#quinn hughes x you

[ruinix]

Thinking about Quinn losing his shit after you surprise him with a tattoo of his number on your hip

Hello, lovely… I tried, of course. Let me preface this, let’s imagine the tattoo healed for exactly 2 weeks (google says: the minimum healing time of the (surface) skin is about 2-4 weeks, deeper layers heal for approx. 3-4 months)...so yes. What i wanna say is: Be safe. Hope you enjoy 😌

Breakfast & Tattoos

TW/CW: 18+ MDNI, Smut, Unprotected sex (use protection, silly), Tattoo healing inaccuracy (let it heal pls), Quinn being a literal Horny one

Count: 3544 words | Masterlist

You have that grin. A silly and mischievous grin. Quinn cautiously takes a sip of tea you brewed for him—you might’ve put something in it—but it’s just tea.

He greets you, receiving an immediate response. The grin never wavers even as he cooks you two breakfast. You’re…suspicious. Pretty with your comfy pajama shorts and—his—hoodie but suspicious.

He tries to let you be. Maybe you’ll drop it. Maybe you’ll just outright tease him for his bedhead, because his waves are all over the place from sleeping like dead after a two-week road trip. Maybe you just want to tell him something silly. Maybe. You always tend to do those things. He likes that.

He wants to ask, but you move to the sofa with your iPad, humming a tune. You’re on your back with your legs up an arm rest, feet covered with fluffy socks with strawberries. Still, you throw glances at him, grinning whenever he meets your gaze. He hears the upbeat sound of a game. You definitely found another game. That must be it. You love your games especially on that specific iPad—that was his, now yours—with those stickers of him.

Stickers. They’re cute, but he can’t help the blush on his face whenever he sees them. You’ve never stopped buying stickers from Etsy or from artists on different social media. Of him. It doesn’t matter if it’s memes or little cute cartoons. It’s just him. He knows your little hoarding box where you put your spares which also got their own spares—spare of a spare, you describe them.

It’s adorable but the way he looks so haunted in some of them... He can’t help it. It’s his face.

It’s funny and a bit embarrassing—in a good way

But he never feels bad about it. Not when you cherish every sticker. Not when you are so giddy and filled with excitement every time you buy one. Not when he catches you just gazing at them before hugging it so tightly.

Quinn has to turn away. His cheeks are burning. You make him feel good even through cute little stickers.

Sighing, Quinn finishes up with breakfast. He takes the plates to the coffee table, jumping when you suddenly sit up. You give him a fat smooch on the cheek before you mutter about getting him more tea and your coffee. But, fuck, his cheek burns from your touch. The kiss is soft and quick, but it seeps down to his bones, down to his… It’s way too early to be horny.

Quinn shakes his head, trying his best to clear it. However, he catches your shorts glide up your thighs when you bend over to get something from the lower cabinets. Oh, he’s fucked. It’s not helping how he notices your lace panties imprinting through your shorts.

Somebody, help him.

He looks away, counting down from ten to one, up from one to ten. He’s hard. It’s fucking eight in the morning. What the fuck is wrong with him? He closes his eyes for a second, thinking about hockey, practice, and literally anything else. He fails. His mind keeps showing him the image your ass, grinding against him as he fucked you—

“I think I want some orange juice right now,” he forces out, planting one foot up to hide his erection. He needs something to cool him down.

“mm’kay!” Your sweet voice just made him painfully harder.

“Thanks,” he coughs out. “Maybe a couple of ice?”

“Anything for my Quinny,” you say in a singsong voice, then you start humming a tune, moving your hips with it.

Fuck.

Quinn might need to lock himself in the bathroom at this point. You’re not letting him catch a break. How can he not get turned on after not having his fill of you for two weeks? He can see the jiggle of your ass. He can see your pebbled nipples through your thin and cropped shirt, because you just got rid of your hoodie. Why did you get rid of it? The air conditioning is literally on.

Thank fuck he’s wearing his boxer and his black sweatpants. There would be a dark patch there, because he’s leaking pre-cum. He might even come right there if you don’t stop—

“You want the one with pulp?” you ask, weight in one leg, while holding two orange juice cartons.

“Any,” he barely says, catching a glimpse of something peeking out the waistband of your shorts—what exactly is it, he doesn’t know—but you quickly turn away, bending over again which distracts him. “You slept good when I wasn’t here?” Quin pathetically asks, trying to shake away his hard-on away by pure will—it’s not working.

“Yep,” you gleefully say, finally finishing your instant coffee.

Quinn makes a mental note to make your usual brewed coffee later. He can’t just let you with a cup of instant coffee throughout the day. That’s not okay. His sweet girl deserves the best after all.

Well, after he cools the fuck down.

He settles on the floor, snatching the fleece blanket from the couch to cover himself. He swallows a groan when you slide into the same blanket, leaning against him. Your heat only seeps down his cock more than his shoulder. You are killing him.

He stiffly drinks his juice, shuddering when you kiss his cheek again. He almost doesn’t kiss your cheek too, because he’s a hair away from losing control. But he still does. He gives your cheek a peck. He wishes to kiss you deeper, bend you over the coffee table and just fuck you. He knows you’ll agree if he asks. He knows you’ll let him have his way with you.

He knows.

But he hears your tummy rumble.

He can’t fuck you when you’re hungry. You’ll need energy. Besides, it’s fucking 8AM. He’s so close to punching himself as a reprimand. No one should be this horny this early. That sounds hypocritic, because he remembers several times where he waited for you to wake up so he could fuck you sideways, kissing you through your just-woken-up haze.

Someone needs to bash his head until he gets amnesia.

He’s digging himself a deeper grave. Seriously.

Quinn focuses on breakfast. He loves breakfast with you. He loves it when your weight is partially on him. When you take sips of your coffee, urging him to drink his own beverage. When you talk about what you’ll be doing for work or for your day offs.  When you snatch some of his eggs and replace with potatoes or the other way around, because wanting more of one depends on the day. Today, you are doing the latter. All while, you grin at him with so many things brewing in your eyes.

He finally says, when you two are almost done with breakfast, “Okay, you are acting suspicious.” He narrows his eyes just a tad. “What are you planning?”

You turn and hug him from his side.

Quinn expertly holds you without you getting on his cock. It’s so hard. Especially when you shimmy to get more comfortable over his thigh. He almost starts pleading for you to move and get off him, because you’re so near.

“I have a surprise for you.”

A surprise? He blinks, repeating the word over and over in his head. For him? You have a surprise for him? Excitement courses through his body, temporarily distracting him from his aching member. He likes your gifts. He feels special whenever you give him something. It doesn’t matter what it is. Cookies, shirts, chocolates, a piece of candy. Even if it’s a kiss. Especially if it is. Speaking of a kiss, he wants to kiss you right now.

And he’s back to being a horny fucker.

He can’t help it. Your lips look so delicious, so damn kissable. When you run your tongue over your lower lip, biting it after, he’s done. He kisses you. Languidly. Unhurried in any way. The best thing about kissing you is you kissing back with the same intensity. When he deepens the kiss, tongue sliding past your lips, you are ready for him. You taste like your coffee and it’s perfect.

He missed this while he was away. He doesn’t know how he survived last night with a simple kiss to your forehead. He’s a fucking idiot. He missed out. Not that kissing your forehead is less than your kiss. No. Never. Just kissing your skin makes his heart ache. Just feeling your warmth is enough.

However, kissing your lips while breathing in your exhales, your moans, and your groans, that’s one way to live. If only he can exist with your air. If he can only kiss you every second of his life. If only.

When he parts from you, he feels your chasing lips as his. You two want so much more than a kiss. It’s not enough. It’s never enough.

Still, he must know what your surprise is. He needs it.

“A surprise, huh?” he murmurs, getting distracted by the flush on your cheeks. Wow. Just…wow. “Surprise for what?”

“I don’t need a reason to surprise my boyfriend.” Your nose scrunches, clearly and teasingly dissatisfied with his stupid question.

He can’t help but grab your cheeks, chuckling when you pout for good measure. When he caresses his thumbs over your skin, it makes you relax further into him. Your lips are red from the kiss. So plump. So wet from each other’s saliva. If he kisses you again, right now, he might end up just coming in his pants. Later. In a bit.

He coaxes, “What is it?”

You’ve hypnotized him when you drag your nail over his jaw and kiss along it. He can only cling to your waist. A whine left his lips when you let go. Where the fuck are you going? You can’t just leave him—

“Close your eyes,” you say, putting a halt to his thoughts. There’s that devilish gleam again, yet you add, “Please?”

You don’t need to say please. Quinn closes his eyes, immediately hearing the clatter of dishes and mugs being taken away. His hands curl into fists, turning irritated. You don’t need to clean up for him. He can do it, but he keeps his eyes closed, not wanting to betray your wishes. You are surprising him. He’ll be an idiot if he tries to sour the mood. But he dislikes it. If you’re going to do the dishes, he’ll do it with you. He doesn’t like not doing things with you, especially when it’s the regular season. He’s always away. It’s exhausting but you make it better.

One moment he’s horny. The next he’s acting pathetic.

“You’re overthinking, Quinn.” Your gentle voice hums, easing his troubled soul.

He feels and hears you sit down in front of him. On the coffee table. He fucking shivers when your feet brush the outside of his thighs. No blanket can mask your warmth, your touch. He can feel your eyes running all over him. His face. His neck. His hair. His chest. His cock. He really, really, really might fucking come.

He can hear your shaky inhale. You finally notice. Your voice turns higher, “Come closer.”

He does it. It’s more of moving the low table rather than scooting closer. Oh, the tiny squeak that you let out is adorable. You always forget that he’s strong. You’ve admitted that to him, that he looks small on ice, that he’s cute. He couldn’t blame you. He is just 5-foot-10 around people who are 6-feet and taller. You told him he looked like he wouldn’t be able to lift you. So, Quinn learned to remind you that he can lift you and more.

Now, his mind pesters with image of you against the wall, legs around his waist while he fucks you hard. That’s his favorite way to prove it—Can he fucking stop? Seriously?

He feels your touch over his shoulders, thumb rubbing into his muscles, up his neck, up his jaw. Soon, you have your forehead against his. Quinn’s trying to feel the table any clues about your surprise. So far, he hasn’t found any. He’s so curious. Just what is it?

“Open your eyes for me, handsome.”

Quinn does. He instantly gets mesmerized by your eyes, the eyelashes delicately framing them, your blinks. You’re just beautiful. He won’t have any complaints if this is your surprise. A simple eye-to-eye contact minute with you. Now that’s an amazing gift. Because now, he sees the details of your eyes—the darker and lighter specks of your color and the impossibly wide pupils.

“I love it,” he says with satisfaction.

You laugh, blushing so hard. “You’re silly.” You kiss the tip of his nose, taking his hands to plant it around your waist. “Look down…”

Again, he does. He gazes at every inch of you like he hasn’t. He can’t help but feel your breasts, thumb swirling over your nipples that were begging to be seen and touched and freed from your shirt. After hearing you moan and making your back arch into his touch, he moves on, smirking when you grumble about your need. Later.

He teases your skin, your navel. He’s so lost seeing how you tremble, hips slightly moving and trying to create friction. He bet you’re soaking through your pretty panties—

Quinn stills the moment he catches something on your skin. On your hipbone. What the fuck. What the fuck is that?

His heart hammers against his chest as he hooks a thumb into your shorts and tugs down.

Holy shit.

No matter how much he blinks it doesn’t change.

A tattoo. A fucking tattoo on your left hip.

‘QH43’, it says.

Quinn is literally felt his stomach flutter with fucking butterflies, thumb subbing over it, trying to see if it’s temporary, but it doesn’t have a shine nor does it crack.

He should be worried. It must’ve fucking hurt. It’s over a bone. He should shake you and ask if you got caught up in a dare. He should be livid you kept this from him. Tattoos are big decisions. You always confide in him for big decisions. You didn’t have this when he left for the road trip. It looks healed. He should’ve been with you and helped you take care of it. Damn it.

Yet, the more he looks at it, the more desire courses through his veins. It melts his worries.

It’s just ink in your skin. Ink in your blood. His fucking initials and numbers on you. Permanently. Forever.

QH43. Just four characters in a normal script. So simple yet it’s enough to get him all shaken up.

“Why?” He asks, taking a hand into his cock. He looks up to your eyes, except you aren’t looking at him. You’re staring at what he’s doing with a blush on your face like you haven’t seen him jerk off, haven’t seen his dick in your pussy. You’re cute.

“Because I want it.”

“It’s bad to have your boyfriend’s name tattooed on your person.” Quinn wants to smack himself for saying that, because he likes it.

“Good thing it’s his number.” You crossed your arms, smirking and unfazed. “Besides, my boyfriend will never leave me. He promised me all the time.”

“Yes. I will never leave you.” He nods, moaning when you put a hand over his cheek. “’m so turned on.”

“I can see that.” Your nails scratch over his jaw again.

He’s losing it. “Did it hurt?”

“It stung but not too much. Want help?”

Quinn shakes his head. He needs an initial relief. His hand will do. For now. He can’t help but preen as you snatch away the blanket. Sweat starts to bead on his skin as he nudges his pants down, tightly gripping and working his cock. Fuck.

“Wanna cum on it?” You ask, your voice shaking as you pant. You lean back, planting your hands on the table, spreading your thighs wide, showing him the wet patch over your thin shorts. You’re evil for that.

Quinn doesn’t know he can get any harder, but he does. Especially when he can basically smell you, taste you through it. He missed this so much. An ache forms in his chest for missing out, for not being with you.

“Is that safe?” Quinn moans, swiping a thumb over his slit, shivering as his pre-cum dribbles down his length. Totally forgetting how he was rubbing it a minute ago, he gasps, “Don’t want it to hurt.”

“It’s healed,” you reassure. “Ugh, I hate my panties. They’re so wet.”

See, you’re really complaining. The annoyance is clear on your face, but it’s cute as fuck. You shimmy your shorts and panties down, shivering when your arousal creates a string from the lace to your pussy. You still sit at the table, waiting for him to come on you.

“You’re killing me, my Love.” Quinn crawls up to his knees. “All wet for me?”

“Yeah.” Then you slide one hand over your pussy, parting it for him, making him see you quivering hole. “You really like my tattoo?”

Quinn can only nod. There’s a lump in his throat. He’s panting as he chases his relief. The way your pussy drip is getting to his head. Fuck, why is he still jerking off when your pussy is right there? He scoots closer, sliding his cock along your pussy. Both of you groan. You feel so good and he’s not even inside.

“Quinn,” you gulp, hands coming up his shoulder. “Maybe. You can jerk off later? I’m right here. I need you, handsome.”

He feels your pain and he feels the same. He presses his dick in your entrance. He warns, “I’m going to come soon.”

“Yes, please.”

Something snaps.

It’s his control.

You really know how to make him lose it. Those two fucking words. It might as well be a prophecy. He will listen and make it happen rather than wait for it to come true.

One smooth movement, he’s inside. His eyes nearly roll up as your pussy squeezes around him, seemingly determined to milk his cum out. By some miracle, he doesn’t come right away. He doesn’t it matters he did. He fucks you with urgency.

You feel divine. Your pussy. Your heated skin. Your arms that slot over his shoulders, urging him to fuck you faster. Your long nails dragging red stripes down his nape and back. Pain and pleasure sears down his soul.

“Quinn,” you call, tugging at his hair.

He moans your name like a prayer just for you. For his Love eternal. Fuck, he deeply loves you so much that it. More than anything in this world. You are the light of his life. Light, not a flame that would burn him. A light makes everything clear and visible. He’ll never get lost with you by his side. Lost in you, now, that’s a different topic.

He catches sight of a sweat dripping down from your temple, your cheek, your jaw, your neck, to your collarbones. He’s there, licking it up from its destination and up your jaw. Fuck, your taste—the saltiness, your scent on his tongue—is alluring.

Your moans mix with his, drowning out the buzz of the air-conditioning, the slight creaking of the coffee table, the ringing of his fucking phone. Who the fuck is calling him this early in the morning? It doesn’t matter. Not important right now. No.

Your hands cling to his arms, nails digging deep crescents into his skin. When his thumb circles your clit, he feels your pussy walls contract and pulse, making him come deep inside you. One spurt. Two. Three. Then he pulls out, so he spills right over your tattoo. You both pant, watching his cum make a mess on your skin, watching the cum dripping down your used pussy.

Your hand wraps around his cock, squeezing him fucking dry, making sure every drop is on your skin, your hips, and your thighs. He can’t help but gasp, forehead resting against yours.

He can’t believe he got you to come before him when he was so close to the edge.

So happy that you did.

So fucking ecstatic that he starts rubbing his cum into your skin, swiping its thickness into your damn tattoo, making sure it’s thoroughly coated. This is what you wanted. He also fucking wants it. His other hand travels to your pussy to push his cum back in. Your thighs quiver, shaking. Your moans and whines are loud and clear in his ears.

Fuck, he’s still so hard.

And you know it. How can you not? You’re holding him. It’s so evident that he’s ready for more.

You meet his eyes as you pant. Your lips are so red from being bitten. Quinn reaches up, taking his pushing his thumb slicked with his cum in your lips. When you immediately lick and suck on it, he can’t stop himself from grinding on your pussy. You’re just as greedy as him.

He loves that and he needs to fuck you again.

“Another?” he pleads.

“Yes,” you murmur, kissing his thumb. “Please.”

You don’t need to say anything else.

[wintfleur]

❝ IM KNOCKING THAT KITTY CAT OUTTTT ! ❞

𝓲. 𝑜𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗐𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖺𝗌 ⨟ 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖺𝖻𝖼 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌

` . . ── 𝓹airing 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗇𝗇 𝗁𝗎𝗀𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗑 𝒇 ! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝓻oro's msgs : 𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗑𝖺 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒 ‘𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾’ 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗆𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖾… 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖺𝖼𝗍��𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖤 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽 😛

ᆼᆽᆼ 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 & 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 ！

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

You have given him the title ‘king of aftercare’ and he always gets so smiley whenever you call him that. Quinn is a sweetheart; all he has on his mind is to take care of you. He’ll carry you into the bathroom for a shower and bath, helping you wash your body and placing soft kisses on your shoulders. Or if you're not ready to get out of bed he’ll go quickly get a warm wet cloth to gently clean you up, he’ll cuddle you in bed, his hands massaging your sore muscles, his fingers caressing your body, his lips whispering sweet nothings and placing kisses all over your face. He always makes sure you drink some water after, or get you a snack if you want one, he always takes care of you first. Aftercare is essential to him, with lots of snuggles. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On you, it's your thighs. He absolutely loves burning his face in them, biting and kissing at the skin to litter them with marks of his love. Whenever he’s sitting next to you he always has his hand on your thigh, gripping the plush skin or just softly caressing it. When he's stressed he fidgets with your thigh, squeezing or tracing random shapes on it. You have caught him many times admiring your thighs in certain outfits. He loves resting his head on your thighs, your fingers in his hair lulling him to sleep. 

