text me when we can come back in the house,” he said, voice too loud and dripping with annoyance, before the door snapped shut. 

She giggled and, upon coming back to the room, found Quinn freshly showered. 

“How did you do that so fast?”

“Do what?”

“Shower. I was gone for like three minutes.”

He shrugged and whipped the towel from around his waist to drag over his hair. 

She didn't try to hide her stare, admiring his hip lines, which were more defined than they'd been at the start of the summer. 

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart.”

Heat flooded her cheeks, but she pulled her eyes to his. “Jack wants you to text him when it's safe to come inside.”

He laughed. “Does that mean we can go another few rounds before I tell him anything?” he asked, slinging an arm around her and bringing her close against him. 

“I’ve got to shower and finish the tart,” she said, patting his chest lightly. “Plus, I think we’ve pushed our luck enough for one day.”

Begrudgingly, he agreed and dressed as she went to take a shower. 

When Sarah wandered back to the kitchen, hair wet, but pulled back in a french braid, she found Quinn at the sink, watching his brothers play volleyball paired up with some of their cousins. 

“You should go join,” Sarah encouraged.

“But you’re not —”

“I can finish this on my own. It’s not a big deal. Go have fun.” 

“You're sure?” 

“Yeah. I actually wouldn't mind having some time to myself for a minute.” 

“You’ll let me know if you want me to come back in?” he confirmed. 

She nodded, and he pressed a lingering kiss to her mouth before heading outside. 

After Quinn went out to join in the tournament, absorbed onto the same team as his brothers, people cycled through the kitchen as they came in to use the bathroom or grab something to drink. Each one of them offered to help, and Sarah always responded with a bright smile and an, “I'm alright. Thank you, though.” 

It wasn't until Ellen came in that the answer changed. 

She was the first one who broached the barrier of the island, coming around to lay a hand on Sarah's upper back. “Are you okay in here, sweetheart?”

It was such a motherly thing to do that it made emotion swell in her chest.  

“Yeah,” Sarah said with a sigh, “I'm fine. Just a little overwhelmed.” 

“Ah,” she nodded knowingly, “it's a lot to take in.” 

“Yeah. I'm kind of glad to have some time to myself.” 

“Do you want me to leave?” 

“No, you can stay if you want.”

“How can I help?” 

Sarah set her to washing the raspberries while she watched the caramel over the stove. 

“Things are going okay, though?” 

“Yeah. It's a little less huge every day. I feel like I’m finally remembering people’s names.” 

“And they're okay with Quinn? I know he's really missed you when you're apart.” 

“Yeah, I've missed him a lot, too,” she said. “It's been kind of a rough go.” 

“Well, it seems like a good sign to me that you miss each other so much.” 

“Yeah. It's kind of weird. I feel like I miss him a lot physically, but I didn't realize how much I missed the little interactions until they were gone.” 

“What do you mean?” 

It felt a little strange to be talking about this with Quinn’s mom, but she was asking. “Like, I miss running into each other as we’re going through his apartment. Like, if I’m studying, he gives me a kiss as he passes by. That kind of thing.”

Ellen felt a knowing, happy smile spread over her face. Jimmy often did things like that to her, and knowing that Quinn had picked up on one of his dads sweetest habits made her heart swell with pride.

“He told us he invited you to move in when he gets back.” 

Smiling down at the caramel, which was starting to turn golden, Sarah nodded. 

“Are you going to?” 

“I think so. I mean, I will unless something changes.” 

“Quinn’ll be so relieved. I’m pretty relieved, too.”

Sarah glanced up at her. 

“He’s been all alone in Vancouver for so long,” Ellen explained, shaking the water off the berries, “I know he’s got hockey and his teammates, but I realize now how different it’s been for Jack and Luke to have each other. I’m just glad he has someone he can rely on.”

Intense pride and acceptance filled Sarah’s chest. She knew Ellen liked her, but for her to be relieved she was in Quinns life was something totally different. It dispelled some of her lingering anxiety. 

“It’s really, really nice for me to have someone to rely on, too.” Before she could stop them, words continued bubbling out of her mouth, “I’m a little worried about living there while he’s on the road, though.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I just…I’ve never lived on my own, and — I don’t know if Quinn’s told you about what happened after my mom died?”

“He mentioned you went through some hard things,” Ellen said, trying to be tactful. Quinn had told her about Sarah moving in with her sister and then her uncle because she was worried about her mental health. 

“I know it’ll only be for short stints, but I’ve never done that before.”

The older woman nodded in understanding. “I think I went through something similar when Jimmy started traveling with his coaching. I had the boys at home, and we were really busy, and at times, I just wanted to rip my hair out.”

“How did you get through it?” 

“I had friends, and I took time for myself when Jim got home. It’ll be a transition for sure, but I think you’ll settle into it just fine. And you know I’m always just a phone call away.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” she said, wrapping her arm around Sarah, who leaned her head on Ellen’s shoulder. “Sometimes, it’s nice to have some time away from each other, too. It cuts out the mundane.”

A laugh chuffed out of Sarah’s mouth, and she pulled the caramel off the stove to pour into the pie crust. 

“How’s your research going this summer?” Ellen asked. 

“Since I’m not in school, and the aquarium is so much busier in the summer, I do more work than research, so I’ve been doing a lot of education tours. I had to re-up my scuba certification this year, so I did that last week.” 

“Why?” 

“Sometimes we have to dive into the tanks,” she said. “It’s pretty rare, but they like all of the zoologists to have it.” 

Ellen nodded. 

“But my research is going well. It’s right on track. I’ve started writing my thesis, and as long as I can get it done, I should be able to graduate at the end of the year.”

“Oh, that’s so exciting.”

“It’s kind of daunting,” Sarah admitted. “I’ve been in school for so long, I don’t really know what I’ll do with myself when I’m done.”

“I remember feeling that way when I was in grad school. It’s just new. You’ll figure it out as it comes,” Ellen assured. “Do you have to defend your thesis?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I hope you’ll let us know when you do. We’d love to be there to support you.”

Sarah beamed. “I’d like that.” 

They finished the tart together right before Jims sisters came in to take over the kitchen. As Quinn’s families house was bigger and more recently renovated, almost all of the cooking took place there. It also didn’t hurt that it had the largest lawn for outdoor dinners to be set up. 

Sarah joined in the last game of volleyball, a battle of the sexes. The girls won, but that was mostly due to the fact that three of Quinn’s cousins played college volleyball and coached everyone else in what to do. It didn’t stop Sarah from gloating to Quinn when they embraced after the game was done. He took it all in stride, teasing her about her missed sets. 

After a cookout dinner of burgers, dogs, and all the fixings, dessert was set out, and Sarah’s tart, despite being sliced into tiny servings, was gone before everyone was done eating dinner. 

Once the sun set, they moved down to the beach to watch the fireworks, which were shot off across the bay. 

Sarah and Quinn shared a blanket. He invited her to sit between his legs so she could lean on his chest, but she opted to sit beside him. She’d always wanted to kiss under fireworks, and sitting side by side made that more of a possibility. 

Halfway through the show, she glanced over at him to find him watching her. 

Their mouths tipped together, and it was even more romantic than Sarah had imagined. Finally, the world outside matched how she felt kissing him. 

“He’s never done that before, you know,” Luke said, catching up with her as they meandered back to the house to light sparklers with the little ones before they had to get to bed. 

“What?” 

“Quinn. He’s never made out with someone in public like that.” 

“Really?” It’s not like they made a habit of kissing in front of people, but they’d kissed in front of both of their families after he won the Norris, and their first kiss hadn’t been very private at all. 

“Yeah. He’s usually more reserved.” 

“It’s probably just because we’re with family.”

Luke shook his head, “No. He’s brought other girls to the 4th before, and he never kissed any of them like that.”

Sarah felt her eyebrows raise. 

“It’s just nice to see him so comfortable with someone,” he said, knocking his shoulder into hers.  

A smile beamed over her face. “You an Kylee looked pretty cozy, too.” They’d started kissing even before the fireworks started, and from what Sarah saw, they never broke apart. Though they must have if he’d noticed her and Quinn. 

His face flushed as he gave her a chagrined smile. “Our first kiss was on the 4th of July. It’s kind of an anniversary,” he said, watching Kylee dance around with some of his cousins. 

“Yeah? Ellen made it seem like you guys didn’t start dating until you started your senior year.” 

“We didn’t. I was trying, and we kind of got somewhere over the 4th, but she didn’t think I was serious.”

“Why not?” 

Kylee came up to them then, hooking her arm around Luke’s waist. “Luke’s so shy at first, I couldn’t really tell if he was into me. And Jack talked to me all the time,” she explained. “He always brought Luke up, but never, like, facilitated a conversation between us.”

“Why didn’t he just let you figure it out?” Sarah asked, tearing her eyes away from where Quinn had Nova perched on his shoulders so she could waive her sparkler higher than everyone else. 

Luke rolled his eyes, “I think he was trying to wing-man, but it backfired constantly. We only kissed on the 4th because Jack was gone.”

Kylee giggled, “I felt like I had it figured out, and then in comes Jack chatting me up again.” 

Upon hearing his name, Jack looked over, “what about me?”

“We’re just talking about what an awful wingman you are,” Luke called back. 

“The worst!” someone else chimed in.

Jack’s cheeks, which were already pink from having one too many beers, flushed darker. 

 “Now that I know him better, I know he really was trying to talk Luke up, but I was just so confused,” Kylee explained with a laugh. “He’s so chatty, it comes off as flirting sometimes.”

“It wasn’t until he moved to New Jersey that she started taking me seriously,” Luke said, casting a fond glance at his girlfriend. 

“I was trying,” Jack called out across the lawn. 

“I know!” Kylee yelled back. 

Sarah wondered how her relationship with Quinn would have been different if Jack had behaved this way. She supposed they were already in love by the time she met Jack. Instead of the overly friendly, flirty Jack, she got the sullen, don’t take my brother Jack. At least he seemed to be getting over that particular fear. He didn’t treat her like a sibling like he did Kylee, but at least he wasn’t as standoffish as he had been and was beginning to joke with her. 

After the kids were finally in bed, some of the adults sat around the living room, planning the beach trip for the following day. Sarah was on the floor, leaning against the couch between Quinn’s splayed legs. His hands were resting comfortably on her shoulders. In an attempt to stop herself from kissing the inside of his leg, she leaned her head on his knee. 

“Mia mentioned wanting to go through the tide pools,” she said. “I looked it up, and it looks like the best beach for tide pools is Great Island Common. I don’t know how close we’re going to be to there, but it could be fun to go.”

“Its not too far from the beach we're going to.”

“Awesome. Low tide is at 5 pm, so it would be best to do tide pooling between 2 and 5 when the tide is receding.” 

Everyone glanced at each other quietly. 

“What?” 

“You looked all that up?” 

“Yeah. Mia said she wanted to go,” Sarah repeated. 

“I just,” Jenny began, “I’m surprised you looked up the best times to go tide pooling for a twelve year old.”

“It was just a few quick google searches. I’d bet the other kids would like it, too. All my nieces and nephews really love it. We might as well go at the best time if we can swing it.” 

When they fell into bed that night, Quinn pulled Sarah on top of him, just to feel her weight pressing him down. “I love you,” he said, mouth sleepily brushing her jaw. 

“I love you, too.”

They fell asleep mouth to mouth. 

Day 4 (The Beach):

“Look over here!” 

Quinn watched the kids run to gather around Sarah, a smile on his face. They’d all been tired, sun drenched and ready to go home when they got to Great Island Common, but Sarah’s love for the ocean and her knack for finding interesting creatures soon had them all invested in the hunt through the rocky tide pools. 

“Mia found a small octopus in this pool,” she said, pointing to a craggy divot in the rock. “Can you see it?”

Sam reached forward, and Sarah gently caught his hand, “we can’t touch, remember? We’re in his house. He’s not in ours.” 

Sam nodded, a shy blush spreading over his cheeks. 

Even the adults were gathered around now, along with some people they didn’t know. 

“I don’t see it,” his uncle said. 

“Octopus camouflage really well, so they’re hard to see, but if you look really closely,” she traced the outline of it with her finger above the water, “you can see where it looks just a little different from the rock, and then you can find the legs and suction cups.” 

After a moment, Quinn could see the creature, legs curlicued underneath itself, rows and rows of tiny suction cups just lighter than the body. 

“And you can see the urchin there,” she pointed to the purple creature on the other side of the pool. “Those are poisonous if the spines go through your skin, so make sure you don’t step on any of them, okay?”

The little kids nodded seriously.

“Sarah! There’s a crab!” 

“Where?” she asked as if she’d never seen one before. 

Sam proudly pointed to the crab crawling along the bottom of an adjacent pool. 

“Good job, Sam. What else can you see?” 

They fanned out and reported their findings. 

“What’s this?” Jason asked. 

Sarah walked over and laughed. “That,” she reached into the pool and plucked something out, “is a plastic bag.” 

“Oh,” he said with a laugh, “I thought it might be a jellyfish.”

“No. Jellyfish don’t like the shallow water, so they usually don’t end up in tide pools unless they get caught, and they look more like a pile of Jello if they do. Most things in tide pools like to be there because each new tide brings fresh water and fresh food. It’s sort of an all you can eat buffet without having to go very far.” 

“Sarah!” Nova screeched. 

She immediately turned around, nearly toppling over in her haste. 

Quinn caught her arm and held her steady. 

“Thanks,” she said with a grateful smile before searching for Nova. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” she asked when she spotted the small girl, squatting over a pool. 

“There’s a star in here!” 

Sharing a conspiratorial smile with Quinn, she made her way over. 

“You’re right. That is a sea star,” she said. “Oh, and look, it’s lost an arm.”

“Oh no,” Nova said, hands coming up to her pudgy cheeks. 

“Its okay. That happens to sea stars sometimes, but guess what?”

“What?” 

“They grow right back. If we come back in two months, she’d have a brand new arm.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

Watching her go from pool to pool to talk to the kids about what they’d found, he understood why the aquarium liked her to do the octopus talks. She was patient and excited and willing to talk about even the most boring of topics. 

He already knew she was smart and patient and kind, but seeing all of those things directed at people he loved made his heart feel fit to burst. 

Her sister leaned over, and Ellen leaned in to hear her conspiratorial whisper, “I’ve never seen Quinn look so lovestruck before.”

“I know,” Ellen agreed, smiling.

“It’s a good look on him. She’s a great girl.”

As they walked back to the cars, ready to get dinner and head home for the day, Jack caught up with Sarah. “Can we do that in Hawaii?” he asked quietly so no one would overhear.

She smiled over at him, “sure. Or we could go snorkeling. There are a lot of really good snorkeling coves around the island. We could find some really interesting fish. Probably even some sharks or turtles.”

His face lit up in a beaming smile, “yeah, that would be cool.” 

Day 5 (Goodbye is the hardest word): 

Quinn let himself sleep in the next morning. Savoring the last few hours he had with Sarah. 

They cuddled in bed, falling in and out of slumber until someone knocked on the door. 

“Yeah?” Quinns voice rasped, and he cleared his throat. 

“Is it safe?” Luke asked. 

“What do you want?” 

Figuring he wouldn’t have responded if they were engaged in other activities, Kylee stuck her head in, breathing a sigh of relief to find them cuddled together but fully clothed. 

“Sorry,” she said. “Ellen wanted me to remind you breakfast’s almost over, so if you want food, you need to come out now.”

When they stumbled onto the lawn, still in their pajamas, someone wolf whistled. Quinn flipped them off. 

After eating, they ended up back in bed, content to hold each other for a little while longer. 

“I’m gonna miss you so bad,” Quinn whispered. 

Sarah agreed.

“Twenty-nine days,” he breathed. 

“What?” 

“That’s when I can see you again.”

Sarah opened her mouth to dispute but remembered Jack’s plan and snapped it shut. “Maybe it won’t be so bad,” she said instead.

“No?” he asked. “Because it sounds pretty fucking awful to me.” There was a harshness in his tone she didn’t recognize. 

Easing away from him, she propped herself up so she could look into his face, “why are you mad?”

“I’m not mad.”

“Bullshit. I can hear it in your voice. Why are you mad?”

Feeling caught and cornered, Quinn blew a breath through his nose. “I just…we’re not going to see each other for 29 days - probably longer than that, and you’re telling me it’s not going to be so bad? Do you not even miss me?”

Shocked, she sat up, moving further away from him.  “What the fuck, Quinn? Of course I miss you.” 

“But not as much,” he crossed his arms over his chest as he sat up, too. 

“I miss you an enormous amount. I miss you every day we’re not together.”

“But it’s going to be fine when we’re apart?”

Sarah felt her defenses go up. “That’s not what I said.” 

“But it’s what you meant.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Quinn,” her voice went hard. 

He glared at her, and it shocked into her stomach. 

 Fighting against the urge to put more space between them, she said, “I don’t understand where this is coming from.” 

“I’m saying that I’m going to miss you,” his voice tipped into a borderline mocking tone as if he was trying to explain something to an unruly child, “and you’re telling me to buck up because it won’t be that bad.”

Damn Jack and his surprise. It would make everything so much easier if she didn’t have to keep this a secret. 

“I didn’t say that,” she said. Anger at being mocked and told what she was thinking simmered inside her, making her heartbeat race. 

He dropped his gaze to his hands. 

Pressing her palms into the mattress, she tried to ground herself as she thought. Ever since they’d talked about the summer and he’d asked why she always ran away, she’d been working with her therapist on sitting in these tense, uncomfortable emotions. Taking a deep breath, she tried to sort through her thoughts. What did she actually want to say? 

“Quinn, I love you.” 

He didn’t look at her, but she saw his mouth twitch. 

“This summer fucking sucks. I wish all of it was like this,” she ventured to put a hand on his knee. When he didn’t shrink away from her touch, she continued, “I miss you all the time when we’re not together.” 

He sighed, focusing on the warmth from her palm on his leg. 

“All I meant was that we made it through this 17 day stint —”

“19,” he corrected. 

“19,” she repeated. “I know 29 days isn’t the same as 19 by a long shot,” also they would see each other in 22 days, but he didn’t know that yet, “but we made it this time. I’m not saying it won’t be hard, but we’ll figure it out, just like we’ve figured out everything else.”

He lifted his head, and to her surprise, the sunlight streaming through the window was shimmering off of tears pooled in his eyes. 

“Oh, Quinn,” she said,  scooting closer to him so she could gather him into an embrace. 

He tucked his face into her neck and took some deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. Her fingers slid into his hair, rubbing soothing circles on his scalp. 

“I’m sorry,” he said into her skin. “I was just thinking about how much it’s going to suck driving back from the airport without you.”

She hummed in agreement. She’d been thinking about the long flight home without him, too. The anticipation of seeing him wouldn’t be there to soothe the ache down this time. 

“I know we made it, but now that I know how hard it is to be without you for nineteen days, it just feels like,” he lifted his head to look into her face, “it feels like now I know exactly how hard it’s going to be to wait twenty-nine.” 

The pain in his eyes ripped her heart in half. If Jack hadn’t made her promise to keep it a secret, she’d tell him right now.  

Instead, she slipped her hands to cradle his jaw and said, “it’ll be hard, but we’ll get through it together. We’ll talk every day.”

“Maybe I’ll come out for a weekend,” he suggested. 

“Sure.”

Leaning forward, he tipped his mouth to hers.

They stayed there for a long time, kissing in that slow, loving way, as if they had all the time in the world. 

When his hands snuck under her top, she let him strip it off. 

It was only when his mouth went to her neck that she remembered, “Quinn, the blinds.” 

He made a dismissive sound. 

“What if someone sees?” 

Even as he thought, then let them see, he knew Sarah wouldn’t be comfortable with it. She didn’t say anything about the door, hopefully because she’d also noticed no one had opened it without knocking since that first night. 

Convincing himself to pull away only with the promise that he'd be back in bed momentarily, he got up to close the blinds. The window looked out into the forest behind the house. He supposed someone could stumble upon it - it was on the ground floor - but he hadn’t ever noticed anyone walking by. Still, if it made Sarah more comfortable, he would do it. 

He closed the shutter doors and slid the blinds up, making sure the magnets caught so they wouldn’t fall open. 

Sunlight crept in through the cracks so that when he turned back to the bed, he found her bathed in a dim, bluish light. 

As Sarah reached for him, she murmured, “lets make the most of the time we have.” 

He didn’t waste any covering her body with his own, welcoming the electricity that sparked between their bare chests. 

They kissed and touched, exploring with a kind of rushed reverence. They had some time, but there was only so long before someone would come looking for them. 

Quinn gently rocked his hips into hers, and she responded in kind.

“I love you,” she whispered, tangling her fingers in his hair as he licked and kissed the sensitive spot that drove her mad. When she’d arrived, his facial hair was just over the cusp of stubble. Now, it was a pleasant scratch against her tender skin. 

“I love you,” he responded, so quietly she felt his lips under her ear more than she heard the words. 

“Quinn,” she breathed.

“I love the way you say my name.” His voice was dim. 

It wasn’t so much that they were trying to be quiet, as it was that this moment was just for them, and neither felt the need to speak any louder than necessary. 

 “How do you want me?” she asked before he could. He asked all the time, and he deserved to get what he wanted just as much as she did. Plus, the least she could do while keeping this secret from him was give him what he wanted. 

He moaned something into her skin. She’d asked him this before, but it still made him lightheaded. “How do you want me?” Not just how do you want sex, but how did he want her — her body and mind and soul. 

“Want you on top,” he whispered. He wanted the vision of her riding him to be the last thing he remembered from her visit. 

She let out a pleasured hum, helping him roll them over. 

They made quick work of shedding the rest of their clothing, and she slowly sunk onto him. 

A quiet whine escaped his throat as he said, “you’re so perfect.”

She leaned forward slightly so her clit brushed against his pelvis with every roll of her hips. Her eyes fluttered closed. “You’re so perfect for me, Quinn.” 

A beam of light caught his eye, and he glanced over. The closet door was open at just the right angle, so the full-length mirror mounted on it reflected her, showing him a side of her he'd never seen before. 

He was mesmerized. Watching Sarah — the sway of her back rising from the white sheet pooled around her hips  — he didn't think he'd ever seen anything so lovely.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” 

She ground against him a bit harder, and he moaned, eyes snapping back to her face just as hers flittered back open. 

The memory of their first - well second - time having sex crashed over Sarah as they held eye contact. 

Moving her hips back to sink him deeper inside her before rocking forward again, she moaned his name. She was sure their emotional connection was a big reason behind it, but no one had ever felt as good as Quinn. The love and acceptance she'd always found in his eyes gave her permission to go after what she wanted. 

In this blue-gray light, she was rendered a painting — a vision — a dream he wanted to relive every night when he closed his eyes.

His hands made a slow exploratory study of her body. Over her luscious thighs to squeeze the flesh of her hips before gliding up the curve of her waist to her lovely breasts. 

The sound she made as she arched into his touch etched itself into his brain. 

Bracing her hands on his chest, she rocked with a little more intent, chasing the spark, now glowing brighter inside her. It tightened her belly and hitched her breathing. 

“Quinn,” she whispered. 

His hand slipped up to push some of her hair out of her face. “Let go.”

“I —” The fire caught, and her whole body tightened as it licked through her veins. 

She constricted around him, and her name rushed out of him as she stole his breath, “Sarah.”  

Her hips rocked and weaved through her high, siphoning his release from him with soft insistence. 

Tenderly lowering herself, Sarah tucked her face into his neck as their skin pressed together with every jagged breath. 

His arms slid around her, keeping her close as his heartbeat slowed. 

“I love you so much.” 

She pushed herself up, keeping him seated inside her. “I love you, Quinn,” she whispered, running her fingers through his hair. “I miss you so much when we're not together.”

“I know.” Tears sheened into his vision again, “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, sending a few pieces of hair slipping out of her bun. “You don’t need to…”

“I just hate being without you.” 

Slowly, she lowered herself to lay over him again, taking care to not move too fast. She didn’t want to let go of the feeling of him inside her just yet. “I hate being without you, too,” she murmured against his lips. 

They stayed in their little cocoon as long as they could, but Quinn was right. Eventually, someone did come looking for them. The knock on the door startled his mouth away from hers. She licked and pursed her lips. 

“Quinn?” it was his dad. 

Breath hitching, she scrambled off of him, taking the sheet to cover herself along the way. 

“Yeah?” 

The door handle didn’t move, and Sarah practically collapsed beside him. 

“Just letting you know lunch is ready, and you’re going to have to leave soon to get Sarah to her flight on time. The airport security looks really busy.”

The fact that Jim was checking up on the security lines at the airport was so tender to Sarah. It was such a fatherly, responsible thing to do. 

“Okay,” Quinn responded, “we’ll be out in a minute.”

He waited for his dads footsteps to recede before throwing on a pair of boxers and racing to the bathroom to get a washcloth for her. When he got back to the room, he found her, still wrapped in the sheet, adding the last of her things to her suitcase. That ache reopened in his chest. They would get through it, but he would miss her every second. 

“I was thinking,” Sarah began as Quinn handed her the washcloth. 

“Hm?” he asked, watching her clean up. 

“Why don’t you have Jack or someone ride along to the airport? Then at least you won’t be alone for the drive back.”

“And what if I wanted to have a quicky on the road?” he asked playfully. 

She couldn’t stop the snort. “You don’t have to, I just thought it might help with some of that loneliness.”

Her care for him stopped taking him by surprise a long time ago, but he was still bowled over by it sometimes. “You wouldn’t mind?” he asked. 

“Mind what?” 

“Two hours in the car with Jack?”