On him it’s his shoulders, he likes how strong and dependable they are, and the fact that you are always finding a way to touch them is a plus. Whether it's you leaning against him and resting your head or chin on them when you are talking to others, or the feeling of you digging your nails scratching them as you ride him. Or when he picks you up from a night out with your friends, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder as he carries you to the car, you drunkenly mumble about how comfy his shoulders are as you slowly drift off in the safety of his arms. When he’s stressed or tired, your hands are rubbing away at the tension, pressing soft kisses all over them. He will always catch you admiring them, especially during the summer when most of the time he's wearing no shirt. You love to playfully bite at them, just to see his reaction. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Quinn is a very possessive man, so he loves seeing you covered in his cum. Your face, tits, thighs, ass, stomach, he will cum anywhere. But his favorite is to cum deep inside you, filling you up with his seed as he watches you fall apart on him. He loves the idea of you going on with your day, stuffed with his cum. Quinn can get messy, scooping some of his cum up with his fingers, bringing them to your lips, and watching as you lick and suck them clean. He loves cumming in your mouth, spitting on your tongue when you open your mouth to show that you swallowed it all, calling you his good girl. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Quinn loves to see you cry, those pretty tears rolling down your cheeks as you fall apart on his cock again and again. He wanted to be the reason you cried, not because he hurt you, but because he made you feel so good. Crying so prettily from overstimulation, barely being able to get out any words from your cries and moans. The sight of tears slowly rolling down your cheeks as you choke on his cock drives him insane, pushing your head down further. He will kiss all your tears away, addicted to the taste, telling you how pretty you are when you cry. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Quinn has plenty of experience and he’s a quick learner, so he definitely knows what he's doing. He enjoys learning everything about you, memorizing you like the palm of his hand, learning everything you love and hate. He loves helping you learn about what you like, helping by guiding you and talking you through it. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He thinks it's cruel if you ask him to pick just one. He loves doggy, gripping your hips and thighs as he fucks into you, guiding your hips back against him. He loves watching as your ass bounces from the hard thrusts, reaching under you to either play with your clit or grope your tits. He’ll grab you by your neck and pull you back against his chest, whispering the filthiest things in your ears. He’ll push your face into the pillows if you're being too loud. He loves going balls deep into you and just stopping, watching with a cocky smirk as you struggle to take him all, your thighs trembling at how deep he is. Placing kisses all over your neck, shoulders and back. 

His second favorite would have to be mating press. He loves how intimate and passionate it is, the feeling of your bodies so tightly pressed against each other. The thrusts are hard and deep from his weight, his hold on your body tight as he presses into all your soft and sweet spots. Hot breath fanning each other's faces, sloppy kisses being interrupted by loud moans. Intense eye contact is shared while he whispers the naughtiest thighs or the sweetest things to you, telling you how good you're taking his cock or telling you how much he loves you. Quinn feels like he's going insane at the feeling of your hands gripping his body and the sound of your desperate moans in his ears along with the sound of skin slapping. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not really, he tends to be more serious, enjoying romantic and intimate moments. Sometimes there might be a euphoric giggle or a laugh from a badly timed sexual innuendo, but he likes to keep it intimate and passionate. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He wants you to feel his love through everything he does, during sex or not. He is head over heels in love with you, so you will be relishing every second of the intimate connection you share. Sometimes he can't put into words how he feels so he does his best to show it through his actions and lovemaking. He wants you to only focus on him and the moment, to get lost in the love and pleasure. He will show his love with soft touches, hand holding, forehead kisses, i love you, whispered in your ear. Quinn will make you a nice dinner or take you out, lighting some candles, and even playing some music to really set the mood. Essentially, whatever you want.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He likes to think he jerks off a normal amount, when he is stressed or when he’s away and misses you too much, if he’s lucky the two of you will be on Facetime but if not he will jerk off to the Polaroid pictures he took of you that he has saved in his wallet. Quinn is so wholeheartedly obsessed with you that he wouldn't be able to cum without your help. He likes to tease you and jerk off in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours as he takes his time, watching as you barely hold yourself back from doing it instead, begging to help him, wanting to taste him on your tongue; but he doesn't let you. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink - He loves filling you up with his cum, squeezing your hips as he lets out a low groan. He’ll stay deep inside you for a few moments, listening to your pretty whimpers before he slowly pulls out, watching his seed drip out. But he’s not letting you waste a drop, his fingers are quickly stuffing it back inside of you. Not only does it feel good and it drives both of you crazy, but the thought of you carrying his baby makes him want to tie you to the bed and fill you up over and over again until you can’t take anymore. He loves cumming deep inside of you and then pulling up your panties, having you go about your day with a stuffed pussy. 

Somnophilia - Quinn will come home late after a game and he’ll see his pretty girlfriend sleeping peacefully in bed, he’s still so worked up from the game that he’ll quickly undress and carefully slip into the bed behind you, slipping into your already wet pussy, slowly fucking into you as he places soft kisses all over his shoulders and neck. His hands will slowly move up and down your body as he gropes your sweet and sensitive spots. When he comes home from an early practice and you are still asleep in bed, He loves the cute little confused whimpers you let out at first as you wake up, but they are quickly followed up by your loud desperate moans as your hands are grabbing onto him. He also loves waking up to your pussy or mouth wrapped around his cock, deep groans and moans leaving his lips. He loves the trust that comes with it, the fact that the two of you are so comfortable with each other. 

Brat taming - oh he loves it when you are a brat, it gives him such a good excuse to put you in your place. He loves how cocky and mouthy you get, thinking you are in control and can get what you want, and Quinn will play along being patient, but only for a little. He’ll make you come over and over again until you're a sobbing, shaking mess. He’ll mock your moans and taunt you about how you said you could take it all, he’ll have you so overstimulated tthat he only thing you can do is moan and promise to be his good girl. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere in your home; couch, shower, kitchen counter, but preferably the bed, he can have you in so many positions, so many possibilities. He also has a guilty pleasure of fucking you in his car, obviously out of sight from anyone. Whether it’s after a game and he just needs to let out some pent-up emotions, or after a date night he’ll help you into the backseat and have his way with you, neither of you is patient enough to wait until you get home. Messy kisses, heavy breathing, and shared blissed laughs after. Another favorite place of his is the boat during summer, you riding him in the driver's seat or him having you bent over one of the seats. It's just so easy to pull your bathing suit bottoms to the side and slide in, passing you his beer after he takes a sip as he fucks into you, chuckling as you try to hold in your loud moans, oh he will talk you through it all….

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Honestly, everything you do turns him on, but here are a few specific things. He loves just doing normal things with you and being domestic like, cooking dinner together, watching TV, and getting ready for the day, it really gets him going. Your scent drives him crazy, your perfume, your natural pheromones whatever it is it drives him crazy. Sometimes he’ll get a good whiff when you guys are out in public and he’s immediately flustered when he feels his pants tighten, oh that innocent smile you give him because you have no idea what's going on is the final nail in the coffin. When he's home alone because you are away on a trip or something, he'll lay in your shared bed and smell your lingering scent all over the sheets, next thing he knows he's fisting his cock. 

He loves when you are clingy, pressing up against him when you're sitting next to him, or how you will hug him from behind while he cooks, or when he’s reviewing games you will snuggle up on his side just wanting to be close to him. How you always reach for his hand wanting to hold it, or how you will hold onto his arm as you walk alongside together. Feeling your body pressed against him, and how you feel so comfortable with him, really gets him going. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Quinn is a jealous and possessive partner, so he wouldn’t like anything involving sharing you or letting anyone see you in such an intimate way. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Quinn’s mouth was made for worshipping you, he wants to be smothered between your thighs. You like to tease him about how he doesn't eat, he feasts. He literally craves your taste when he's away, being able to jerk off just to the thought of being back between your thighs. He will eat you out to de-stress. He loves waking you up with his head between your thighs, the feeling of his mouth making you up. Sometimes you will just be sitting on the couch waiting for Quinn to get back home from a game or practice and before you could even open your mouth to greet him, he's dropping to his knees in front of you and spreading your thighs, moaning at the taste of you. He’s very talented with his tongue, he won't stop until he has your thighs trembling and tears rolling down your face. He will go feral if you sit on his face. 

Quinn loves when you have your lips wrapped around his cock, struggling to fit his length in your mouth as you look up at him with your pretty watery eyes. He loves to talk you through it, his hand in your hair, pushing you down further, telling you how pretty you are with your mouth stuffed. He thinks you look so pretty, so much praise and moans will leave his lips. He’ll get louder the closer he gets, he loves cumming down your through, smirking when you open your mouth to show that you swallowed it all. He definitely whines and whimpers…

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It really just depends on the mood, he likes it fast and rough but he also loves it slow and sensual. If he’s in a teasing mood, he’ll go extra slow which will just have you begging for him to go faster. Sometimes he just needs a rough passionate fuck after a rough game/practice. Or sometimes he just wants to be slow and sensual, taking his time with you and dragging everything out so the release would be even better. But really it just depends on what you are in the mood for, he always wants to make sure you are feeling good. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He will never say no to a quickie whether it’s a quick blowjob or a quick fuck, but he definitely prefers for the two of you to have longer rounds, he doesn’t like rushing his time with you. But sometimes emotions are high and he just needs to pull you away and into a bathroom, or he’ll have you against the kitchen counter before practice, needing to let out his emotions. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

You are the most important and precious thing in his life, so he would definitely be careful about the types of risks he would take with you. He’s always willing to try something new if you are down for it, your relationship is built of trust so he’s never scared of trying something new as long as it’s with you. He hates the idea of the two of you being caught, but he does enjoy being sneaky in public as long as he knows that there isn’t a high chance of being caught. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Amazing, he knows how to pace himself, he’s a top-tier professional athlete. There is nothing he would rather do than spend time with you and make you feel good, so he will drag it out as long as he can, he doesn’t like to rush unless he has to. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't have any of his own, besides the handcuffs, and blindfolds that he uses with you. He doesn't mind at all if you have any, honestly, he kind of prefers if you do, knowing that you will be able to take care of yourself while he’s away. He loves using your toys with you, holding your vibrator against your clit for you, or controlling the pace of your dildo. And he also just loves watching you use them on yourself, you begging for his touch. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to tease you, especially at times when it's not exactly appropriate. He loves to whisper the dirtiest things in your ears, giving you subtle but noticeable touches that leave you a flustered mess, he loves the little glare you give him, your eyes betraying your thoughts. He loves to see you beg. He loves kissing your clit when it's sensitive, chuckling when you whimper and buck your hips weakly against his face, teasing you about how sensitive you are. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Quinn’s lips are going to be busy saying the filthiest dirty talk or complimenting you, letting out deep groans or moans in your ear, praising you. The closer he gets the louder he’ll be, desperate and breathy moans leaving his lips followed with low groans and whimpers. He’s not afraid of being loud, he wants you to know how good you are making him feel. He knows the effect his words have on you and will use it against you, his words and moans lulling you over the edge. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Quinn is obsessed with cockwarming; he loves how connected he feels to you. Lazy mornings where both of you are just too tired to move, Quinn spooning you from behind as he holds you close as he’s deep inside you. When he’s busy watching hockey, you will just straddle his lap, your fingers quickly pulling him out before sliding down on him, he won’t even question you. you head on his shoulder and your eyes flutter close as you relax against him. Sooner or later one of you will get impatient and start to slowly move, waiting to see the other’s reaction. Groans leaving his lips at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him. He just wants to be close to you, it happens several times a week. He loves it when you get extra needy, he’ll hold your hips tighter to stop you from moving, smirking lazily when you start to whine about needing more. He’ll tell you to wait “after this period” or “let me finish this email” but he’ll find a way to drag it on even more, just to drive you crazy… 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s pretty high, Quinn is always yearning for you in some way, he’s ready to jump on you any time of the day. But he has amazing self-control, understanding that you might not be able to keep up with him. He’s yearning for you sexually and not sexually, he just doesn't feel complete if you're not by his side or in his arms. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Quinn won't fall asleep until he knows you have everything you need and you're ready to go to bed. Some nights if neither of you aren't too tired he’ll just hold you close, the two of you talking about each other's day or the most random topics, until one of you drifts off to sleep; the other follows after. Lots of soft touches, kisses, and sweet whispers are shared before bed. But, most nights it's you who falls asleep first and then it's Quinn, who’s lulled to sleep by the sound of your heartbeat and soft breaths.

𝓻oro's note. 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗆𝗒 𝗄𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖠𝖭𝖸 𝖣𝖠𝖸 !! 😛 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾, 𝗈𝗁 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 (𝗍���𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋) 𝖨 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒𝗒𝗒 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌, 𝖨’𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄…𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗅𝗒 🔪

m.list

˖ ་ taglist : @cixrosie @lovings4turn @lesrflms @toasttt11 @winterbarnesblog @littlesoulshine

©️️WINTFLEUR ; you can't copy, translate, reproduce, repost my fic, use my plot or layout.

[bewaryofpity]

can you do smut 9 with Quinn Hughes please? ^_−☆

thank you for requesting ! 🫶🏻

9. “This is a one time thing.”

.

In all fairness, you were the one who was making fuck me eyes at him all night behind your brother’s back, you surely weren’t expecting him to not reciprocate, right? So it wasn’t surprising when you gladly let Quinn lead you to the bathroom while everyone was distracted talking and drinking with each other at your brother’s birthday party.

You sat in front of him on your knees, rubbing at the tent in his pants and smiling as he took in a sharp breath at your teasing. You unbuckled his belt and slowly pulled down his pants and boxers just enough to free his cock, tip already leaking at the thought of what you were about to do.

“Such a needy girl,” he whispered, his hand wrapping around his length and dragging it over your lips before you opened your mouth, letting your tongue out. “Are you gonna be good f’me?”

You nodded eagerly, hands running up and down his thighs in anticipation as Quinn tapped his tip on your tongue, letting some of the pre cum fall on it. He moved his hand to get some strands of hair out of your face and you wrapped your own around his cock, planting a soft kiss to his head.

You wrapped your warm lips around him, bobbing your head slowly to feel every ridges and veins. Pulling off, your hand reached for his cock, stroking it lightly, dragging out soft raspy moans out of his mouth. And needy as he was, he rut his hips forward, already missing your mouth.

“Fuck,” he groaned a bit too loudly when you ran your tongue along that vein underneath his shaft, taking him fully in your mouth again. He looked down, watching as his cock disappeared between your lips inch by inch just as you looked up at him, seeing his eyes hazy and focused on you as his curls fell over his face. Your mouth was taking him whole, your hands moving up to feel the twitches of his stomach as you took his cock deep into your mouth, clenching your throat around the sensitive head, making his hips jerk softly which only made you gag in return before moaning around his length.

"Shit," He sighed, placing his hand on top of your head. “Keep doin�� that, I'm close.”

You closed your lips tightly around him before sliding back up with a pop, a string of saliva connecting from your bottom lip to the tip of his cock, and you smiled. He twitched in your hand when he saw that look on your face, your tongue lolling out of your mouth to lick up his flushed tip, lips covered in spit and pre cum, pretty hand jerking his dick for him. Your eyes were full of lust, looking up at him like he was the forbidden fruit you could never get a taste of. And he completely melted before you with just that.

“You— shit,” he whined, hips jerking up into your hand. “You look so pretty like this.”

“Yeah?” You giggled, but you left him no time to talk as your mouth was back on him, taking him over your tongue slowly and fitting him down your throat until your nose hit his stomach. Your eyes closed as you gagged slightly around him, throat constricting before you pulled off him again, his dick now completely coated in your spit.

Your tongue was back on the underside of his tip, lips sucking around it while your hand jerked around his base. The sight, the sound, the feeling of you on your knees in front of him was all too much for him, it sent him over the edge, cumming on your tongue, hot and thick ropes of cum falling down your throat.

Quinn’s vision went blurry as you kept your hand moving around him, drawing every last drop out of him on your tongue.

“F-fuck, baby.” He whined, biting on his lip to stay quiet. He pulled you off him, cock too sensitive to think straight, and helped you on your feet again.

This was so wrong, getting sucked off by his teammate’s sister, but he couldn’t care less when you darted your tongue out to clean up a loose drop of cum at the corner of your lips, smirking as he groaned.

“This is a one time thing,” he said between breaths.

“Sure, yeah.” You sneered, knowing damn well you got him wrapped around your finger now. You slowly leaned in to place a kiss on his lips, gasping as he wrapped his hand at the back of your neck to bring you closer. But not every good moment lasted long.

“Y/N, you there?” Brock’s voice came through the door after knocking.

“Yeah?”

“Have you seen Quinn? I don’t think he left already.”

“Nope, haven’t seen him in a while.” You smirked before resuming your kiss, feeling Quinn’s dick getting hard again.

“Think we can get a quickie in before he starts to notice?”

[lilhughesy]

Excuse me, you look like you love me | Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

warnings! mentions of sex (brief! not full smut, just a hint towards it. don't read if it makes you uncomfortable!), angst, panic attacks, cheating (?), fighting/pushing, nicknames (princess, pretty, blue, bluesy, bluey, etc. mentioned!)

word count: 25.7k (oops!)

summary: Y/N is Trevor Zegras' best friend, and he is more than excited to introduce her to his friends Jack and Cole during a house party in the summer before senior year of high school. The four quickly become close, eventually Y/N bonding to Jack the most. After a summer at the Hughes lake house, Jack and Y/N start developing feelings for each other. In attempts to avoid ruining friendships, they try to ignore their feelings but does it hurt the other person when one starts to pull away?

a/n: Hi everyone! I went a little (a lot) overboard with this one, I'm sorry it's so long! I will mention that not everything in this is accurate, I am aware! Thank you for all the positive feedback for my previous fic, and I hope you enjoy this one too!

(not edited!)

-----

Jack remembers the exact moment when he laid eyes on her and knew that she was meant to be his. It was during a house party when he and his best friend, Trevor Zegras, were 17 in the summer. Trevor insisted that Jack and Cole came with him to yet another party since Trevor wanted them to meet a few of his friends from high school.

Of course, neither one of the boys were the types to say “no” to a night of drinking and fun — the three always ended up being the lives of the party. Jack walked through the glass front door with Cole next to him, immediately darting towards the makeshift bar in the kitchen.

The music was blasting off the multiple connected speakers and the LED lights were shining purple. Bodies of teenagers were scattered throughout the main level of the house and the large backyard.

“Hey! You boys made it!” Trevor exclaimed, approaching his friends and giving a firm slap on the back, “Shane said to help yourselves to any drink you want. Beers in the fridge, there’s also a keg outside and a cooler jam packed with drinks.”

“This is a crazy party,” Cole chuckled while handing Jack a Budweiser can, “You know everyone here, Z?”

Trevor only shrugged, “Yeah kinda, bunch of mutuals, y’know? Come on, let’s out outside! I want you to meet a few of my buddies.”

Jack’s eyes scanned the scene outdoors, the fairy lights strung up across the top of the fences and the crowd gathered around the keg. Trevor led the two towards a group mixed of guys and girls that were sitting around the nonexistent fire pit.

“Boys! This is Jack Hughes and Cole Caufield, I told you guys about ‘em” Trevor said to the group, “That’s Shane, he’s the lad hosting this thing. Over there in the green hoodie is Dyl, Kayden, and Stevie. The ladies are Maddy, Linds, and Y/N!”

The group of teens all smiled at the two hockey players, each giving their hellos to them as they were introduced. Jack’s eyes were immediately drawn to Y/N, who seemed more shy in comparison to the other girls. But Jack swore he’s never seen a girl as pretty as her. The way that the golden sun rays hit her hair, the pretty lip gloss she wore, and the way she made it look so effortless. He offered her a small smile, in which she immediately returned — she secretly hoped that he wouldn’t notice the rosiness of her cheeks.

Jack, Trevor, and Cole all sat down to join Trevor’s friends, fitting right into the conversation that was going prior. The group of ten laughing, cracking jokes, and overall enjoying the flow of summer break.

As the night went on, the group started the scatter to socialize with their other friends that came to the party. The three hockey players mostly stayed together although on a few occasions where one would deviate to spark a conversation with a girl.

Jack found himself sitting on the steps of the back patio, sipping away at his beer whilst leaning his elbows on his knees and enjoying people watching. Cole drifted away from him to chat it up with a cute blonde a few feet away, Trevor catching up with his boys since coming back from hockey camp. Jack didn’t mind, it was nice to be a regular teenager and to enjoy parties like this without the stress of morning practice.

His eyes often looking around at the different teens that were dancing or talking or singing, but his line of vision would constantly shift towards Y/N. She stood a ways away from the main crowd with her friend… “What’s her name again?” Jack thought to himself, “Madelyn? Madison? Maddy? Something like that.”

She would often glance up and make a brief second of eye contact with the blue eyed boy before he would instantly look away. Her heart warmed at the idea that he didn’t want her to catch him staring, “He’s really cute.” She smiled to herself at the, what felt like, fifteenth time of the two catching eyes.

Every time, she would feel the blush rise up on her face and her attention shifting away from the conversation that she was holding with Maddy.

“Girl, did you even hear what I just said?” Maddy asked jokingly after snapping her fingers in Y/N’s face. She blinked out of her train of thought, looking back to Maddy,

“Y- Yeah, of course I did!” She stuttered, covering her embarrassment. Maddy playfully rolled her eyes,

“Did you really or are you too busy playing eye-tag with Jack?” Maddy teased, “He’s really fucking cute, you should go talk to him!”

Y/N shook her head in response, “No way, I couldn’t.”

“Why not? He keeps looking at you when you’re talking to me. Like, he’s seriously staring!” Maddy giggled as Y/N lightly shoved her shoulder, “He looks like he’s in love with you!”

“What would I even say? I never approach guys,” She sighed, glancing over to where Jack was seated. Only for her to lock eyes with his yet again.

Her friend smiled at her, knowing that Y/N wasn’t ever the type to approach a guy she thought was cute.

“Just walk your gorgeous ass over there and say ‘excuse me, you look like you love me’!” Maddy told her, “If you want to be bold of course but you can play it off as a joke. If not, then maybe something about his staring problem?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “I don’t want to start a conversation like that. It sounds like I’m full of myself or something.”

“Just go over there! If shit goes downhill, at least you’ll never see him again,” Maddy reasoned, “He doesn’t go to our school or anything. Just shoot your shot! If you don’t, I know you’re going to regret it for the next month straight.”

She could only sigh, fully aware that Maddy had good points regarding the fact that she would never have to face him again if it didn’t go her way. Also, the idea of her regretting not speaking to Jack, who in her mind was the prettiest boy she’s ever seen, would likely haunt her forever.

Y/N looked over to Jack as he tossed his empty can perfectly into the nearby trash bin. Her stomach doing multiple flips at the sight of him adjusting his hat to sit backwards on his head, “Wow, could he be any more perfect?”

Maddy squeezed her hand, “You got this! I believe in you!”

Y/N nodded at her friend, absorbing the positive vibes that Maddy was giving her. With that she threw out her empty Twisted and went over to the outdoors cooler. She grabbed herself a bottle of Smirnoff Ice and another beer for Jack.

She stood next to the cooler after closing it, giving her a moment to collect her thoughts with a deep breath. “I can do this.” She thought to herself, and began walking towards Jack. Maybe the sudden surge of confidence was from the few drinks she had or her best friend’s words, she couldn’t quite grasp which one it was.

Y/N sat down next to him, a foot or two in between them, “Excuse me, you look like you love me.”

His head darted up and he looked over to her, a surprised yet amused expression painted across his face, “Wh- What?”

She laughed, shaking her head in disbelief that she actually used the line Maddy gave her, “I’m kidding, but your hands look empty.” She told him and offered him another beer.

Jack chuckled, trying to wrap his head around the fact that this cute girl was now next to him. He gratefully accepted the drink, “Thanks, Y/N - I appreciate it.”

“You enjoying the party?” Y/N asked him, a small strand of hair falling in her face, “There’s so many people, I would be stressed if I was in your position. So many strangers and all.”

“Yeah, this is great,” He smiled, “It’s pretty cool to see a bit of Trev’s life outside of hockey.”

It was only getting louder outside with more people moving to the backyard since the fire pit was starting. Y/N moved slightly closer towards Jack to avoid being stepped on by the individuals that stumbled past her. On occasion, nearly toppling over the girl.

“He just eats, sleeps, and breathes hockey I swear,” Y/N said to Jack, “Even at school, all he thinks and talks about is hockey.”

Jack had to inch closer to her to hear her voice properly, “Do you maybe want to move somewhere quieter? You know, to avoid you getting stomped on?”

She laughed and Jack swore it was the best thing that he’s ever heard, it was magical and magnetic.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

He rose to his feet and offered her a hand, which she gladly took. Jack led her back into the house, hand in hand, which the indoors still remained relatively noisy. He leaned down towards her ear, “I don’t know my way around this place, you know any place we can go where we don’t have to shout?”

Y/N nodded with a soft smile shining on her face, “Yeah, but does it matter to you if we leave the party?”

“Doesn’t matter to me, just gotta swing back so Cole and I can leave together.”

“Come with me!”

She and Jack weaved through the teenagers and towards the front door. Y/N guided him towards the sidewalk where it was finally more quiet, “There’s a park about a block away we can go to.”

“Yeah, sounds perfect.”

They sat on the swings, both barely swinging back and forth as they engaged in a conversation.

“So how did you and Trevor meet? He’s so loud and extroverted, and you seem more like the quiet type.” Jack asked her, watching her kick her feet back and forth against the sand, “No offence, of course.”

“None taken. We met when we were younger because he hit me in the head with a soccer ball during P.E. and I don’t know, we just stuck together after that.” She chuckled at the memory, “He typically does the talking for me, I’m more of the observing friend.”

“Sounds like something he would do, that lil fucker.” Jack joked, “Hm, tell me something that no one else knows, pretty girl.”

“Pretty girl?” Her eyebrows raised slightly in pique of curiosity, “Alright, let me think,” Y/N started in attempts to ignore the flush climbing up her neck and ears at the nickname that Jack had given her.

“I think that I’m absolutely terrified of growing up… Like, don’t get me wrong, I am so excited for college and moving out and exploring everything life has to offer but I can’t help but feel so scared too.” She sighs, melting a bit into the seat of the swing and her hands slowly grazing up and down the cold of the metal chains, “The fact that I’m closer to being twenty and having to be an adult with all the responsibilities than being a kid again is so, so scary… I like the parties and stuff,” Y/N continues while lazily waving her hands in the direction of the house party that they ditched,

“But sometimes I wish I could go back to being like eleven years old and my only worries are making sure I’m back home before sun down when I played soccer with my friends.” She added, giving Jack a sheepish smile, “I guess it’s the fear of the unknown and having to face it alone, you know?”

Jack stares in awe at the girl; for someone he assumed was shy and quiet, he was surprised how deep she went into detail. He anticipated a response amongst something along the line of having to act sober in front of parents or shoplifting an item. Though he was surprised, he felt even closer to the girl than ever before.

“Wow, I was expecting something stupid like accidentally greeting a stranger you thought was your friend or something. But, I know exactly what you mean,” He replied, reaching over to Y/N to give her shoulder reassuring squeeze, “I hate to bring up hockey, but the idea of getting drafted and playing for the NHL is something I’ve always dreamed about. But I agree, sometimes I miss just being able to play with my brothers on the ice or streets without a care in the world. No pressure from anyone, just having fun and being a kid.”

Her face softened as he spoke, “Who would’ve thought that the hotshot hockey player could also miss being a kid,” She lightly giggled, “But for something stupid that I’ve never told anyone, I once had a hickey on my neck and I couldn’t get rid of it. So I told everyone for a week straight that I burned myself with a hair curler… even though I wore my hair natural the entire time. Though, now I think of it, I don’t think anyone believed me.”

Jack let out a loud laugh, his eyes having small creases at the edges. It warmed her entire body as he held eye contact the entire time they were together,

“You little rebel.”

“What can I say?” She giggled with a shrug, “We should probably head back, it’s sort of getting late.”

A small frown tugged at his lips, “Yeah, I guess so. Don’t want to keep Cole waiting, he’s one of the most inpatient guys I’ve ever met.”

The two slowly started walking towards the house, their shoulders lightly bumping against one another. Each time they did, they would look at each other with amusement evident in their eyes. The cool summer breeze brushed against them, making Y/N shiver with only wearing a tank top and shorts.

“Are you cold?” He questioned, slowly peeling off his Team USA hoodie that he wore the entire evening — leaving him in a plain black t-shirt and athletic shorts, “Here, wear this.”

Y/N glanced at him and his sweater, waiting to see if he was going to retract the item of clothing. He seemed insistent, eventually placing it in her hands,

“Are you sure?” Y/N looked up at his face, “It’s a special hoodie, I don’t want to take it from you.”

“I don’t mind, besides I have plenty of others at home.” He grinned, “If you’re that concerned, you can give it back when we get inside but seriously just put it on, you’re shivering.”

With that, Y/N slid on the navy Team USA hoodie, sighing in relief at the warmth from Jack wearing it the whole time alongside the softness of the material and the mixture between laundry detergent and his cologne. She adjusted it on her before looking back at him and raising her arms slightly, “How do I look?”

“You look… absolutely perfect.” He breathed out, his ears and apples of his cheeks turning a light shade of pink, “It looks so much better on you.”

Jack took a mental photo of the sight of Y/N, who stood shorter than him, wearing his hoodie. It was oversized on her, the ends of the sleeves running over the length of her hands. He knew that she was pretty, but in that moment, he didn’t think that she could be any more beautiful. The dim light from the lamppost shining over her, shining her features and the fact that she was wearing his hoodie. His last name on the back with his jersey number. Jack’s entire life revolved around hockey, all he thought about was hockey but in this exact situation where he stood in front of her — holding her precious eye contact. He thought, maybe there is a future that isn’t just hockey. Maybe the future that waits for him wouldn’t be as intimidating if he had Y/N at his side. Maybe this was what he was made for, to be here with this amazing girl, giving him the cutest and sweetest smile.

“Jack?” She repeated, causing him to snap out of his trance, “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m good!” He sputtered, trying to push the flood of thoughts out of his head, “Come on, pretty girl.”

Jack offered her his hand which she shyly accepted, their fingers intertwined. He briefly looked at their hands, and how they fit perfectly in one another, “Nothing has ever felt this right before” He thought to himself before giving her a gentle squeeze which she returned back.

When they returned to the backyard of the party, they saw everyone standing or dancing near the fire. Trevor and Cole were actively animating a story out loud, over-exaggerating their actions — causing those listening to laugh in response. They were the lives of the party.

Jack and Y/N stood side by side, his arm loosely over her shoulders and they watched the two boys reenact the amusing memory. Jack on occasion chiming in with a comment or two to egg on his friends and their ridiculous but entertaining banter.

The party started to die down slowly, people filtering out with their friends and finding their rides home. Jack stood by Cole and Trevor whilst Y/N was assisting Shane and Lindsay by picking up the leftover trash that was scattered around the yard.

“So, Y/N eh Rowdy?” Cole teased, wiggling his eyebrows at the brunette, “I see her wearing your hoodie.”

Jack rolled his eyes and chuckled, “Yeah, she’s pretty cool.”

“She’s pretty awesome, I’ve known her for years,” Trevor told him, “One of my oldest friends I would say. Bluey’s always been there for me and had my back, she’s quiet but so unbelievably loyal and way too nice for her own good.”

“Bluey?” Jack asked, with a raised look.

“Yeah, we all call her that because she always is wearing something blue and Linds says she only ever wears some sort of blue nail polish.” Trevor explained to his friends, “Just don’t hurt her, Hughes, if you’re planning on doing anything with her. I love you brother, but she’s a day one.”

“All your friends are great, Z,” Cole added, tapping his can against Trevor’s, “It would be great to hang around them more often.”

“Yeah, love ‘em all. Some of them like Dyl and Kayden, I’ve had a rocky history with but we all go to school together, so not much I can do about that.” Trevor shrugged, “There’s a few that I’m ready to leave behind once we graduate.”

“What time should we head out?” Jack questioned, while typing into his phone, “I can get Q to come get us.”

“I’m cool with whenever, Rowdy.” Cole said back to him, “Z, are you coming with?”

“Yeah, yeah I will. I just told Bluey that I would drop her home.”

“We can drop her off when Q gets here.” Jack told Trevor, “He won’t mind, don’t worry.”

“Yo, Blues!” Trevor shouted over to the girl, she looked up at the direction of her nickname and straightened her stance, “Yeah, Trev?”

He waved her over which she quickly tied up the filled trash bag and jogged over to her friend,

“What’s up?” She asked as she wiped the palms of her hands against her denim shorts.

“His brother is coming to get us and he can drop you at home if you’d like.” Trevor replied, motioning over to Jack, who glanced up from the illuminated screen of his phone.

“Are you sure?” Y/N said to Jack, “I hate to be out of the way.”

“It’s not an issue, don’t sweat it,” Jack reassured her, “My older brother, Quinn, already said it’s fine.” He added while showing her his text conversation between himself and his brother.

“Okay, thank you. I appreciate it a ton.” She grinned.

Quinn’s car eventually pulled up on the driveway, Y/N giving Shane a quick side hug as a goodbye. Trevor called shot gun as they approached the vehicle, cackling as he climbed into the seat and greeting the eldest Hughes brother,

“Q, this is Y/N! She’s a friend of mine.” Trevor quickly introduced him to her as she squeezed into the middle seat between Jack and Cole.

“Hey, Y/N! I’m Quinn, Jack’s older brother.” Quinn smiled back at the girl, who gave him a shy wave,

“Nice to meet you! Thank you for the drive, I really appreciate it.”

“What if Bluey comes to our place?” Cole asked, looking over to Jack, “If Ms. Ellen doesn’t mind of course.” As Cole and the rest of the Hughes family were renting a home for the week following their training camp, to allow the boys to hang out together outside of just practice.

“Mom would be fine with it,” Quinn chimed in, “If anything, she’d be grateful that there’s another girl in the house.”

The rest of the living resulted in the three boys and Y/N whispering and letting out quiet giggles while lounging in the living room after Quinn bid them goodnight. The group of four bonded together, the boys’ group of three now expanding to be a group of four. Trevor and her passed out on one couch together while Jack took the other, leaving Cole knocked out on the carpet.

Y/N was included more with group hang outs and activities — due to not only Jack and Cole appreciating her presence but also because of Trevor wanting to slowly pull away from their high school friends. Which he had deemed to be more toxic than he anticipated and was getting tired of dealing with unnecessary bullshit. Since him and Y/N were friends first and the two being significantly closer with each other in comparison to their other friends, he decided to pull her more towards his hockey friends.

Trevor watched his best friend open up more and more around Cole and Jack over the following months, which he was beyond thrilled about. His favourite people growing closer together, why would he ever complain. For their last spring break of high school, the Hughes family was kind enough to invite the three over to spend their time off together. He laughed from the opposite side of the kitchen counter as Cole chased Y/N with a spoonful of wet pancake mix. While she was screaming for Trevor’s help,

“Cole! Get away from me!” She squealed, tucking herself into Trevor to avoid the boy.

“Oh c’mon, Blues! I thought you loved me!” Cole pouted, jokingly, trying to pull her away from Trevor, “Don’t run away!”

“Actually, Bluesy, maybe you should try a new hair colour?” Trevor smiled sweetly, petting the top of her hair and twirling a strand of it around his finger, “I honestly think this colour that Cole is so graciously chosen would be absolutely stunning on you!”

“Trevor!” Y/N cried out as she ducked from Cole and running straight into a solid wall. She collapsed on impact, letting out an audible ‘oof!’ when she landed. She looked up to see Jack, who was seriously trying to hold in his laughter, standing over her.

“Falling for me already?” He smirked, “I thought you would have at least made it a bit more secretive, pretty. Hey Cole, I think our girl here needs a helping hand, don’t you think?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at his comment before scrambling when she saw Cole approaching her. A mischievous glint in his eyes as he proudly held up the weapon, “Sorry, Prince Charming isn’t saving you from your fate!”

“Yeah, definitely not…” She sighed, “But Luke will!” Y/N beamed as the youngest Hughes walked into the kitchen, clearly confused at the commotion.

“What?” He said, lowering his phone while Y/N hid behind him.

“Lukey, they’re all plotting against me!” She told him, pointing at the three boys, “Please!”

He laughed at the way Trevor, Cole, and Jack all stood in the kitchen. Luke looked down to see the terror in her eyes. Even though he loved some chaos, he also didn’t want Y/N to hate him for sabotaging her. So, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to his room.

The two giggling like crazy as they ran to the safety of his room. Luke immediately shutting the door and twisting the lock, “I think you’re safe now.”

“My saviour!” She exclaimed, “You have no idea what they were putting me through. Trevor and Jack both sold me to Cole! I thought they would’ve had my back.” Y/N joked as she made herself comfortable in Luke’s bedroom. It wasn’t the first time she was in his room, the two of them often hanging out when the other boys got too rowdy and loud. Often watching TV shows together or scrolling through TikTok while quiet country music played in the background.

“Yeah, can’t ever trust those three” He teased, “I’m glad to be your saviour then.”

Luke flopped onto his unmade bed, reaching over to his nightstand to retrieve the remote, “Wanna continue The Office?”