 “I think I can manage,” she said with a smile, “especially if it means you won’t be so lonely going home.” 

Though she was halfway through dressing, he didn’t hesitate to wrap her in an embrace. 

The tender moment shattered when Quinn slid his hands into her underwear to grope her butt. She laughed, but jerked away from him. “If we start that again, I’ll definitely miss my flight.”

Hands on her hips, he pulled her back, “maybe that’s the idea,” he said, quirking his eyebrows. 

Laughing, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, deep and slow, until guilt gnawed at the back of her mind. She pulled back, looking into his eyes. “You know I don’t want to leave, right?” 

He nodded, one of his hands still cradling her rump. 

“I wish it didn’t have to be like this.” 

 He was spoiled having her this way for four whole days, and now that he’d experienced it, he didn’t want to let it go. He wasn’t rushing to practice, and she wasn’t running to school. They weren’t racing to activities or commitments. They got to just be together.

When she finished packing, Quinn reluctantly took her suitcase to the car as she went out to the lawn for lunch and to say her goodbyes.  

To Sarah, goodbyes were always the hardest part of vacations like this. She still wasn’t exactly sure how everyone was or wasn’t related, but she knew most peoples names at least. 

She hugged everyone she could, stopping to squeeze Nova and Mia extra tight. “You’ll come to Vancouver over break, yeah?” she asked. They’d discovered their fall break fell over a home game stint. 

Mia nodded, flashing a metal filled smile that had come out more and more as the days went on. “I talked to dad. He said he thinks he can get work off.” 

“Great. You have my number, so call me when you’re ready to talk.” Part of the way through their beach day, Mia had asked if she could interview Sarah for her science class. She was supposed to ask a scientist about their use of the scientific method. 

Sarah had laughed and pointed out the sticker on her water bottle. “You can’t use this in school. But this is basically the theory.” The sticker had the steps of the scientific method in a circle with the words ‘fuck around and find out’ around the outside. “I’ll give you some more eloquent answers, though,” she’d promised, knocking her shoulder into Mias as they laughed.

As he watched Sarah interact with his family, Quinn asked Jack if he wanted to drive with them. He agreed if they could stop for dinner in the city on the way back. 

On the drive, Sarah made Quinn explain how everyone was related again. Jack jumped in to help when he forgot something, or he had a different way of remembering who belonged to what family. 

Watching Sarah recite their family tree from the passenger seat, a sense of deja vu passed through Jack. Like seeing how she reacted after the loss, seeing her dedication to knowing how everyone their family loved fit together, he understood how his brother had fallen so hard and so fast. 

When they arrived at the airport, Jack took care of getting Sarah’s bags out of the car so she and Quinn could have a few moments alone. Stepping onto the curb, he noticed several girls with their cell phones out, twittering and gossiping. All of their cameras were pointed at Sarah and Quinn, who were sharing a sweet goodbye. It could be a coincidence, but Jack put himself between the girls and his brother anyway. 

When they finally parted, Sarah turned to Jack and wrapped him in a tight hug. He responded in kind, briefly lifting her off her feet. “See you soon?” 

“Yeah.” 

Turning back to Quinn, she threw her arms around him again. “I love you,” she whispered against his ear. 

“I love you, too.” 

Pulling back to look into his face, her hands moved to his jaw. “Only three weeks.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, keeping his voice quiet enough that Jack wouldn’t hear the emotion choking it. 

“I’ll call when I get home.”

“And on your layover.” 

“And on my layover,” she agreed before leaning up to press another soft kiss to his lips. 

Watching her disappear into the crowd was the worst part. He sniffed. 

Jack’s hand slipped onto his shoulder, and Quinn felt a comforting squeeze. 

They got back into the car to head back to the cabin.  

As Quinn pulled onto the freeway, Jack said, “I like her. She’s good for you.”  

Though he knew Jack wasn’t feeling quite so defensive anymore, it was the first time he’d openly said he liked them together. 

Quinn beamed, holding out a fist for Jack to bump.

“So can she come to Hawaii?” Quinn asked as they pulled off to go to the Chipotle. 

Jack choked on the water he was drinking. “I don’t —” his mind scrambled for the reasons he gave before. “I mean, Sarah’s gonna be on every other family vacation until the end of time, right?” 

Smiling, Quinn nodded, glad that Jack was picking up the vision. 

“Can we have this this one just us? For the last time?” 

He understood Jack’s reasoning, even if it did mean he wouldn’t see Sarah for another two weeks. Sighing, Quinn nodded. 

Jack smiled to himself, knowing this surprise was going to be epic. 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[birdiewriteslit]

“so american”

nico hischier x f!reader

masterlist

inspired by “so american” by olivia rodrigo

warnings: fluff, kissing

can you tell i love nico in a hat

You were sitting in the passenger side of Nico’s car with your feet up on the dash. The window was down, and your arm was hanging out of it, the cool wind blowing your hair around your face.

It was spring, and the weather was just starting to feel like it. It had been cold for the past few weeks, and both you and Nico were happy to finally be able to enjoy semi-warm temperatures.

You loved driving around Jersey with Nico. You loved sneaking glances at him while he was too focused on the road to notice. You loved how warm his hand felt on your thigh. You loved how his t-shirt fit you and how it smelled like him. You also loved that he let you have aux privileges.

Nico frowned at you as one of your country songs came on the playlist. If his brown puppy dog eyes weren’t covered by his dark sunglasses, they would probably be enough to convince you to change the song.

You giggled at his displeasure, consoling him by lacing your fingers through his that rested on your thigh. He seemed to accept this, a small smile on his face as he shook his head.

He gave you one last once over before focusing on the road again. His smile grew wider. “You look so American.”

You let out a surprised noise. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Nico shrugged. “You’re listening to country music, for one. I only ever see people’s feet on the dashboard in movies, very American.”

“You don’t do this in Switzerland? You don’t relax with your hand out the window like this?” you teased, making wave motions with your arm in the wind.

He laughed, squeezing your hand as he did so. “We relax. It’s just different here. I like your Americanness. I guess the exception is that you’re wearing a Swiss’s shirt, which you look very pretty in, by the way,” he said slyly, raising your hand to his lips to kiss it.

You felt your face heat up as you watched the smile that spread across his face as he pulled away. “God, Nico, don’t make me blush.”

But that’s really all he did, it was what he was best at. You knew he loved how flustered he could make you if he wanted to. He loved how after five months of dating, he could still easily make you nervous.

The next day, at brunch with your friends, you expressed your utter happiness, but at a table full of mostly single women, it wasn’t received the way you intended.

“I’m serious when I say that I have never seen a more attractive man in my life. Like, seriously, compare him to any celebrity crush you’ve ever had, and multiply that attractiveness by a thousand,” you babbled mindlessly to your friends, who were giving each other looks. “And, ugh, don’t get me started on his accent. It’s so hot, especially when he talks me through it.”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” your friend said, holding up her hand, a disgusted look on her face. “Frankly, it’s rude to talk about this during brunch. I mean, right in front of my french toast?” She gestured to her plate.

Another friend snorted. “I hate to say it, Y/n, but I agree. You literally only talk about him anymore. It’s like you’re gonna marry him.”

“I might,” you blurted.

Their eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Are you serious?”

You gave a small nod, suddenly uncomfortable by the amount of eyes one you. “I know it’s early but—“

“But you love him,” one of your married friends sighed. “It certainly sounds like you do,” she added after getting some looks from the other women at the table.

You didn’t respond, instead choosing to remain silent as the conversation steadily flowed away from you. You but the inside of your cheek, thinking about how you definitely loved Nico. You knew this before today, but with your history of failed relationships, you figured taking it slow with him was a good idea.

You weren’t lying about marrying him. If he kept this shit up, you were going to.

That night, you were lying in bed, eyes on the bathroom door, where Nico was on the other side. In your shorts and tank top, you were a little cold, and the top blanket wasn’t doing much for you.

When Nico slept over, you rarely made it under the covers. He naturally ran hot, and if you were covered by more than one blanket, you would literally overheat.

Finally, he came out of the bathroom. He was wearing a Devils t-shirt that was well worn and mostly likely from several seasons ago. He wasn’t wearing pants, his boxers out for you to ogle at, although you knew you shouldn’t.

Nico walked over to his side of the bed, stopping before he climbed under the blanket to pick up a book on your nightstand. You’d both read it and come to the conclusion that it was a waste of your good money.

“Why do you still have this?” he asked, showing you the cover. “I can’t believe your friend recommended it.”

“I like reading your notes. I think it’s cute how angry you get,” you admitted.

He set the book down and got into the bed, covering you with his body, instantly warming you up.

Wrapping his arms securely around you, he pressed his face into the crook of your neck. He sighed into your skin, his warm breath fanning out and his stubble tickling you.

He placed small kisses up your neck, trailing along your jaw before capturing your lips with his. Between kisses, he said, “Missed you today.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. “Yeah?” you said, smiling against his lips. “I missed you.”

He pressed one last kiss to your lips before pulling away. He brought a hand up to your face, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear, and stroking your face with his thumb. His lips parted, and his eyes were so big and brown that you genuinely felt like you could lose yourself in them.

“I wish you could come with us when we leave.” Nico was referring to an upcoming roadie. He would be gone for a week.

He was looking at you so sincerely, so vulnerably. “I’ll go anywhere you go,” you whispered.

You knew you couldn’t go with him. It wasn’t realistic. But with the way he was looking at you, you really couldn’t hold back from saying something so sappy.

He glanced down at your lips quickly before meeting your eyes again, his thumb continuing to stroke your cheek. “You would?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “I love you, Nico.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise, like he wasn’t expecting you to say it. His lips parted to speak, but nothing came out.

“Sorry if it’s too soon. I know I’m in love with you,” you spoke quickly. “I don’t wanna just assume that you feel the same about all of it.”

He took your face in his hands and kissed you. When he pulled away, he kept his hands on your cheeks and looked at you meaningfully. “I’ve been wanting to say that for months. Trust me, I feel the same. I love you.”

Your face warmed as he looked deeply into your eyes. You surged forward to kiss him again. You peppered his whole face with kisses, and he laughed as he gripped your waist and flipped the two of you over so that you were on top of him.

He grinned at you when you pulled away, his cheeks rosy and his hair slightly messed. “I don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep tonight,” he said.

Your expression matched his perfectly. “I don’t think so either.”

Even though you didn’t confess that earlier that day, you’d thought about marrying him, this was still just as good.

[theemporium]

[11.6k] when in desperate need for a date to your friend's wedding, the last person you expected to step up was nico hischier. then again, he didn't step up as much as he was thrown into the mess by jack.

inspired by 'the spanish love deception' by elena armas

.

“Come on!”

“When I said a favour, I didn’t mean this!”

“You said you would do anything!”

“Yeah, like help change a flat tire. You know, the normal things!”

“Do you even know how to change a flat tire?”

“Well…”

“Jack.”

The boy let out a noise mixed between a laugh and an exaggerated groan as he threw his head back. He was just fresh out of the shower after practice, hair still dripping and cheeks flushed red, when you found him by the trainers’ kitchen grabbing a protein shake. 

Your friendship with Jack Hughes was one made through the bond of joining the New Jersey Devils together. He was newly drafted and feeling the pressure of being first pick, whilst you were freshly entering the real world on your own two feet with no real plan in your head. It was by chance that a friend of a friend had managed to pull you a job with the hockey team. And it was by chance you ended up befriending the new hot-shot player in a sport you honestly didn’t know all that much about. 

Still from the first day, after a very awkward meeting on both parts, you and Jack Hughes had been the best of friends—which was exactly why you thought he would help you out on being your plus one to a wedding. 

“I don’t get what the big deal is,” Jack whined, leaning against the counter that displayed all the blenders and ingredients for the players’ protein shakes and smoothies. “Isn’t it your friend’s wedding? Why do you need a plus one, it’s not like you won’t know anyone?” 

“That’s not the point,” you huffed out, feeling like a disgruntled child as you crossed your arms over your chest and resisted the urge to pout. 

Jack raised his brows. “So, what is the point?” 

“I—” You paused, something bitter and nostalgic twisting in your chest before you shook your head. “Can you do it or not? It’s not like you are running off to the Bahamas on your week off. You said yourself that you were free.” 

“The Bahamas sounds better than a wedding in South Carolina,” he grumbled, his lips twitching upwards when you knocked his shoulder with your own. He looked like he was about to say something else before he paused, his eyes brightening. “So, you really need a date to this thing?”

You shot him a look. “Did the last twenty minutes of me begging not give it away?”

His grin widened, something quite unsettling in the smile. “So, you’re desperate?” 

You frowned. “Well, I wouldn’t say desperate—”

“Nico is free this week!” Jack announced loudly, his grin reaching scary levels of taking over his face before his eyes glanced over your head. “Aren’t you, cap?”

Your eyes widened a little as you whirled around, finding the Devils captain standing a few feet away from the two of you. He was dressed similarly to Jack, in a team-branded hoodie and sweatpants, with his wet hair tucked under a beanie. He looked a bit caught off-guard as he glanced between the two of you, though his eyes lingered on Jack.

“Uh, yeah,” he cleared his throat, standing a little taller. “I guess. I didn’t have any plans—”

“Brilliant!” Jack clapped his hands together. “Nico can be your fake boyfriend to your friend’s wedding.”

Your head snapped around to glare at your friend. “I just needed a date—”

“Yeah, your date is your boyfriend,” Jack retorted.

Your glare hardened. “And I asked you—”

“And I’m busy,” Jack said with a shrug, almost as if he was saying ‘what could you do?’. “But Nico is free and you know each other. It should be an easy solution, right?” 

You finally had the courage to face Nico, who looked a bit stunned himself. If it were any other day, you would have laughed at the fact that the captain looked so lost and unsure of himself, so unlike himself. But right now—with the tightening band around your chest that felt like it would crush your ribs—you couldn’t find yourself to even smile.

“You don’t have to,” you said eventually, when you finally found your voice again and your thoughts were coherent. “Jack is just—”

“I’ll do it,” Nico blurted out.

You blinked.

“I mean,” Nico paused, looking a little flustered at his own sudden announcement. “If you need someone, I can help out. I don’t mind, really.” He paused again. “We’re friends, right? This is what friends do.”

“Yeah, friends,” you repeated, clearing your throat a little before giving him a strained smile. 

And just like that, Nico Hischier—captain of the New Jersey Devils—was your wedding date.

…

You decided that after this wedding was over and done, you were going to kill Jack Hughes.

In your mind, Jack would have agreed to help you out with your predicament, you would have gone to the wedding and had a laugh together. This would be one of those memories that you two would joke about for years to come, like when he almost burned down your kitchen making boxed macaroni cheese or when you called him sobbing because of a spider in your bathroom. 

You didn’t think he would throw you under the bus like this.

And maybe that was a bit dramatic, but it felt necessary after Nico left the room with the promise he would message to sort out the details of your plans.

Your issue wasn’t with the fact Jack didn’t want to do it. If that was the case, you would have understood. Your nagging and begging was mostly just a bit of friendly banter, and you thought he was reciprocating. 

He was reciprocating. 

But then, instead of being a normal human and telling you he didn’t want to do it so you could find someone else to help you, he just threw a solution at you. 

An—in the kindest way you could put it—unwanted solution.

It wasn’t that you hated or even disliked Nico Hischier. Not at all. Your relationship with the captain was just…non-existent, in a sense. Very superficial, if you were being honest.

When you were new to the team, you didn’t really talk all that much to any of the players. Jack was the exception, someone who was just as lost as you—though his extroverted personality hid it far better. But weeks passed and slowly you began to see some of the players beyond friendly acquaintances. 

But Nico just…never really left that label. 

It wasn’t like he was rude or mean to you, quite the opposite. Even though he was the captain to only the team, that caring and kind personality extended to everyone who worked for the Devils—you included. 

He was a good guy. He was sweet and thoughtful and loyal and kind. He cared more than any person should. He was the kind of person people write in books and movies. 

And it was intimidating, in a weird way. 

There was no logical explanation for it. But something about Nico Hischier felt too perfect for your shit show of a life. He was confident and put together and everything you weren’t. 

Jack knew that. Jack knew how you felt. Jack had laughed about it more than once before reassuring you that there was more to Nico than you realised. 

You just wish you could’ve discovered that side of him during a team night out rather than at your friend’s wedding out of state. 

And because Nico was the perfect guy, it was no surprise when he messaged you that the two of you could take his car down to Charleston, South Carolina with him taking the first shift. 

“I thought you’d be sick of being on the road,” you said to him as you stood outside your apartment complex, bags in hand as you walked towards where Nico had parked his car. 

“It’s a part of me now,” he joked as he reached for your bags, not giving you a chance to say anything before he placed them in the back with his own. “I go crazy if I’m not locked in a moving vehicle for more than three hours.” 

You snorted, turning your face away so he didn’t catch the way your cheeks burned in embarrassment at the noise. 

“I’ve also never been to Charleston,” Nico continued, shrugging his shoulders. “Thought it would be a nice chance to take it all in if we drive.” 

“I really don’t mind driving the whole way,” you said, chewing on your bottom lip nervously as you eyed his car. “You’re already doing me a favour, the least I could do is—”

“It’s a long drive, I wouldn’t want you getting tired behind the wheel,” Nico said, his brows furrowed together. “It’s fine. I promise.” 

“Okay,” you relented and took your spot in the passenger seat for the first stint of the drive. 

…

It was around two hours in when the small talk shifted into something deeper. 

“So, what’s the deal??”

You glanced over at the boy in the driver seat, your lips still wrapped around the straw of your slushie you bought at the last service station. Nico had gaped at you being able to drink something so sweet and cold so early in the morning, but you just grinned and shrugged. You didn’t get much of a chance to say anything before he was paying for it anyways, along with the coffee he got for himself. 

Sensing your confusion, he continued. 

“With the date,” he said, risking a glance at you before his eyes returned to the road. “You just seemed…”

“Desperate?” You supplied.

His lips twitched. “I was going to say insistent,” he corrected. “But yeah, desperate works too. Is it really such a bad thing if you go to your friend’s wedding alone?” 

“Well,” you started, still hesitant to say your thoughts out loud when you knew it sounded immature. “Not really. Lucy wouldn’t care if I brought a cactus with me, she would just be happy I was there for her big day.”

Nico huffed out a laugh. “So, why am I here instead of a cactus?” 

“I’m not a big fan of pricks,” you joked and, to your credit, he did smile. But the look he shot you told you that deflecting wasn’t going to get you very far. “My ex will be there.”

Nico didn’t say anything for a few moments. “And you’re…still in love with him?”

“What? No!” You quickly shook your head, your face scrunched up in a grimace. “God, no. Not at all. Never again.”

“Oh,” Nico murmured, though there was still a look of confusion on his face. “What’s the big deal if he’s there then?”

“Our breakup was…messy,” you confessed, wincing a little as the memories you tried to block out returned like an unwanted slap to the face. “It was ages ago and I’m over it. But the last time I saw a lot of these people was just before the breakup and I just wasn’t in a good place.” 

Nico didn’t say anything, letting you continue. 

“He cheated on me.” you said eventually because there didn’t seem like much point in beating around the bush, especially when Nico was helping you out despite being thrown into the deep-end unwillingly. “It got messy within the friend group and I ended up moving away after we broke up to get a fresh start. Not just because of him, but it was nice to get away from all the mess and drama.” 

“So you came to New Jersey,” Nico finished. 

“So I came to New Jersey,” you confirmed with a nod.

“And having a boyfriend when you see these people will…” he trailed off, his brows furrowed together once again. It was the same expression you saw on his face during games, when he was trying to work out plays in his head before they happened.

“I was originally planning to come myself,” you admitted to the boy. “But then I was on the phone with Lucy and she kept asking if I’d be okay with everything and I just imagined everyone asking me the same thing and,” you paused and shrugged. “I just ended up blurting out that I was using my plus one.”

When you turned to look at Nico, you were surprised to find a sympathetic smile on the boy’s face. 

“If you showed up alone, nobody would’ve thought you moved on. But if you came with someone, people would believe you were actually okay,” Nico finished for you, and it should have been unsettling how well he understood. But his empathy and insight were one of the many traits that made him captain.

“It sounds stupid but I just wanted to come here and enjoy my friend’s wedding,” you said with a dry laugh. “The pitying looks were bad enough the first time around, I don’t need them again.”

Nico hummed, nodding his head. “So, what’s our story?” 

You turned to him, frowning. “What?”

“Our story,” he repeated, a kind smile on his face that made your chest feel tight. “You know, like how we got together. Surely people will ask, no? We should have a plan.”

Your lips twitched upwards. “Can’t keep away from the strategies, can you?”

Nico laughed, smiling. “Guess you can’t take the captain out of the man or whatever the saying is.”

You snorted, shaking your head before you settled back in your seat. You thought about his point for a few moments, contemplating your options. 

“I don’t think we have to overcomplicate it,” Nico said, interrupting your thoughts. “You have that look on your face that says you’re scheming.”

You raised your brows. “How do you know that?”

“It’s the same look on your face you get when you plan a prank with Jack,” he responded, smiling a little wider at your shocked look. “Neither of you are subtle. Or quiet.”

“I was just trying to think of an interesting story,” you defended, narrowing your eyes at the boy. “We can’t just have a basic co-workers to lovers situation, that’s boring.”

Nico laughed. “Boring?”

“Yeah!” You laughed back. “We have the chance to make up the craziest love story ever, why not take it?” 

Nico shook his head. “What do you suggest then?”

“A puck was flying at your head and I saved you,” you joked. “Full on spidey sense moment, just caught the puck with my bare hands and you were lovestruck after that.”

The full belly laugh Nico let out made your smile widen. “Caught the puck?” 

“Bare hands,” you nodded. 

“I am sure everyone will believe that,” he teased.

“You clearly haven’t seen me in the net,” you mused. “I have insane reflexes.”

“I’ll let the team know the next time we need a goalie,” Nico retorted. 

In the end, you decided to go the ‘boring’ route. It felt safer to stick with almost-truths, it prevented any possible slip up if the two of you were interrogated separately. And, much to your surprise, there was something quite fun about fabricating a fake relationship with the captain you barely knew. 

…

You arrived in Charleston, South Carolina just after seven o’clock.

The address Lucy had given you was for a massive house by the beach she was renting out for the week. It was gorgeous, over three storeys high and looking like it had been plucked straight out of a postcard. The beach house was slightly secluded as well, far enough from the closest neighbours for all the main wedding party to park their cars outside with no bother.

It felt a little surreal. 

You didn’t even get a chance to step out of the car before the front door swung open and Lucy came running out, squealing as she opened her arms and wrapped them around you. Your chest tightened at the closeness, at seeing one of your closest friends in person after so long of being apart. 

“You’re here!” She exclaimed as she pulled back, her bright eyes finding yours with an understanding shining in them. She missed you as much as you missed her.

“And you’re getting married!” You retorted, watching as her grin—somehow—widened. 

“I’m so happy you’re here,” Lucy murmured before she brought you into another hug. And you let yourself sink into the embrace, to forget everything else until your friend let out an intrigued hum. “And I’m guessing this is your plus one?” 

Your eyes widened a little when you remembered Nico standing a few feet behind you and quickly pulled back, glancing back at him before turning to Lucy. Something deep in your stomach twisted at the idea of lying to your friend but there was no going back now. 

“Nico, this is Lucy. Lucy, this is Nico,” you said as you gestured between each other, hesitating for a moment before continuing. “My boyfriend.” 

Lucy’s shock was clear. “Boyfriend? You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend! You just made it seem like your plus one was a friend over the phone!”

You gave her a shaky smile. “Surprise?” 

Nico, seeming to somehow pick up on the way the guilt was starting to take over you, stepped in and offered his hand to your friend. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. And congratulations on the wedding. It’s an honour to be here, even just as a plus one.” 

Lucy’s brows raised in surprise, her eyes briefly finding yours as she shook his hand.. “Wow, you are a…gentleman.” 

“I guess I upgraded,” you joked, wincing a little when you saw her face scrunch up in guilt. 

“Are you sure it’s not weird that he’s here? I know Tom wanted him here but—” But you didn’t give her a chance to continue as you shook her head, reaching out to grab her hand and squeeze softly. 

“It’s fine, Luce, I promise,” you said, though you weren’t totally sure if she believed you or not. In an attempt to solidify your point, you turned back to glance at Nico with a smile. “I’ve moved on. I’m happy. And I want to be here with you to celebrate your wedding. It probably won’t even be that awkward, it’s been years since everything happened.”

Lucy nibbled on her lower lip. “You’re sure?” 

“Positive,” you nodded.

“Okay,” she said before smiling. “Well, I’ll let you two settle into your room. You’re on the top floor but I can get Tom out to help with your bags. Let me go get him!”

You didn’t get a chance to say anything before Lucy ran back inside but you were hit with a sudden realisation that had you turning to face Nico, an apologetic look painted on your face.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” you blurted out, your cheeks warming as he gave you an inquisitive look. “She asked if I only wanted one room and I said yes because I thought I’d be with Jack and it wouldn’t be that bad, but I forgot to tell her it’s changed. We don’t have to stay here! We can get a hotel nearby or—”

“Hey,” Nico stepped forward, his hands placed on your shoulders to ground you for a moment before you started pacing. “Take a deep breath.”

You let out a shaky breath in response. 

“It’s fine,” he told you, and you could hear the sincerity in his voice. “It would have been weird if we were in separate rooms anyways.”

“I can take the floor,” you suggested.

Nico shot you a look. “I’m not letting you do that.”

“But—” 

Nico’s look hardened. 