She grinned, “What kind of question is that?”

He was quick to pull up their current show while the two made themselves comfortable on his bed. Their upper backs against the cushioned headboard. They watched in a comfortable silence as they typically did, before being interrupted by loud knocking against the door.

“Oi Rusty! Open up! Promise we’re done with the whole batter thing,” They could hear Trevor shout from the other side, the handle of the door shaking as he tried opening the locked door, “Hey! Why is this shit locked? I swear to god, Lukey! Your pants better be on and you better not be hooking up with Blues, she’s off limits! You know that!”

Luke’s entire face and ears turned a brilliant shade of red as Y/N laughed at Trevor’s panicked voice. She swiftly got off the bed and went to unlock the door, causing Trevor to nearly fall over the second the door swung open.

“I swear to God! Oh-” He looked at Y/N, who stood with her arms crossed, “You are fully clothed.”

“Nice observation, Trev. Can I help you?” She asked with a brow raised, “Or can Luke and I go back to watching our show in peace?”

“Oh, man! I seriously thought that you two were fucking for a minute!” Trevor cackled, “Ouch Blues, the hell?” He winced as she smacked the back of his head.

“That’s for having your stupid head in the gutter, you freak.”

“Hey! The door was locked and y’all were weirdly quiet okay? Not my fault!” He defended, raising his hands up in surrender, “Pancakes are ready by the way.”

“Oh shit, foods ready?” Luke asked, standing up from his bed, “Yeah okay we’re coming.”

The three slowly made their way towards the kitchen where Jack and Cole sat eating their stacks of pancakes and eggs. Both looking up as they entered the room.

“Doors locked ‘n everything to watch TV is crazy work” Trevor scolded, “Why was the door locked?”

“Since when did you become my mother?” Y/N was quick to respond to her best friend, “Plus, you guys were the one threatening to put pancake batter in my hair. It was for defence.”

“His room was locked?” Jack asked, his eyebrows furrowed slightly at their conversation. His expression was unreadable as Y/N turned to look at him.

“Whose room was locked?” Another voice chimed in, Quinn’s, as he walked up behind the three.

“We were literally just watching the Office.” Luke explained, putting food onto his plate, “You guys are making this a bigger deal than it is.”

“Why was it locked though?” Cole added, “And at ten in the morning is crazy! Lukey’s gone crazy!”

“Guys” Luke whined, “Come on!”

“With his brother’s best friend too?” Quinn teased as Luke and Y/N both shot him warning looks, “We’re just joking, we don’t care that much. Don’t stress, Rusty — Guys, leave them alone.”

Quinn, always the mediator in these situations. Y/N gave him a small smile as a silent ‘thank you’ before going to get her plate for breakfast.

“I care!” Trevor commented to Quinn’s words, “I legit told you boys that Bluey is off limits.”

Everyone seemed to dismiss Trevor as they were all focused on eating, thankfully. Y/N sat in between Trevor and Jack at the table, the rest of the boys falling quickly into an easy conversation about hockey and the results of last night’s games.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about?” Jack perked, catching the attention of everyone at the table. Like always, Jack had something magnetizing about him. Whenever he entered or room or spoke, people were always drawn to him.

It’s hard to not be drawn in by Jack, his charismatic personality, sparkling blue eyes, addicting sounds of his laughter, and his picture perfect smile. He could easily win hearts with just a flash of his grin.

“What?” Cole replied, a mouthful of food whilst looking at his friend.

“I think you three should come up to the lake house this summer,” He stated, glancing at the three guests at the Hughes household, “You guys get along with everyone in the family and I think it’ll be one hell of a time.”

“That’s actually not a terrible idea,” Quinn said as he placed his fork down and shows a look of thoughtfulness, “They’re practically always here and it could make the summer really fun.”

Luke nodded as his eldest brother spoke, “Yeah, and we definitely have the space too at the house.”

“Hey, I ain’t ever the one to turn down a trip.” Trevor laughed, “Plus more time to spend with Huggy and Rusty? Can’t complain!”

“I mean, I’m down if you guys are down,” Cole added, lifting his hands up as if he was saying ‘this was your idea, not mine’.

“What do you think, Bluesy?” Quinn asked as he turned his head slightly to look at the girl,

“If your parents are okay with it, then I don’t mind.” She said with a smile, “I just don’t want us to be a burden for your family or disrupt any family time.”

Ellen and Jim were more than happy to have Cole, Trevor, and Y/N stay with them at the lake house for the summer. Claiming that it would be nice for them to spend time together before the boys were to be drafted to the NHL — and spending quality time together may become significantly more limited. Including the fact that Y/N committed to UMich for her bachelors. Although the boys could get loud and competitive, they raised three boys themselves and found it rather normal to hear constant banter. All the kids got along very well and were very much capable of keeping each other company.

LAKE HOUSEEE

Huggy 🧸

11:23AM | When are you guys coming?

Rustyy

11:25AM | Plz we been waiting alllllll day

Blues 🫐

11:25AM | we’re otw 🕺🕺

Rustyy

11:26AM | YESSS FINALLY

Coleee

11:28AM | ETA says 15 mins

Z 🔥

11:29AM | Yessuh

Huggy 🧸

11:31AM | Who’s driving

Coleee

11:32AM | Z

Blues 🫐

11:32AM | Trev

Rowdy 🤠

11:35AM | Lord tell him to stop texting and driving

11:35AM | That’s illegal

Z 🔥

11:36AM | 👍

Coleee

11:40AM | We karaoke 🎤

11:40AM | Romeo take me somewhere we can be alone

11:41 AM | I’ll be waitinggg all you have to do is run

Blues 🫐

11:41AM | u be the prince and i’ll be the princess

Z 🔥

11:41AM | ITS A LOVE STORY BABY JUS SAY YESSSSSS

Rowdy 🤠

11:42AM | What did I just say🤦‍♂️

Huggy 🧸

11:42AM | You’re all gonna die before getting here

Rustyy

11:44AM | Man wish I could join in😔

Trevor and Cole were basically bouncing out of their seats the second they parked their car on the Hughes’ lake house driveway. Y/N jumped out of the car, taking down her messy bun which she wore the entire drive up. The two guys opened the trunk to unload their suitcases as Luke and Quinn came out the front door.

“Hey!” Quinn shouted, “You guys made it.”

The two brothers jogged towards the car, “Finally!” Luke exclaimed, pulling Y/N into a tight embrace, “How was the drive?”

“It was good, lots of karaoke.” She laughed, returning the hug.

“Except for when she got car sick from reading her kindle.” Cole commented, shaking his head lowly.

Quinn’s lip tugged into a small frown, “That sucks, I’m sorry to hear. Are you feeling better?”

Y/N nodded. Luke went over to Trevor to dap him up and give a one armed hug while Quinn got his turn to hug the girl,

“Here, let me take this.” Quinn told her while pulling her backpack off her shoulder and taking her two suitcases.

“I’m so lucky she didn’t yack in my car dude, she’s done it before when we were like fifteen.” Trevor grimaced at the memory. She shot him a look,

“Oh come on,” She groaned, “I thought you said you would let that go.”

“Let’s get inside, we have lunch ready and put on your swim suits ‘cause we’re hitting the lake right after!” Luke urged, already moving towards the house with a suitcase.

Y/N followed Quinn into the home, taking in the decor and the many windows that brought in the summer sunlight. The walls were decorated with lake-themed signs with cheesey quotes alongside many photos of the Hughes family.

Quinn led her up down one of the hallways on the main floor and used his foot to open the door, “This is the guest room you’ll be staying in.” He explained to her as he dropped off her backpack onto the chair in front of a desk, “You get your own room since you need your own privacy, Trevor and Cole are across the hall. Me, Lukey, and J are upstairs.”

“Thank you,” She offered him a grateful smile.

“Of course.”

He left soon after to let her settle in. She walked around the room to take it all in. There were two large windows that faced the forest that surrounded the home. A queen sized bed with a few decorative pillows and throw blankets. A short hallway with a closet, it led to a private bathroom with a shower, toilet, and a sink along with a large mirror.

Y/N started unpacking her things, hanging up the few sun dresses and hoodies she brought. Placing shorts, t-shirts and swim suits into the dresser alongside her underwear. She left her toiletries and her make up bags on the bathroom counter space.

She put on a baby blue swim set, the top being a triangle bikini and the bottoms being a bit cheeky with ties on the sides. She scanned over her figure in the bathroom mirror, adjusting it to ensure there was no risk of anything slipping out. Y/N quickly touched up her makeup slightly and brushed out the knots in her hair before pulling on an oversized shirt and a pair of denim shorts.

There was a knock on her door, which she answered right away. She opened the door to see Jack standing on the other side with lavender swim trunks, a black t-shirt, and a white backwards baseball cap. His hair was grown out since the last she saw him. He grinned at her,

“Hey pretty,” He said, walking into her room as she pulled the door wider, “Settled in?”

“Yeah, for the most part anyways.” She replied as he turned to face her. The sun shined through the window in her room that made his blue eyes sparkle, her heart beating a bit faster as he looked down at her.

You look heaven sent.

“I missed you,” Jack murmured, his voice significantly softer than before. He took a step closer to her, his hand tucking away a loose strand behind her ear, “You excited for this summer?”

His hand lingered near her face, she prayed that he couldn’t feel the heat radiate off her skin with its close proximity. She could only muster a nod, scared that she would say something that would embarrass her if she were to open her mouth. His hand dropped from the side of her face to graze her upper arm, giving it a little squeeze, “Good, I’m excited too.”

“Yeah?” She asked with her tone just above a whisper.

“Yeah.” He smiled, “Come, lunch is ready and I think Trevor is gonna cause Q to have a heart attack if they’re alone for any longer.”

Y/N giggled as Jack pulled her along with him out the bedroom and towards the kitchen. The other four boys were scattered around the area with Luke sitting on the counter, Cole on one of the bar stools with an open can, Quinn leaning against one of the opposing counters, and Trevor looking inside the fridge.

“Fucking finally!” Cole sighed, throwing his arms up, “Took you long enough, Blues.”

“Yeah, what the fuck were you doing? Unpacking or something?” Trevor joked, cracking open a Twisted while using his elbow to close the fridge.

She rolled her eyes playfully, “Yes, actually. Didn’t you?”

“Nope!” Trevor responded, putting an extra emphasis on the ‘p’.

Luke slid over a plate of food for her, it had a salad, a sandwich, and a handful of fruit, “Lunch for you.”

“Thanks Rusty” She beamed, taking the plate from him and sitting on the barstool next to Cole. He immediately snatched one of the strawberries on her plate and popped it into his mouth.

Jack perched himself up on the kitchen island next to Y/N, scrolling casually on his phone while she ate. Afterwards, they were all quick to run down to the boat, making it a race of who can reach it the fastest. Quinn settled into the drivers seat while Jack and Luke were untying it from the dock.

Trevor took aux and played his country playlist as they drove towards the middle of the lake. The group spent hours on the water, the boys taking turns on the wake board, Y/N enjoying the summer heat while reading her book and listening to the sounds of summer. When Quinn eventually stopped the boat and lowered the anchor so they could swim. Y/N laughed as Trevor shoved Cole into the water, Cole letting out a high pitched scream as he fell. She got up from her seat and peeled off her shirt and threw it towards the front of the boat.

Trevor whistled at her as she shimmied off her shorts, “Looking good, Blue!”

“Oh shut up” She said while putting her sunglasses on top of her kindle.

Quinn, Cole and Luke were already in the water when Trevor flipped off the edge of the boat, smacking his lower back against the surface of the lake. Y/N stood at the top of the boat when she heard from behind her,

“Hold your breath!”

In seconds, she heard Jack’s running feet and felt his muscular arms wrap around her waist as she let out a scream as they contacted the water.

“Jack!” She exclaimed, the second she swam up to the surface, “I was gonna jump in!”

He popped up right next to her, shaking some of the water from his hair. Jack gave her a cheeky grin, “Yeah, but that was more fun.”

“At least he didn’t shove you in!” Cole chirped, swimming towards them, “Blue is definitely your colour, Bluesy”

She could only laugh, feeling immense levels of happiness in the moment. They all swam in the water for a while until their limbs started to get tired. Eventually, they started to return back up onto the boat. Trevor settling down next to Y/N with a loose arm around the back of her seat. She tucked her legs near her chest and laid her head on his shoulder as she typically did and closed her eyes.

“You falling asleep on me?” Trevor questioned in a hushed voice, she hummed, “Alright, sleep well then.”

The rest of the summer looked like this. Quieter mornings with her and Quinn reading out on the porch with a cup of coffee. Everyone on the boat, singing their hearts out to songs and swimming until they got tired. Evenings were bonfires and sharing memories. Their nights either in the basement shooting pool or everyone curled up on the couches and watching a movie together.

It was the perfect routine. Y/N found herself getting even closer with the group of boys she considered her best friends. The lake house feeling like home. She spent her time with Quinn, bonding over their recent reads alongside deeper conversations when they found themselves up late at night in the kitchen. Cole showing her new country songs to add to her playlist and telling her all about the new girl that he had been talking to. Her and Luke being the s’mores connoisseurs and mastering the craft of building the perfect s’more. They also spent the rainy afternoons together, catching up while watching their current TV show together. Her and Trevor were as close as ever, often spending time together in her bathroom as she got ready and he sat on the empty counter space in the smaller room and listening to her while giving her advice — and the other way around, especially when Trevor found out the girl he was seeing before the summer started, was seeing someone new.

Y/N and Jack, though, spent most of their time together. Whether it be making breakfast for the group together and dancing to Zach Bryan or Luke Combs in the kitchen while everyone else was asleep. His hand twirling her around before pulling her into his chest to sway her back and forth to the song. Jack soon took Trevor’s unclaimed seat next to her on the boat, becoming her new pillow when she took her quick nap and basking in the sun. They would be partners for every game, for pool, for pong, for any board game.

At the ungodly hours of the night, when the stars were out, the two would lay on the dock. Y/N pointing out the different constellations to him and explaining the stories behind each. Jack would try to stay focused on the shining stars in the black skies but he would find himself more interested in her as she spoke about them. The way her eyes beamed as she told him different stories, or the way her nose would scrunch for a moment when she realized she made a minor mistake in the tale of the stars. How effortless she made it to be so perfect in those moments.

When it would get too cold, the breeze biting at their skins, they would move indoors and to her room as it was the closest. They would lay on her bed, facing each other and learning more about each other. Stories of their childhoods, or different stories between their friendships with Trevor. Embarrassing moments in their lives, or even their wildest dreams.

At the end of summer, as everyone packed their things into their suitcases. Jack knew Y/N like the back of his hand. He could read her like an open book at all times. Her fingers drumming quietly against the table when she loses focus on the conversation, or how she would crack her knuckles when she started to get nervous. If she found something actually funny, the way she would throw her head backwards as she laughed and covered her mouth. Which comments he would make that would make her cheeks turn into a light shade of pink and her eyes darting away from his to avoid eye contact.

Jack hugged her tightly after he put her luggage into the trunk of Trevor’s car, “Text me whenever you want, okay? I’m never too busy for you.” He whispered into her ear, “Whenever you need me.”

“Same goes to you,” She mumbled back, “Good luck with the combine and with the draft, hotshot.”

They pulled away, her eyes slightly glassy as his hands ran up and down her shoulders, “I’ll see you soon.” He told her, “Promise.”

“Alright, lovebirds!” Trevor announced, clapping his hands together loudly, “We gotta hit the roads!”

Y/N quickly bid her goodbyes to Quinn and Luke, telling them to stay in touch and how she would miss them. She hugged Ellen and Jim, thanking them for letting her stay for the summer and how much she appreciated it.

Cole, Trevor, and Y/N soon got into the car and waved from the windows as they pulled away and drove down the road.

Jack sighed, his shoulders dropping as he watched the car disappear. Quinn placed a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, “It’s alright, we had an amazing summer with them.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know…” He replied, “I just got really close to Y/N this summer and I don’t know when I’ll see her next.”

“She’s Z’s best friend,” Luke added, “You’ll definitely see her soon.”

Jack’s rookie year came and went, he complained about the lows but celebrated with her on the highs. She would tell him about the drama happening in her circle at UMich. Jack being invested with the business of people he never even met. They would often call each other at the end of their days as they unwinded for bed, catching up on the events that took place. Although Jack felt on multiple occasions that he was drowning or was under-performing in his first year in the NHL, it would give him some peace to know that he would be on the phone with her that night. She would listen to all his problems and his frustrations, and she would reassure him on all these occasions that he was deserving of his position, he was doing his best, and that she was proud of him.

The phone calls with Jack were her escape from the stressors of college. It distracted her from overthinking about her grades or the dilemmas within her social life. But she also found herself, growing more and more fond of Jack. The soft spot in her heart for the blue eyed brunette growing bigger each time she picked up the phone. Every Snapchat that he would send her, she would spend a bit longer admiring. The way a tuff of hair fell perfectly in front of his face that made her pulse race. His smile or his eyes in every photo, being the exact same as she remembered from the summer when she would look at him as she rested on his shoulder.

She found herself lying on her bed in her dorm, late at night, reminiscing about their time together at the lake house. The way his hands fit perfectly in hers and he pulled her towards the boat or how he would spin her around in the kitchen as they danced together. It kept her up at night, wondering if he felt the same way.

And he did.

What she didn’t know was the second that she left the lake house that summer, he changed the lockscreen of his phone to a picture that his mom took of the group during one of their movie nights. Though the sounds of it is friendly, when anyone inspects the picture closer, they would see how Y/N was perfectly tucked into Jack’s side in the corner of the couch. He had an arm around her that kept her close, she was snuggled into him while wearing his USA hockey hoodie. Her head on his chest with a bright smile, his favourite smile, painted across her face. Everyone else in the picture is sprawled out and grinning at the camera, but he was staring down at her when the photo was taken. “You look so cute right now.”

He missed having her only a few rooms away or the way her hair would smell as he held her close. He missed the way her laugh would light up the room, making everyone else smile more or join in on the laughter. The way she would use her drink as a makeshift microphone when she would sing her heart out on the boat.

When he spoke about her to a few of his teammates, they managed to drill in the idea of long distance relationships often not working out. They mentioned how lucky they were that their wives, fiancés, and girlfriends were willing to move with them when they came to the Devils. Others mentioning how they had to break up with past girlfriends over the distance since it was difficult for them to stay on the same page considering how demanding it was to be a professional athlete. Jesper asked Jack about if he were to pursue Y/N, if it could possibly affect their friendships with his brothers or with Cole and Trevor. All in which, Jack never really thought too much about.

“She deserves someone who can be there for her. And not across state lines.”

The idea of Y/N transferring schools to be closer to Jack was basically zero to nothing, he knew how much she loved UMich and her friends there. He could never ask of her to leave it behind. On the contrary, he also knows from past conversations he’s had with Y/N, how they both think that their love languages are physical affection. She even mentioning that she couldn’t ever handle long distance relationships often because of the lack of physical presence.

Jack also wanted the ability to see his hypothetical girlfriend whenever he wanted, most importantly at the end of the day so he could hug and cuddle her before they fell asleep. He would want to have her around at all times, to come to his games and to get coffees together in the morning. He wanted all of that, but it wouldn’t be possible when she’s in Michigan and he’s in New Jersey.

In addition to the hundreds of miles between the two, he knew how deeply she appreciated her friendships with Quinn and Luke. She held her friendships with his brothers very close to her heart. She cherished them as much as she cherished her friendship with Jack. Her childhood best friend was Trevor, who also happened to be one of Jack’s best friends. With that, she was also close with Cole — especially after spending a whole summer with him.

Jack thought to himself how messy things could get if he and Y/N were to get involved. Would Trevor allow it? Or would Trevor push them away and how much it would hurt her to see her best friend leave. It would be so much worse if it didn’t work out for him and Y/N. Trevor and Cole would have to pick sides, Luke and Quinn would very likely take Jack’s side since they’re his brothers but would they resent him? Y/N would lose all of them in some way and did Jack want to be the reason for that?

He wasn’t too sure if he wanted to take this risk anymore. As much as his heart longed to be with her, remembering the way she looked when he first laid eyes on her at the house party ages ago. Did he want to put her friendships with everyone important in her life on the line for it? For the sake of himself?

Jack’s mind would spiral over the multiple possibilities and honestly, he didn’t even know if she liked him as much as he did. He dwelled on the idea but eventually deciding on shoving his feelings away and putting a lock on them. He would let her make the moves and decide, almost refusing to allow himself to act on any emotion he had towards her.

They are just friends.

It’ll be easier this way.

Summer quickly came around, and the lake house was back in full swing. Luke used her lap as a pillow as she explained the story that Jack already heard to the rest of the guys on the boat of when her and her friends experienced their first college homecoming weekend. He loved the way her eyes would sparkle and how her hands moved around as she animated the story, almost similar to how Trevor acted when he retold stories to his friends.

“I was so drunk when I woke up, I literally could not tell if I just blinked or if I was wildly hungover!” She laughed, “It was so bad, I was searching the house for water and even our brita was filled with tequila.”

Quinn grimaced at her story, “That must’ve been a brutal cup of water.”

“No, like I chugged it… Thinking it will help sober me up,” Y/N explained, “I passed out drunk on my bathroom floor like ten minutes later!”

Everyone laughed and Trevor shook his head, “Still can’t handle your alcohol?” He teased his best friend.

“As if you can chug a whole glass of tequila and still function afterwards?” She scoffed jokingly, “I don’t even remember that weekend, I only know what happened from the photos and videos my friends and I took.”

She noticed how Jack didn’t look her in the eye the whole day. “Did I do something?” How brief their hug was when she first got there, unlike how she was expecting it to be after not seeing each other for nearly a year. She had envisioned that he would embrace her tightly and express how happy he was that she was there — but she supposed that she may have been too imaginative for that scenario.

Later that night, Y/N was leaning her forearms against the rail of the balcony and admiring the moon light reflecting off the water. Everyone had retreated to their rooms about a half hour ago. She was wide awake, her head too busy running over the different times throughout the day where Jack seemed off. Was she too optimistic that he would behave the same way that he had the summer prior? Maybe she had her hopes too high and expecting him to be as excited to see her as she was to see him.

She heard the door slide open and closed behind her, another presence joining beside her,

“Can’t sleep?”

Y/N looked over to see Quinn standing next to her, also looking out to the lake, “Yeah,” She responded, “Lake is pretty right now too.”

He hummed, “Something on your mind?”

She could only shrug, “Sort of, but I think I’m just overthinking over nothing.”

Quinn looked at her, seeing the way her eyebrows her knit together and how she played with one of the rings she always wore,

“I’m sure it’s not just nothing,” He assured her, “Wanna talk about it?”

“It’s stupid.”

He sighed, “If it’s causing you to lose sleep, then I doubt it’s stupid, right?”

She turned to lean her back against the rail, looking down at her hands, “I guess today just wasn’t what I was expecting it to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I mean, Jack and I basically talked every day all year, I guess I just expected him to be more excited about seeing me,” Y/N explained to the eldest Hughes brother, “He didn’t even look at me.”

Quinn sighed, adjusting his stance to mirror hers and crossed his arms over his chest, “I’m sure he didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I know he cares about you, maybe there’s just something else going on in his life right now.”

She pursed her lips, “Yeah, that’s true.”

“Listen,” He said, giving her a gentle smile, “Jack wouldn’t purposely make people feel uncomfortable especially when it comes to you, Trevor, or Cole. He could be just adjusting back to the slower pace of life after his first year in the NHL, just give him some time and don’t let it bother you.”

Y/N lips twitched upwards, “Okay.”

“Okay.” He repeated, before pulling her into a comforting hug. It was something about Quinn’s big brother persona that brought comfort to Y/N as she explained to him her worries from the day. She was used to sharing them with Jack but with him immediately heading to his room after the fire died down, she didn’t want to bother him.

He could feel the tension diminish from her body when he wrapped his arm around her. Already aware of Jack’s weird behaviour throughout the day, and seeing her face fall for a split second every time she would look over to Jack to see his reaction, only to see him occupied by his phone.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Jack only slightly warmed up towards her. Though he didn’t sit next to her, dance with her, or did any of the same things that they did the summer before. At least he was speaking to her, somewhat. He would chime in on conversations, crack jokes when he felt like it, and on occasion asking her to choose on movie nights. It was better than nothing in her eyes.

Trevor could tell that something was bothering Y/N, so he kept her more company than he typically would and also asked of Cole to do the same. Cole would sit on the empty desk, reading out his text conversation with his current summer fling, while Trevor sat on the edge of the bed listening intently to his friend and Y/N laying on her stomach next to her best friend.

Trevor reclaimed his spot of being Y/N’s partner in games as they always were when they were growing up, leaving Jack and Cole to pair up with little to no argument. He had also fully embraced his former position as her best friend, allowing her to lean on him on boat rides or on the couch as they watched the TV.

The two boys did a great job of keeping her distracted from whatever it was that was on her mind. Trevor fully aware of not needing to ask her since she wasn’t the type to keep her emotions bottled up; when she was ready, she would tell him. Though he often played the more clueless friend role, he grew up with her and knew that it was Jack’s more absent presence that was constantly on her mind. She told Trevor about how often the two would speak to each other and how happy she was that they maintained a close friendship throughout the school year. But with Jack avoiding her, he wouldn’t force her to speak out on it until she was ready.

Luke and Quinn also did their best to fill in for the gap Jack made. Quinn often spending his evenings sitting next to her at the fire and the two sharing their different yet similar experiences with college. He saw her as the little sister he never had and wanted to protect her from being hurt, even if the cause was his own brother. Luke on the other hand, helped with keeping this light and fun. He would dance with her in the kitchen or whenever things would get a bit too quiet, he would pull her away to his room to watch their show. Luke would give her a similar safe space that Jack used to provide in the summer. They would talk a lot about everything yet also absolutely nothing.

Jack watched as she seemed fine with the distance he had created between them. His heart would twist at the sight of Quinn and her sitting together on the porch at night, when he would fill up his water bottle. At the way Trevor and her seemed so comfortable cuddled up on the couch, he would force himself to stare at the screen even though he wasn’t paying attention to the movie playing.

He didn’t like it. Not at all.

Which brought him, a month into summer, standing outside her door with his hand hovering as he contemplated his next move. He sighed and knocked on the door, Jack could hear her soft, “Come in.” from the other side.

He carefully twisted open the door to see the room dimly lit, with the two lamps on and a candle on the desk burning. She was snuggled up under the blankets with her kindle in her hands, “Hi,” He greeted gently, as he closed the door behind him.

“Hey,” She said back, her voice laced with a bit of surprise. She expected maybe Luke, Quinn, or even Trevor to be the one at her door late into the night, but Jack? He was the last person she expected.

“Sorry, it’s late,” He told her as he approached the bed, she adjusted her position to sit up a bit higher, “Can I sit?”

“Yeah, of course,” Y/N motioned to the bed where he sat at the foot of it, “Everything okay?”

Jack’s gaze was on his hands, trying to figure out what he was going to say. The conversation he planned in his head before coming to her room, flying out of his brain, “Uh, yeah… Actually no.”

Her eyebrows furrowed at his words before he continued, “I just- Um, fuck well, I-“ Jack paused, wincing in slight embarrassment over his stumbled words, “I guess what I’m trying to say here is that I’m sorry.”

“…You’re sorry?” She repeated, and he slowly nodded.

“Yeah, I’m sorry.” He confirmed, finally taking a breath and looking at her, “I’ve been a dick towards you since you got here and it’s not fair to you.”

She listened intently, her eyes locked on his.

“I just, I’ve been avoiding you because fuck, I don’t know how to say this.” He groaned, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he looked up at the ceiling.

“Hey it’s okay,” She reassured, “Just take your time.”

“I guess I caught feelings for you last summer and I’ve been trying to get over my feelings towards you, which has been so much harder when you’re here with me than when I’m in Jersey and you’re in school,” Jack said, his hand running through his hair, “If I acted the same way as I did last summer, I wouldn’t be able to get over these feelings and I don’t want to fuck up our friendship or something.”

Y/N held her breath unconsciously as he spoke, trying to nod along and keep up with his words.

“And it’s nothing to do with you, I swear. It’s just we both have too much on the line, you know?” He looked up at her, but her expression was hard to read, “We’re both so busy and like I said, you’re in Michigan while I’m in Jersey for most of the year… I don’t want to hurt you or anything.”

“Y- yeah,” She finally breathed out the air she was holding, “I get that.”

“But, I did hurt you with how I’ve been acting lately,” Jack sighed, “And I’m sorry for that.”

“I just wished you talked to me about it before you did it,” She expressed, twisting the ring on her finger, “But I guess I can understand why you did it.”

“I just think it’s better if we stay friends,” He said, his voice just barely above a whisper, painful to say it out loud than when it was floating in his head, “I think I just need like, space or something like that.”

When Jack looked up from his lap, she could see the small line of tears that brimmed his eyes. Her eyes glassed over at the sight, “Yeah, for now it probably would be best if we do that… But, um,”

He leaned the smallest bit forward, almost impossible to notice if it weren’t for the slight shift of weight on the mattress.

“Maybe after I finish school?” She proposed, her voice also sounding delicate as the question danced on a fine line, “If we still feel this way, maybe we can try then?”

He swallowed hard, the dryness of his throat pushing down the knot that was building throughout the course of their conversation, “Yeah, I would like that… a lot actually.”

They gave each other sad smiles, before she motioned him to come closer. He moved up on the bed to be next to her when she wrapped her arms around her neck, his instinctively going around her waist. Jack buried his face in the crook of her neck, “I’m sorry.”

“Shh, it’s okay.” She whispered into his hair, “I understand.”

“It’s not fair,” He mumbled, placing a feather-like kiss on her temple, “I wish I could be stronger and more willing to do distance.”

Her hand brushed through the hair at the base of his head, “It’s not your fault, and it’s not my fault.” She reassured him, “It’s not fair but we didn’t do each other wrong. It’s just not the right time for us now.”

He reached to intertwine their fingers together, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, “Still friends?”

She gave him a teary smile, “Still friends.”

They say like that for a while, taking in the comfort of the silence and each other’s presence as they both absorbed the truth of their conversation. It was painful to hear but also necessary to avoid hurting the other person more. Y/N felt her heart sink into her chest when he spoke but she was also aware of the importance it was for the two to communicate their emotions. Rather than to continue going on with how they were acting for the first half of their summer.

She knew that Jack knew her well, Jack knew about her feelings towards long distance relationships long before this conversation. She also knew that they both didn’t want to jeopardize the other’s friendships with their friends.

It gave her hope however, to think that they could still have a chance after she finished school, yet that was so far away and so many other possibilities could intercept during this time. They could very much be in different positions by the time she finished college. Different circumstances, different relationships, who knows.

Jack’s head was in a whirlwind of emotions, somewhat relieved to get his feelings off his chest. But with a punch of regret when he saw her glossy eyes as he spoke, made him want to take back everything he said. He didn’t know why this hurt like a break up, even though his past actual break ups didn’t squeeze his heart the same way that this conversation did.

They basked in the silence for a few moments longer before Jack rose from the bed, bidding his goodnight before leaving her room quietly. Once she heard his sock clad feet padding up the stairs, she reached over to her phone to text Trevor.

Blues 🫐

11:47PM | trev r u awake rn?

11:47PM | pls be awake

Z 🔥

11:50PM | Ya I’m up wsp?

Blues 🫐

11:50PM | can u come to my room :(

Z 🔥

11:50PM | But I’m comfy asf in bed rn

Blues 🫐

11:51PM | please?

Z 🔥

11:51PM | Ok

Within seconds, her door creaked open. Trevor rubbing his eyes as he shut the door behind in and walked towards her. He looked up at Y/N while slipping his phone into the pocket of his athletic shorts.

“You good?” He yawned, settling into the empty space next to her. He perched himself on his elbow, resting his head on his hand as he faced his friend.

She rolled onto her side and looked at him, her bottom lip quivered as she bit the inside of it between her teeth. The tiredness from his eyes washed away the second he looked at her. Y/N shook her head slightly as more tears threatened to spill,

“Oh, come here,” Trevor told her, opening his arms up and engulfing her with a hug, “It’s okay, Bluey.”

“Nothing even happened,” She explained between breaths as tears fell from her eyes, “I don’t even know why I’m crying.”

Trevor rocked her slowly, running fingers through her hair to comfort her, “It’s ‘cause you’re still sad and you’re allowed you cry.”

“We agreed to stay friends,” She sniffled, “And he said he’s been trying to get over his feelings.”

“What an asshole,” Trevor said under his breath, “You’re okay, you don’t need him.”

“I’m mad because I don’t know why I’m crying and am so upset over this.” She groaned, pulling away from his chest and flopping onto her back.

“Maybe because you’re a little sensitive,” Trevor mumbled in a lightheartedly manner, “You’ve always been a lil sensitive, nothing’s wrong with that.”

“We weren’t even dating!” She huffed as she turned her head to look at Trevor. He frowned slightly as another tear fell from her eyes,

“You liked him, that’s not your fault,” He said, wiping a tear off her face, “It didn’t work out which is also not your fault. Sometimes things like this just happen, but doesn’t mean that something better isn’t coming your way.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” He smiled, poking her cheek, “You’re my best friend, something amazing is gonna come to you and you’re gonna forget that all of this happened.”

“Can you stay?” She asked in a hushed tone, her eyelids already drooping from exhaustion.

“Of course,” He responded, crawling underneath the comforter, “Anything to avoid Cole’s sleep talking.”

Y/N let out a soft yet sleepy chuckle, “Love you, Trev.”

“Love you too Bluesy,” He mumbled back, “Always here for ya.”

After that night, things resumed as if that night never happened. There was a silent and unspoken shift in the lake house. Thought only Jack, Y/N, and Trevor knew exactly what had happen that one night. Cole, Luke, and Quinn knew that something changed in the air. It could be the fact that Jack and Y/N gave each other some distance but whenever one wasn't pay attention, the other was often looking at them. Or how Jack silently pouted when Y/N sat next to Luke on boat days or when Cole and her would make cookies together in the afternoons.

When the end of summer came around, goodbyes were said. Suitcases were packed. Jack gave Y/N a small hug, "Sorry again for everything," He said into her ear, "I hope school goes well for you and I'm still here if you need me."

"I know." Was all that she told him but the look in her eyes said everything she couldn't manage to vocalize in the moment. He knew. How her eyes said that she was also sorry and didn't blame him for how summer ruled out, how she was wishing him good luck for the upcoming season, and most importantly, how she is also there for him if he ever needs it.

As usual, the Hughes brothers stood at the top of their driveway of the lake house and watched Trevor's truck pull and way and disappear at. the end of the road.

"Some summer, huh?" Luke sighed, breaking the silence between him and his brothers, "You alright, J?"

He slowly nodded, "Yeah, I think I'll be alright."

"Things will work out," Quinn told his middle brother, bumping into his shoulder lightly, "They always do."

When it neared Christmas break that year, Luke invited Y/N over to spend time together and also quietly hoping that Jack and her would fix whatever they were going through.

Rustyy

1:23PM | Hey! Are we still good for tdy?

Blues 🫐

1:30PM | yk it!

1:31PM | just finished my last exam yesterday

Rustyy

1:32PM | Ayy that’s what I like to hear!!

1:32PM | Hope it went well

Blues 🫐

1:33PM | ya i feel pre good abt it:))

Rustyy

1:33PM | I’ll come pick u up in an hour

He drove over to pick her up from her apartment which was a few minutes away from campus. She approached his car as he rolled down the window with a large smile on his face, “Hey you!” She waved at the curly headed boy while settling into her seat.

“Hey, Blue,” He gave her a one armed hug while pulling away from the curb, “How have you been?”

“You know how school is,” Y/N said, “How’s senior year treating you?”

He shrugged, “Eh, it’s alright.”

They drove to a nearby Chiptole to grab food before heading back to the Hughes home which wasn’t terribly far. The two caught up during their drive, well as much as they could considering they often texted each other during the school semester.

Luke rolled into his driveway, tugging his jacket tighter to brace for the Michigan cold. He led her into the familiar home,

“Hi sweetheart!” Ellen greeted her as she watched the two kick off their shoes and shrug off their winter coats.

“How are you?” Y/N gushed, hugging the woman, “You look great!”

Ellen grinned at the girl, kissing her cheek, “Awh, you’re too too sweet! We’ve been good, happy to have all the boys home and ready for Christmas!”

Y/N chuckled, taking in the various holiday decorations scattered throughout the home. Her heart paused momentarily at Ellen’s words of her sons being back, meaning Jack was home.

“Alright, I’ll let you to go. Let me know if you need anything, hun!”

Luke and Y/N walked to his room, where they settled into their typical positions, “Jack’s home?” She asked while he plugged his phone into its charger.

“Yeah,” He hummed, sitting back down next to her, “I didn’t want to scare you off but yeah he’s back. He won’t bother you though.”

“It’s okay, I was just curious.” She muttered, “So what did you plan for us?”

“Well, I was thinking we could either bake or make this gingerbread home that Mom bought. We could also go to the rink if you’d like?”

“So many good options,” Y/N laughed, “Let’s build that gingerbread house first. At least your Mom can use it for decor.”