“Fine. No floor,” you grumbled before you flashed him a sheepish smile. “I really am sorry though. I feel like you have just been thrown into this whole thing and—”

“I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t want to be here,” Nico assured you, squeezing your shoulders before nodding towards the house. “C’mon, we should go inside and freshen up. Then you can tell me everything I need to know, starting with who Tom is and if we like him.”

And that was enough to make you snort, momentarily ignoring the problem of the one bed for now. 

…

You didn’t bump into your ex until later that night.

In retrospect, you should have expected to see him sooner rather than later, but a stupid part of you was still in denial about having to spend the week with him living under the same roof as you. Another part of you was also hoping he just wouldn’t show up, that he would bail on the whole event or maybe even just show up on the day of the wedding. 

But you knew that would have never been the case. Because as close as you were with Lucy was just as close he was to Tom, Lucy’s future husband. In fact, Lucy and Tom had met because of you two, because of the fusion of your friendship groups which now just felt like the biggest joke ever. 

At least someone benefited out of the relationship.

You weren’t even expecting some big confrontation or horrendous outcome when you expected to bump into your ex. You were just expecting to be a little more prepared, to have time to put yourself together. You knew you would see him at dinner that night, that much was inevitable. But you thought you could at least have the upper hand by walking into the room, hand in hand with Nico. 

What you weren’t expecting was to see him for the first time in years when you were waiting by the stairs for Nico (since being the gentleman he was, he had let you go refresh in the bathroom first). 

“Look what the cat dragged in!”

You hated the way your body instantly tensed up at the sound of his voice. You hated the way he was smiling at you like the last time you spoke he hadn’t shattered your whole world. You hated the way you felt so caught off-guard, so unprepared for a meeting you were expecting to have the upper hand in. 

“Jackson,” you managed to grit out as you gave him a strained smile. “Nice to see you again.” Lie. Lie. Lie.

“Yeah, it’s been a while, huh?” He said, so lighthearted and casual and dismissive. 

You had to bite your tongue when the urge to say something a little more snarky came up, but you would hate yourself if you created a scene. You were doing this for Lucy. You were here to celebrate a momentous moment in your friend’s life. You weren’t here to get petty revenge on something that happened years ago—at least not in the form of bitter remarks. 

“A couple of years or so,” you answered with a shrug of your shoulders. 

“I was surprised when Lucy said you were coming,” Jackson told you.

You frowned. “Why would that be a surprise? She’s one of my best friends.”

“Yeah but,” Jackson waved his hand like that explained everything. “You haven’t visited since you left.” 

And the underlying words went unspoken. 

You haven’t visited since everything that happened between us. You haven’t visited since you had your heart broken. You haven’t visited so people just assumed you were still hurt and inconsolable after we broke up. I thought that was why you never came back.

“My job keeps me busy,” you stated simply, swallowing the acidic taste in the back of your throat. “Lucy knows that.” 

Something quite like amusement shone in his eyes. “Ah yeah, Tom mentioned something about you working in some ice rink in New Jersey. That sounds super busy.”

You bit your tongue. He was goading you again. You knew that. But fuck, you just wished you could have—

“I would hardly call The Rock just some ice rink,” a voice spoke from behind you and you turned to find Nico settling into the spot next to you, his face remaining very…neutral. 

Jackson stared at the boy, his lips agape as recognition clearly hit him. He blinked and then turned to you. “You work for the Devils?”

“Last time I checked,” you said, a twinge of satisfaction sparking inside you at his disbelief. 

He puffed his chest out a little. “When Lucy said you were bringing a plus one, I didn’t think she meant a co-worker—”

“She didn’t,” Nico interrupted, a look on his face that reminded you of his post-game interviews after the team lost. Before he continued, he wrapped an arm around your waist, making sure the boy saw the movement. “I’m her boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend,” Jackson repeated. 

“Yes, that is a word Americans still use, no?” Nico retorted. 

“Of course, man,” Jackson said with a laugh, but it felt forced and strained. He tore his eyes away from Nico to look back at you. “Well, I should be heading back. I’ll see you two down there.” 

He didn’t wait before he turned around, heading down the stairs to the dining room where the rest of the wedding party were probably starting their dinner. A few moments passed between the two of you before Nico finally broke the silence. 

“So, that was your ex,” he said.

You snorted before you winced. “I was blinded by young love.”

Nico laughed at that. “I didn’t realise blondes were your type,” he admitted, something different in his voice that he couldn’t quite work out.

You rolled your eyes before you sighed. “They usually aren’t, to be honest. But Jackson was…Jackson.”

Nico seemed oddly pleased with the response. 

“And he’s a hockey fan?” He questioned, his brows furrowing together like Jackson was a rival team’s game strategy he had to study. “He knew who I was.”

A slow grin spread across your face. “His family are from New York.”

Nico raised his brows before he laughed. “Islanders or Rangers?”

“Rangers,” you said with a proud look on your face. 

“That’s why you originally asked Jack,” Nico mused. “You wanted to rub it in that little more.”

“You bet them in the playoffs, I just thought he would like a nice reminder,” you retorted with an innocent look.

He laughed—that full belly laugh once again—before shaking his head in amusement. Before you could say anything more, he was intertwining your hands together and starting to make his way down the stairs Jackson had disappeared down a few minutes ago.

“C’mon, they are probably waiting for us,” he said. 

And honestly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to pull your hand away. 

…

Dinner was uneventful, though you did enjoy watching Jackson bitterly stew from the other side of the table. 

A sense of familiarity and nostalgia washed over you as you sat at the dinner table, enjoying a meal as you laughed and chatted to a group you once saw daily but now hadn’t properly seen in years. It felt so easy to slip into old dynamics, to laugh at old jokes and tease each other as Lucy and Tom were the first to take such a monumental step from the lot of you.

Nico fit in so well, it almost made your chest feel tight if you thought about it too hard. He didn’t seem to mind the countless questions thrown at him about his job and the team. If anything, you thought he was milking his answers a little just to see Jackson squirm—especially when asked about playoffs. 

Eventually the day-long drive finally caught up with the two of you and you wished everyone goodbye before returning to your room on the top floor. Despite trying to play the gentleman card again, you allowed Nico to go to the bathroom first and tried not to stare too hard when he came out in a tight shirt and flannel pyjama bottoms. 

It took an embarrassing few minutes to hype yourself up in the bathroom mirror before you finally headed back to the room, only to pause at the doorway when you saw Nico lying on the ground by the bed with a pillow under his head and blanket over his body.

“What are you doing?”

Nico frowned a little. “Uh, sleeping?” 

“Why are you on the floor?”

His confusion growed. “Because that’s where I’m sleeping?”

“You’re not sleeping on the floor, Nico,” you sighed as you shook your head, walking into the room until you paused by his feet. “You’ll fuck up your back. Let me take the floor.”

Nico smiled softly. “My back will be fine. Take the bed, schatz.” 

You ignored the way the nickname made your stomach flutter. “I’m not the one who needs to stay in good shape for hockey, captain. The fans will murder me if you can’t play because you have a stiff back. Now take the bed.” 

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Would you have made Jack take the bed?”

“Yes,” you answered instantly before wincing. “Well, I probably would have shared the bed with him.”

“You would?”

“Yeah, like a sleepover,” you said with a shrug. 

“Then we can do that.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“We can share the bed like a sleepover,” Nico said as he stood up, failing to hide his groan as he stretched his back (and ignoring your pointed look). “We’re friends, right?”

You swallowed. “Yeah.”

“Then we can share,” Nico said simply. “Either you take the bed alone or we share. It’s your choice.”

“We may be friends but I am also doing this because the fans scare me and I don’t want to know what they would do to be if I broke their captain’s back,” you said with a pointed look before you climbed into the bed, ignoring the way your heart was thumping as he settled on the other side.

Nico huffed out a laugh. “I wouldn’t let them hurt you.”

You rolled onto your side to look at him, your eyes narrowing slightly. “You better not move to the floor when I fall asleep, Hischier.”

Much to his dismay, he blushed at your words. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“I know.”

You let out a sigh, allowing yourself to stare at the boy for a little while longer before you rolled over to fall asleep.

“Thank you for helping me,” you whispered.

Nico’s soft smile returned. “It’s what friends do.”

“Goodnight, Nico.”

“Goodnight, schatz.”

…

It took a solid thirty seconds after you woke up to realise you were practically lying on top of Nico Hischier.

As your body started to wake up, you realised how warm and comfortable you were. You snuggled further into your pillow, into the warmth and hoped your body would just fall asleep for a little longer. 

It took longer than it should have to remember that pillows weren’t warm before you opened your eyes and found yourself settled on Nico, your legs tangled together and one of his arms loosely wrapped around your waist. 

You didn’t give yourself a chance to live out a waking nightmare and risk waiting for him to wake up in the next ten seconds, so you pulled yourself away from him and then hid in the bathroom for fifteen minutes freaking out.

By the time you came out, Nico was awake and sat up against the headboard. His hair was ruffled and dishevelled, his eyes still hooded and a sleepy smile on his lips that made you want to turn on your heels and have another bathroom freakout. 

Instead, you smiled back and told him the two of you had to be outside in the next hour for the brunch Lucy had planned before both wedding parties went off to do their last fittings. 

Thankfully, no more bathroom freakouts were required. 

The brunch Lucy had set up looked like something straight out of a Pinterest aesthetic board. It was set in the house’s back porch with a stunning view of the beach and morning sun beating down on the sea. The table was set with plates of pastries, fruits and other brunch dishes, all topped with the morning mimosas Lucy demanded was a part of the experience.

Nico barely gave you a chance to settle down in your seat before his hand reached for the leg of your chair, dragging you closer to him until his arm could settle along the back of your chair comfortably. From the corner of your eye, you could see Jackson watching the two of you. Nico had noticed too.

If anything, it just made him smirk. 

One by one, everyone had made their way from their rooms to settle down at the brunch table like you all had done the night before. However, unlike yesterday, you noted an empty seat next to Jackon that hadn’t been beside him last night. 

Before you could even ask, a high-pitched voice shrilled from inside.

“I’m here! I’m here! I promise I’m not late.”

You turned to look at Lucy, your eyes widening in response but your friend only mouthed an apology before she turned to the door just in time for a redhead to wander out onto the porch. 

“Bryce! Happy to finally have you here!” 

You watched the two of them hug but your whole body had locked up, an unwanted flurry of memories washing over you. And just like that, it felt like another situation in which you should have been prepared for but didn’t get the chance to. Another rug pulled from under your feet. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You could feel him lean closer, hear the concern in his voice. And yet, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the redhead talking to Lucy a few feet away.

You knew. You knew Jackson had a plus one, it was the whole fucking reason you showed up with one of your own because you didn’t want to look like the loser who hadn’t moved on. You had been warned that he was bringing someone else. 

You just never assumed it would be her.

“That’s the girl my ex cheated on me with,” you managed to mumble under your breath to Nico, managed to finally turn your head to look at him. 

His expression was some mix of surprise and anger and, honestly, you would have laughed at the seriousness on his face if it weren’t for the fact you felt the exact same. You didn’t care about your ex and you had moved on, but it was still a bitter sting to know he was still with the woman he cheated on you with all those years ago.

You tried to relax your shoulders and act as unaffected as you could as Bryce rounded the table to take the seat next to Jackson—the seat across from you. But any hopes of the brunch going as smoothly as the dinner yesterday went out the window when her eyes landed on you.

“Oh my god,” Bryce let out a laugh and smiled at you, a smile you were sure was meant to be friendly but just made your skin prickle. “I didn’t know you would be here! Luce didn’t tell me.”

Luce. That was your nickname for her, not Bryce’s.

“I guess we are both surprised then,” you replied with a strained smile.

Nico couldn't help but snort, not even trying to hide his reaction.

Her eyes snapped over to him, calculating. “And this must be your plus one. Your friend?” 

“Boyfriend, actually,” you corrected.

“Hm, how sweet.” 

You still felt on edge as the brunch continued. Nico’s arm around the back of your seat was a comfort but it didn’t help the fact Bryce’s gaze on you felt like daggers against your skin. You ignored both her and Jackson for the most part, listening to the stories exchanged amongst the group and Lucy raving about the final dress fitting later that day. It was easy to zone out until the conversation seemed to focus back onto you and the boy by your side.

“So,” Lucy grinned as she glanced between you and Nico. “What’s the story? How did you meet? When did it happen? I want details, I can’t believe you’ve been holding back on me!”

You flashed her an apologetic look. “You were busy with the wedding, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Well, you can tell me now,” she retorted with a wink. 

“It’s really not that interesting,” you said, shifting in your seat when you felt everyone’s eyes on you. As much as you joked about having an insane love story, the idea of even saying the boring one right now with everyone’s attention directed on you made your skin prickle with discomfort.

But even if everyone else was oblivious, Nico wasn’t. 

“To her, maybe,” he spoke up and everyone’s focus shifted to him, even your own. But he was used to this. He was used to many eyes on him and attention directed towards him. “I still get teased about it by the boys.” 

Lucy’s smile softened. “Really?”

“Oh yeah,” Nico laughed, his eyes briefly looking at you before his gaze returned to your friend. “I had a huge crush on her when she joined the team. Like, embarrassingly huge. Jack used to tease me all the time on how I seemed to forget how to speak English around her.”

Your stomach dipped and, for a quick second, you almost believed him with everyone else.

“She always did play a little hard to get,” Jackson mused and something visibly changed in Nico’s expression. 

“And she was worth every second of it,” Nico retorted, the same camera-approved smile he gave the journalists during interviews. “Unlike some people though, I have no plan to lose her.”

Jackson clenched his jaw. 

“How long have you been together then?” Bryce jumped in, her narrowed gaze glancing between you both.

“A few months,” you and Nico replied at the same time.

Bryce’s eyes gleamed. “And how long is a few months?” 

“Six,” Nico answered simply before he turned to smile at you. “Best six months of my life.”

Your face warmed in response. “He’s a little cheesy.” 

“You mean romantic,” Lucy teased, but there was something approving in her expression. It warmed your heart a little at the idea that she would have approved of Nico if he really was your boyfriend. “She isn’t used to that.”

Jackson stiffened. 

Nico’s grin widened and before you could even realise what he was doing, he was taking your hand in his and placing a kiss along your knuckles. “I’m honoured to be the one to spoil her, then.”

Thankfully, Jackson and Bryce didn’t say much for the rest of the meal.

…

You felt like you were in an odd routine over the next few days, but you found that you actually quite enjoyed it. 

The wedding frenzy was in full effect but there was something grounding about having Nico by your side for it all. 

Every morning, you woke up first and found yourself tangled in bed with the boy. It also meant the bathroom freakouts had become a part of your routine, but it was worth it to wake up and enjoy the warmth of Nico Hischier’s hold for a few minutes. You two would end up lounging in your shared room, just trying to fully wake up before Lucy dragged you into last minute wedding nonsense. 

But even at night, you found yourself settled into a routine with the boy. He would go first to the bathroom and you’d go second, and then the two of you would be settled against the headboard, rambling away until one of you yawned and the other one turned the lights off for the night.

It almost made you laugh that there was ever a time you were intimidated by the captain—even when that time was just last week.

And yet, for the first time since you arrived in Charleston, there was nothing for you to do. The rehearsal dinner was tomorrow, the wedding was the following day and it was like you were facing the calm before the storm took over your lives. And it was the first time you could all enjoy the beach without a deadline looking over your head.

“C’mon, it will be fun!” 

Lucy snorted. “For you, maybe.” 

Tom grinned down at his future wife, lightly tugging on her hand but she remained sat on the deck chair. “It’s just a friendly game of soccer. Boys versus girls. Come on.”

“Football,” Nico corrected under his breath, making you snort.

“That is hardly fair,” Lucy argued. “You’ll have a professional athlete on your side!”

“Nico is a hockey player!” Tom retorted.

“Same thing,” Lucy waved off and Nico’s expression was enough for you to snort again. “Fine, we play but with mixed teams.”

Tom contemplated for a moment before agreeing. “Deal.”

“And I get Nico on my team,” she added, watching in delight as her fiance gaped.

“But—” He paused, lifting his head to find your gaze. “You’re on my team then.”

“She’s my best friend!” 

“You took the athlete, I get your best friend. That’s the deal.”

“Do we get a choice in this?” Nico murmured to you and you just laughed, shaking your head.

After more arguing and bickering and negotiating between the future married couple, the teams had been decided. Goals had been marked in the sand, a ball had been acquired and the game began. It was stupid and harmless and it was meant as nothing more than a little fun. 

But Tom and Lucy were more competitive than they let on. And it certainly didn’t help the fact Jackson seemed to have it out for your boyfriend before the match even began.

“Think you can handle tackling your boyfriend?” Jackson asked you. 

“I don’t think it concerns you how well I handle him,” you retorted, feeling the weight of Nico’s gaze on you from across the makeshift pitch like a comfort.

“He doesn't seem like your type,” Jackson continued, always sticking close enough so he could keep talking.

“My type is none of your business,” you stated bluntly.

“I mean, a jock? Really?” Jackson shrugged. “Just didn’t think you went for the airhead.”

You snorted, unable to help yourself. “Funny, I was thinking the same thing when I considered what I saw in you.”

He huffed. “You—”

“Don’t want to continue this conversation, Jackson,” you shot him a look. “I’m happy with Nico. I don’t care what you have to say about it. I’m here for Lucy, not you. Don’t get it twisted.” 

“You’ll never have what we had with Nico,” he said. 

“One can only hope.”

…

You were stupid to think Nico wouldn’t be competitive in a friendly game. He was a professional athlete. It was literally written in his DNA.

And honestly? You felt bad for anyone who played against the Devils because you couldn’t imagine how intense Nico was to play against in a proper game when this was how seriously he was taking a stupid football match that meant nothing.

“NEXT GOAL WINS THE GAME!”

The group had been playing for the last hour, the game was tied and you knew that you would have to head back into the house for lunch soon. But neither team wanted to leave the game until there was a clear winner.

Any semblance of friendliness went out the window as the last leg of the game continued. You weren’t too bothered, more than happy to watch Tom and Lucy mostly fight over the ball and constantly try to tackle each other. 

But your stomach dipped a little when you saw Lucy kick the ball back to Nico. And the feeling only got worse when you saw Jackson making a beeline towards the boy, determined to tackle it out of his hold. Before you even knew it, you and the rest of the party were watching the two boys race down the makeshift pitch.

However, no matter how hard he tried, Jackson could never match Nico’s speed. 

You watched as he kicked the ball, right through the makeshift goal that had been created in the sand. The group broke out into a mix of groans and cheers alike, people clapping and whooping as Nico ran back towards you with a massive grin on his face. 

You barely had a chance to react before he was right in front of you, crouching down enough for his arms to wrap around your thighs before he hoisted you over his shoulders. 

“Nico!” You let out a noise mixed between a scream and laugh.

“We won, baby!” He cheered and your cheeks burned at the nickname. 

Your hands tried to hold onto him for balance but a part of you knew he would never drop you. You patted his back and Nico seemed to catch the hint as he slowly dropped your back to the ground, though his arms remained wrapped around you to keep you close.

“You won,” you corrected. “We are on different teams, remember?”

Nico shrugged. “My win is your win.” 

You snorted. “That was cheesy.” 

“Didn’t like it?” He teased, and your cheeks burned warmer. 

“You make it work,” you admitted, the band around your chest tightening when you saw his face brighten at your words. 

“Yeah?” 

For a moment, you forgot that you were surrounded by people. For a moment, it was just you and Nico stood on this beach, smiling and laughing and alone. For a moment, you could have sworn his eyes dipped down to your mouth. For a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you.

A big part of you wished he did. 

“C’MON, LOVEBIRDS! LUNCH IS READY!”

You blinked, tearing your eyes away from the boy right in front of you and instead turned to look at the others. Some of the group were already making their way back to the house, but a few lingered on the beach. Lucy was grinning at you like a madman with Tom looking equally as happy. However, it was hard to focus on them when Jackson stood a few feet away, glaring at you and Nico.

You cleared your throat, hoping your smile seemed normal as you turned to Nico. “Ready for lunch?”

“Hm,” Nico hummed, looking like he wanted to say more but ultimately just nodding. “Yeah, I’m starving.”

“Scoring the winning goal really does knock you on your ass, huh?” You joked.

Nico just laughed, throwing his arm around you before the two of you began to make your way back to the house. “Running in sand is much harder than skating.” 

“Didn’t stop you from achieving the win.”

“I’m a winner, baby,” Nico grinned. “I don’t like losing.”

…

The football game had sucked the energy out of most of the group, so it was no surprise everyone started to head to bed before the clock had even reached ten.

You were dragging your feet as you followed Nico to your shared room, doing everything in your ability to stay awake as he went into the bathroom first. Every one of your moves felt lethargic and sluggish and you wanted nothing more than to curl up under the duvet to sleep forever.

It was like a cruel joke from the universe that the second your head hit the pillow, you couldn’t fall asleep. And it took a solid ten minutes of twisting and turning before Nico spoke up.

“Are you okay?”

You froze before letting out a heavy sigh, settled on your back as you stared blankly into the dark room. “Just can’t sleep.” There was a pause. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

“I wasn’t asleep yet.” he assured you before he shuffled in his spot until he was facing you, even if he couldn’t really see you in the dark. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Your lips twitched upwards and maybe it was the exhaustion, but you couldn’t even stop yourself from letting out a laugh that echoed through the room.

Nico let out a noise of amusement. “What?” 

You shook your head, feeling oddly giddy as you spoke. “Nothing, it’s just,” you paused for a few seconds. “I just remembered Jack telling me how the team joked that you took on the role of the therapist before you became captain. That after bad games, you went out of your way to ask them how they were doing and being the shoulder they needed to cry on.”

Nico frowned a little. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all,” you answered as you turned to look at him, imagining the features on his face even if you couldn’t see him. “It’s just funny that I knew what you were like this whole time but still…it took me experiencing you to realise how stupid I was.” 

His confusion grew. “Stupid for what?”

“For thinking you were scary,” you admitted in a whisper.

Nico didn’t say anything before he let out a laugh. “You thought I was scary?” 

“Well, not scary,” you corrected, but you couldn’t help but laugh with him. “Just…intimidating.” 

“Is that why you never spoke to me?”

“I spoke to you,” you argued.

“Hardly,” Nico mused. “I don’t think we had a proper conversation until you had almost been with the team for a year. I had to ask Jack if I had done something to piss you off because you seemed to get on with everyone else but me.”

You couldn’t hide your surprise. “You asked Jack?”

“I wanted to apologise if I had done something I didn’t realise upset you,” he confessed, and something in your chest tightened at the thought.

“Oh god,” you murmured, letting out a groan as you raised your hands to cover your face. “Now I feel like even more of a dick.”

Nico huffed out a laugh before he reached over, his palm warm and comforting as it rested on your arm. “It’s fine. We are friends now, right?”

You sighed. “Yeah but—”

“Hey, don’t feel too bad about it, okay? We were both being stupid,” Nico’s words washed over you, his thumb gently rubbing soothing circles on your skin. “And without that, you could have been here with Jack or someone else instead and I would have missed out on a pretty fun week.”

“You’re having fun?”

“Of course I am. I’m here with you,” he murmured, voice thick and full of sincerity. It made your heart race in your chest to the point you almost swore he could hear it. “Plus, it’s pretty funny seeing how pathetic your ex-boyfriend is.”

You snorted. “Not my finest decision in life.”

“As much as I wish you never experienced that kind of pain, I’m glad it happened,” Nico whispered, his hand lightly squeezing your arm. “It meant you moved to New Jersey. It meant that I—that the whole team got to meet you.”

Your cheeks burned but you smiled, even if he couldn’t see it. You placed a hand over his and squeezed back. “I’m glad I met you too. All of you.”

“Bet you wouldn’t have had this heart-to-heart with Jack, huh?”

You let out a breathless laugh. “No, he probably would have fallen asleep before I even left the bathroom.”

Nico laughed but didn’t disagree. 

You don’t remember exactly at what point you fell asleep that night, but you spent a little longer in his arms the next morning. 

It was a risk but you had lost time to make up for with Nico Hischier, even if it meant making up those moments tangled in bed with him.

…

The rehearsal dinner was where everything really hit you.

It had been running smoothly, though you expected nothing less from Lucy. You knew she probably had the day planned down to the minute, and even if the plan deviated, she would have five back up plans that were ready to go. It was just the kind of person she was.

It was held outside on the beach, the slowly setting sun casting the skies orange and pink over the venue. The tables were set to perfection, the fairy lights decorated across the borders and you had truly never seen anyone happier than Lucy and Tom in that moment. Your heart soared at the idea of the two most deserving people finding the happiness they earned.

It was gorgeous. It was perfect. It was the last fucking time and place you should have been hit with the fact that you were maybe, kinda, most definitely falling in love with Nico Hischier.

Lucy had just wanted a calm, laid back rehearsal dinner. The wedding party was just meant to practise walking in and out, before eventually sitting down to enjoy the nice meal set for the occasion. It was nothing intense, nothing high-stress or extreme. 

It was meant to be fine.

And it was, all things considered. Everything ran smoothly, everyone stood where they were meant to stand and there wasn’t a doubt in anyone’s head that the wedding itself would run smoothly. 

But it didn’t feel fine in your head. 

You had taken your place in the line of bridesmaids, waiting for your cue to start walking down the makeshift aisle. You had stepped out right on beat, you kept your gaze forward, you stood on your marked spot and then you turned to wait for Lucy to make her way down the aisle. 

Except your eyes shifted away from the bride and found Nico’s gaze. 

He should have turned his head to look at the approaching bride-to-be like everyone else was. He should have been watching the ceremony, enjoying the love shared between the happy couple you were all here to celebrate. He should have been looking the other way.