“Bold of you to assume that we won’t eat most of it while we make it,” Luke teased, standing up from his bed. Y/N following his steps,

“Bold of me to assume that we could keep it standing.” She challenged which made his eyebrows raise,

“Are you implying that you and I can’t build a standing gingerbread house and decorate it?”

She replied with a click of her tongue, “I don’t know, can we?”

He playfully pushed her out of his door, guiding her back down towards the kitchen, “C’mon, we can definitely make it stand.”

They didn’t.

The two current stood with the packaged frosting over their hands as they attempted to keep each piece of the cookie house to stick together. Y/N used the back of her hand to brush away a loose hair fallen from her pony tail,

“How do people do this?” She groaned, pushing the edge of two walls together while Luke applied, yet again, another line of frosting.

“No wait, this looks promising!” He exclaimed, standing back up from his bent stance, “Just hold it like that!”

“That looks terrible,” Quinn laughed from the doorway, leaning away its frame, “You should just stick to puck, Rusty.”

“Oh shut up, Q! I doubt you could do any better,” Luke shot back, giving a slight grin to his brother.

Quinn pushed himself off the door frame and walked towards the pair, “Here, let me help.” He sighed, settled in the spot next to Luke and taking the plastic bag from his hands, “Lukey, hold that right there, yeah perfect.”

Luke huffed but inevitably listened to the eldest Hughes brother as he guided them through the building process. Jack walked down the hallway to the kitchen, hearing his brothers’ banter and curious of what they were up to. He froze when he saw her sitting there, neck craned back as she laughed at Quinn and Luke arguing.

It was the first time seeing her since the lake house and he wasn’t expecting her to be here, in his kitchen with his two brothers. Her hair was tied up and she wore one of his old hoodies that he had let her borrow ages ago. His heart swelled at the sight, “Always beautiful and always smiling.”

He approached the three, “I hope you’re not trying to build a gingerbread house, ‘cause that looks nothing like one.”

The three sets of eyes all looked at the middle Hughes brother as he sat in the empty seat next to Y/N. Their eyes locked for a second, the same old warm feelings enveloping their chests. Y/N took a sharp breath before looking away and back to the house.

“I’ve never seen you make one before,” Quinn told Jack, “But since you’re here, help Bluey hold the walls together?”

Jack nodded, his hands next to hers as they helped Luke hold it all together. His senses were taken over by the soft scent of her perfume, the same one that she always wore.

“We just have to keep it together for a bit longer to let the frosting harden,” She explained, “Then we can finally start decorating!”

Quinn chuckled, opening the plastic bag of gum drops and eating a few, “All you guys, I’m enjoying this.”

“Give me some,” Luke complained, watching Quinn eat the candy in front of him.

A few minutes passed before the three of them held their breaths as they carefully withdrew their hands from the gingerbread house. Cheers being thrown around as it stayed stable without their support. They started decorating their house, placing rainbow colour candy on the roof and edges. Y/N at some point connecting to a speaker to let her holiday playlist hum quietly in the background.

It wasn’t perfect, definitely had its own take, with Jack sticking on the little gingerbread man onto the roof, claiming ‘he’s stargazing’.

Luke and Quinn were settled on the couches in the living room, debating on which film to watch. She was washing the mess of sugar off her hands when Jack came by to lean against the counter space next to her, “I wasn’t expecting you to be here today.” He said softly, while she wiped her hands on the red towel.

“Luke invited me a few days ago,” She replied, looking up from the towel to meet his eyes, “I didn’t know you would be home, otherwise I would’ve told you I was coming.”

“How did your finals go?”

“They went well, for the most part I think. I’m just glad that they’re over.” Y/N laughing lightly towards the end, maybe as a way to break the awkwardness between the two, “You played really good the other night.”

His eyebrows raised in response to being surprised by her comment, “Thanks, you watched?”

A faint, nearly unnoticeable, blush painted across her cheeks as she adjusted her hair, “Yeah, I’ve watched all of your games this season so far.”

Jack’s stomach flipped at her shy confession, “No wonder why I’ve been playing so well then, guess you’re my lucky charm.” He grinned, nudging her shoulder while washing his own hands.

She gave a small smile, the edges of her mouth tugging upwards slightly, “Do you maybe wanna talk?”

“Yeah, you sure Lukey won’t be upset that I’m stealing you away from him?”

“He’ll survive.”

Jack motioned with his head for her to follow him to his room, where they would have a bit more privacy away from his two brothers. Luke looked up from his spot on the couch, watching Y/N and Jack walk down the hallway. He smiled to himself, knowing that his plan is working — he just hoped for a positive outcome. She needed Jack and he knew that his brother needed her as well.

Jack shut the door softly, making his way to sit at the foot of his bed. Y/N sat next to him, being somewhat cautious of the space between the two. Her hands laid in her lap, fingers twisting around her rings.

“What did you want to talk about?” He asked her in a kind tone, his torso twisting to face her.

Her eyes glanced up to see him looking at her before darting away to her hands, “I don’t want us to be awkward anymore.”

“You think we’re being awkward?”

“Don’t you?”

He sighed, running his hands through his hair, “I thought we were doing fine.”

“I miss you,” Y/N mumbled, finally making eye contact with Jack, “I miss my best friend, I miss talking to you all the time.”

His lips twitching down for a fraction of a second, “Me too.”

“I know you asked for space to figure things out but I didn’t really expect you to disappear from my life while doing so,” She told him, her voice cracking at the end, “There were so many times where I wanted to call or text you about something that I knew you would find funny. Or about stuff I just wanted to talk to you about.”

“You should’ve”

“I didn’t want to overstep or anything, you know?”

He frowned, “I know what I told you this summer, I think about it a lot more than you probably think. I missed you too. But I am always here for you, pretty.”

Her eyes searched his face for any trace of lies, none to be found. His features only read with honesty from his words, and hope that she would believe him.

She slowly moved her head in agreement, “Okay, and we won’t do whatever that was, again?”

He chuckled softly, “Yeah, let’s never do that again.”

The two were reunited and back to how they were prior to the past summer. They continued to call and text each other whenever they met a moment of freedom, away from their obligations. Jack avoided thinking about how he used to feel around the girl, shoving those feelings so far down and putting a lock on them. The last thing he wanted was the urge to see her anything more than a friend - if he did, he was putting their rekindled friendship at risk again. He reminded himself the look on her face and the twinge in her voice whenever they discussed being more than friends, and he never wanted to go through that again. Besides, neither can get hurt if they can just ignore the magnetic pull.

Rowdy 🤠

3:12PM | Did u see the TikTok I sent u

Blues 🫐

3:27PM | ...yes

3:27PM | why would u send me that

Rowdy 🤠

3:32PM | Cuz its hella funny 🤣

Blues 🫐

3:35PM | its rlly not

3:35PM | idt the average person finds that dude funny

Rowdy 🤠

3:40PM | U hurt me ☹️

Jack rolled his eyes playfully as he sent the text before placing his phone down. He contemplated the actual question he was meaning to send her, almost nervous for her response despite the chances of Y/N turning him down was little to none.

Rowdy 🤠

3:45PM | Are u coming to the lake house this summer?

Blues 🫐

3:47PM | as long as i'm still invited

3:48PM | when r u guys planning on going?

Rowdy 🤠

3:49PM | Wdym as long as ur still invited??? Ofc u are. It wouldn't be the same without u!

3:49PM | We probs going in like 2 weeks ish? Have to check w Cole and Z when they're free

Blues 🫐

3:51PM | ok

3:51PM | i can probs go but idk how long i can acc stay since i have an internship set up for this summer :/

Rowdy 🤠

3:53PM | CONGRATS!! Thats huge! Atta girl 🙌

Blues 🫐

3:53PM | haha thank youuu

Rowdy 🤠

3:53PM | But yes, absolutely still come! We all want u there

A smile drew upon Y/N's face as she read the text messages coming into her phone from Jack. She pulled up her Apple calendar to glance at her schedule, seeing that her internship wasn't planned to start until a bit later into the summer due to the person she was working under being away for their own summer break.

She drove by herself to the lake house, arriving a few hours after the boys because of some traffic she hit on the highway. Y/N stepped out of the car, going to retrieve her suitcase from the trunk when she was scooped into strong arms,

"Bluesy!" The voice exclaimed, pulling her into a hug, "You took forever to get here!"

"Hi Lukey!" She laughed as she looked up to see the head full of curls in front of her, "Crazy traffic on my way here, sorry about that."

"Pfft, I was only joking. Do you need help with anything?" He asked, letting her go. She rolled her suitcase in his direction,

"Just this," Y/N grinned as he dramatically sighed,

"You just use me for my big muscles, I swear."

"Do not... Maybe." She teased back as they walked towards the entrance.

"Hope you're prepared to be attacked by the rest of the boys," He warned her with a playfully glint in his eyes, "Jack and Z have been moping while waiting for you."

"Oh, I am ready."

Luke shrugged before swinging open the front door, "Special guest is here!" He called out, seconds later a series of loud footsteps clambered against the hard wood floors.

"My bestie!" Trevor shouted, quickly approaching her and pulling her into an embrace, "Look at you, Blues! You get hotter every time I see you!"

"Stop it," She whined, smacking his shoulder while he squeezed her tighter, "You look good too, Trev."

Y/N hugged Cole and Quinn after, talking to them briefly when it was their turns. Both of them not failing to compliment her on the glow that she radiated.

Jack walked over to her back as she talked with Quinn. His arms wrapping around her middle with ease, "Hi pretty," He said into her ear, "It's so good to see you."

She extended her neck back to rest on his shoulder, looking at his face, "He's so gorgeous in this light."

"Hi J" She smiled softly at the brunette, "It feels good to be back, even if it's only for two weeks."

He sighed, "Wish you could stay longer, but you got your big girl job waiting for you."

"Yeah, we heard about that," Cole commented, causing her to pull away from Jack to face the rest, "Congrats, Blue! That's really sick."

"Thanks guys." She flushed slightly at the attention from everyone, placing her hand over her heart, "We will have so much fun while I'm here, gotta make this break worth it."

"Of course, we will." Quinn reassured her, walking towards the living room and the other five trailing behind him.

And they definitely did make the most out of her two weeks. Long days on the boat, soaking in the bright Michigan summer sun on the water. Drinking their Truly's and Bud Lights around the fire and enjoying the fact of everyone being together yet again. Jack and Y/N stayed glued to each other's sides, absorbing the most of the other's presence before she had to leave for her internship. They stayed up late together on the back porch, slowly sipping their drinks while telling their stories of the time they spent away from each other. He would hold her close when she got cold, her frame melting into his like two pieces of a puzzle. Jack would sway their bodies side to side when they danced together to country music on the boat, singing the lyrics to her which made her break into a fit of laughter.

Y/N splashed the cold water flowing from her sink onto her face, trying to snap out of the haze she was living through, yet again. Every time Jack was near her, she felt her heart pick up its pace, her stomach doing somersaults in her gut, the tingles that were left on her skin when he grazed her. The way chills would run up her spine whenever he would lean down to whisper something into her ear, away from everyone else hearing his words. His teasing and playful tone of voice directed towards her, causing her body to increase in temperature by a smidge - not enough for anyone else to notice except for her.

She knew the repercussions of her feelings towards the Devils player, she suffered through them before and she did not want to go through that sort of heartbreak again. Not when they were finally back to normal.

Her hands brought the soft white towel to her face, patting off the cold droplets on her skin. She stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, knowing that she was about to leave and head back into the reality of life. Out of her realm of freedom that existed in the lake house.

"You all pack?" Trevor poking his head into her bathroom, startled the girl.

"Holy shit," She gasped, clutching the towel to her chest, "You scared the fuck out of me."

He barked out a laugh, "Sorry, Bluey. You okay?"

Y/N looked away from him, "Erm, no yeah, I'm fine."

"C'mon, don't do that," Trevor groaned, stepping into her bathroom and leaning his back against the counter top, "You know you can't lie to me, I've known you for too long for you to get away with that bullshit."

Her shoulders sank as he spoke, knowing that he was right, "It's just me having stupid emotions... again."

He frowned, "I see."

"Just forget it, I'm leaving today anyways." She sighed, hanging her towel on its designated hook.

"Are you going to tell him?"

Y/N's eyes widened, "Are you crazy?"

"No, I'm Trevor..." He mumbled, mischief in his expression, "I'm joking, sorry, 'm only trying to make you smile."

Her gaze softened, "I know, but you know that I can't. Not after everything we went through, it's not worth it."

"Says who?"

"Says me, dumbass," She told him, walking past him and into her room to collect her phone from its charger, "It's stupid, they'll go away eventually. He doesn't want to do long distance anyways, plus its been like year since the talk. There's no chance he'd suddenly change his mind now."

Trevor shrugged, following her around the room, "You never know, B. I see how he looks at you and the way he talks about you."

"You don't know what you're talking about." She huffed, shoving the leftover items scattered across the room into her bags.

"Sure," He replied with ease, "I don't know what I'm talking about when I tell you that he was whining 'bout you leaving today in my room last night, but yeah, I don't know what I'm saying."

"Stop," She said, a bit harsher than she expected her tone to be as she whipped around to face her best friend, "Just... Stop, please. I can't get my hopes up again and I can't do this whole stupid thing again." Y/N told him, her voice gentler this time while waving her hands around.

Trevor slowly nodded, giving her an understanding look, "Okay, I just don't like seeing you like this."

"I'll be fine."

"Just call me when you get home, yeah?"

She nodded, "Yeah, I will."

Y/N shared her goodbyes to the rest of the boys before driving off. She twisted the volume dial in her car to maximum as she blasted her music, hoping that it will help her drown out her thoughts while she drove.

She distanced herself from the rest of the group for a while after leaving the lake house, using the excuse of her internship swallowing up the majority of her time. When in reality, she was avoiding them to run away from her feelings towards the middle Hughes brother.

Meanwhile, at the lake house, Jack's shoulders were slumped as he scrolled through his phone on the boat. Not even paying attention to the videos he was 'watching'. Cole sat next to his friend, noticing his strange and withdrawn behaviour since the girl left last week.

"You good?" Cole asked, nudging his shoulder with his own, "You've been quiet."

"Yeah, 'm fine." Jack muttered, not bothering to look at Cole.

"The boys and I are planning on having some girls over tonight, we met them at the store earlier this week." Cole explained to him, "They're our age and they're super chill, you should hang out with us."

"Sure," The brunette shrugged, "Whatever you say."

Cole frowned at Jack's attitude, but deciding to not press him any further, "Okay."

There were four girls who came over to the Hughes lake house. The group of nine lounging around the chairs that surrounded the bon fire. Most of the guys talking to a girl with the exception of Luke, who had invited a few of his buddies and them keeping mostly to themselves for the night. A little blonde, named Olivia, sitting next to Jack throughout the night.

He didn't mind too much, Olivia was pretty. She had bright eyes and an effortless smile when she talked to him. Maybe it was from the alcohol he had been drinking the whole day, but the flirts being tossed between him and Olivia came with ease.

Every compliment she gave him, he was able to give her one back. Causing the blonde to smile and flutter her lashes to him.

Maybe it was from the multiple beers that Jack managed to kill at the fire that brought him to where he was now. His chest pressed up against hers, sandwiching her between Jack and the wall of his bedroom. They shared desperate kisses, her hands pulling at his hair, making him let out a low groan. They drunkly stumbled towards his bed, articles of clothing being tossed to random corners of his room as they moved. Jack threw Olivia without effort onto his bed, crawling up to meet her into another heated make out. He pulled the covers over their bare bodies, hiding away from the world from his next moves. Hiding away from what would possibly be his biggest mistake that would come and haunt him.

Luke bid his friends goodbye, late into the night as they drove back to the city. He closed the front door before roaming the somewhat empty lake house. Trevor and Cole still outside with the girls they had invited, Quinn on the contrary went to bed. The exhaustion of the long day spent on the water getting to him.

The youngest Hughes brother walked around the kitchen, throwing out the empty cans that were left behind. After making the space somewhat decent, he sat at one of the bar stools and scrolled through his Twitter feed while eating a slice of leftover pizza.

"Have you seen Olivia?" A girl asked him after stepping into the space. Luke looked up from his phone, seeing that she was speaking to him,

"Uh, no?" Luke said to the unknown girl, although it came out more like a question, "But then again, I didn't catch all your names." He chuckled.

The girl gave a small laugh, "I'm Ashley. My friend Olivia, she's blonde and I think she came in here with Jack. We're planning on leaving and she isn't replying to her texts."

His eyebrows shot up, "Jack?"

"Mhm," Ashley hummed, "They were flirting and shit all night before they left us at the fire. I don't know if she's spending the night but I kinda need to know if we're leaving her here or not, y'know?"

Luke slowly nodded, trying his hardest to stay up to speed with everything Ashley was telling him. Although he was still focused on the fact that Jack, his brother who was hopelessly in love with his friend Y/N, was supposedly with another girl at this moment.

"Um, yeah. I can go ask, just wait here." He told her before dropping his half-eaten pizza on its plate. Luke pushed off his seat and began walking towards the second floor of the house. He approached Jack's room, halting in his movements when he heard the muffled moans and sounds of sex coming from the room.

His ears turned red, quickly walking away and heading back to where he left Ashley, "Uh, I think it's safe to say that your friend is probably spending the night." He mumbled out, still slightly embarrassed at what he heard.

Ashley thanked Luke and left through the back door to retrieve her friends. Luke stood somewhat frozen in his spot, his hands reaching into his pocket to shakily pull out his phone. His thumb hovered over her text contact, debating whether or not to tell her. He felt conflicted since it was his brother and that the two were not exclusive. But anyone with eyes could tell that Y/N and Jack had undeniable chemistry and feelings towards each other. She was his friend nonetheless, one of his closest friends too. The two got even closer after he committed to UMich for the upcoming school year.

He swallowed harshly as his fingers moved around his screen, silently apologizing to someone for what he was about to do. He couldn't decipher if he was sorry for Jack, somewhat sabotaging him behind his back, or for Y/N, who he knew was going to be heartbroken once she found out. Luke told himself that she deserved to know and he wasn't going to be the type of friend to hide this from her.

Rustyy

11:52PM | Hey are u awake?

Blues 🫐

11:54PM | ya i am

11:54PM | what's up?

Rustyy

11:54PM | Um I have to tell u smt and u might get upset

Blues 🫐

11:55PM | huh?

Rustyy

11:56PM | Jack is hooking up with a girl rn

11:59PM | Blues?

12:02AM | Are u still there?

12:05AM | Are u ok???

Blues 🫐

12:06AM | no i'm here

Rustyy

12:06AM | I'm so sorry

Blues 🫐

12:07AM | its not ur fault

Rustyy

12:07AM | Ik but I still feel awful

Blues 🫐

12:07AM | its his life

12:08AM | he can do wtv he wants

Rustyy

12:08AM | But hes hurting u :(

Blues 🫐

12:09AM | ill be fine

Rustyy

12:09AM | Are u sure?