But he was looking at you. 

He was looking at you with a soft smile—one that only widened the second he realised you were looking right back. The skin around his eyes crinkled with his smile, his chain was peeking out the open collar shirt and the soft breeze was making strands of his hair flutter down onto his forehead and—

Fuck. 

You were falling for Nico Hischier. 

The realisation hit you hard and fast, it almost felt like you were winded by the thought. It was a small blessing that everyone was focused on Lucy, that they were far too preoccupied to watch the way you stumbled slightly in your spot at the weight of your sudden realisation. 

Well, everyone except Nico.

He frowned a little, a crease forming between the brows and you could see the concern in his eyes even with the large distance between you. You could see the way he tilted his head slightly, the silent question hanging between you as you just flashed him a small smile and nodded your head. 

You had to tear your eyes away from him before your lungs caved in or your heart burst out of your chest. You had to force yourself to remember to smile and focus on the rehearsal dinner. You had to force yourself to remain normal.

Because he was Nico Hischier. 

He was captain of the New Jersey Devils. He was your colleague. He was your newly-made friend. He was here doing a favour after Jack practically threw him in the deep-end. He wasn’t here to witness your sudden and mind-boggling realisations. 

So, when the dinner was starting to be served and he found your side again, you didn’t hesitate to lie through your teeth. 

“I’m okay,” you told him, a kind smile on your face that you hoped was believable. “Trust me, Nico, I’m fine. Just got a little dizzy, must have low blood sugar or something.” 

Because you were here for your friend’s wedding. And he was here to help you out. 

There was no place for your newfound feelings.

…

To absolutely nobody’s shock, the wedding went through without a single hitch.

The ceremony ran through smoothly with pretty vows and sweet kisses exchanged between the newly married couple. As the reception rolled around, speeches were given, laughs were shared and dinner was served as the guests all enjoyed the union of Lucy and Tom and their love. 

It was sweet. It was perfect. It was everything your best friend deserved for her wedding.

It didn’t take long after the dinner for the first dance to commence, a soft smile in place as you watched Tom and Lucy softly sway to their chosen song. They looked lost in their own world, so caught up in each other like they forgot everyone else existed. 

A pang of longing hit you but you shoved it away. 

It was somewhere between your third and fourth glass of wine when Lucy found you, dragging you towards the dance floor with some halfhearted rambles about wanting to get pictures of all the bridesmaids and groomsmen dancing before you all got shit-faced drunk.

It was your unfortunate luck that the photographer paired you with Jackson before you had the chance to disagree, to escape the way Bryce was glaring at you like you had chosen him.

“She isn’t you.” 

You tried to keep your eyes anywhere but his face, to try and focus on something other than his hands on your waist. You thought you could zone out and that maybe the song would pass quickly, but the universe had other plans for you.

“It’s not like how it was when I was with you,” Jackson continued. 

“What do you genuinely think this conversation is going to achieve?” You asked him, gaining the courage to lift your head to look him in the eyes. You kept your voice down to avoid attention, to avoid creating a scene. “We’re done. We were done years ago when you chose to throw our relationship down the drain. I’ve moved on, you should too.”

Jackson shot you a look. “Tell me you haven’t felt it this week. Tell me you don’t feel the pull—”

“I don’t,” you stated bluntly. “And I have no interest in what you’ve felt this week. I don’t care.”

He frowned. “Because of your lil’ hockey player?”

“Little isn’t the word I’d use to describe him but no,” you answered honestly. “Not because of him but because of you. You ruined things, Jackson, and I moved on with my life. Accept that.” 

Jackon’s frown only deepend. He opened his mouth and you could only imagine what he was going to say, could only imagine what bullshit he was about to pull out of his ass. But before he got the chance, a firm hand landed on his shoulder to halt his movements. 

“Mind if I cut in?” 

Jackson glanced over his shoulder to see Nico standing there, smiling like nothing was wrong, like he wouldn’t happily put Jackson in his place if he disagreed. And maybe your words got through to him or maybe Jackson accepted it was not worth arguing with a man over fifty pounds heavier and four inches taller than him. 

He turned to look at you, saying nothing as his jaw clenched in response before he wandered off. 

Nico hardly wasted any time in taking up Jackson’s spot, one arm wound around your waist and tugging you close whilst the other intertwined with your hand. He looked down at you, eyes full of concern, fondness and something else as he noted how tense you were.

“You okay?” His voice soft and quiet but, fuck, it was exactly what you needed to hear. “He didn’t say anything, right? Because I can—”

“I handled it,” you assured him with a soft smile, squeezing his hand to punctuate your point. “But thank you for being my knight in shining armour.”

“Selfishly, I wanted to do it the second the dance started,” Nico admitted, and if he hadn’t been drinking all night, you would have assumed the pink flush to his cheeks was a blush. “I mean, you’re my date after all. Surely first pick dancing rights go to me, no?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “First pick in the draft, now in dancing…you’re quite the man, Hischier.”

“I’m consistent,” he retorted, tugging you that little bit closer until you had the excuse to rest your head against his chest. 

And for a moment, with your cheek pressed against his shirt and his presence engulfing, you let yourself pretend this moment would last forever. You let yourself enjoy the last day Nico Hischier would pretend to be your boyfriend and imagined a world where it wasn’t really pretend at all.

…

Lucy wasn’t happy that you had to leave early the next morning, but she understood that both of you had to return to New Jersey.

It was dreadfully early—far too fucking early with how late you stayed up the night before—to start an eleven hour road trip, but Nico had just smiled and told you to nap the first few hours whilst he drove the first stint of the journey. 

You knew he was right, that you should have rested and gotten a little sleep but you couldn’t bring yourself to stay asleep for long. You felt like you were wasting time, you were wasting precious hours in this little bubble you had created with Nico that would burst by the time you both returned to Newark. 

So, you did what every normal and sane person did and stocked up on coffee and energy drinks at the next service station stop to keep you fuelled through the drive.

It was no different to the drive down to Charleston except for a shift in the energy. It was easier, in a sense. On the way down, Nico was essentially a glorified stranger to you that you had only shared a number of conversations with. But it felt different now, it felt like you actually knew the boy in the seat beside you. 

And it was bittersweet in that sense, too.

Because you loved this. You loved how easy it was to talk to him. You loved how you got to see the side of Nico Hischier that enamoured the fans, the team and the league. You loved that you got your own special version of him in the last week. And you didn’t want to lose that, you didn’t know if you would ever see this version of Nico again once you reached New Jersey. 

And as the hours passed and the closer you reached your destination, it felt like Nico realised the same. The car was tense and thick with tension, one that went unspoken but reeked of longing and the desire to cling onto the bubble the two of you created over the last week.

It was there, lingering and stewing and, yet, neither of you said anything about it once you reached your apartment complex.

“Thank you,” you said for what felt like the millionth time that weekend, but it was necessary. It had to be said. It meant so much more.

Thank you for coming with me this weekend. Thank you for backing me up. Thank you for being a good friend. Thank you for showing me who you really are even if it’s going to fuck with my head for the rest of my life. Thank you for being you.

“Any time,” he said, the words just as heavy as yours. You wish you knew what he meant by them. “Do you need help with your bags? I can—”

“I’ve got them,” you assured him.

His brows furrowed together. “Are you sure? I—”

“I’m sure,” you said, clearing your throat and finding the courage to finally look at him. You pushed away the stupidest and strangest urge to cry. “Well, see you on Monday then?”

Nico frowned a little but nodded. “See you Monday.”

It felt harsh being so blunt, so straightforward and direct. But you knew you needed to get out of that car as quickly as you could. Because you had spent the last week with Nico by your side the whole time, basked in the warmth of him as a person, and you knew all it would take was a few more moments alone with him for you to blurt out something stupid.

You knew you needed to get out of there and just be alone. To lock yourself in your apartment over the next twenty-four hours before you had to return to work, to attempt to wrap your head around the flurry of emotions bursting inside of you. You knew you needed to get behind that door before you had the urge to run back down to his car.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to look back at his car, to see if he drove off, as you reached the door of your apartment complex. You forced yourself to keep your gaze ahead, to put one foot in front of the other until you reached your apartment. You felt your body moving on autopilot as you unlocked the door, stepped inside and dumped the bags you had dragged up. 

And then, the overwhelming realisation and memories of the last few days washed over you. 

Fuck. You were in love with him. You were properly in love with him. You were going to have to go into work on Monday and see him there and pretend everything is normal. You are going to have to pretend for the rest of your life or until your feelings go away. You were going to—

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

You paused, the heel of your palm pressed to the centre of your chest as you tried to regulate your breaths. You had half the mind to ignore the knocks, to hope the person on the other side of the door just left you alone so you could curl up onto your couch with a fluffy blanket and a tub of ice cream.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

But you had a nagging feeling this person wouldn’t leave.

You avoided the mirror in your hallway as you headed back towards your front door, twisting the handle and pulling the door back with the full expectation of seeing one of your neighbours on the other side. 

Instead, it was a panting and breathless Nico.

“Nico?”

“I can’t pretend anymore,” he blurted out, beyond the point of caring whether he was too blunt or straightforward. “I can’t pretend because I have spent the last few years pretending and I’m tired of it.”

Your brows furrowed together. “What are you—”

“I wasn’t lying when I told your friends,” Nico continued, his eyes never leaving yours. It was almost like he was afraid to look away. It was like he was scared you would disappear if he did, or he would lose the confidence he had to say what he had been feeling since he first saw you. “I had the biggest crush on you when you joined the team years ago.”

Your lips parted in surprise, but no words came out. No words were needed as Nico continued.

“And Jack knew. Everyone fucking knew how I felt about you,” he admitted with a laugh, one that was a little dry and self-depricating. “They knew how I felt about you before you even spoke to me. And then Jack saw the opportunity and he tried to help me but it just made everything worse.”

Your heart twisted at his words.

“Because it showed me what life would be like if I was actually yours,” Nico whispered, voice cracking and emotions raw. “It showed me what it would be like for you to hold my hand and call me your boyfriend and introduce me to your friends like I’m this huge part of your life. And now it fucking sucks that it’s not true, that it’s over. And I can’t just keep going on in life and seeing you at work on Monday and acting like I’m still okay with pretending—”

You kissed him.

He was standing at your doorstep confessing a million different things at once, confessing things that had your head spinning and your brain racing to catch up with. But he was standing there and he felt the same way and you just couldn’t help yourself but to grab his face and kiss him.

Nico sunk into the kiss like it was what his body was made for, like an instinctive reaction to grip your hips and pull you closer. Your arms slowly wound around his neck, tugging him down to deepen the kiss as every racing thought in your head stopped and there was just him, him, him.

“I don’t want to pretend either,” you murmured against his lips because you genuinely didn’t have it within you to pull away properly, to put any more distance between you.

You could feel him smile against your lips. “No?”

“No,” you swallowed harshly as you lightly nudged his nose with your own. “I don’t want to go back to the way everything was before the wedding. I don’t want you to become a stranger in my life.”

“Never, schatz,” he murmured softly before leaning down to press his lips against yours again, slow and purposeful. 

You let him slowly lead you back into your apartment, listened to the way he kicked the door shut with his boot as he led you towards the coach in your living room. You could feel his smile against your own as you fell back onto the cushions, his body a comfortable and familiar weight on you as memories of your mornings together flashed through your mind.

“Oh god.”

Nico pulled back, holding his weight on his elbows as he looked down at you with a frown. “What?”

“Jack is going to be so fucking smug,” you grumbled, playfully groaning whilst the boy on top of you just laughed. 

“You’re something else,” Nico murmured with a grin.

You raised your brows. “Good something?” 

“Best something,” Nico corrected before he leaned down to kiss you again. 

.

[puckinghischier]

Falling

Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary: reader gets hurt and nico is worried about her

notes: y’all i ain’t gonna lie, i went through a bit of a rollercoaster while writing this. i loved it at first, then halfway through started hating it, then somehow started loving it again towards the end. so if it seems a little all over place i’m sorry. also i know very little about how a dislocated shoulder works, so just pretended i didn’t if i got anything wrong. i hope y’all enjoy it!! happy reading!! 🫶🏼

request: from my 400 follower celly - “A hears that B got hurt and rushes over in a panic to see if they are okay” where reader maybe gets in an accident or gets hurt in their sport (nothing major). Bonus points if you add “I can braid your hair for you- I mean, only if you want.”

[4.5k]

part 2

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. Nothing’s broken, just a nasty dislocation,” you attempt to calm your mother’s nerves, trying to unlock your apartment door with your good arm while balancing your phone between your cheek and shoulder. “They reset it for me and told me to follow up with my primary care on Monday. Gave me some pain meds and sent me on my way.”

“Well, what about until then? What if you need help? What about work? How will you drive?” she rapid fires questions at you.

“I’ll figure it out, don’t worry. Since it was a work-related injury, I’ll still get paid. And they’re paying all of the medical bills, so that’s all taken care of,” you make your way into your apartment, shutting the door with your foot behind you. “Everything else I’ll handle as it comes.”

She doesn’t seem satisfied with your answer, tsking into her phone, making you picture her trademark displeased headshake.

“What about Nico? Why don’t you stay with him until you’re back to 100%? I’m sure he’d be willing to help out,” she suggests, her tone switching from worried to suggestive.

You roll your eyes, knowing exactly where this conversation is headed.

“Mom, how many times do I have to tell you, Nico and I are just friends. We work together. Just because you think you saw him look at me a certain way when you were visiting doesn’t mean I have to call him every time something goes wrong,” you tell her, placing your bag on your kitchen table.

Ever since your mom came in a few months ago to visit, she’s been on your case about making a move on Nico, it all starting when she witnessed Nico helping you across the ice during a pre-game practice while trying to get some action shots.

You work as a photographer for the Devils, not realizing that being able to ice skate would have been a nice addition to your resume.

Your college advisor arranged the interview for you right before graduation. You had no previous knowledge of hockey, having come from a football family. You told your advisor this, but she insisted you didn’t have to know anything about a sport to be able to take good pictures of it.

During the interview, you made sure to inform your now boss that you didn’t know how to skate, hoping it wouldn’t be a problem. He assured you that you could take pictures from the stands or the players bench, the chance of you having to step onto the ice slim.

For the first few months of your job, it was smooth sailing. You were mostly taking pictures from the camera holes in the glass or being told to cover locker room and arrival pictures. You worked with one other photographer, a seasoned sports photography veteran named Phil. Phil was a New Jersey native, having grown up skating, so he took over the duties of any major action shots the director wanted from on the ice.

Unfortunately for you, Phil’s wife had convinced him to retire early, losing his help right before the league’s short Christmas break.

Seeing as they had just hired you, and it was the middle of the season, the hunt for a replacement for Phil was put on the backburner, more important team matters taking precedence.

You were forced to take over Phil’s duties, meaning you were now responsible for any on the ice shots. You had found a way to slowly scoot across the perimeter of the rink, staying out of the way while also getting the shots you needed.

Your system was working well until the morning of a gameday, having gotten permission from your boss to bring your mother along to this particular practice, wanting to show her all aspects of your job.

For this particular game, the players were especially focused on practicing their skills and running drills during morning skate. You were doing your typical shuffle while clutching the edge of the waist-high wall when someone came zooming past you, causing your feet to start sliding uncontrollably, not being able to find your footing on the slick ice.

You felt the moment you were about to fall, waiting for the impact of your butt on the cold ice, but it never came. You felt yourself fall into a body covered by plastic pads, gloved hands shooting out to grab your upper arms.

You looked up, seeing Nico smiling down at you in amusement.

“It’s a bit slippery out here, huh?” he jokes, making sure you’re standing steady on your feet before letting go of you.

“Well, we are standing on ice, so….” You trail off, grabbing onto the wooden ledge again, preventing another near fall.

Nico laughs, looking down and shuffling his skates back and forth.

“Well would you look at that? We are on ice ” He flashes a smile, looking back up at you.

You stick your tongue out at him, earning another chuckle from the team’s Captain.

“You know, most people use these great things called ice skates when they try to walk on ice,” he tells you, lifting one skate up for emphasis.

Rolling your eyes, you scoff out a “Oh wow, why didn’t I ever think of that?”

“Just some food for thought,” Nico shrugged as he placed his foot back down on the ice, skating in a little circle, as if to say “See, told you so.”

You let go of the ledge to cross your arms, forgetting that you needed the stability. When you try to shift your weight from one leg to the other, you lose your footing again, this time falling forward into Nico. You let the camera in your hands fall, grabbing onto his biceps to stay upright, thankful for the camera strap around your neck.

His hands shoot out to grab your forearms.

“You know the sad thing is, even with the skates, I’d still be as clumsy, considering I have absolutely no idea how to use them,” you tell him, the two of you still holding on to one another.

Nico shakes his head at you, placing one of your hands on his forearm, moving you from in front of him to beside of him.

He starts slowly skating towards the bench while you shuffle your feet along, putting all of your focus on keeping yourself upright until you reach your destination.

When you finally reach the bench, you step off of the ice and let out a breath of relief.

“Thanks, Cap. Would’ve hated to make a fool of myself out there while my mom’s watching,” you thank him, looking over to where your mom sits, a smile on her face.

Nico follows your gaze and waves to your mom, matching her smile.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we? What if she found out her daughter was a skating fraud?” he teases, leaning in to whisper the last two words.

“It’s her fault for never taking me to the rink my town would throw up once a year at Christmas. Who knows, maybe I would’ve been a skating prodigy if given the chance,” you shrug.

A mischievous smile makes its way onto his face. “I think we should put that theory to the test,” he tells you, causing your eyes to latch onto his.

“Come again?” You raise your eyebrows and tilt your chin down.

“I mean, I can’t have some photographer out on my ice during practices that can’t even stand up,” he keeps his tone light, making sure you know he’s just teasing, “So, I’m going to teach you how to skate, and see if you really would have been a skating prodigy.”

He skates off, winking before resuming his practice.

You don’t have a chance to speak to him again until after the game, when you get at text from an unknown number reading “Rink, tomorrow, 2pm. I’ll bring skates, just bring your prodigy skills.”

After that, you meet with Nico twice a week for skating lessons.

The two of you quickly form a friendship, Nico bringing you coffee on gamedays and you slipping him snacks on the bench during games. You even started inviting him over for dinner after your lessons, insisting the least you can do is feed him to repay him for preventing you from making a fool of yourself on the ice.

Today, however, you did make a fool of yourself on the ice.

You were standing behind the net, telling the players to skate towards you so you could get some shots for the team’s Instagram account by request of the social media manager.

Once you were pleased with the amount of shots you had gotten, you left your spot from behind the net, skating slowly towards the benches, still a little wobbly on your skates.

You were looking down at your camera, thinking of how you’ll have to get Nico out here after the game to get some shots, knowing he’s currently doing pre-game interviews in the locker room.

You weren’t paying the slightest bit of attention to the pucks littering the ice in front of you, skating right into one and losing your balance, holding your camera up with one arm while trying to catch yourself with the other.

You felt the way your shoulder shifted, crying out in pain as players turned and started rushing towards you on the ice.

The team doctor came out and told you he was pretty sure your shoulder was simply dislocated, but sent you to the hospital to make sure nothing’s broken.

The ER doctor confirmed your diagnosis, putting your shoulder back into place before pumping you full of pain meds and placing your arm into a sling.

Which leads you to where you are now, back at your apartment, explaining to your mother why Nico can’t be at your beck and call.

“Honey, when are you going to realize that boy is in love with you? I’m telling you, the way I saw him look at you that day I came to visit, the skating lessons and dinners,” she starts, giving you her typical speech when you tell her Nico is just a friend.

“Mom, it doesn’t matter what you think you saw, we’re seriously just friends. And he’s busy, his schedule is too hectic to spend his time babysitting me,” you interrupt her, not wanting to hear her Nico speech for the thousandth time, regretting ever telling her about the skating lessons.

She sighs into the phone.

“I’m just trying to help you, you know…” you hear your mother start, but you tune the rest of her words out, focusing on the three loud knocks on your front door.

Your head turns to your door, the unexpected noise causing you to jump, the sudden motion tipping your bag over, the contents spilling all of your kitchen floor.

“Honey, are you alright? What was that?” your mom halts her one-sided conversation, worry in her tone.

“Shit!” you exclaim, watching the container of memory cards fly open, the small squares sliding across the linoleum floor.

You forget about the sling on your arm, crouching down and trying to reach for the cards with your bad arm, a searing pain shooting through your shoulder at the movement.

Letting out a loud yelp, you bring your arm back to its resting positing in the sling.

“Y/N, what’s going on? Did you hurt yourself?” you barely hear your mother’s voice through the phone speaker, not being able to think about anything other than the throbbing pain in your shoulder.

You hear three more pounds on your front door, this time a voice following the knocks.

“Y/N! Open up!”

You groan, trying to stand up, too many people trying to get your attention at the moment.

“Honey, talk to me. Is someone in there with you? I heard another voice,” your mother asks you as you stand, making your way over towards your front door.

“Someone’s knocking on the door,” you grit through your teeth, trying to think about anything but the pain in your shoulder. “I dropped my bag and tried to pick something up with my bad arm. I’m fine. Just hurts,” you tell her, opening your door to see a frantic Nico standing there.

His wide eyes scan your body, stopping once they see the sling on your arm.

You notice his wet hair and lack of socks on his tennis shoe covered feet.

“Are you okay? They told me you had to be taken to the hospital before the game started, but no one knew what really happened,” he rushed out, looking up at your face.

“Hey, Mom, gotta go, Nico’s at my door,” you tell her, a little stunned that the object of your conversation just appeared, hanging up the phone before she could make any comments about it.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” you ask him, pointing towards his feet, an amused smile on your face. The shock of seeing him at your door making you completely forget about the pain in your shoulder.

Nico looks down at his own feet, looking back up at you with red cheeks.

“Oh, uh, I couldn’t find my socks after the game and i couldn’t get you to answer your phone, so I rushed over to the hospital to see if you were still there, and they told me you left about an hour ago, so I hopped in my car and came over here to make sure you were okay,” he tells you, not meeting your eye.

You’re shocked at his confession, not expecting him to be so concerned about your impromptu trip to the hospital.

“Well, I’m here and still standing,” you awkwardly stand in your doorway, not knowing what else to say, thinking about how if you weren’t arguing with your mom over Nico on the phone, you might have gotten his calls.

“Yeah, I see that now,” he shoves his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.

The two of you stand there, not really knowing what to say to one another.

“Do you want to come in?” you ask him, moving out of the doorway to let him step into your apartment.

Nico shakes his head yes and walks past you, looking towards the mess on the floor in your kitchen.

“What happened here? Is this the crash I heard?” he asks you.

“Yeah, the bag fell and spilled everything. When I went to pick it up, I forgot and used my bad shoulder,” you gesture to your slinged arm.

Nico shakes his head at you, crouching down to pick up the camera disks all over the floor.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to-“

“Well you’re sure as hell not trying to pick them up again,” Nico interrupts you, standing and placing the now full box of disks on your table.

You roll your eyes at him, walking over towards your fridge.

“So, what exactly happened? Jack told me you hurt your shoulder?” he follows you over to your fridge, watching you scan its contents, or lack thereof.

“Well, I was looking at my camera and skated right into a bunch of pucks on the floor, then was too focused on saving the equipment instead of remembering how to fall properly,” you told him, remembering his words during your first skate lesson, telling you not to catch yourself if you fall on the ice.

“See, I told you to just let yourself fall. Never try to catch yourself,” he echoes his words in your thoughts.

“Yeah, well, it’s a lot easier said than done,” you deadpan, shutting your fridge door and looking at Nico.

Your stomach growls at that exact moment, making you groan at your lack of food in your fridge, not having eaten since before your accident.

“When was the last time you ate anything?” Nico asks you, looking down at your growling stomach.

“Uhhh, breakfast?” you recall.

Nico’s eyes widen. “It’s almost midnight. Did they really not feed you at the hospital?” he asks you.

“Considering they were busy doing x-rays and scans to make sure nothing was broken or torn, no,” you walk over to your cabinets, finding them also bare.

“Alright, go sit down and I’ll order us something to eat,” Nico shoos you out of the kitchen, walking over and opening the drawer where you keep all of your takeout menus.

You wonder how he knows where your menus are, forgetting for a moment that he’s over at your apartment at least twice a week after your skating lessons. Sometimes more, the occasional movie night making its way into your weekly routine.

“What do you want? Sushi? Chinese? Burgers?” he questions, flipping through your menus.

For some reason, your brain chooses this moment to register how much you enjoy the sight of Nico in your kitchen, looking through your takeout menus and offering to order you dinner.

You think back to all the times he’s helped you make dinner, laughter filling every moment of your time together. You think about how he always wear his pjs when he comes over for a movie night, bringing a different chocolate candy to put in the popcorn each time. You think about how he somehow learned your coffee order without you ever telling him, bringing you a coffee every morning, even at away games.

You think about your mother’s words, and how you didn’t even have to ask Nico to come over tonight, or to give you skating lessons. You think about how you never have to ask Nico to do anything he does for you – which is a lot, you’re realizing – he just does it. He does it because he wants to, because he’s kind and caring and wants to spend time with you.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N, what do you want for dinner?” Nico snaps you out of your sudden revelation.

“Sorry, spaced out for a second. Must be the pain meds,” you tell him, knowing that your mind isn’t the least bit impaired right now.

“Okay, go sit down, we need to get some food in you then,” he fishes his phone out of his pocket, mumbling out “Can’t believe they pumped you full of meds on an empty stomach.”

You make your way to your couch, sitting down and taking your shoes off, making yourself as comfortable as you can.