Blues 🫐

12:09AM | ya

Rustyy

12:10AM | I'm always here for you🫶 If u ever wanna talk about it

Blues 🫐

12:13AM | thanks lukey

Rustyy

12:14AM | For the record, I think Jack is a fucking idiot for hurting you like this. An idiot in general tbh

Luke sighed, placing his phone down and rubbing his jaw with his hand, "Fuck's sake."

"You okay, bud?" Trevor asked, closing the glass door behind Cole as they walked in with their hands full of empty cans.

Cole tossed the cans into the trash, "You seem stressed, you good Lukey?"

"No yeah, I'm good." He lied, checking his phone to see if Y/N had responded yet.

"Then why are you checking your phone for notifs?" Cole chuckled, settling in the bar seat next to the youngest Hughes, "Who are you waiting a response from?"

"Rusty got a girl?" Trevor asked jokingly wiggling his eyebrows, leaning on his forearms from the opposite side of the kitchen counter.

Blues 🫐

12:21AM | ya ik but i let him do it anyways

The screen lit up as her notification appeared. Cole, ever the curious one, looked over to see if he could catch the name, "Y/N?!" He let out, a little too loudly.

Luke shushed him immediately, "Dude, shut the fuck up!"

"You're hooking up with her?" Trevor's voice being more aggressive than before, "Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

"No, it's not like that!" Luke huffed, his eyes pleading to the two boys, hoping that they would believe him, "I just had to tell her something, but I swear we're not anything like that."

"Yeah right," Trevor scoffed, walking over to the side where Luke sat, "You and her have always been close, I just thought you two were like siblings."

"Trevor, trust me on this," Luke told him, careful with his next words, "We are not like that, at all."

The Ducks player only rolled his eyes, "Okay, then what is it like?"

Luke swallowed hard, seeing that both of Jack's best friends were staring intently at him. It was hard for him to tell her, but exposing his brother's actions to Cole and Trevor, who both cared deeply for Y/N, was another level of difficult.

"Jack is hooking up with that Olivia chick right now," Luke muttered, his voice a little shaky as he spoke, "One of the girls that came over. I heard it 'nd everything, I had to tell Y/N. She deserves to know."

Cole's jaw dropped slightly, his hands swinging up to cover his open mouth, "What the fuck?" He let out, just barely above a whisper, "Are you fucking for real?"

Trevor stepped back, nearly stumbling in his movements, "Are you fucking with us right now?"

Luke shook his head, "I wish I was. One of her friends came in and asked me to check if Olivia was still with Jack, I went upstairs to check and I heard it." He shuddered as the memory flashed in his head, "I wouldn't lie to her."

He handed his phone to Cole, revealing the text conversation between himself and Y/N, as evidence of proof. None of the guys would lie to her about a topic as heavy as this, they all silently knew what she felt for Jack and vice versa.

Trevor stood behind Cole, also reading the messages. His eyes widening as the information sunk in, "Oh, that's fucked up."

"They're not official though, right?" Cole asked the two, his eyebrows knit together.

Luke shook his head, "No, but like, they basically are."

"If he could just grow a pair and tell her," Trevor scoffed, "I know she would never just upright confess to him, but he could. I don't get why he doesn't."

"It's because of the distance, neither one wants to do long distance." Cole explained, "I know that he would ask her out immediately, if it weren't for the fact that she's in Michigan and he's in Jersey."

"He could fly her out every weekend if he wanted to," Trevor argued, "Fucking hell, I've flown her out to Anaheim for a weekend before."

"Should we tell Jack that she knows?" Cole asked to two, "Or do we let him figure that out?"

Luke dragged his hand across his jaw, "No, this is his mess to figure out."

"Agreed." Trevor nodded, "Knowing Bluey, she's gonna push herself away and Jack doesn't deserve to get the easy answer to why."

Cole hummed in agreement, "Yeah, facts. I can't believe he would do this to her, she just left last week and I swear they were cuddling and shit the whole time she was here."

"Yeah, they were." Luke sighed.

"She told me the morning she left that her feelings towards him were coming back." Trevor frowned, thinking out the way her face looked so defeated, "And the night before, Jack told me that he still liked her and his feelings never went away."

"This is so fucked." Cole groaned, Luke mimicking his actions.

Y/N seemed to evaporate from Jack's world. The morning following his drunken hook up with Olivia, he noticed that Y/N hadn't sent him a single TikTok or meme - somewhat unusual for her even though she had claimed that she'd been busy. Cole, Trevor, and Luke filled Quinn in the next day on Jack's activities, Quinn sharing his own disappointment in the middle Hughes brother.

Jack continued to invite the blonde over as a indiscrete way to fill the void the Y/N left behind. Completely oblivious to the other four's feelings towards his summer fling. To Jack, it appeared that the other guys didn't seem to care much. They never said anything against him and Olivia. To Jack, Olivia was nothing like Y/N. She didn't have creative comebacks, she didn't have the same heartwarming laughter, she couldn't point out the different constellations. But to Jack, Olivia was still pretty - a different kind of pretty, and she was fun. They had fun together and she was thrilled to discover that he was a NHL player.

Little by little, Jack found himself thinking less of the girl and directed his attention more towards the blonde. The more focused he was on Olivia, the less his heart hurt thinking about how he and Y/N couldn't be together. He convinced himself that she only saw him as a friend now, and he had to continue to bury his feelings for her.

He knew deep down that this wasn't fair to Olivia, but what she didn't know couldn't hurt her. Olivia was fun and extroverted, similar to him. She liked to party, a lot. Jack didn't mind, the alcohol drowned his feelings towards the girl he was missing.

She didn't seem to miss him though. Y/N disappeared. She went from barely responding to him, hours to maybe days between responses, to none at all. He scoffed at her behaviour, Jack knew that he hadn't done anything to Y/N. Except for the fact that he was hooking up with Olivia practically every day, but Y/N wouldn't know that. How would she? Jack had full faith in Cole, Trevor, Quinn, and Luke that they wouldn't tell her because bro-code and all. Besides, she saw him as a friend so why would she care who he was hooking up with?

Him and Olivia agreed that it was a fun summer fling, he had to return to his normal life and she had to go back to Miami - where she went to school, he learned. She had teased the fact that she might come back the following summer, hinting to press resume on whatever they called their situationship or relationship. He only laughed in response.

When Jack, Quinn, and Luke returned back to their parents' house for a few nights before the two had to fly back for the season, he heard his older brother on the phone when he walked past his room. Jack didn't usually care who Quinn was talking to, but a mention of one's name caught his attention.

He lingered outside the half-closed bedroom, trying to see if he had maybe misheard.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," Quinn spoke into the phone, "I'm really sorry again for what you had to go through, Bluesy."

Jack's heart stopped. "Why the hell is she calling Quinn when she's going through something? I'm the person she always talks to."

There was a pause, for what Jack assumed Y/N was now talking.

"Yeah, I know - He's an idiot for doing that to you. You didn't deserve that." another pause. "Mhm, flying out tomorrow morning.... I miss you too.... Yeah, definitely come fly out during your break! I would love to show you around Van."

"What the fuck?" Jack rolled his eyes in frustration, "Not only did she not tell me that she was talking to some dude who's now hurt her, but she wants to visit Quinn? Why doesn't she ever ask to visit me?"

The middle Hughes brother walked away, upset that she wasn't coming to him about her problems anymore. He had thought that she'd been too busy with her internship to update him on her life, but clearly not when she was on the phone with Quinn. "When did she replace me with my own brother?"

Jack laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling with several different emotions flowing through his system. He snapped out of his haze after hearing Luke and Quinn in the hallway, his door was closed so their conversation was muffled.

"Were you on the phone with Blue?" He heard Luke ask. His curiosity got the best of his and he quietly crept to his door, placing his ear against it to listen better.

"Yeah, I just got off a call with her."

"How is she doing? Better I hope."

Jack heard Quinn sigh, and he imagined that Quinn was running his hand through his hair.

"Slightly better, I think. She's still crushed though, I could tell by her voice that she was trying not to cry while talking about him."

"He basically cheated on her. I was sick when I told her."

Jack's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "How did Luke know she was in a relationship? How did I not know? Who is this dude?"

"I bet, I'm glad you told her though. She deserved to know."

"Yeah, I know." Luke told Quinn, "I FaceTimed her the next day and she was a mess. She cried to me for like an hour straight and it killed me that I couldn't be there for her."

"It's okay, she knew you were there in like spirit or something like that." Quinn chuckled, "Come on, let's see if mom needs help with anything."

Jack slowly stepped back from his door, his mind running through his interactions and conversations with Y/N. He searched for any indication or mention that she was seeing someone. Then he wondered if she was seeing this mystery man while doing her internship. He couldn't figure it out, so he decided to hear it from her.

They haven't talked in weeks, but he knew they were still friends. She left the lake house, giving Jack a tight hug and telling him she would call. She'd been busy so maybe now with the school year around the corner, she would be free to text. Well, in Jack's head she was, she had just finished calling Quinn so surely, she could respond to a text message.

Rowdy 🤠

5:35PM | Hey its been a min lol

5:35PM | Hope everything is ok

5:39PM | How was the internship??

5:46PM | U should visit Jersey sometime! I can get you the best tickets to a game 🙃

Jack's leg bounced anxiously as he waited for her to respond, but she never did. "She's just busy. Probably packing for her move." He told himself to soothe the anxious feeling building in his chest.

"Hey," Jack mumbled, walking into the living room where his two brothers were lounging and playing madden on the TV, "Have you guys heard from Y/N?"

Luke and Quinn broke their focus on the screen and glanced at each other. Quinn paused their game, lazily resting the controller on his knee,

"Yeah, I texted her a few days ago. Why?" Quinn asked, clearly lying to Jack's face. He didn't know that Jack had heard their conversations just over an hour ago.

He shrugged, "Just curious, I haven't heard from her in a while and I heard that she was cheated on or something."

For the second time, Quinn and Luke looked at each other. Luke's eyebrows scrunched while Quinn's looked more confused.

"Where'd you hear that?" Luke crossing his arms over his chest, his own controller left on the empty space on the couch.

Jack's eyes darted away from his brothers, "Uh, Cole mentioned it but he said that he didn't know the guy, do you guys know? She never told me." He added, hoping to pry some information from the two.

"Yeah, no idea." Quinn replied, leaning back into the cushions, "You said Trevor told you that?"

"Mhm." Jack hummed out, not even noticing that Quinn brought up their other friend.

Quinn scoffed, finally putting the pieces together that Jack was eavesdropping on their conversation from earlier. He shook his head lowly before resuming the game.

"You don't know the guy?" Luke repeated, Jack nodding as a response, "That is wild." Luke mumbled, exacerbated and copying Quinn's movements of his head.

"What is?" Jack questioned, looking back at his brothers, "Oh come on, bro, you're not gonna tell me?"

Luke rolled his eyes, playing attention to the video game, "If you don't know by now, then I guess you'll never figure it out. She probably doesn't want to tell you."

Jack huffed, "What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?"

He stood for a moment longer before realizing that neither of them were going to tell him who this guy is. Jack grumbled something about Luke saying a cryptic message underneath his breath before leaving the room, going to his room where he left his phone. He was hoping by the time he returned to it that she would've responded.

He never did hear back from her. His mind went elsewhere as he moved back to New Jersey and got swept up by the daily practices and going straight into the busy routine of being an NHL player. He thought about her occasionally.

Jack only got updates on her life through her Instagram and not surprisingly Luke's Instagram and Snapchat. Luke had started his freshmen year at UMich and he fit right in. Y/N seemed to have taken him along with his new friends from the hockey team under her wing and showed them around. Jack saw the numerous stories of Luke with his friends and Y/N there too. He saw when Y/N would post herself and her friends at Luke's games, wearing some of Quinn's old UMich hockey clothes.

Luke appeared in a few of the photos she had posted in a photo dump, the two getting frozen yogurt together, them studying together, and the one that hit him too close to home: Luke and her on the ice together. The photo was the last in the collection of pictures. Y/N was on her back, clearly after falling on her skates, and Luke hunched over laughing at the sight.

A couple weeks later, she posted that she was in Vancouver and posted Quinn with the text 'best tour guide!' over it. Quinn included her in two pictures in his own Instagram post. One with her flexing the Hughes 43 jersey, the second one being a photo of her curled up in a blanket on his couch. Jack discovering that she had stayed in Quinn's apartment during her trip.

The ugly feeling of jealously burned deep in Jack's chest every time he saw her post another photo of her hanging out with Luke on campus. He told himself that he would talk to her when he comes home to Michigan for Christmas, but he didn't get the opportunity to see her. Trevor flew her out to LA to spend her Christmas in the sunny state, and Jack saw the what felt like endless pictures of her and Trevor together at Disneyland and exploring the city.

Rowdy 🤠

2:03PM | How's LA?

2:05PM | Acc fuck that Idc abt LA. Why are you ignoring me? What did I do?

2:10PM | Jesus the least u could do is respond. How immature do u have to be to ignore all my texts??? Yk I didn't do shit to u

Blues 🫐

2:27PM | yo this is trevor

2:27PM | bro just give her the space she needs k? and yk ily dude but dont talk to her like that. tf is wrong w u?

Rowdy 🤠

2:28PM | Mb

Trevor handed her phone back to her, "There, that should shut him up for a bit."

"Thanks, Trev." She smiled at her friend before stuffing her phone into her pocket, "I appreciate it."

The barista placed their iced coffees on the counter, Trevor taking a hold of both of them and giving Y/N her drink. The two walked out of the cafe and onto the boardwalk,

"You know I always got your back." He told her, "I can't believe he hasn't realized that he was the one who caused this shit."

She chuckled for a moment before her shoulders slumped and her gaze dropping, "'Yeah." Y/N murmured.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tugging her smaller frame to his side, "Cheer up, Blues! You're here in sunny LA and you don't deserve an idiot like him. He doesn't get to upset you, especially not when I'm around!"

"You're right." She grinned at his goofy expression, knowing that he was simply trying to get her mind off of things. Just like how Luke was by spending his free time with her and introducing her to his teammates, fully aware that they never shut up therefore not giving her a moment of silence to drop back into thinking about his brother. Just like how Quinn flew her to Vancouver for her mid-semester break to cheer her up.

Jack on the other hand seemed to be in a bad mood since receiving the message from Trevor that was sent through her phone. He wore a scowl and seemed to dish out backhanded insults towards his brothers during his time in Michigan. Luke had found out via FaceTime with Y/N, where Trevor also made an appearance, of what had happened. Luke could only roll his eyes at Jack's behaviour, him and Quinn in disbelief that Jack was yet to put pieces of the puzzle perfectly laid out in front of him together.

Luke sat on her bed, watching her flip through flashcards before her last final. He finished his just days prior, but decided to keep her company as she studied,

"I hate to ask this," Luke said softly, causing her to look up from the cue cards, "But are you planning on coming to the lake house this summer? I know it's a stupid question since you know who is going to be there, but I hope you know that the rest of us do want you there."

She sighed, placing the flashcard into her lap, "I don't know Luke."

He gave her a reassuring look, "I know, I just figured I would ask. Quinn, Cole, Trevor, and I were talking about it and I told them how you've been doing better and everything."

"Yeah, I know," Y/N shifted her position at her desk to face Luke, who was laying on her bed, "I barely even think about him anymore and it's because you and the rest of the guys have been doing such a good job taking my mind off of the whole situation." Referring to both the guys he mentioned alongside Luke's teammates.

"I just don't know how I would handle seeing him in person," She explained to the younger Hughes, "I don't want to mess up everyone's summer too."

"You know you wouldn't, if anything it'll be him ruining our summers." Luke chuckled, "But I get it. I don't want to pressure you or anything."

"I'm sorry." She told him, giving him a sad look.

"Don't be sorry, we just want whatever is best for you, okay?" He said, "Maybe not this summer but I'm sure in a few, you can finally face him. Maybe he'll finally get it through his thick skull that he's the fuck up."

"What do you mean she's not coming this summer?" Jack asked, shutting the fridge with force causing multiple eyes from the kitchen to look up at him, "She always comes to the lake house."

Quinn shrugged from the bar stool, flipping through the pages of his book, "She said she was busy with work this summer."

"That's gotta be some bullshit." Jack huffed, cracking open his second beer of the day.

"You do realize that a lot of people have to work to support their living, right?" Cole commented, still drying the lake water from his hair with a towel.

"Yeah, not everyone is blessed to have an NHL contract under their belt." Luke chuckled, leaning against the glass sliding door.

"But still, she always comes to the lake house," Jack told the guys, "It's not like she has an issue with spending our NHL contract money either." He mumbled the last part, hinting towards her trip to Vancouver and LA that Quinn and Trevor both covered.

"Okay, thats not fair," Trevor groaned, pushing himself off of his spot on top of the counter, "She was on break and she deserves a trip away from Michigan. She lives here both in and out of school."

"Exactly my point!" Jack exclaimed, raising his arm up, "We're here in Michigan at the lake house and she can't come? It's like she's fucking avoiding us."

"Maybe she has good reason for that." Trevor muttered, turning away from Jack.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Jack raised his voice towards the Ducks player. Luke buried his face in his hands, Quinn closed his book, and Cole poking his eyes out from the towel he held. The three fully anticipating what was coming. Jack and Trevor had history of getting hot-headed in certain situations, and it was very evident that this moment was one of them. Both of them were frustrated at the conversation but for different reasons.

Trevor was already irritated that Jack was behaving the way he was over the fact that Y/N wasn't planning on coming to the lake. Jack being oblivious to the underlying reason of this decision, which he should have realized months ago. Trevor loved Jack like a brother, but spending years of showering Y/N with compliments, cuddles, and actions filled with love: the forehead kisses, the hugs from behind, holding her hand in public, letting her wear his clothes to name a few. Then, sleeping with some other girl the moment Y/N leaves the lake house, and continue hooking up with this girl for the remainder of the summer - to take out his frustration on Y/N was where Jack crossed the line in Trevor's head.

Jack was beyond pissed off that Y/N had abruptly cut him out of her life. It seemed as though after everything, the late night conversations, dancing with each other on the boat, cuddled up together in front of bon fires, she was more than okay to drop him. He couldn't understand it. He thought that she would at least return to the lake house this summer. She always came after the initial invite three years ago, but the ignoring to not even letting him know that she couldn't make it because of "work" was what he called a load of bullshit. Jack fully blamed her for how their friendship was now, he put himself in the awkward position a few years ago when he distanced himself from her. She couldn't do the same for him?

"It fucking means that she doesn't have to be here if she doesn't want to be." Trevor spat back, mirroring Jack's intensity.