You remove a stray piece of hair that fell onto your face, knowing how awful it must look.

When you fell on the ice, the claw clip that was holding your hair in its up-do broke, causing it to fan out over the cold, wet ice. Once you got to the hospital, you were put in and out of so many different machines, you can only imagine the tangled, matted mess it is.

You get up and go to your bathroom, finding your brush and trying to comb it out. The task proving to be difficult with only one hand. The tangles keep pulling your head back and hurting your tender scalp, but you keep trying, whimpering each time the brush gets stuck on a particularly bad tangle.

You don’t even hear Nico approach your bathroom, just a sigh and “I told you to sit down,” before the brush is taken from your hand and you see Nico’s reflection behind you in the mirror.

Without another word, he proceeds to brush your hair for you, ensuring every tangle is gone before setting the brush on your sink.

The two of you make eye contact in the mirror, neither one wanting to break the silence during the surprisingly intimate moment.

You clear your throat, looking down after the silence got too intense, causing Nico to avert his eyes as well.

“I really wish i could wash my hair, but i know that’s a no go tonight,” you chuckle, wishing your bathroom was a little bit bigger in this moment.

“I can braid your hair for you,” Nico starts, staring at you in the mirror, watching your eyes snap up to meet his. “I mean, only if you want,” he stutters out.

“Really?” you ask him, a little stunned.

“Yeah. I used to help Nina with hers all the time when I was younger,” Nico mentions his older sister, grabbing your hair lightly and starting to section it off. “Anytime she would have a sleep over I would always weasel my way into the party. So one day, she made me sit in a braiding chain and learn how to braid her hair.”

You let out a giggle, picturing a smaller version of Nico sitting at the end of a line of girls, braiding their long hair.

“Then, Nina claimed I got so good at it she always wanted me to braid her hair before her volleyball matches, then her friends all started wanting me to do theirs, too,” he continues talking, nearly lulling you to sleep with the soft movements of his hands as you listen to him speak.

“I think that’s adorable,” you quietly speak, closing your eyes.

“What can I say? When a pretty girl needs her hair braided, who am I to keep my skills to myself?” he jokes, making you wonder if he meant you or his sister’s friends.

“I’m sure it’s any little boy’s dream to have an entire volleyball team at his mercy, all those pretty volleyball players begging him to play with their hair,” you tease him, handing him the hair tie that you always keep on your wrist.

“I don’t know, I think playing with a pretty photographer’s hair is better, if you ask me,” he ties the hair tie around the bottom of the braid, reaching up to pull the braid loose, making sure it’s not too tight.

You keep your eyes closed, knowing he can likely see the redness on your cheeks at his words.

“Alright, eyes open. Need to make sure you like my work,” he places his hands on your biceps, making sure to keep his touch feather light on your bad arm.

He turns you around so you’re facing him, holding a handheld mirror that was laying on your sink in front of your face, allowing you to see the reflection of the braid.

You’re shocked to see the flawless Dutch braid that cascades down your back.

“Nico, you’re like…really good at this,” you reach your good hand to the back of your head, running it down the braid.

“Told you, I had a lot of practice,” he shrugs, setting the mirror down.

You yawn, the relaxing nature of having your hair braided allowing you to realize how tired you are from the day’s events.

“Nuh-uh, gotta keep you awake until we get some food in you,” he tuts, taking his hands and patting your cheeks.

You groan, leaning into his palms that stay resting on your face.

“C’mon, let’s get you changed and on the couch,” he motions for you to leave the bathroom.

You walk to your room, Nico helping you carefully remove your sling before leaving and giving you some privacy.

You change into your pajamas, somehow managing to get your arm into an oversized Devils shirt you found at the bottom of your drawer.

Nico is standing outside of your door when you open it, helping you back into your sling.

He stands in front of you, staring at you with a look that you can’t decipher.

“Is…everything okay?” you question him, noticing his stare after adjusting your sling.

His eyes snap up to you, seemingly unaware that he was even staring at you in the first place.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. I just- is that my shirt?” he asks you, pointing to your pj shirt.

You look down at the oversized shirt, trying to think of where you got it.

It had just showed up in your laundry basket one day, assuming it was one they gave you when you got your job, but Nico’s question makes you think harder.

You realize, suddenly, you do remember where you got it.

During one of your post lesson dinners, Nico had spilled his drink all over his shirt. You offered to wash it for him after he changed to a shirt in his duffel.

You meant to take it back to him after you washed it, but forgot about it entirely, packing it away in your pajama drawer.

“Oh, crap, it is. Do you want it back, I can go change?” you ask him, worried he’s upset that you forgot to give it back.

“No…no it’s fine. Keep it. I have plenty,” he shakes his head, glancing down at it once more.

The two of you make your way to your couch, finding something to watch on tv when there’s a knock on the door, signaling the arrival of your food.

You start to stand to go get it, but Nico sternly tells you to stay put.

Rolling your eyes you sit back down, grabbing the remote and continuing to channel surf.

Nico’s gone for longer than you expect, causing you to sit up and turn back towards your kitchen, wondering what’s taking him so long.

You see him walking over to you, a tray full of food in his hands.

He had ordered from your favorite sushi place, figuring it would be the easiest for you to eat one handed.

As he sat down the tray on the coffee table in front of you, you realized what took him so long.

Nico had put a toothpick in each piece of your sushi, knowing using chopsticks with your non dominant hand would have been hard for you. He poured soy sauce into a small container, allowing you to simply pick up each toothpick and dip it in the sauce before popping it in your mouth.

He had also ordered you a bottle of cherry coke, which he knew was your favorite, and placed it on the tray with the lid unscrewed and a straw peeking out of the bottle next to a glass of ice, just incase you wanted it that way instead.

You looked up at him, feeling that funny feeling in your chest like you did earlier in your kitchen, blown away at how he always seems to think of everything he can to help you out, even when you’re not injured.

You must’ve been looking for longer than you realized, because he cocks his head at you, confusion present on his face.

“What?” he asks, not understanding what’s wrong. “Did you not want sushi? I thought you said it was always the one thing that could cheer you up?”

You shake your head at him. “No, sushi is perfect,” you tell him, a small smile on your face as you look up at him.

He smiles back for a few moments, then started scooting the coffee table towards you so you don’t have to reach to grab your food. He moves around the table to sit beside of you, the size of the small table causing him to sit so close to you that you can feel the warmness of his large thigh against yours.

You once again think about all of the things he’s done for you without you even having to ask. Now including coming over after a game—no doubt exhausted and sore—and taking care of you without even thinking twice. Braiding your hair and calling you pretty. Staring at you unintentionally wearing his t-shirt. Modifying your food so it’s easier for you to eat with one hand.

You sit there, staring at the man you fear you’re falling in love with, already planning out the apology text you’re going to have to send your mom.

[residenthughes]

opera house - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x afab reader

word count: 2.5k

tags/warnings: +18 nsfw, so minors dni, oral sex (m on f), dirty talk (if you can call it that?), no mention of y/n, pet names (baby, princess)

summary: reading is your favourite pastime. jack makes it harder than anticipated.

notes: so...🫣 this happened. it's a small little thing that started out with me just wanting to write about how pretty jack is only to turn into the respectful pile of filth. don't write smut much so apologies if this isn't to your liking, but hopefully i'll be back with something better. also, the sentence in italics is a quote from the book mentioned in the fic. much love! <3

As the cold November climate nips at your flesh and colours the sky in hues of grey, you nestle in the cosiness of your home, warm and sheltered with your treasured fuzzy socks on as you curl up on your bed with one of the books you’ve been meaning to read. Jack says it’s a bad habit of yours: buying books that collect dust on your shelf, to which you quickly argue that he’s the one enabling your ‘bad habit’ by constantly buying them for you - your Goodreads profile bookmarked in his phone for safe keeping. An endearing act of service, all of which he is no stranger to - gifting said books in the form of a bouquet every time he leaves for a long road trip, taking out the trash because he knows it’s your least favourite chore, curling up with you now, sweetly bundled in between your legs as you two find peace in the silence you share. It’s like a warm hot chocolate on a chilly day like today, your connection smooth and comforting, wrapping you in the warmth of its embrace.

You peer beyond the top of your book, catching an eyeful of the back of Jack’s head and his loose curls, the soft clicks of his gamer control sounding as his eyes focus on the TV screen a few metres ahead. Your sugary thoughts of how endearing your long-term boyfriend can be - always is - overflow like lava, the smile on your face terribly enamoured as your fingers card through his hair, curling the soft locks around your index finger.

Like clockwork, Jack leans into your touch, slouching further into his position in between your thighs, laying a chilly cheek against the flesh of your thighs.

You squirm against the brush of his eyelashes against your skin. “That tickles.”

“Uh huh,” he absently answers, tapping away at his gamer control. “Does this?”

A delicate kiss marks you, Jack’s head going back to laying against your thigh as he directs his attention to the game set out against the TV.

“No,” you blush. “But, that was nice.”

A huff of amusement sounds from Jack and instantly, you know what position you've put yourself in by saying that. “Bet it was. Aren’t you busy with that book of yours?”

You bite back, the muscles of your thighs tightening their grip around your boyfriend. “Sometimes a distraction is necessary.”

The clicks of his gamer control halt and silence envelopes the room, your eyebrow raised as his on-screen character dies as a result of his negligence. 

Jack clears his throat, his body shuffling against yours as he readjusts his position, restarting the game. “Maybe you’re right about that, baby.”

A pout remains settled against your lips as your eyes squint at your partner, your suspicion towards his action not enough to distract you from the habitual motion of your fingers as they thread through Jack’s hair. You raise your opened book back to eye-level, not batting an eyelash.

It’s when you’ve gotten perhaps three sentences into your book that Jack breaks the silence. “What’s the story about?”

“The book I’m currently reading?” Jack hums in reply. “Oh, it’s a spinoff of a series I’ve been meaning to read. It’s basically a college romance story about a girl aspiring to be on the national ice hockey team and her getting help from this guy she met years ago, called Ryder. Unexpectedly smutty, 10/10 would recommend.”

Jack laughs with you at your nasty comment, body vibrating against yours as his chuckle courses through him. You lower your book again.

“You and your smutty books,” Jack snickers to himself, eyes trained ahead of him. There’s a pause before he speaks again. “In what ways is it unexpectedly smutty?”

Despite how long you’ve been with Jack and the comfort you've established living alongside him, the question does make you a bit flustered, crimsoning as you look away, avoiding any view of him. “Well, it’s pretty raunchy up front. Like how they’ve done some naughty things in the shower - quite tame, but I’ve also just read that Ryder did some things when they went to go see the opera.”

“What things?” Jack asks, point blank.

Now, it’s time for you to clear your throat. Cheeks tinted. “Do I even have to say, Jack?”

The pause screen displays itself against the TV, the clicks of his controller no more as Jack shifts once again within your grasp, body turning as he lays his stomach against the comfort of the mattress, pools of azure staring into yours. Your heart thuds in your chest.

“Yes, I wanna hear what things you’re reading,” he says easily as if he isn’t inciting violence in your chest right now, the corner of his pink lips curved softly as he tilts his head against your thigh. “All of it.”

Suddenly, the temperature in the room escalates from toasty warm to scorching hot, a familiar flame in the pits of your stomach igniting as you’ve somehow found yourself in such a predicament - backed into a corner and at a loss for words.

“He,” you stammer, averting your eyes because all Jack’s eyes do is look at you, his burning gaze elevating the heat that dances against the surface of your cheeks. “He fingers her in the opera.”

You whisper that last part but Jack hears you judging by the faint chuckle coming from him. “He fingers who at the opera?”

He accents his point with a kiss against your thigh, this time the gesture conjuring a polar opposite sensation as goosebumps riddle your skin. You let out a shaky breath you hadn’t known you were holding, looking again at your partner to still find him looking right back at you, eyelids heavy and eyes dark. You have to look away.

You gulp. “Gigi - her name is Gigi.”

You finally muster some sort of courage you’ve had to find within your situation when you hear Jack shift again, eyes capturing your boyfriend’s arms coming up to circle around your thighs, eyes never leaving yours as his hands find purchase against your skin, thumbs absently caressing the surface much like you did earlier with his hair. 

“Is that short for something?” Jack accents his question with another kiss, his touch searing. 

“No,” you gulp, voice foolishly unsteady as your eyes study Jack’s movements with caution. “I mean, Ryder jokes that her name is Gisele, but that’s-”

“Guys like to tease,” he kisses a little higher against your thigh as if to prove his point. “Especially with girls they like.”

“I don’t think that’s appreciated, Jack.” 

You’re talking about a completely different thing now - a conversation within a conversation. 

“I don’t know about that, baby,” whilst still staring at you, his teeth manage to nip at a small sliver of your skin, numbness plaguing your limbs. “Read it to me.”

Your brows knit together, puzzled as ever. “What?”

“You heard me,” declares Jack, his kisses abundantly littering the expanse of your thigh as your mind begins to spiral. “Read it to me.”

Your mind is frazzled, brain working overtime to comprehend the sudden turn of events, all the while Jack takes it upon himself to sit pretty in between your legs and touch you as if made from porcelain - delicate and tender, a sharp contrast to the emotions bathing you in lust. Jack glances up at you one more time, button nose nuzzling against your inner thigh as he gives you a knowing look, his lips preoccupied. You obey wordlessly, uneasy eyes still on him as you bring your book back upwards, its previous position altered so you can manage to steal a look at Jack out of your peripheral.

Out loud, you begin to read to him the aftermath of the opera scene, a more tame development following as you manage to get through the next page unscathed. Jack’s kisses at first, are a bit distracting and have your voice betray you, but they’re sporadic and by the time you’ve turned the page, you’re already used to the sensation. You even achieve some comfort in his touch, but that doesn’t last long because when you’re in the midst of your storytelling, you feel Jack’s fingers hook around your shorts’ waistband.

Immediately, you lower your book, a chill running down your spine. “What are you doing?”

He bats his long eyelashes, almost mockingly. “Listening to you.”

“Jack.” For once, your tone is firm, watching aimlessly as he inches the material past your hip bones.

“Lift your hips a little or I won’t be able to get these off you,” he insists, a convincing smile settled amongst his charming features that express his pleasure in this all. “Unless you wanna keep them on?”

It’s a rhetorical question, a trap set up to see if you’ll bite and despite it all, the excitement of what’s to come leads you right where Jack wants you. Lifting your hips with an embarrassing ache in between your legs as you lie in anticipation, continuing on with your reading as Jack goes back to teasing you endlessly.

“Gettin’ pretty worked up over this story, huh?” echoes Jack. “I can tell.”

To demonstrate the meaning of his words, he blows a cool breeze against you that makes you mewl and draw your thighs closer at the sensation. Heart thudding against your chest, your bewildered gaze gravitates back to Jack who kisses you through the fabric of your underwear and has you fumbling for words.

“I didn’t say you could stop reading,” Jack removes his lips, peering up at you with a look that melts you into a pathetic pool of yourself. “You stop, I stop. Sound fair?”

That sounds anything but fair, but who are you to say so? He clearly holds all the power in this situation, you dancing right in the palm of his hand. This has escalated beyond a point of no return and you’re not backing out now so you oblige, opening your mouth to read but uttering out nothing more than a moan as Jack pulls your underwear to the side, his fingers gliding through your wet folds. 

“So satisfying to tease you when your reactions are this good,” he rasps, followed by a low chuckle as his calloused fingertip circles around your clit, eliciting the buck of your hips and the waiver in your voice. “Anyways, you were saying?”

You’re grasping for straws here, trying to tie yourself down to the little sanity (and patience) you have as your frantic eyes try and find where you last left off, straying away every couple of words as Jack does nothing more than use his fingers to distract you. 

“Words, baby. Use your words,” he instructs, and it’s the sexist thing you’ve ever heard in your entire life. “We follow...”

“We follow..the people,” you falter, voice wobbly. “We follow the people in…”

Somewhere in that sentence, a hefty exhale blows past your mouth as Jack moves two fingers into you, the curl of them accentuating the end of your sentence with a moan. 

“Always sound so pretty with my fingers in you,” muses Jack, tone low and memorised as he works said fingers in and out of you, your slick building all around his fingers. “Can’t get enough of it.”

You do a subpar job of reading the next few lines as Jack’s fingers pick up the pace, moving deeper in you to milk every reaction you give him mixed in with your slurred words. Your attempt at remaining coherent diminishes completely when Jack’s lips find their way to your swollen clit, a light press of the lips against the hood of your clit before he’s sucking on the bud.

Your words come out in stutters, voice trembling pathetically as he wraps you around his fingers, making a mess of you in the form of kitten licks against your clit and nibble fingers coaxing your building orgasm out of you. His motions stop every time you get lost in the feeling of him sucking your clit, fingers tangled in his locks of hair. And with a whine, you compel with his previous instructions, reading along with the world’s prettiest distraction in between your legs. 

Somehow, you make it to the next page without much delay, Jack’s mouth trained on you as he laps up every bit of you, tongue drawing all kinds of figures against or around your clit. You’re clenching around his fingers more than you can forgive yourself for, body running hot as the sounds of your slick echo throughout the room, the pit in your stomach only growing.

“Just like that, princess,” he hums against your clit, the sensation drawing a tight-lipped whimper from you as your hips follow the vibration. “How many more pages until the chapter’s finished? I don’t think you’re gonna last long.”

And, it’s all true. Body twitching, toes curling and cunt spasming around his fingers that curl in you. Your brain can barely keep up at this point. “So many.”

Jack tsks, his thumb replacing his lips against your clit as he moves it in slow circles. “You think you can hold on till then?”

You answer truthfully, however embarrassing it may be. “No.” 

He laughs briefly when he hits that spongy part inside of you, your back bowing off the stacked pillows behind you as Jack continues to hit the exact spot that has you seeing stars. 

“How ‘bout a compromise?” Jack starts, your hips lifting to meet the insistent thrust of his fingers. “You tell me how badly you wanna come, and you get to ditch the book whilst I make you come. Sounds good?”

An awfully generous offer considering how your brain has turned to mush and can barely keep up with any of the inked words on the page right now. So, you agree. Enthusiastically.

“Please,” you mewl with a puckered forehead, gazing down at your beautiful boyfriend with his tousled hair and glossy lips. A sight for sore eyes. “Please, J. I wanna come.”

“How bad?” He doesn’t miss a beat, eyes challenge yours.

“So bad,” you keen when his other hand lays over your stomach, applying pressure to the spongy spot that teethers you on the very edge. “Fuck, it’s only you. Only you can…make me feel good. Please, J.” 

The begging works. It always works and with that, you drop your book, long discarded amidst the mess of the sheets as your fingers tangle in Jack’s hair as he sucks roughly on your clit again. Rocking up against his mouth, the angle of his fingers renders you completely at his mercy, uttering stuttery breaths as he brings you over the edge, applying pressure in all the right places because he knows your body better than you do, gushing slick flowing from you as you ride out your high, brain reduced to syrup. 

He doesn’t even wait before you’ve caught your breath that he sends you a flirtatious wink in between your quivering thighs. “So, opera date next week?”

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

“Don’t touch me. We’re fighting.”

Quinn pleaseeee 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

I'm gonna put a warning on this because I like it so I don't feel like rewriting it. Warning: shitty relationship with father.

Drabble Masterlist

"Don't touch me. We're fighting."

Quinn didn't seem to care that you were pissed. But pissed didn't even describe the soreness in your jaw from clenching it so tight or the fact that your body temperature was elevated or that all you wanted to do was scream. Glancing over as he stood on the other side of the kitchen island, his face was as it always was calm, his thoughts were probably collected while your brain was firing off things to add to the fire if needed, he looked like he was in control of his body while yours was being controlled by the rage inside you. Looking at Quinn only pissed you off more so you just looked away.

After a minute, you decided it was best to walk away and cool off before you said something you'd regret. Quinn on the other hand, wasn't done fighting he wanted you to understand his point of view and he didn't wanna wait till morning. As you made your way down the hall you could hear Quinn's footsteps behind you.

"Wait Y/N, Let me explain." He went to gently touch your arm in hopes that you would stop walking away from him.

He got his wish, you turned around talking through your teeth you grunted. "Don't touch me. We're fighting."

Quinn has never pulled away from you so quickly before. Even with how angry you were at him it still hurt you how fast he pulled away. Quinn was looking at the floor, for the first time showing emotion since your fight started. "I was just trying to help."

All you could do is sigh. "By telling my father off?" you question defeat clear in your voice. "Quinn I've been over this with you, my family isn't like your family. You can't just voice your opinions to my dad, especially if it's you disagreeing with him or his choices."

Quinn looked up at you finally, he frowned his eyebrows in annoyance but you knew it wasn't at you. "Well I am mad at him. He shouldn't be allowed to talk down to you and blame you for not getting along with your stepmom when all she does is talk down to you. I couldn't sit there and let her talk down to you at dinner. Okay. And I guess I'm sorry for how it came up, but I am not sorry for standing up for you."

"Quinn I know you were trying to stand up for me. But I don't need you or anyone to stand up for me, especially against my family. Okay?" you ask waiting for him to acknowledge you.

"No. I'm sorry because how can you let them tell you that you aren't as far in your career as you should be as if they helped at all with the cost of college. Or the fact that all they did all dinner was telling you everything you were doing wrong with your life?" His tone was accusing and you found yourself taking a step back, your body was exhausted and all you wanted to was get out of this ichy dress and go to bed.

"I don't wanna have this conversation tonight." you begged.

"I just don't understand why do you even keep him around Y/N!"

"Okay since you seem to not be able to understand why I let them talk that way to you let me explain it to you so we never have to talk about this again got it?" you ask waiting for Quinn to nod his head before you continue. "Look my dad might be a piece of shit, but guess what he's my piece of shit father not anyone else's. Everyone always ask me for years 'Y/N if I were you, I'd cut him off why don't you.' For a long time I didn't have an answer for them but as I got older I do and it's this. Because he might be a piece of shit but without him I wouldn't be standing here physically because he is physically half of me. And I know you have lovely parents Quinn and brothers. But not everyone does and I am terrifed that if I do cut him out all the way vs seeing him three times a year like I do now. That one day I will get a call and he will be dead and I will have regret for not at least having him in some capactiy in my life. So because of that fear of regret because I know many people who have it now since their parents passed. I keep him around and if you can't understand that fine, not everyone does."

Taking a step closer to Quinn you add, "but whether you agree or not, you don't get to judge me for the choices I've made when it comes to the relationship between my father and I. Because that is exactly what it is." Pointing to yourself. "It's MY relationship not yours and you also don't get to make it more shaky then it already is by yelling at him in the middle of the steakhouse."

Quinn and you aren't sure how long you stood in your apartment hallway, it could of been seconds it could of been minutes. At some point Quinn looked at you and said "agree to disagree." All you did was nod and you both said true to your word you never talked about your father and your relationship ever again.

[sweethischier]

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 - 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

word count: 3.4k

summary: Friends with benefits never worked, especially when that friend had been by your side longer than not, and even more so when both of you were too scared to admit your feelings out loud. While jealousy was a nasty thing, it always brought the truth out.

warnings: implications of smut but no actual smut, kissing, angst, jealous dickhead jack, misunderstandings, pining

For as long as you could remember, you’d spent the majority of your summer with the Hughes’ at their lake house. You’d beg and beg your mom to let you go with them, even though she said yes every time. You’d spend the week before you were supposed to leave with them packing and making sure you brought everything you thought you could possibly need. Jack had always poked fun at you and called you an over packer, but you told him you like to think of it as better prepared for any disaster that could potentially happen.

Now that you were older, not much had changed in most of those aspects. You still asked your mom to ensure that nothing was occurring over summer that you couldn’t miss, and you still very much overpacked. However, there were two small differences now. The lake house you visited now belonged to Jack and Quinn as opposed to their parents, yet you still visited them as often as you could, and your relationship with Jack was a bit different.

After one drunken night during your week-long visit to Jersey, you found yourself tangled in his sheets and woke up the following morning in his arms. You had woken up before Jack, and memories of what occurred only hours ago flooded your mind at a speed that made you dizzy and nauseous. Though maybe that was more courtesy of how much you had drank the prior night. When you tried to slip out of the sheets, his grip on your waist tightened and he pulled you closer into his chest.

“You runnin’ away,” His tired voice vibrated against your shoulder as his thumb caressed the skin of your hip.

“No,” You whispered, hoping he couldn’t hear or feel just how loudly your heart was beating in your chest, “Maybe.”

Jack’s laughter rumbled against your back as he flexed his arm against you, and you couldn’t help but let your body relax against him, your eyes fluttering closed as your breathing steadies. His body was warm against yours, and you let reminders of him pressed against you as he whispered sinful things in your ear fill your head. It was a night you were surely to never forget, but the uncertainty of this morning made the nagging feeling of anxiety linger.

“You can get up if you want,” He mumbled as he began to place small, open mouthed kisses to the skin where your neck and shoulder meet, “Or we can go for round four.”

Needless to say, you didn’t end up leaving Jack’s bed that day until well into the afternoon. From that day on, you were constantly walking a fine line that determined your relationship with him, often straying far off the path into unfamiliar territory when you found yourself in his bed all over again. Neither of you dared to have the conversation of what it meant to the other, instead choosing to live in the moment and just hope and pray that nothing was ruined. But of course, that was wishful thinking and it all came apart at the seams over the summer.

When you arrived at the lake house like you always did every summer, it was the same as every year before. Jack was waiting in the driveway to carry your bags inside and up to the room right beside the one he always claimed as his own. He stayed in your room, perched on the edge of the bed as he talked your ear off while you unpacked your things. However, this time he made subtle, inappropriate comments when you pulled out a bikini or a bra that was a little see through.

His words rang in your ears, a deep blush decorating your cheeks as you shook your head and kept putting your things where you always had. You heard the sound of the bed groan followed by the sound of his footsteps nearing you, and your heart began to thud in your chest. His hand carefully grabbed your hip, turning your body so that you were now facing him with your chest flush against his own.

You peered up at him, your eyes wide as he looked down at you with a smug smirk on his face. His fingers were delicately pressing into the flesh on your hips, his eyes dancing across your face as he slowly leaned forward. It was what he always did when he wanted to kiss you; it was his way of making sure you were okay with it without asking because asking made what the two of you were doing much more real.

“Jack,” You breathed out as his lips ghost over your own, your hands nervously fisting the material of his shirt, “What if someone walks in?”

“They won’t,” He whispers, placing a small kiss to the corner of your mouth,  “You just have to be quiet.”

When you went back downstairs, you avoided eye contact with everyone in fear that they heard the escapades you and Jack were up to only moments prior. None of them seemed to have heard anything, though, based on the way they only stopped their conversations to greet you rather than to give you knowing looks. However, Quinn did glance between you and his brother far too many times for you to not think he didn’t suspect something.

The first couple of weeks of the summer went by as they always did with only a slight change. While everyone still spent a good majority of their time outside or on the water, you and Jack would often sneak away on your own to explore each other's bodies in ways that made you blush to even think about. Every time the boys would drag you to the golf course to be their self appointed cart girl, Jack would leave lingering touches on the curve of your ass or he’d whisper comments in your ear that left you with clenching thighs.

Truthfully, you were surprised that no one had noticed, or at least no one had said anything about it. Your room was directly in between Jack’s and the one that Trevor and Alex shared, and the fact that they hadn’t heard the two of you at night truly baffled you. You did your best to keep quiet, but the bed you slept on creaked with every passing movement and no attempt at fixing it ever worked. Either way, you were grateful your bedroom activities seemed to go undetected.

You never let yourself really think too much on how you felt about Jack, but the more often you found him telling you how beautiful you were, how much he worshiped your body, the harder it got to ignore those feelings. The more often you found yourself encased in his arms, the harder it got to tell yourself that you hadn’t fallen for the boy you’d known almost your entire life. 

“I thought this was supposed to be a few people,” You laughed as you scoured the sea of people for familiar faces.

“That’s what Quinn said, but I’m sure Jack and Trevor went overboard with inviting every girl they met,” Alex laughs as he hands you a drink from the cooler.

There was no stopping the way your chest burned with jealousy as you thought about Jack inviting other girls, but you knew you had no right to feel that way. He wasn’t your boyfriend. Hell, the two of you never even claimed to be exclusive with just each other when it came to hooking up. It was a thought you tried not to dwell on too much because it made bile form in your throat and frustrated tears prick your eyes.

It didn’t help that you hadn’t seen him since people started filtering in through the front door. He had left a little earlier in the day, only telling you that he would be back later, nut he had yet to come back. You had texted him and asked him if he was okay, but your text was left unanswered and that did nothing to cease the nerves twisting and turning in your stomach.

“Yeah, probably,” You forced out, your lips forming a tight line as you looked away from Alex.

You followed him out to the back deck with Cole, doing your best to ignore the anxious nagging in your chest as you mingled with those around you. There were quite a few people you had never met, and you were doing your best to remember whose name was whose, but it was a little difficult when your mind was elsewhere. All you could think about was Jack and the fact that maybe he was too busy with another girl to even remember you. 

It wasn’t long after you had gone outside that everyone migrated to the chairs by the water, but there weren’t enough for each person to have their own seat, so you ended up in Alex’s lap. It wasn’t necessarily uncommon for you to end up in the lap of one of the boys, but it was uncommon for it to be someone other than Jack. Alex was respectful and kept one hand on his drink and the other resting on the arm rest, not touching you in a way that could potentially make you uncomfortable. However, if anyone were to glance at the two of you, you know what assumption they would make.

Everything still felt slightly off without Jack at your side, but you slowly let yourself enjoy what was going on around you rather than think about him and what he was doing. You fell into conversations easily, laughing with the others as they told their stories. Eventually you got tired of sitting straight up and leaned back onto Alex to relax. The both of you knew it meant nothing, but if you were on the outside looking in, it meant you were making a sort of silent declaration to everyone that you were off limits.

Jack had spent the last several hours going to every store he could in search of your favorite drink because he knew how much you hated what they always had at the house. He knew you would never say anything because you never wanted to inconvenience anyone, so he always took it upon himself to get it for you. However, when he had gotten back with Trevor after he finally managed to find it, the last thing he expected to see was you cuddled up against his friend's chest.

“Did you find her– Oh, there she is,” Trevor spoke over the loud music coming from the speakers in the living room, “Is that Alex?”

Jack said nothing in response, instead turning on his heels and going back towards the kitchen with Trevor watching him in confusion. He placed the drink he had grabbed for you back in the fridge, tucked behind whatever items he could use to keep them hidden so no one took them. He grabbed a drink of his own before he silently slipped into the crowd of people, trying to force the image his mind had curated of you underneath a body that wasn’t his own.

You had no idea Jack was back until Alex had gotten up to go play beer pong with one of the other guys and you had made the decision to go back inside. It was Trevor that you saw first as he was leaning against the wall next to some tall redhead you vaguely remember seeing earlier. You furrowed your brows in confusion because if he was back, so was Jack, and that meant that Jack hadn’t bothered to find you or even tell you. 

Your chest tightens as you let your thoughts drift more into the possibility that Jack had found another girl for the night. There was no stopping yourself from searching for him amongst the horde of party goers, standing on your toes to give yourself a better view. You made awkward eye contact with a few people, but you didn’t pay them any mind as you searched for the one person you were looking for. Though the second your gaze finally settled on him, the room began to spin and the voices around you faded into almost nothing.

He had his arm thrown around the shoulders of one of the girls you recognized from the filling station for the boats, a smile on his face as she animatedly talked to him. Your heels fell flat on the ground as you dropped your eyes to the floor, doing your best to keep your emotions at bay as you stood frozen in your spot. It felt like a million needles were poking at your lungs, like someone was wrapping their hands around your throat making it almost impossible to breathe.

You had to force yourself to move, to get away from the situation occurring only a few feet away from you, before you let the thread that was holding you together finally snap. It was pure instinct that moved your feet towards the stairs of the house, and you hoped that your presence would go undetected as you brushed by the group that Jack was in the middle of. 

However, unbeknownst to you, Jack saw you the second you stepped foot inside the house, his eyes drawn to you in the same way a magnet was drawn to metal. He had to make himself look away from you as the girl he had been using as a distraction continued a story he wasn’t really paying attention to. Though, when he saw you slip up the stairs out of the corner of his eye, she was long forgotten as he hastily followed after you before he even knew what he was doing.

Blood was rushing in your ears as you blinked away tears that were pricking the corners of your eyes, the sounds of the party below you fading into nothing but an obnoxious hum. You were oblivious to the sound of Jack’s footsteps behind you as you pushed your way into your room, and you didn’t register the fact that you never heard the sound of the door closing behind you. It wasn’t until you heard him call out your name that you knew you weren’t alone.

You turned on your heels, eyes wide as they meet his own. He carefully shuts the door behind him, taking a few strides until he’s so close to you that you can see the confliction swimming in his gaze. His fingers twitch towards you the same way your own do towards him, but neither of you make an attempt to close the small gap separating you. His eyes are unwavering from your face as if he was trying to get a read on you, trying to figure out what your next move was.

“Did he do something,” Jack asked, a dull anger forming in his chest once he noticed the unshed tears lining your eyes.

“Who,” You sniffled, knitting your brows together in confusion.

“Alex,” He said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world, which it was. To him.

You slightly narrowed your eyes at him, not understanding exactly why he assumed Alex had been the reason for your escape, but then it slowly pieced itself together. Jack must have seen you with Alex when you were outside. He must’ve seen the way you were seated in his lap and made the same assumption many others had, but even then, it confused you. Why would he care if he was off with another girl?

 There was a multitude of emotions filling the room around you, meshing together like an uncomfortable quilt had been thrown over the two of you. His lips were slightly parted as he looks at you, the light filtering in through the window illuminating his face in a way that made him look like he was glowing. It made the desire to surge forward and kiss him almost impossible to suppress. Almost.

“Alex didn’t do anything,” You shook your head, averting your gaze away from his own, “Why do you think he did something?”

Jack nervously clears his throat before speaking, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible, “You two looked pretty cozy outside, and you looked upset when I saw you, so I just assumed.”

His attempt at appearing indifferent failed miserably, like it always did. Jack had never been very good at hiding his distaste in his body language, and that showed in the way his eyes narrowed and his fist balled at his side even if it was only for a fleeting second. He wore his emotions on his sleeve, but that didn’t mean they made any sense to you. 

“Not sure why you care,” You rolled your eyes as you crossed your arms against your chest, an angry annoyance slowly replacing whatever you had been feeling before, “You looked pretty cozy yourself with fill station girl.”

“At least she wasn’t in my lap practically telling everyone she wanted to fuck me,” He scoffed, his voice clipped and harsh.

“Do you think I would still be up here, with you, if I wanted to fuck Alex,” You snapped, ignoring the way your heart was thudding so loudly in your chest that you wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it.

“Do you think I would follow you up here if I wanted anything to do with her,” He countered, his gaze fiery and burning into your own.

“Not sure, maybe she wasn’t going to give you what you wanted and you think I will,” You mocked as your voice cracked, a few tears managing to slip down your cheeks.

Jack’s eyes softened the moment he saw your impassive demeanor falter. He slowly and hesitantly brought his hands to your face to cradle your jaw in his palms, “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. I know that I shouldn’t have done that, but seeing you with Alex. I got jealous and angry, even though I shouldn't have.”

His touch is warm as he wipes at the tears on your skin, your entire body heating up as he kept your focus on him. He’s looking at you like he’s waiting for you to tell him exactly what he wants, what he needs to hear. Jack wants you to tell him that he had no reason to get jealous. Not because he had no right, but because it was only him that you wanted.

“You’re right,” You breathe out, hoping that you were reading the situation correctly, “You shouldn’t have done that. I don’t want Alex like that, and I never will, but do you know who I do want?”

He swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he quietly asks, “Who?”

“You.”

Finally, Jack closes the gap between you by slamming his lips on your own in a way that would’ve knocked you over if it hadn’t been for his hold on you. Your hands instinctively fly up to his shirt, fisting the material as you kiss him back, falling into nothing but the way his lips feel on yours. No matter how many times you kissed him, it was like you were experiencing it for the first time all over again.

He carefully walks backwards to your bed, not breaking away from you once as he drops his hands to your hips. He slowly falls back onto the mattress, pulling you onto his lap as you place your knees on either side of his thighs. Your hands find their way up to tangle in his hair, gently tugging on the strands to elicit a quiet groan that vibrates against your mouth. 

“I want you, too,” He mumbles as he begins to kiss down your jaw and to the column of your neck, “I want to tell everyone you’re my girl. I want to be able to kiss you in public. I want all of you.”

“What do I get in return,” You breathlessly tease, your head falling backwards as Jack explores your neck with his mouth.

“You’ve always had me, baby, so you can have whatever you want.”

“Can I drive the boat when you wake surf tomorrow?”

“You can have anything but that.”

[capquinn]

Homeward | Q. Hughes

summary: 3 times you both dream about the future + the one time you’re finally living it pairing: fem!reader x quinn hughes content: nothing but sweet, sweet baby talk word count: 3.5k ↪ masterlist

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Quinn has always been a family guy.

And even now, his actions speak loudly of the family values that shape him. He never misses an opportunity to weave his parents and brothers into his day even when thousands of miles seperate them so it hadn’t been a complete surprise when Quinn first mentioned his desire for a family of his own.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Quinn has always been a family guy.

Growing up in the Hughes household had been like living in a constant embrace of love and laughter with enduring sounds of chaos — the clatter of hockey sticks on the driveway, the hum of conversations around the dinner table and the inexplicable bickering between brothers. But most of all, it was the magical winters on the frozen pond behind their house that Quinn cherished the most. Spending hours with his dad learning how to skate, hanging onto every single piece of advice and words of encouragement, and how his mom always had cups of hot chocolate waiting for them when the cold finally drove them inside. The joy of spontaneous family road trips; the confidence that came with knowing his parents were always in the crowd, cheering him on; and the comfort of returning home. Those moments were etched into Quinn’s memory.

He remembers growing up wishing he would find someone the way his parents had found each other, and by some miracle, he had found it. He recalls the way his parents looked at each other, a silent communication that spoke volumes. Love unwavering. Evident in the small gestures that often went unnoticed by others but meant everything to Quinn. The way his dad would always wake up before his mom just so he could bring her a cup of tea to enjoy quietly in bed, or the way his mom would leave little notes in his dad’s lunchbox, small reminders that she loved and adored him. It was the way they always prioritised family dinners, making sure to sit down together no matter how busy their lives became. The way they listened to each other with patience and respect, even during disagreements.

They showed Quinn that love wasn’t just about grand gestures but about showing up every single day and making the choice to love the other.

And even now, Quinn’s actions speak loudly of the family values that shape him. He never misses an opportunity to weave his parents and brothers into his day even when thousands of miles seperate them.

He’s a family guy through and through so it hadn’t been a complete surprise when Quinn first mentioned his desire for a family of his own.

“I want that,” he murmurs, almost to himself, watching his teammate holding his toddler, making her laugh and smile. The words slip out before he can catch them.

You turn to him, eyes shimmering. “What, kids?” You ask, a small smile tugging at your lips, though you both know the answer.

Quinn scratches the back of his neck, and a flush starts to creep over his skin. He clears his throat, as if the action would be enough to get rid of any other lingering thoughts that might catch you both off guard.

“Yeah, y’know, the whole thing,” he affirms with a nod, nice and concise. He sneaks a sideways glance your way and when he meets your eyes and you smile, he feels his cheeks start to burn crimson so he casts his gaze away again, heart hammering at lightning speed in his chest. Nervous to hear your response

“‘The whole thing,’” you muse, heart skipping a beat at his words and everything in between. All the things you’re both too shy to say aloud just yet, but you understand all the same.

A too big house with a little bit of land that you can grow into with children and a dog or two. Swatching paint colours on bare nursery walls, and putting together a crib that will see all your children through their infancy. Introducing you as his wife and him as your husband. The patter of running feet and slamming of doors. The first summer by the lakeside with a tiny human who was half you and half him. Cups of tea in bed and love letters tucked into hidden pockets for him to find at away games. Late nights followed by freakishly early mornings. The chaos of family gatherings and having everyone all together all at once. The excitement of seeing you and your children standing in the crowd, cheering him on, and the thrill of meeting his eyes across the ice. Sick days on the couch. Bedtime stories. Homemade Halloween costumes. Friday movie nights. The whole thing.

“Hopefully someday,” he adds bashfully after he realises the weight of his confession, cheeks pink, circling an arm around your waist.

Butterflies flutter in your stomach, frantically dazed and desperately relieved to hear that everything you hope for he hopes for, too.

With a shy smile, you lean into him. “Definitely someday,” you simply reply.

It’s then that Quinn realises that his dreams are no longer distant aspirations. They are tangible and in reach.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The sun is beginning to drop below the horizon, casting golden hues over the Hughes’ sprawling backyard. The air filled with the hum of conversation and laughter, mingling with the faint smell of barbecue. The patio bustling with family members from all stretches of the country, all coming together for the annual summer family reunion, and Quinn is at the heart of it. Leaning against the railing, chatting animatedly with his cousins and relishing in time well spent with those he cherishes the most.

“Are you and the boys planning another fishing trip this offseason?” His cousin Dan asks, grinning as he takes a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, we’re thinking about heading up to the cabin again. The spot by the lake was great last time,” Quinn replies. “I caught a bass that was almost as big as my arm.”

“That’s right. Jack swore up and down that he had one just as big but it got away.”

He laughs, “he’s never living that down.”

Laughter ripples through the group but it’s cut short when Luke approaches, tapping his brother on the shoulder.

“Hey, Quinny, have you seen your girlfriend? She disappeared on me.” He tosses a football between his hands. “Think she’s scared of losing our bet.”

“I tell you every time — don’t bet against her. You always lose,” he warns, looking over his shoulder, half expecting to find you hovering in the kitchen and trying to be useful as you always were. When you’re not, his brows scrunch together, and he turns back to his brother, quietly surprised.

Luke shakes his head, laughing. “Not this time.” He rests the football under his arm and places his other hand on his hip. “We’re betting on who can kick the furthest field goal. It’ll be the easiest twenty bucks I’ll ever make,” he says confidently.

Quinn nods, not quite believing his brother. Sure, Luke is taller and stronger but somehow you always have luck on your side. A divine intervention that always saw that you pocketed the winnings.

“I’ve gotta see this,” he chuckles. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he tells his brother.

Quinn excuses himself from his cousins and as he makes his way inside the house, he’s greeted by the delicious aromas of various dishes being prepared in the kitchen.

He skilfully dodges around his Aunt Linda, who is juggling a hot tray of cookies, and then squeezes past his Uncle Bob, who is vigorously stirring a pot of chilli, just as his mom catches his eye.

“Oh, hey, Quinn, taste this!” Ellen calls out, holding out a wooden spoon coated with a rich, savoury sauce. “Tell me if it needs more salt.”

He obliges, stepping closer towards his mom and taking the spoon. He tastes the sauce, savouring the layers of flavour. “Nope, it's perfect. You, uh…,” Quinn's eyes are drawn to the doorway of the living room, where he can just make out your voice. “You always nail it,” he tells her, distracted.

As she takes the spoon back, her eyes follow Quinn's gaze towards the living room.

You’re sitting comfortably in an armchair, cradling cousin Kate’s newborn baby. Face lit with a gentle smile as you coo softly to the baby, eyes sparkling with joy.

The unassuming longing for ‘the whole thing’ quietly transforms into a fervent hope. A hope that is surfacing in the most unexpected moment, and now, it’s impossible for Quinn not to imagine you holding your own child one day, introducing the newest and smallest Hughes to the family. His mom, eyes brimming with tears, leaning in close, fingers gently tracing the back a tiny hand. Jack and Luke, unable to contain their excitement, hovering over your shoulder, each vying for a better view of the newest member of the family, and his dad standing close by, watching everyone fawn over the little one.

Ellen follows his gaze and smiles knowingly. “She’s wonderful with babies, isn’t she? It suits her.”

Quinn nods, blinking away his daydreams, though unable to tear his eyes away. “Yeah, it does,” he agrees softly, voice filled with a mix of admiration and affection.

Ellen squeezes his arm gently. “Go on, then. You don’t want to miss this.”

Taking her advice, Quinn navigates the rest of the way through the kitchen, weaving around the busy cooks and stepping into the living room.

You look up as he approaches, smile widening and eyes twinkling with a warmth that makes him feel even more at home.

“There you are,” you greet, voice barely above a whisper. “Come and say hi.”

Quinn moves closer, settling on the arm of the chair to get a better look at the baby nestled in your arms. The baby, fast asleep, looks peaceful and content. Tiny fists curled in a way that makes his heart race. He reaches out hesitantly to brush his finger over her cheek.

“Would you like to hold her?” You offer, watching his face soften.

He nods silently, positioning himself in a way that allows him to take the baby carefully into his arms. She starts to stir during the exchange, eyes squeezing tight, so Quinn starts swaying side to side, fixing the swaddle tighter around her tiny body. It’s enough to settle her, and with a crisis avoided, Kate grins.

“Natural, isn’t he?” she remarks, glancing in your direction.

You smile proudly. “I think he’s got a hidden talent.”

Quinn laughs lightly, trying to stay cool despite the blush creeping up his cheeks. “Hidden talent? You make it sound like I’ve been practicing in secret.”

Kate chuckles. “Well, you’re doing a great job for someone who hasn’t.”

He glances down at the baby, feeling a rush of emotions as the tiny life rests against his chest. The delicate weight, the rise and falls of her breaths and dainty features. It makes him feel a connection he hadn’t anticipated. A surge of readiness for ‘the whole thing.’

It’s fleeting, but glimpses of the future flash through his mind. He can almost hear the hum of a soft lullaby and feel the rhythm of rocking a sleepy baby in the wee hours of the morning. It’s a future he has always envisioned but perhaps hadn’t fully embraced until now.

You lean closer, curling your legs onto the chair and resting your cheek against Quinn's bicep, eyes alight with adoration, gazing at the baby. “She’s perfect, right?”

Quinn’s gaze shifts from the small human in his arms to you and he wonders if you’re thinking the same as him.

As if reading his mind, Kate innocently asks, “So, when’s it going to be your turn?” Eyes dancing between you both.

Quinn bites back a growing smile. He’s sure it’s a dead give away for all he’s feeling and wishing for right now. “Someday,” he replies, exchanging a meaningful glance with you.

Kate raises an eyebrow playfully. “You two talk about it often?”

You nuzzle your face closer against Quinn, trying to hide your grin, fidgeting with the blanket wrapped around the baby so, with any luck, she won’t be able to see just how desperately you want this life with Quinn. “We do. I mean, we still have a few more things we’d like to do first but… It’s definitely on the table.”

“Yeah, we’re in no rush.” Quinn nods in agreement, though the gleam in his eye suggests he wouldn’t mind if the day came sooner rather than later.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

“I don’t want to jinx anything but this house is ticking all the right boxes so far,” you grin.

It’s a nice change, too. House hunting had been exciting at first but once the novelty wore off and the reality of the gruelling journey it’s going to take to find the home of your dreams sunk in, things started to move more slowly and with each viewing, you weren’t sure if your forever home truly existed. Physically, they had all been great in their own right but when you crossed the threshold, heart beating steady and unable to imagine your lives in the space, you would spare Quinn a look and he would agree. “It just doesn’t feel right,” he’d explain to the agent at the end of the tour.

But this house… It had been a surprise, last minute decision to view it. The agent adamant that this could be the one. “It has good bones,” he told you both over the phone. “Lots of character and it has everything you guys are looking for. It hasn’t hit the market yet so if you’re interested, now is the right time.” And that was it.

"This kitchen is perfect," you say, twirling around, eyes alight with possibilities. A wide timber island would go here, a large window that opens onto the deck over there.

Quinn nods, envisioning lazy Sunday mornings spent soaking up the morning sun while you whip up pancakes. "And the backyard is great. Plenty of space for a pool,” he says, sticking his head out of the stain glassed back door to sneak a peak at what the outdoors offers. Plenty of space for a barbecue and full outdoor setting deck, too.

And then after wandering through the halls, picking out the master bedroom and wistfully rattling off all your ideas and renovation plans for the bathroom, you enter another room. It's smaller, cozy, and the afternoon sun pours through the window, bathing the room in a warm glow.

You both stop in the doorway, an unspoken understanding passing between you.

“This is our nursery,” you murmur, stepping further into the room, floorboards creaking under foot.

Quinn follows behind, smile dancing on his lips, taking in the room. Wainscoting, large window that overlooks the sprawling backyard and the ornate cornices that are unique to each room throughout the house but are subtle reminders of the old age charm it upholds.

When you turn around to meet his eyes, he catches your hand. “This whole house is ours, isn’t it?” He asks, voice soft, almost reverent, though it needn’t be questioned.

“We have to make an offer,” you agree, squeezing his hand. “Everything is perfect. It feels right.”

His eyes drift around the room, mind painting vivid pictures of what it could be. “So obviously the crib is going against that far wall.”

You giggle, “obviously. And the armchair will go by the window because this lighting is so…” You sigh, imagining lazing half awake in the armchair with a little one curled against your chest, light filtering through sheer curtains. And over there, in the middle of the room, you see Quinn beckoning a wobbly toddler to take their first steps.

But back here, where life is falling right into place, Quinn pulls you close, a hand resting on the small of the back, and presses a kiss to your temple. His mind is never too far from the very same musings.

“I can see us here,” he murmurs with an air of finality.

Decision made.

No other house will do — this is it.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

It’s summer at the lake house, and the Hughes are making the most of the wonderful weather. The warmth of the sun filters through the leaks of a towering oak tree, casting dappled shadows on the ground and the air hums with the sounds of insects and the soft lapping of the lake’s waves against the shore. You and Quinn are sprawled out against pillows side by side on a faded picnic rug, and between you, six month old baby Oliver sits with a floppy ahead askew on his head, tiny hands exploring colourful toys.

You let out a tired chuckle, smile tinged with exhaustion. “He’s still wide awake,” you say, trying to keep your tone light.

Quinn sighs, waving a rattle in front of his son. Encouraging him to reach, stretch or turn. Anything to burn some more energy and tire him out faster. “I really thought the fresh air would work. That article made it sound like a sure-thing.”

Since arriving at the lake house, your sweet baby boy had decided now was the best time for a sleep regression. Quinn thinks it’s the change of environment and whilst you hoped that to be the case and after a week of adjusting, things weren’t improving. In fact, the past few nights have been the worst of all with Oliver waking up every few hours, leaving you and Quinn to take turns soothing him back to sleep for periods far longer than usual. Admitting defeat, you had both accepted that this was going to be your life for the next little while. That dark circles under your eyes might just become a permanent feature and coffee your new best friend. But every time you look at your baby’s bright, curious eyes, you’re reminded of how you used to hope and dream for this life. Nothing could ever be bad enough for you to wish it all away.

“It could be worse, right? At least he’s happy,” you reply, rubbing your eyes.

Quinn nods, his heart swelling with love as he watches his son play. He thinks about how much his life has changed in just a few months. The nights are shorter, and the days are filled with more challenges than he ever anticipated, but they’re also filled with immeasurable joy.

He rolls over onto his back and reaches for Oliver. He pulls him into his arms with ease, resting him on his lap. “It’s just way too fun at the lake, isn’t it, Ollie boy? All the swimming and boat rides. You don’t want to miss a thing,” he says, grinning, giving the small boy a little wiggle. Oliver drops the rattle with a grin and falls forward, lying flat on his father’s chest, his tiny hands clutching at Quinn’s shoulders in a hug. “Oh,” he laughs, smile widening, arms wrapping around his tiny body.

He sweeps his palms in soothing circular motions over the baby’s back, cherishing the moment. The softness of his son’s body against his own and the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. He knows these moments are fleeting, that Ollie is only ever going to be this small once. That soon enough, he will be crawling, walking, and running, leaving these quiet, tender moments behind.

You smile, watching Ollie’s energy ebb away under Quinn’s touch. “Look at him, finally lying still,” you whisper. His little lips are squished into a pout against his daddy's chest, making him look even more adorable. You reach out to gently brush your fingers slowly over his forehead and down the bridge of his nose repeatedly, an attempt to lull him into a slumber. Ollie’s eyelids grow heavy. “Remember last summer? We were talking about how different it would be here with a baby.”

“Nah, it won’t be that different,” you recall Quinn telling you one night on the porch. “Just a bit more packing and a few more naps in the day.”

Your hands came to rest on your growing belly. “Babies change everything,” you countered as a sudden rush of nervousness washed over you. It crashed into you, making you feel unprepared for the huge change in the horizon and all that will follow.

He shrugged, wrapping an arm over your shoulder. “It doesn’t have to change. We’ll just, I don’t know, make adjustments. We’ll get a couple of baby gates and a top notch baby monitor,” he said half jokingly, sensing your change of mood. He noticed the furrow of your brows and how you chewed on the inside of your cheek, a tell tale sign that you’re worried. Gently, he leaned in and kissed your forehead, letting his lips linger for a moment longer than usual. A reminder that you weren’t in this alone. “He’ll fit into our lives, baby. It’s going to be great,” he murmured, voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

Quinn’s eyes meet yours, soft with understanding. “You were right,” he breathes a chuckle, his hands still working circles against Ollie’s back. Sleep is close, he’s sure of it. “It is different. But it’s also better, too.”

You nod, heart brimming with an all-encompassing love. The way Quinn is gently soothing Oliver, his tenderness evident in every touch, makes you fall in love with him all over again. And your sweet, spirited boy, now peacefully relaxed and drifting in and out of almost-there sleep, breathing steady and synchronised with his dad’s. You’re acutely aware of the life you have built together and the perfect tiny human you’ve brought into the world.

“So much better,” you agree, shuffling closer towards your two favourite boys. You rest your head against Quinn’s shoulder, dropping a kiss to the back of Ollie’s hand. “I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

And why would you? The life you had both always envisioned is unfolding with a quiet beauty, and it’s more perfect than you could have ever dreamed.

[luvhughes43]

the beginning | jack hughes

au masterlist⭐️

summary: jack and yns relationship is super lowkey, but what happens when yn starts doubting why their relationship is so private?

warnings: pregnancy

word count: 5.6k

The first time you met Jack Hughes you were job shadowing a colleague of yours. It was your first real week of working at the New York Times, and with how busy the team's schedule was you were sent down with Lewis from the sports column to report on… something hockey related. You weren’t really sure, and Lewis didn’t care to fill you in. 

You had never given hockey two thoughts when you were growing up. Your father wasn’t interested in any sports aside from the usual football game on thanksgiving (which you had a theory he just watched to get out of festive activities and house work). And anyway, there was only one local ice rink where you grew up so you’d never really had the opportunity to learn about the sport. 

All that to say, you had no idea what you were doing. You watched Lewis pin his “The Athletic” reporters badge, and you fiddled with your visitors pass as you waited for the press conference to start. 

When the conference did start, you jotted down notes absentmindedly on your notepad. About halfway through the meeting, your attention is immediately pulled to a side door where a few men stood, snickering and whispering to each other. 

One of the men noticed you though, smirking half-heartedly in your direction as he nodded his head towards you. That small action caused the rest of the boys to look over in your direction. Your face flushed, and before you could look away your eyes connected with those of maybe the cutest guy you’ve ever seen. His hair was brown and overgrown, and his whole face lit up when he laughed. 

“Ow!” you whispered, rubbing your arm to try and alleviate the pain that was Lewis elbow knocking into your side. He pointed to the man speaking at the front of the room, and immediately looked away from you with an annoyed expression etched onto his face. “i’m sorry,” you whispered to Lewis but he shook his head in response. “pay attention.” his harsh tone brought you back to reality, and with one more glance at the cute man in the corner, you return all your attention back to the conference. 

⋆ ★

“Journalists still use notepads?” a teasing voice asks, and when you lift your head up from your notebook you see the same man from earlier staring at you. 

“We use recorders too but I'm just job shadowing so I didn’t think I needed it. Lewis the-” you stop your sentence short, well aware of the fact that this guy probably didn’t care about your writing tools or your coworker. 

The guy surprises you though. He leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and nods at you to continue. 

“Lewis, he works for the athletic paper. anyway, i was assigned to shadow him today because the woman who i was going to shadow had this breaking news story she had to cover,” 

“why didn’t you go with her?” the man asks, genuinely curious. 

“Well it's my first week and the woman is really particular about how she works. She said if I followed her she’d only get distracted,” you finish your story with the shrug of your shoulder. 

the guy nods in understanding before he pushes himself off and away from the wall. He squints a little and points to your name tag.

“Oh, i’m Y/n” you say, adjusting your name tag so he could read it properly. 

“I'm Jack” he smiles at you, and before either of you has time to say anything else, Lewis walks over to you grumbling. 

“It’s time to go,” 

you smile politely at Jack and he reciprocates. 

“See you around, Y/n” he raises his hand in a boyish fashion before retreating out of the hallway. 

⋆ ★

“It's so cold!” you shivered, voice quivering as you try to warm yourself up with the palm of your hands. you decided not to wear a coat tonight, against your better judgements, and now the frigid Manhattan air came to bite you in the ass. 

your friend nodded, teeth chattering as you two ran across the street and down the next block. 

your friends apartment came up first, and so she rushes out a quick goodbye before you set off down the street again. 

“Fuck! Where am I?” you hear a mans voice ask off in the distance. You wouldn’t normally try and investigate, but when you looked up and saw the familiar mop of brown hair, you made the decision to go over and talk to him.

“Jack?” you asked, hands still rubbing up and down your arms to try and provide you some warmth. 

Jack looks up startled, and once he recognizes it's you he relaxes again.

“Y/n right? From work?” he asks, and you nod as you step closer to him. The street lamps illuminate his face perfectly, hues of yellow and orange highlighting his features well.

“Yeah,” you nodded, face twisting in confusion as you watch Jack shrug out of his jacket. 

“I’ll let you wear my coat if you help me get.. here” Jack points to the blue destination point on his phone. 

You weigh your options, you could take his coat and help him out.. Meaning that you got to spend more time with him.. or, you could go home to the warmth of your apartment..

You hold your hand out for his jacket, and Jack smiles as he passes it over to you. 

You peer at his phone, taking a mental note of where he’s trying to go before leading him in the right direction. 

“Have you ever used google maps before?” you laugh teasingly, watching as the direction changes and the walk time gets shorter. “you were going in the complete opposite direction”

Jack chuckles, “my bad” 

The walk is silent for a minute, before Jack starts questioning you. “So… Do you usually take walks with strangers?”

“You're not a stranger, I met you like two days ago” you joke, knowing full well it's probably not wise to walk the streets with a man you've only ever spoken a few sentences to. 

Jack nods, and when you glance in his direction you see the hint of a smile grace his lips. “So, have you lived here long?” Jack asked at a stoplight. 

“I’ve lived in Manhattan for a year now. I did an internship last year for journalism and then they hired me” you explain as the walking light turns on and you both cross the street. “What about you? How long have you been in jersey?”

“I live in Jersey for the hockey season. I've been in Jersey for 4 years now? I think?” Jack speaks, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his NJD hoodie. “I grew up in Canada though, and I live in Michigan during the summers'' he explains.

“I’m from Denver, but I don't go visit much. I went to college here on the east coast and ended up staying through the summers to work” you speak, surprised at how easy it is to talk to Jack.

“I didn’t go to school,” Jack blurts out, and you bring your arm up to try and disguise your giggles as a cough. Jack seems embarrassed by his small outburst and quickly clarifies, “like I was drafted and went straight to the nhl” 

“That must’ve been hard” you hum, and Jack quirks an eyebrow at you. “Like, having to be in the real world so soon”

“you moved on your own at 18”

“Yeah but I moved for school. You were straight into the pros. That must've been a lot of pressure” 

Jack doesn’t respond, but you can tell by the way he’s carrying himself that your words rang true. 

“Anyway,” you pick up the conversation. “I really like living here. Yeah my hours are kind of insane, and rent is beyond… but I really like the city” 

“I think i’d live here,” Jack replies as he surveys the mostly empty streets. “there's always so much to do”

You nod, getting ready to cross the next street. “Uh, where are you going?” you call out, as Jack starts walking down the wrong street.

“There's a pizza place!” he says simply, and you stare at him confusedly before he explains. “I’m going to a bar, I can't drink without eating something” Jack shrugs and you walk to where he paused. He points to the small 24 hour pizza shop he wants to go to, and you both walk inside. 

After you both order, and you're sitting at your table with your food, you start to question things. “So, why were you wandering the streets? How did you get here from Jersey?” you ask, blowing on your steaming pizza before you take a bite. 

Jack mirrors you, taking a bite before he answers. “My friends and I all came together. They went out for dinner first but there was this shop I wanted to check out, they’ve got sick shoes, anyway that's not the point. they dropped me off at the store and so my plan was to just walk and meet up with them after but I… well got lost” 

You and Jack continue talking, time completely slipping by both of your minds as you let the conversation flow. You learnt that Jack did in fact like to read, and you made sure to give him a few recommendations before you both parted ways. 

“Do you want your jacket back?” you ask, already starting to shrug out of the warm material. 

He holds up a hand to stop you, “No you should wear it its cold-”

“I'm just walking back to my apartment I should be fine,” you say, shimmying your shoulder and letting the sleeve fall from your arm.

“Do you want me to walk with you?” Jack's question stuns you. 

“Aren’t you supposed to meet up with your friends?”

Jack only shrugs, “it’s only like 12 i’ve got plenty of time to catch up with them”

You nod slowly as you readjust Jack's coat on your body. 

“Plus, wouldn’t want you to take up any other stranger if they ask for directions” Jack jokes, “might make me jealous” 

You knew his comment was supposed to be a joke but… butterflies. Literal butterflies. 

Fifteen minutes later and you were outside of your apartment building. 

“Thank you” you say, “for the pizza and for letting me wear your jacket” 

Jack smiles at you brightly, and you couldn't help but smile back at him. It was like a natural reaction. 

“Thank you for taking me to where I needed to go,” Jack takes his turn in thanking you.

“But I didn't..” 

“It's the thought that counts” Jack grins as he pulls out his phone. “But, since you didn’t walk me to where i was going… i’ll accept your number as an apology”

“Apology?” you laughed, placing a hand over your heart and pretending to be shocked by his words. “If I recall you were the one who wanted to stop for pizza and to walk me home” 

“You're right, you're right,” Jack says, holding his hands up in mock surrender. 

“But I will give you my number,” you say, holding your hand out to accept Jack's phone. When you pass his phone back, your contact fresh in his list, Jack beams. 

“I’ll call you!” Jack yells out as he starts walking down the street. 

“How about you text me when you make it to the bar!” you shout back. “And by the way! You're going in the wrong direction!” you shout again, and Jack sighs loudly. He dramatically turns around before walking your way again. 

Before he has the time to say anything more, you give him a few directions so he doesn’t get anymore lost. 

Less than 30 minutes later, while finishing up your skincare routine, your phone lights up with a notification. 

Jack H: I made it! Thanks for tonight and for the directions

You went to sleep that night with a smile plastered onto your face.

⋆ ★

After that first “date” you and Jack routinely made plans to hang out. It started off with Jack texting you whenever he happened to be in the city, which then translated to you inviting him to all the new places in town you wanted to try. 

“I don't know how I feel about that,” Jack speaks in between spoonfuls of his ice cream. You two had just gotten out of an exhibit, something about ancient rome. 

“What? You never think about the roman empire?” you retort, thinking about Jack's interview that was posted earlier in the year. Jack rolled his eyes at you, but he smiled nonetheless. 

“Like, how do they even have all that stuff? It's been so long” 

“Yeah.. the armour was cool though,” you respond, shuffling across the crosswalk with Jack trailing after you. 

There’s a brief pause as you walk up White Street towards the little italian restaurant Jack wanted to stop at. 

“So, I was looking online and there’s this new exhibition popping up soon. Something about the elements and sensors… I don't know, it looked cool” Jack breaks the silence, and you have to bite back your smile. He was looking up exhibits for the two of you to go to? Last week he was talking about how much he didn't understand modern art!

“Since when are you interested in the arts?” you tease, knocking your shoulder against Jacks playfully. He looks down at you, eyes crinkled as he smiles. 

“It’s something to do,” Jack shrugs, “plus, let's not lie here! You’d love to hang out with me more,” Jack laughs teasingly, but you can sense the hope that lies beneath his words. 

“I’d love to hang out with you” your hand brushed against Jack without your knowledge. Your hand feels like it's on fire from the small contact. 

“It's a date then!” Jack cheers, grabbing ahold of your hand to steer you in the right direction. You could only hope he meant a real date. 

⋆ ★

The exhibit was great, but your time with Jack was even better. He always found ways to make even the most mundane things light up with colour. By the end of the night, you were positive that if you didn't ask Jack out on an official date, you’d lose your mind. 

Jack, ever the gentlemen, walked you up all 6 floors of your apartment. “I had a lot of fun tonight,” you say as soon as you reach your front door. 

Jack nods, easily agreeing with you. “I think i’m a changed man, that art thing was so cool” 

You laughed lightly, leaning against your door as you watched Jack ruffle his hair with his hand. “My turn to pick the activity next time?” you ask. 

“Yeah but no more ancient rome things” Jack easily jokes. 

“How about something more…” you hedge, unsure of how to ask Jack out. Of course you’ve asked him to go out places before but… this was very different. 

Jack leans against the staircase railing, tilting his head signalling for you to continue.

“Like…” you contine, all words escaping you as your attention is suddenly caught to the sight of his bare arms.

“A date?” Jack prompts, smirking as he catches you staring at him. 

Upon hearing the word date you're immediately crashing back to reality. Your hearts beating wildly, something you hadn’t felt since the early days of university. 

You nod, “yeah, yeah.. Like a date” you shake your head to clear it, and when you meet Jack's eyes he beams. 

“I’ll be waiting for you to text me the location then…” Jack's voice trails as he walks closer to you, leaning in as he presses a quick kiss to your check.

You stand there momentarily stunned, watching as he slowly walks backwards to the top of your floor's staircase. “I’ll see you on our date?” Jack calls out, and you mirror his bright smile. 

“I’ll see you on our date!” you call back, watching as Jack starts walking down the stairs. 

you were falling hard. 

⋆ ★

The big date came and went, and you and Jack continued dating silently. It was nice just being with him, away from all the pressures of his fans and his large social media presence. You had a small private account, so you would post some pictures on there, but you never officially went “public” with your relationship. 

Ynuser

Liked by jackhughes, claudia, and others

Ynuser life recently...

Tagged: jackhughes

That didnt mean there weren’t close calls though. With Jack being extremely popular, there were a few times when the two of you were photographed out by fans. 

After the first incident, you thought nothing of it. Of course someone would see you guys eventually. Although you weren’t sure how you felt about being photographed by random people out in public… Jack was always quick to reassure you that people would eventually forget about the photos. 

It wasn’t the forgetting you were worried about though. After being with Jack for a few months, your twitter feed started recommending you hockey content. Which was fine at first, until you saw all the speculations of yours and Jack's relationship.

You muted all the hockey terms you could think of on your twitter account… but that didn’t stop you from thinking of all those accounts words. Was it true that you weren’t Jack's type? Is that why he wasn’t posting you on his social media accounts? Did he actually prefer going to small coffee shops and art exhibitions? Or was he trying to hide you from the outside world? 

Even though you knew you liked your relationship being private… Was there an ulterior motive on Jack's end? Did he not find you pretty enough to post on main? You started to spiral. 

⋆ ★

The bar was much more crowded than you would've liked, but when your boyfriend invited you out you easily agreed. 

You sat in the corner of the booth all night, sipping on your vodka sodas and listening in on the conversation around you. The devils were doing good so far this season, and as a result, Jack had decided it was time to drag you out with him to the bar. You wished he hadn’t.

It’s not like you were an insecure person… (that was somewhat a lie), but when every girl was gorgeous and hitting on your boyfriend… it made you doubt things.

You watched all night as Jack looked at other girls, and your spiralling started to feel a lot more real. 

“Who is she?” you screamed, tears streaming down your face as your boyfriend of two years stared at you in shock.

“Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! I swear! It's you who-”

“When was the last time you slept together?” you shouted, your boyfriend winced at your biting words. 

“Last weekend…” your boyfriend finally admitted the truth. You had your suspicions that he was cheating on you for weeks now… and each time you brought it up he convinced you that you were crazy. “But baby!” his voice was frantic as you grabbed your bag and started shoving things into it. 

Your eyes were wild as you stared into the eyes of the boy that you had loved. When he had nothing else to say, you zipped up your bag and left. Your chest arched and your heart burned… you promised that you would never let yourself get cheated on again. 

A blonde touches Jack's arm. You know this because you're watching it happen, right in front of your eyes. You swig your now warm soda, blinking hard to will away the tears. 

You look away from the sight, causing you to miss the way Jack's eyes immediately try to seek yours after he brushes the girl away. 

The drive to your apartment was quiet. 

“Baby, what's wrong?” Jack asks, and despite how much you want to call him out, you feel juvenile about it. 

“Nothing,” you sigh, shifting in your seat so that you can look at Jack. He looks at you tenderly, as if whatever mysterious thing that's hurting you is hurting him too. 

“You can tell me anything, you know that right?” Jack speaks up again a minute later, this time his eyes are trained on the road. 

“I know,” you whisper. “I’m just tired. Work was busy today”

Jack hummed in response, and that was the end of the conversation. As usual, he walked you up to your apartment, and then you kissed him goodbye. 

When he left you stayed up in bed and questioned everything. You knew you were being insecure, but were you paranoid too? You didn’t want to be hurt again and you were fearful that you would be cheated on again. It was irrational, you knew. But your ex was always being hit on and he took one of the girls up on… no. You wouldn’t let that man ruin anything else in your life. 

Everythings fine… you whisper to yourself, and soon enough you fall asleep.

⋆ ★

Things got worse from then on. Whenever Jack was gone on roadies you would read through every comment you could find about Jack’s types, his ex gfs, anything that you could find. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to them. It was like some cruel, sick addiction that you needed to keep up with. 

user82

Liked by jackhughes, and others

user82 recently… 🍸

“She's just a friend! What are you talking about?” Jack was immediately defensive when you brought up his liking habits.

“Listen, I’m not trying to be some insecure girlfriend but-”

“You are insecure!” Jack's voice is loud and his words slice through you like swords. 

Your eyes immediately start to water, “baby, I didn’t mean it” Jack rushes to your side, hand on your shoulder as he tries to get a good look at you. 

“I’m sorry…” you cry, your hands coming up to shield your face away from him. 

“No, I'm sorry. You're not insecure you’re right” Jack tries to soothe you but your mind goes numb. 

Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…

You let Jack drag you over to the couch, where you spend the rest of the night cuddling and watching some movie that was really just static noise. 

Your chest aches and your heart burns, but you knew that Jack was right. You were insecure. You didn't think you were as pretty as the girls who wanted him, and now you certainly didn’t think you were deserving of an instagram post. 

Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…

Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…

Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…

⋆ ★

After that night, you tried to distance yourself from Jack Hughes. When he was on roadies, you would take extra long to reply to his texts. You were also suddenly picking up more hours at work, volunteering to cover stories nobody wanted to cover. 

On the other side of things, Jack was confused. He had thought after his apologies that everything would be fine? He thought you needed space, so he gave you plenty. But now it seemed like the two of you weren’t even together anymore. 

“Dude, just talk to her” Trevor's voice was somehow still loud over the phone. 

“Yeah but she wants space” Jack sighed, as if Trevor had no idea how girls worked. 

“Okay… and did she tell you that?”

“I can tell” 

Trevor shuffled on the other end of the line. “Okay Jack, listen. You guys have been together what? A year now? You can’t just throw away your whole relationship because she may or may not be a little insecure. Why don't you talk to her? Like actually sit and figure this out” 

For the first time, Jack thought, Trevor was making some sense.

“I want to be with you! Do you want to be with me?” Jack's voice was unintentionally rough and loud as he questioned you. 

“Of course I want to be with you!” your voice is just as loud. 

“Then what's the big deal!” Jack is visibly annoyed as if you're some person that's wasting his time.   

“Well, don’t like other girls' instagram posts and stare at models in public!” you retort, crossing your arms childishly. Jack throws his hands up in the air, sighing loudly. 

“I like you, what don't you understand?” Jack enunciates each word loudly and waves his hands around wildly in some effort to make his point clear.

“Why can't you understand that I just need some reassurance!” you cry out, completely worn out by this conversation. 

“Reassurance? I’m not going to cheat on you! Why do you think so low of me?” Jack pauses, seeming to connect the dots in his head. “Oh. this is about him” Jacks voice turns cold and you feel the oncoming sting in your throat. 

“Just because you’ve been cheated on before doesn’t mean that it's going to happen again.” your cheeks felt wet. Were you crying? 

“I don't think you’re going to cheat on me” you whisper, arms wrapping around yourself in a bad attempt at trying to calm yourself down. 

Jack stands still, staring at you with glaring eyes. 

“I just want… I want…” you can't even finish your sentence. You didn’t know what you wanted. You just felt so bad about yourself. 

Jack stares, nodding his head in exasperation as he watches you cry. “Yeah, well, when you figure that out call me” 

“Jack please,” you call to him through tears, following him down your hallway as you watch him walk away. 

You never called. 

⋆ ★

A month went by, and you felt the breakup in every aspect of your life. Work reminded you of that first day with Jack. Your apartment reminded you of all the times he would walk you home… you missed him. 

“We’re going out tonight! Enough being sad” your coworker, Claudia, exclaimed as she walked into your apartment. She was holding a saks bag, no doubt filled to the brim with outfit options for the night ahead. 

“I’m not feeling it” you mumble, eyes immediately finding focus on your tv screen. 

“It's been a month yn.. If you don't go out now, you're never going to” Claudia's voice is soft. She sets the bag of clothes beside you on the couch, and she silent starts showing you your options. 

“That ones cute” your voice is muffled but Claudia hears you anyway. 

“Perfect!” She smiles, setting your choice to the side and pulling out a plastic bag full of accessories. 

You felt ridiculous. You were wearing heels much too small, and your dress was way too tight. The drinks though… definitely hit the spot. And after a while, you didn’t think of Jack at all. 

“I’m having so  much fun!” your words were slurred as you slung one of your arms around Claudia's shoulder. She smiled happily at you, tipsily swaying your hips so you were both dancing to the beat of the music that was blasting throughout the club. 

“Is that…?” Claudia starts but then abruptly stops, almost as if she had seen a ghost. 

“Is that what!” you shout cheerfully, spinning yourself and Claudia around so that you could see what she saw. 

“Y/n don't!” Claudia tries to reposition you but it is too late. 

In the middle of the dance floor stood Jack Hughes, your Jack Hughes, and some girl that looked oddly familiar. As if sensing your gaze, the girl turned. It was the girl from instagram. 

“I’m going to be sick!” you moaned, hand covering your mouth as Claudia quickly rushes you outside of the club. Luckily, the two of you make it outside rather quickly, and then you're heaving onto the streets of New York. 

“I am so sorry! I had no idea that he’d be here!” Claudia speaks apologetically, holding your hair out of your face as you continue dry heaving. 

“He's with.. Oh my god” you emptied out what must've been everything in your stomach. “Claudia, he's with her!” you cried, drunkenly leaning into your friends side. Claudia grabbed hold of you, walking you down the street so that the two of you could hail a cab. “I know, i’m so sorry”

Once you were situated in the cab, you leaned your head against the window and closed your eyes. You pictured the look on Jack’s face when he saw you. Surprise, then shock, was it regret next? You weren’t sure. Then you imagined the girl he was with. Pretty, and perfect, and you wanted to cry all over again. 

“I'm blocking him!” you slurred, pulling out your phone and heading straight to your contacts. Claudia nodded along, concern etched in every feature on her face. 

Your hand hovers over the block button. “No! I’m deleting him! He's done. I don't ever want to talk to him again!” you cry, ignoring the cab driver's face as he looks on in disapproval.

“Do what will make you feel better hun,” Claudia speaks to you softly, giving you the courage to block and delete Jack from your phone and life. 

⋆ ★

After that night, you were steadily getting sick. You thought nothing of it at first, chalking up all your symptoms to stress and your recent breakup. It wasn’t until you checked your email that your world stopped spinning. 

Amazon: Upcoming Delivery

Hi Yn Ln,

This confirms your purchase from Tampax

Your visa has not been charged yet - we’ll email you when it has been charged.

Thank you for using Amazon Pay.

Your phone fell to the ground with a large thud, and you ran to your kitchen to check your calendar. You flipped through the pages, looking for the little red dots that signified the days that you had gotten your period. You flipped through the months.

February

January

December

You couldn’t think as you stuffed your feet into your ugg boots. You put your jacket on while you half-ran down the stairs, and if it weren’t for the man on the 3rd floor grabbing your arm to steady you, you would've crashed down the remaining flights. 

Your nearest bodega was only one block away, and when you got there a minute later, panting and trying to catch your breath, reality had finally set in. 

Your breathing was laboured and loud as you came to a stop in front of the pregnancy tests. How was this your life? 

You bought one of every kind, and you tried to ignore the burning gaze of the cashier who rang all your items through. 

“That’ll be $65.24” 

It seemed like less than a minute later you were back in your apartment. All of your surroundings blur into nothingness as you pull the tests out of your coat jacket. 

You stumble into your bathroom, slam the door shut behind you, and peel off your leggings. 

You decide to take all the tests at once, leaving only two for backups in case you did something wrong. The last test shook violently in your hand, and only then did you realize that you were crying. 

Positive

Pregnant

+

Two lines

⋆ ★

The first thing you had done when you found out you were pregnant last night was block Jack Hughes. He was the only person you had slept with in the past 3 months, and in your frustration you blamed him. Your relationship was over with, he had moved on, and now you were pregnant? Life was cruel. 

After a long debate, a night full of crying, and an afternoon of rest and relaxation… you decided it was best that you told Jack about the pregnancy. 

You type in Jack's contact: a nickname, two white hearts and a sword emoji that represented something you couldn’t quite recall in your panic induced state. When his nickname showed no results, you hit the backspace button and typed in his full name, which you assumed you might have switched to when you saw him out with another girl. 

No result. 

You dropped your phone into the sink with a loud clatter. 

fuck. 

That night's events replayed in your mind like a bad film. You had blocked and deleted Jack's contact. 

You wipe the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand, breathing in deeply as you reach into the sink and pick up your phone. Everythings fine… you have him on instagram. You can just message him there. 

jackhughes

unblock

Life truly was cruel, you thought, sobs racking your body as you let yourself slide onto your bathroom floor. 

You unblocked Jack, only to find that his follow was removed. 

It's fine… you reassured yourself as you hit the unblock button and started drafting your message. He’ll see it. He has too. 

⋆ ★

You checked to see if he had seen the dm the next evening, and to your surprise, you were blocked.

Tears immediately started blurring your vision and you couldn't help but cry out in pain. 

What the fuck were you going to do.

part two

[tkwrites]

Can I Come See You? - Quinn Hughes x OFC

gif from gabelandeskog

Title: Can I Come See You?

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts

Summary: After a rough game, Quinn seeks out comfort from Sarah. 

Warnings: some suggestive themes, swearing, other than that, it’s 98% fluff.

Word count: 4,600

Comments: I know I’ve been teasing the family reunion snapshot for a while now, but with all the heavy emotions September brings, I just haven’t been able to finish it. When this ask came in, I started writing right away, wanting some comfort myself. I’ve loved revisiting the beginning of Quinn & Sarah’s relationship while writing this Snapshot. 

Thank you, thank you, and thank you gain for your support and love! I have found such a lovely community here, and I’m so thankful. Even in this radio silence while I’ve been slogging through my grief, everyone has been so kind and supportive.  

If you enjoyed this Snapshot, please consider commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask about it. I love seeing what you think of Quinn & Sarah’s latest adventures.

Anonymous asked: Quinn gives cuddler energy 1000000% After a game, especially when they played bad and lost/gave up a lead. Immediately wanting Sarah cuddles to make him feel better. Do you think he ever went to hers after a game, giving Eunice a heart attack in the early days. Or did they mostly hang at his?

Can I come see you? 

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

If it wasn’t a Friday night, he wouldn’t have even asked. But it was, and he knew Sarah didn’t have to be up early the next day. And they’d lost. Epically. 

Midway through the third, they’d given up a three goal lead. On a power play no less. He’d, thankfully, only been on the ice for one. He didn’t know what he’d do if he’d given up more than one short handed goal in a two-minute span.

There was another game the next day, the third in four days, and he knew he really should go home and go to sleep. But Toch had canceled practice the next morning, and he was upset and feeling restless and just wanted to see her. 

It had been a long time since he’d felt this longing to be with someone and actually had someone he could go to. He called his parents, but there was still a gap there, telling him something was still missing. He wanted a more physical kind of comfort.

It was a miserable night, and Quinn thought seeing Sarah might make him feel a little better. He’d never asked her something like this. Hoping she wouldn’t mind, he fired off a text.

Sarah was in her room after the game – after an awful game – when Quinn texted. 

Can I come see you? 

Her heart leapt into her throat.

Quinn had never sent a text like this before, and she wasn't totally sure what it meant.  

He wouldn't come here to initiate comfort sex, right? That would be crazy. Her roommates were home. 

Maybe he just wanted…she had no idea what he wanted, but he'd respected every boundary she'd thrown at him so far, so she responded. Sure. Let me know when you’re here, and I’ll come let you in. 

Though they hadn’t slept together yet, she was thinking about it a lot, and they'd made out. She'd even let him take off her bra a few days before. Just thinking about that night — the reverent way he'd touched her, like she was a priceless piece of art, and the croaked, pleasured noise he’d groaned into her neck when their dry humping culminated in him coming in his pants — still made her thoughts buzz.

He asked for her address. 

She’d forgotten he’d never been to her apartment before. Not inside, at least. He’d dropped her off several times, but it was always at the end of a date, and at least one of her roommates was usually home, so it’s not like she would invite him up. Also, it seemed silly to go from his lovely penthouse to inviting him up to her little apartment. If they were going to do anything, it wouldn’t be here. 

My roommates are home, just so you know, she sent, not wanting to set unrealistic expectations. 

He reacted with a thumbs up. 

Normally, she would warn them she was having someone over, but telling Eunice Quinn was coming over would only give her more time to wind herself up. So Sarah stayed in her room until he texted that he was downstairs and slipped by her roommates without giving an explanation. 

When she opened the large glass door to her building, he was standing off to the side, hands shoved in his pockets and his head hanging forward, as if it were just a little too heavy to hold up. 

“Hey,” she said quietly, not wanting to startle him.

He still jumped a little, but when he met her eyes, he smiled — genuinely — as if he was just glad to see her. 

Her heart fluttered.

“Come on in.” Taking his hand, she pulled him into the elevator, which was, thankfully, still on the ground floor. They only went up five levels before she got off and led him down the hall, and scanned through door 538. 

Her roommates were on the couch watching an episode of Friends. 

They looked over, and one of them yelped before slapping her hand over her mouth. She continued to make muffled noise, her wide eyes darting between Quinn and Sarah. 

“This is Quinn,” Sarah introduced, though it felt perfunctory. They both knew who he was. “And this is Eunice,” she said, gesturing to her, “she’s a big fan and a little bit excitable.” 

Quinn recognized her. She was the one who screamed when he’d knocked on the glass at Sarah’s first game. Her brown hair, which was more frizz than curl, was pushed back with a headband. She was still wearing a jersey – Petey’s, thankfully – from watching the game. 

“And this is Jane.” 

She was tall and willowy, with pale eyes and a thick, dark blonde braid. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Jane said, standing up and offering her hand to shake.

Quinn grasped it, managing to pull a smile onto one half of his mouth. 

Eunice stood and followed suit, though he got the distinct impression that were they anywhere else with anyone else, she would be asking for a hug. “I can’t believe you’re in our house right now.” Her voice actually squeaked when she said it. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, not quite managing to pull full sincerity into his voice. Though he did feel it, he was too tired and too miserable to mask the disappointment. 

Eunice finally seemed to get over the shock of Quinn Hughes being in her living room. “Tough break tonight,” she said, leaning her butt on the armrest of the couch.

“Yeah,” he sighed. 

“Here, we can go in my room.” 

When Sarah’s hand slipped into his, his heart did an embarrassing little flutter. Hoping it didn’t show on his face, he followed her down the hall. 

He'd forgotten what it was like to move into a blank slate of an apartment. All the places he'd rented since moving to Vancouver were furnished, including curated, so-neutral-it-wasn’t-interesting artwork. Sarah’s apartment looked like a home - framed photos and unique paintings on the walls. 

Her room was simple. There was a full bed tucked under the window that overlooked the street and a desk. There wasn’t room for much else. A quark board above her desk was filled with photos of who he assumed was her family. Half a dozen babies with her same bright blue eyes or chocolate colored hair. He noticed the warm up puck he'd given her sitting on her desk, bracing the pages of a textbook open to an anatomical drawing of a seahorse. 

She sat on the bed. It was either the bed or her office chair, and they couldn't both fit on the chair.  

“What's up?” she asked after a minute or so of him looking around her room, his hands in his pockets. He was in his suit, a rain jacket over it against the wet, misty night, and had a knit hat pulled over his hair.

His eyes snapped to her. Something about seeing her in leggings and a loose t shirt, sitting on her blue and green patchwork quilt, made him ache. Longing bloomed in him to see her this comfortable somewhere where they could be together. Not together like this; together permanently. The thought stuck in his mind. Had he ever felt that way about someone before?

“I just wanted to see you,” he admitted, shoulders dropping.

“Oh.” The sincerity in his voice took her by surprise. The fact that he wanted to see her on a hard night sent a giddy, effervescent shiver through her. 

She patted the mattress, and relieved, he sunk down next to her. 

Sarah pulled his rain jacket off, throwing it over her office chair before asking, “this too?” as her fingers tucked under the collar of his suit coat. 

Usually, he would have shrugged it off as soon as he'd pulled away from the arena, but he'd been driving in the general direction of Yaletown, breathlessly waiting for Sarah’s reply.  

Nodding, he pushed his shoulders back so she could pull it off. 

She folded it much more deliberately than he usually did, matching the shoulders and making sure the arms were flat before draping it over his jacket. 

“You okay?” she asked, her hand traveling up and down his back. 

Her gentle touch and the sound of her voice sent a pang of relief through him. 

Experiencing Sarah sharing her emotions with him so openly somehow made it easier to reciprocate and trust she wasn't going to dismiss his or throw them back in his face later. 

He shook his head.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don't even want to think about it,” he said, leaning forward and raking his fingers into his hair.

Not quite sure what he meant, her hand paused on it’s journey smoothing over the soft material of his dress shirt. 

“Can we…” he glanced over at her. In the light from her desk lamp, his eyes were the color of cognac. “Can we lay down?”

Her lips pursed. It wasn’t that they hadn’t cuddled before. They had, but she still wasn’t exactly sure what it was that he wanted. 

“I just want to hold you,” he finally admitted. The vulnerability of saying it out loud knotted his stomach.

Her heart did a giddy little dance in her chest, and she barely held herself back from asking, really?  

“Sure,” she said instead, although it still came out a little breathy. “You've gotta take off your shoes, though.” 

As he toed off the sneakers, she scooted back, so she was laying nearest the window. 

He lay next to her. They stayed that way, side by side for a minute before Sarah asked, “how do you...?”

Extending his arm, he patted his side, inviting her to snuggle into him. She accepted readily, pressing her body to his. Really, he wanted her to hold him, but he felt a little too vulnerable to ask for that. 

A deep sigh let go as her hand rested on his chest. It had taken more than six months for him to feel this comfortable with June, for him to even think about asking her for comfort.  It was amazing to him that things with Sarah were so much easier. 

“What do you need?” she asked, tracing one of his buttons. 

Emotion threatened to choke his reply. Taking a moment to swallow it down, he tried to remember the last time someone had asked him that not related to improving his on-ice performance. Nothing immediately came to mind.

“Can you just talk?”

“About what?”

“Anything. Tell me about your roommates.”

“Well, Jane is a pediatric nurse. She works in the BC Children’s ER.” 

He let out a low whistle. 

“Yeah. It’s a rough gig sometimes, but she really loves it. She's actually headed to work in a few hours.”

He glanced at his watch, “at midnight?” 

“She works a lot of graveyards. 3 to 3 or midnight to noon. She coaches a youth lacrosse league on the weekends.”

“Really?” He felt Sarah nod. “My mom played lacrosse. She put all of us in it, too.” 

“Did you like it?” 

He shrugged, “I like hockey better.”

“Good thing you stuck with it, then.”

A breath of a laugh escaped through his nose.

“And Eunice is studying biomedical engineering. She’s on track to get her PhD.”

“Really?”

“Why are you so surprised?”

“I don't know,” he shrugged. “She just seems so…I mean, excitable like you said.”

“Oh, she's just dedicated to everything she does. She has a 4.0. I think it'd actually be higher if the scale didn't stop there. She does everything like that, you know? Doesn’t matter if it’s school or being a fan. She’s always 110% in. I don’t think she knows how to do anything halfway.” 

He hmm’d.

Falling into a companionable silence, Quinn sighed. He’d been looking for this his kind of comfort with another person his entire life. The first time he’d really felt it was on their first date, and it was a revelation. Each time it happened since then, it became a little less awkward. They might well be on their way to sharing the kind of quiet moments he used to see his parents have. Sitting together on the couch reading, or folding laundry together, or watching TV, just happy to be with each other. The idea of it made his chest feel buoyant enough to float away.

“How did you meet them?” 

“Eunice was advertising for someone new to move in on the school housing board. Their old roommate, Jenny, was getting married. So, I met them and saw the place, and it just worked out.” 

“Just like that?” 

“I guess?”

“I’ve never done that before.”

“What?” 

“Interviewed to be a roommate. I’ve always lived with teammates.”

“Not all of us have a built-in best friend squad.”

He snorted, and Sarah smiled. 

They eased into another quiet moment, and Quinn felt his eyelids grow heavy.

“Do you need anything?” she asked. 

“Hmm?” 

“Like, do you need anything to eat?” 

“I ate at the arena,” he said, “but I wouldn't mind something to drink.” 

As she pushed herself up and he resisted the urge to pull her back down. “What do you want? I have water, cranberry juice, or Ginger ale.” When he didn't respond, she continued, “I have some rum if you need something stronger, or I could make you some tea.” 

“I can't have caffeine this late. It’ll fuck up my sleep schedule.” Truth be told, it was probably already fucked just by him being here, but he didn’t want to inflict any more damage. 

She smiled, “I have peppermint, or a caffeine free maple that's really tasty as a latte.” 

“That sounds nice.”

“Okay. Do you want milk or almond milk?” 

“Almond, please.” 

“You got it.” As she crawled over him to get to the edge of the bed, she leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. 

His mouth was still buzzing when she left the room. 

Eunice came into the kitchen as Sarah was filling the kettle. “What are you doing?” she whispered as if Quinn might hear them from down the hall. 

“Making tea,” Sarah said in her normal tone. 

She could tell Eunice wanted to start interrogating her and pointedly looked the other way. She’d be happy to talk, but not while he was still here. Getting Eunice started on a conversation like that required a certain amount of commitment, and Sarah wasn’t willing to rehash the night until it was over.

She stayed in the kitchen, watching Sarah start the kettle on the stove and pour milk into the frother. 

“I can bring this to you when it’s done.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Yeah. Go be with Quinn. He looked like he needed some time with you. I’ll be in in a few.” 

“Okay.” 

As she walked back down the hall, she heard Eunice mutter something about getting Quinn to play better tomorrow.

Sarah winced, wondering if he was ever allowed to be human before being an athlete. 

Quinn looked up from his phone when Sarah came back in the room empty-handed. “No tea?” he asked, hoping his tone came off teasing. It was surprising to him she could start something and not finish it. 

Leaving the door cracked open, she got back on the bed and crawled over him, “Eunice offered to bring it in. It takes our stove ages to boil water.” 

He pulled her into him as soon as she got to his other side. As she bounced against him, she giggled, and it dissipated some of the angsty weight he’d been carrying around since the game ended. 

She snuggled up to him again, working her left arm under his back. He arched until her hand brushed his ribs.

“That’s okay?” he asked, settling back down. 

“Yeah.”

Though half of it was tied up, he threaded his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, then ran them through the soft strands. She made a contented little noise, so he did it again, just glad to be touching her. 

“Thank you for this,” he said, voice quiet. 

“For what?” 

“For letting me come over. For,” he moved so he could wrap his arm around her, squeezing her a little bit closer. 

“Hey, if cuddling makes you feel better, I’m always down,” she said, nuzzling her cheek into his shoulder. This kind of casual affection was what she missed most every time she broke up with all of her exes. Not to mention, she got so little physical touch being away from her family.

He chuckled, and it ended in a sigh. 

His free hand found hers, and he slotted their fingers together. 

“I really like you, Sarah.” 

“I really like you, too, Quinn,” she said, tipping her head back so she could see his face. From this angle, his nose was more pronounced. She had to resist the urge to pull her hand from his so she could run her finger down the ridge of it to feel the prominent bump. 

Sensing her stare, he turned his head, bringing their lips dangerously close. It only took a bit of stretching on Sarah’s part to bring them together. 

When he felt Sarah strain toward him again, he rolled onto his side to shorten the distance between them. Her hand stayed on his chest, and their kisses remained sweet, though the adjusted position allowed for a little more tongue, which he wasn’t mad about.

This was much softer than anything they'd done so far. It was nice to know they could just be here: not rushing to get undressed or into something more intense and physical. 

She loved this kind of lazy, slow kissing, but found it didn’t usually come until much later in a relationship, after all the first physical stuff was out of the way. To be kissing - making out without really making out - like this before they’d even had sex felt like a gift. Feeling his fingers run into her hair, bringing her face just that little bit closer to his Sarah sighed.

The way her chin moved in and out as they kissed, matching the rhythm of her tongue brushing his, lulled his body into a state of deeper relaxation than he’d felt all evening.

Pulling away just enough, she whispered, “you’re a really good kisser.” 

A zing of pleasure shivered through his brain and all the way down Quinn's spine.

 “Thanks,” he breathed, easing back to see her face. 

He gazed into her eyes for a few moments longer, trying to calm his thoughts. Once he was over the initial daze her compliment brought on, he realized he should probably say something else. Instead of blurting out the, I like being good for you, that popped into his mind, he said, “you make it easy to be.”

When she shyly thanked him as her cheeks pinked, he felt like he'd swallowed the sun. 

Unable to resist anymore, Sarah reached up to trace her finger down the bridge of his nose. “How did you break it?” 

“The first time, Jack punched me in the face in an intense game of mini sticks.”

“Mini sticks?”

“It’s like…” How did he explain this to someone who’d never played? “It’s like indoor, carpet hockey. You use these little plastic sticks and a ball, usually. We used to play in the basement. My mom talks about how we played so hard, we would shake the whole house.”

“That’s some serious competition if you’re getting your nose broken.” 

A breath of a laugh huffed out of him. “I deserved it. I was goading him on pretty bad, and he didn’t really know his own strength. I can still see the horror on his face when the blood started pouring.” 

She resumed stroking, her touch feather light and gentle, “how many times have you broken it?” 

“Three.” Quinn never thought he’d like someone touching him like this, but with Sarah, he found it comforting instead of irritating. It was like she just wanted to know every part of him. “The other two were pucks to the face.”

She winced. “That sounds painful. Those pucks are way heavier than I thought.” 

“It’s not fun,” he said. “Thankfully, the adrenaline is still pumping, so it doesn’t really hurt until after the game is over.” 

“You kept playing with a broken nose?” 

Nodding, he laughed, “they strap on a full face shield, and send you back out there.” 

An incredulous, protective look took over her face that Quinn instantly loved. 

“Don’t worry. They do concussion testing and reset it if it needs it before.” 

“That’s just…really?” 

He nodded.

“I keep seeing all these memes about how tough hockey players are, and I always thought they were kind of exaggerated.” 

“It’s a tough sport,” he said. “My goal is always to be swift enough on my feet to not get involved with the harsh stuff, but sometimes a puck just redirects, and bam, your nose is broken again.” 

The kettle whistled. 

As if by an unspoken rule, they pulled back from each other. Sarah’s hand dropped back to his chest. 

A minute later, Eunice gently hipped open Sarah's door, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs and the whole milk frothing machine. “I figured it would be easier for you to froth in here,” she said, setting the tray down on Sarah's desk. 

As she backed out of the room, she widened her eyes and quirked her brows a few times, giving Sarah a look that plainly said, you have a cute, famous boy in your bed, and we're going to discuss everything as soon as he’s gone. 

“Thanks, Eunice,” Sarah said through a tight smile, hoping Quinn hadn’t seen. 

“Sure thing,” she said before softly clicking the door shut.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a tea latte,” Quinn said as he rolled onto his back so Sarah could crawl over him again. The urge to pull her on top of him by her hips was so strong that he had to curl his fingers into the quilt. 

“Really?” she asked, plugging the frother into the outlet by her nightstand. 

He shrugged. 

The machine whirred to life.

“It’s good. I like it at night. The warm milk kind of puts me to sleep.” 

When it was done, she divided the creamy concoction into the two mugs and brought one to Quinn. 

“This is okay?” he asked, gesturing to the bed. 

“Yeah.” There wasn’t anywhere else they could go. If he spilled tea on her sheets, she’d just have him help her change them. 

Sarah sat opposite him, knees bent, her bare feet between his socked ones. 

Their eyes met over their mugs, and Quinn smiled. “This is really good, thank you,” he said, gently tapping her leg with his toe. 

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you came over.” 

“Are you still up for the game tomorrow?” 

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m planning on it.”

“And you’ll stay so I can take you home?”

She nodded. “Are you flying out again after that?”

He sighed, “yeah. On Sunday. We fly out to Dallas, play them on Monday, and then go to Colorado to play on Wednesday, and then I’ll be home for a week on Thursday afternoon.”

“I’m glad it’s not too long this time.”

“Me too.” A yawn split his face. He apologized, holding a fist over his mouth.

Shaking her head, Sarah said, “you’ve had a long day.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, downing the rest of the tea. “I should probably get home and get to sleep.”

While he pulled on his sneakers, Sarah set her latte aside and slipped on some sandals. 

Rain was pounding against the glass fronted lobby when they got downstairs. Looking down at herself, Sarah said, “I’d walk you to your car, but I’m not really dressed for it.”

Half of his mouth lifted in an indulgent smile, “that’s okay.” Gathering her against him, he breathed in the smokey smell of her perfume to fortify himself for the dash into the rain and the drive home. “Thank you again.”

Her hands slid under his suit coat, pulling him more tightly against her, “you’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, pulling back to look into his face. 

“Tomorrow,” he agreed, leaning down to kiss her. They were in public, so he knew he shouldn’t linger, but he did anyway, savoring her mouth as the last thing he’d taste that night. 

“Let me know when you get home, yeah?” she asked when they parted. 

He nodded, and she watched him jog away before heading back upstairs. 

Eunice was waiting in the entryway for her and immediately grabbed her hand. “Tell us everything,” she said, excitedly pulling Sarah down the hall to the bathroom where Jane was re-braiding her hair for work. 

Before she sat in the hallway outside the bathroom, Sarah got her unfinished tea. As she sipped, she explained how he ended up there. 

Both women awed when she recounted Quinn telling her he just wanted to hold her. Eunice broke in when Sarah got to the part about making tea.

“Jane, it was so cute. I walked by, and they’re cuddling. Then, when I came back, they were kissing. Like that soft movie kind of kissing - it looked so dreamy. Then when I walked by again –” 

“Why were you walking by so much?” Sarah demanded. 

Eunice didn't even blush, “I had to get my blanket.”

“And it took you two trips to do it?” 

“I forgot what I was getting the first time and had to come back to the living room to remember.” 

“Right,” Sarah deadpanned. 

“Anyway,” she said in an over-exaggerated tone, “when I walked by again, she was petting his nose.”

“Oh my god,” Sarah exclaimed, “I am never bringing him over here again. He’s going to think you’re some kind of psychopathic stocker for walking by all the time.”

“Oh, he had no idea I was even there,” Eunice said. “He was way too busy longingly gazing at you, Ms. Roberts. I don’t think he would have even noticed me if I was stomping down the hall like a t-rex.”

“He was pretty enraptured,” Jane said. 

“You too?” 

“I had to go to the bathroom. Mine was legitimate.”

“Oh my fucking hell,” Sarah moaned. 

“Why were you touching his nose?” 

“I asked him how he broke it.” Sarah smiled at the floor. “And I like his nose.”

Eunice snorted, “of course you do.” 

Cutting off Sarah’s incredulous look, Jane asked, “what was the best part?”

All of it, she wanted to say. The fact that he came over at all. That he just wanted to cuddle, the kissing… 

“He was really sweet. I told him he was a good kisser and he just looked into my eyes for a while before he goes, ‘you make it easy to be.’” 

“Oh my gosh,” Jane gushed, “really? That is such a good answer.”

“Will you just fuck him already?” 

Sarah let out a surprised cough, and Eunice continued, “I think he’s proven he’s not just in it for the sex.”

“I think I knew that from the start.”

“So why are you waiting so long to jump him?” 

“Eunice,” Jane admonished, “Sarah can take however long she likes to take that step.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eunice said dismissively, flapping her hands, “I just want to know what he’s like in bed.”

“Oh my god,” Sarah said, dropping her head into her hands. “I am never discussing my sex life with you.”

“Yes you will.” 

“No. I won't.” 

“You will,” Eunice said with a quirk of her brows. “You've told us everything else so far. I don't think you'll be able to resist.”

“You’re unhinged, you know that?” 

“That’s why you love me.”

Laughing, Sarah had to admit she was right.  

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