Jack scoffed, pushing Trevor's shoulders, "You keep saying all this fucking loaded bullshit about her not wanting to talk to me, she needs her space, that she doesn't want to be here. Why can't you just fucking say it to my face what you've been wanting to say?"

Trevor shoved Jack's shoulders back in response, "Maybe if you weren't so fucking blind, you would realize it by now."

"Just fucking tell me! Say it to my fucking face, stop hiding under all these cryptic ass messages." Jack shouted, returning the push with significantly more force than the last. Quinn stood up, prepared to have to break them apart along with Cole, who had placed his towel on the countertop.

"Have you ever thought that you fucking some blonde, days after you were cuddling and whispering in Y/N's ear wouldn't get back to her?" Trevor snapped, venom laced in his words, "She fucking knows you dipshit. She's known since the first night you hooked up with that girl."

"What the fuck are you talking about?!" Jack yelled, repeatedly shoving Trevor backwards until he stumbled into the edge of the coffee table in the living room, "You're so full of shit! I bet you two have been fucking around too, no wonder why you wanted her in LA so bad!"

The two collided to the ground after pushing each other around with a bit of too much force. Yelling and shouts being aggressively thrown at one another, insults and curses intertwined in their sentences. Quinn and Cole immediately stepping in to pull the two apart. Cole grabbing Jack and yanking him back towards the kitchen. His hair was disheveled and face red with anger,

"You so full of fucking shit all the motherfucking time!" Jack yelled at Trevor, trying to break away from Cole's firm hold on him. Luke also at Jack's side, a tight grip his shoulder.

"You don't remember fucking that girl all summer?" Trevor spat back, fighting less against Quinn, who kept him in place in the living room.

"C'mon, Trevor. Let's take a break," Quinn told him in a steady voice, "Let's go before you say something you'll regret."

Quinn slightly pushing Trevor towards the hallway that lead to the front door, Trevor still had eyes on Jack, "You can't just lead Y/N on for years, practically treating her like a girlfriend and making her fall for you then you sleeping with the next girl who looks at you! She deserves so much better than a piece of shit like you!"

Jack stopped his struggle against Cole and Luke's hold, his face dropping as it all clicked for him. His face visibly paled. Him and that blonde last summer, he couldn't even remember her name anymore or what she looked like. Jack completely forgot her the second they left the lake house last summer. All the pieces of the puzzle coming together and he felt sick to his stomach.

"Oh my fucking god." Jack breathed out.

Luke and Cole let go of Jack as they watched it sink in for him. He was shaky as he took a step back, his hand flying to his hair.

"She knew?" He whispered out, looking up at Luke and Cole.

Quinn managed to pull Trevor out of the house to cool down on the front porch while leaving Jack with Luke and Cole.

"Yeah, dude." Cole slowly nodded, taking in Jack's distraught appearance, "She knows."

Jack's chest rose and fell faster, fingers continuously rushing through his hair, "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He muttered to himself.

Luke placed a light hand on his brother's shoulder, "Bro, you have to breathe."

Jack tugged at the collar of his shirt, feeling the air getting heavier, "How long? Tell me Trevor was lying when he said she's known since the beginning. How long has she known?" He begged his brother.

Luke looked at Jack, seeing his desperate eyes brimmed with tears and his chest heaving, "Jack, you got to breathe."

"I- I can't."

"Hey," Cole told him softly, "Look at me, just copy my breathing okay?"

Cole inhaled and exhaled slowly, using his hands to demonstrate the motion, "Just breathe, Jack."

"I c- can't breathe." Jack stuttered, clamping his eyes closed and rapidly shaking his head.

"Yes, you can." Luke reassured him, "Pay attention to Cole, copy him."

Jack glanced at Cole, who was encouraging Jack to deep breathe. He shakily inhaled and his breath trembled as he exhaled. Luke and Cole nodded, "Yes, exactly. A few more times, Rowdy."

He copied Cole for a few more breaths, his chest no longer rising and falling at a fast pace. Jack's body relaxed as he caught his breath. Cole led Jack back towards the barstools, where Luke handed him a glass of water,

"Drink this, you'll feel better." Luke said to Jack, who glumly hummed a response.

Minutes passed and Jack was back to normal, although his head was cradled in his hands, "Lukey, how long has she known...?" He asked, scared of knowing the answer but he had to find out.

Luke looked at his brother, he swallowed hard, "Since the first night at the bon fire."

Jack inhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes shut, "How did she find out?"

"I told her." Luke said to him, "I'm sorry but she deserved to know."

He shook his head, "Why didn't you tell me that she knew?"

"It's not his fault, man." Cole sighed, patting his back gently, "You put yourself in that position, we thought that you would figure it out eventually."

"I really fucked up." Jack breathed out, "Oh fuck."

"Yeah maybe," Cole replied, "Do you still have feelings for her?"

"Of course, I do." Jack mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

Cole's eyes widened, "Really? After a year of you two not speaking and you being pissed at her?"

Jack scoffed, "Shut up dude, I can't get rid of them. Trust me, I've tried."

"Should I call her?" Jack turned to his younger brother, who he knew grew extremely close to the girl.

Luke shook his head, "Don't. Give her space, you owe that to her."

Months came and went, Luke moving to New Jersey after being drafted to the NHL halfway through college, Y/N finishing her degree around the same time. Luke was the one who broke her the news that Jack finally figured it out. He left out the fact that Trevor was the one who let it slip during a fight. It was around 4 months after that day when Y/N bravely decided to call Jack. She couldn't put a finger on the exact reason why she had to urge to. It could've been the fact that she had finally realized that she no longer had any sort of romantic feelings towards the man. It also could have been the fact that she missed being at the lake house with her closest friends. She was nervous just prior to the call, Luke on FaceTime with her as he was retuning from a meeting and encouraging her to press the button. He promised that Jack was at home and he came to terms with his mistakes, he only wanted to apologize to the girl.

So she called, he picked up almost immediately, a bit shaken up to see her contact photo on his screen. They talked for over an hour, where he apologized profusely for his actions and where she listened and also gave him her piece. After the call, she returned to her own reality of life.

She dated another classmate for a brief time, Jack also finding himself in a handful of short relationships.

All that mattered to both of them was that they could agree to put that year behind them. It seemed that actually talking it out, even if it was just over the phone, worked well. Y/N could hear the pure honesty in Jack's voice when he gave her a whole-hearted apology. He knew that he made a grave mistake that hurt her beyond belief, and his behaviour towards her only amplifying the hurt she felt. But those months and that summer away completely away from him allowed her to find her peace and find herself outside of just Jack Hughes.

She travelled outside of her annual visits to see Quinn, Trevor, and Cole (who was added to the routine soon after her initial trips in her junior year). She was now 23 and about to start her summer. She paced around her room, double checking to see that she had packed everything she needed.

Her phone lit up, an incoming call.

"Hey!"

"Hey Blues, I'm outside. Let's hit the road!"

She laughed, "Okay, coming down now."

Y/N grabbed the handles of her bags and made her way towards the front where she saw the familiar car. A large grin drew upon her face, when he stepped out of the car.

"Look at you!" She exclaimed, hugging him tightly, "New Jersey looks good on you, Lukey!"

He chuckled, "Ugh, I missed you. Missed Michigan in general to be honest. I sometimes wish that I was a UMich student again and do stupid college student things."

She rolled her eyes, "You don't wish that."

"I do!" Luke grinned, "Okay, maybe not the school work stuff but you know what I mean."

"Oh whatever, let's get going!"

"Are you nervous at all?" He asked her as they drove on the high way.

She shrugged, "A bit."

Luke glanced over to her, "It'll be good."

Y/N took a deep breath as Luke stepped out of his car. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for being back to the familiar lake house.

He opened her door with their suitcases at his feet, "You can do this. I believe in you."

"Yeah." She breathed out, slowly moving out of the vehicle.

"Hey, tell you what," He nudged her as they walked towards the door, "If it really sucks, like really fucking sucks, you tell me and I'll drive you home. No questions asked."

"I can't ask you to do that." She chuckled, climbing up the front steps.

They paused at the front door, he looked down at her and his eyes were full of sincerity, "I mean it. I'll drive you back if this whole thing is awful for you."

She swallowed and slowly nodded, "Alright, let's do this."

Luke opened the door, motioning her to enter first as he followed behind her with their luggage. Quinn lifted his head from his spot at the bottom of the stairs, he was anticipating their arrival and wanted to be the first one there.

"Hey," He gave her a small smile, "I'm really glad you decided to come."

"Hi Q," She grinned, hugging the man, "I'm happy to be back."

"You let me know if there's any issue okay? I'll drive you home the second you feel uncomfortable." He whispered into her ear, "I know you guys talked it out but still."

Y/N squeezed him a bit tighter, "You and Lukey are the exact same, I swear. Thank you."

The three walked towards the main area, Trevor had his arm deep into the chip bag when his eyes landed on her, "Blue!' He shouted, mouth somewhat full of food.

Cole snapped his head backwards, "You're here!"

The two bodies collided with hers in a group hug, she laughed at their reactions.

"You guys act like I didn't just see you at my graduation."

"Too long." Trevor complained, ruffling her hair as he pulled away, "You look good, as always."

"Like you say, Z, she gets hotter every time I see her." Cole snickered, very obviously checking her out with his eyes travelling up and down her body.

Trevor smacked the back of his head, "Off limits, you know that."

"And you know that I'm joking!" Cole winced at the contact.

Y/N only giggled at their interactions before walking into her self-proclaimed bedroom. She took it all in. It had been over two years since she last stepped foot into the room. Yet, everything looked the exact same. She started to unload her things into their designated spots.

A light knock was placed against her door, "Come in!" She sang out as she danced to the music playing off her phone.

The figure stepped into her room, cautious of the space it was entering.

"Hey," He gave her a smile.

She looked up from the dresser, "Hi, Jack."

"You made it," He said, slowly entering further into her room, "How was the drive with Rusty?"

"It was good. We caught up on everything." She replied, sitting down on the foot of her bed, "How are you?"

"Good, good," Jack mumbled, "Just wanted to check in and see if you were settling in alright."

Y/N chuckled, "Thanks."

He gave a small nod before turning towards the door. She stood from her bed,

"Hey Jack?"

"Yeah?" He looked over his shoulder to see her, "Perfect as ever." Jack mentally told himself.

"I missed you." She breathed out.

His eyes widened, her words being the last thing he was expecting her to say, "I missed you too. I'm really happy you decided to come this summer."

"Me too."

The sun was beginning to set on the lake, the beautiful hues of pinks and oranges stretching over the sky. The frogs and crickets making their noises in the grass, filling the air. Luke and Trevor were competing in some game at the picnic table outside, Jack and Cole tossing a football between each other while catching up, leaving Quinn and Y/N sitting outside with their kindles in their laps.

"Yo, Bluesy and Hughesy!" Trevor barked towards their direction. The two looking up from their books, "Play some music, would you?"

Quinn rolled his eyes, standing up to retrieve a speaker from the kitchen. He returned and placed it on the grass, "You can connect to it." He told the girl.

She scrolled through her music, trying to find a perfect playlist to play. Fully knowing it would be the same playlist that she always used at the lake house. Morgan Wallen played from the speaker, erupts of cheers from the boys as the song started.

Quinn started building the bon fire with help from Cole. Luke and Trevor claiming to be the ones responsible for getting the drinks and s'mores ingredients. Y/N sat in one of the chairs facing the bon fire, her knees tucked to her chest.

"Feels like home?" Jack asked, settling into the chair beside her. She hummed,

"Exactly."

"I saw your pictures from graduation," He told her, the two facing each other now, "Congratulations. That's really impressive, I'm proud of you."

"Thanks," She smiled sheepishly, in reaction to the attention, "It wasn't easy but I'm glad that I did it."

"I would die to have a brain like yours, I cannot imagine going through college."

Y/N laughed, "And I would die to be a hotshot hockey player that everyone knows."

"This almost reminds me of the first time I met you," Jack said, glancing at the unlit fire, "Do you remember that?"

"Yeah, I do. At that house party right?"

He nodded, "Yeah, and you used that crazy pick up line on me."

Y/N's face heated up at the memory, "Oh boy. What was it again?"

"Something about me looking like I was in love with you?" Jack laughed, looking at her to see if she could recite it.

"A fruit punch Truly for you," Luke sang out which interrupted the two, handing her the red can, "Hope UMich parties haven't ruined this drink for you like it did for Pink Whitney."

"It did not, so thank you!" She grinned as Luke plopped into the seat on the opposite side of her, drinking from his bottle of beer.

Jack eventually moved a few seats over since Trevor complained that he wanted to sit next to the girl. Everyone was a couple drinks in, finally reaching full summer mode and relaxing around the well built fire. The group watched as Y/N and Luke explained to them, once again, how to properly build a s'more to perfection.

"And voila! The perfect s'more!' Y/N giggled, holding up her prized possession, "Here you go, J!"

Jack eyes widened in surprise as he leaned over to take it from her hand, "Why thank you!"

"Me next, Bluey!" Cole exclaimed, raising his hand.

Luke pouted the infamous Hughes pout from his spot, "I'm the one who taught her the craft of the perfect s'more."

"Lukey, you can make mine." Trevor chuckled from his seat., "Blues, want another drink?"

"Yes!" She laughed, reaching for her fourth? Maybe fifth, or sixth drink of the night.

Quinn lowly shook his head, "Maybe your last drink of the night?"

She frowned, "Boo, don't ruin my fun, Huggy Bear."

He raised his hands in surrender, "Okay, I won't tell you want to do."

"Race to shot gun?" Trevor challenged her, "For old times sake?"

He was referring to their old tradition of shot gunning a drink at every party in high school. She gave his a grin, mischief shining in her eyes,

"You are going down, Zegras."

"Oh, I love your enthusiasm, Bluesy! Hate that I'm going to have to ruin that for you." He said, cheekily.

Cole and Luke pulled out their phones to record whilst Quinn wore an unimpressed look on his face, when deep down he was also enjoying their playful banter.

Y/N and Trevor both used their teeth to crack a hole at the bottom end of the can. They stood facing each other, both determined to win the challenge, one in which they haven't took part in since their high school days.

"Go!" Cole shouted out, the two immediately bringing the popped hole to their lips and cracking open the tab. Cole was basically bouncing in excitement, Luke and Jack both grinning impossibly as they watched.

The sound of a can crushing echoed the area.

"Fuck yeah!" Trevor hollered, raising his can in celebration but only to look at Y/N who also held her can up high.

"I won that!" She exclaimed, "Don't even play with me."

"Nah, I easily won."

They turned to face the other four, hoping that they would confirm who won.

"Uh, I think you guys tied." Cole told the two, looking at the video to see them both finish chugging at the same time.

Trevor groaned, "No fucking way."

"You're joking!" Y/N cried out, "I swear I had that one in the bag too."

"Yeah, no," Luke laughed, rewatching his own recording, "You guys finished at the exact same time. That's crazy."

She pouted and stumbled in her step back towards her seat, the alcohol dragging her limbs down. Y/N went to flop into her seat, nearly missing the chair if it weren't for Jack who conveniently stood next to it.

"Alright," He chuckled, arm around her middle, "This girl is going to bed."

"I'ms not drunk," She slurred, attempting to straighten up.

"What did I say," Quinn rolled his eyes playfully, "Do you need help, Rowdy?"

Jack shook his head, "I'm fine, I'm going to put her to bed though."

He tightened his arm around her, carefully walking her towards the house, "Come on, pretty. Work with me here, I can't drag you the whole way."

She giggled in his arms, "I like it when you call me that."

Jack smirked, "Yeah?"

"Mhmm" Her eyes closing with drowsiness.

"I'll call you that more if you can use your feet up these steps." He cooed into her ear.

Y/N groaned, sloppily walking up the steps, "I thought you are a big hockey player, can't even carry me?"

"You can do it." He laughed at her drunken state.

"'m not even that drunk."

"Sure, princess."

Her head snapped up from its low position, "That's a new one!" She exclaimed.

Jack eventually managed to get her to her room, silently thanking the fact that she stayed on the ground floor or else he would have actually needed to carry her up the stairs. Y/N happily flopped onto her bed.

"You want to change into your pyjamas?" He asked her, pointing at her denim shorts, "I'm sure they're comfier than these."

"Mhm"

He searched her drawers before pulling out an oversized UMich hockey t-shirt, which he assumed belonged to Quinn or Luke originally along with loose shorts.

"Here, put these on." Jack told her, handing the clothes.

She took them from his hands, "Don't look!" She said to him, her voice nearing a shout.

"I won't, I won't." He reassured her, turning around to face the opposite wall.

He could hear her shuffling to change into the new clothes, hearing the sounds of her denim shorts contacting the hardwood floors.

"Okay, you can look." She sang out, he laughed as he spun around to see her curled up in a ball.

Jack smiled at her, "Goodnight, pretty."

Y/N sat up, "You're leaving?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I'm gonna go join the boys outside for a bit then head to bed."

"Can you stay?"

Jack paused. He looked at her, "You know I can't."

"Why not?"

"You know why."

"Is it because I'm drunk or is it because of our big fight?" She questioned, her head tilting, "Or is it because we used to have feelings for each other?"

Jack approached the side of her bed, pulling out a Liquid IV from her bedside drawer and putting it into her water bottle, "You're drunk, just make sure you drink this before you sleep."

"I'm not tired yet." She told him as he shook her bottle to mix the powder.

"Yes, you are." He chuckled softly, "Once you lay down, you're gonna pass out."

Y/N laid down for a brief moment and sat immediately back up, her body slightly swaying from being dizzy, "See? I didn't fall asleep."

"Y/N..." He sighed, handing her the bottle.

She took it from his hands and sipped it, "Can you stay until I finish this?"

Jack tilted his head back to look ash the ceiling, before gazing down at her, "Okay, fine."

A bright smile drew upon her face, his favourite. She shuffled to the other side of the bed and patted on the empty space next to her. He cautiously sat down, "So,"

"Do you know how pretty you are?" She asked him abruptly.

Blush rose on his face, tinting his cheeks and ears pink, "What?"

"I think you are so pretty," She told him before taking a drink from her bottle, "Like, the prettiest man I've ever seen."

"You're drunk."

"Drunk or not, I think you're pretty."

He smiled at her, seeing the softness in her features as she snuggled deeper into her bed, "Can we be friends again, Jack?"

"That's up to you." He said to her, voice delicate more than ever.

She hummed, "Yeah, we should be friends again."

"Go to sleep, princess." Jack mumbled, taking the empty bottle from her hands.

"Just sleep here." She whispered to him, seeing that he was already looking at her, "We're friends, you slept here before."

"I don't know, Y/N."

Y/N squinted her eyes at him, "Okay."

He laid on the bed next to her, waiting for her to fall asleep. Moments passed and her chest rose and fell as a consistent pace, light snores leaving her lips. Jack leaned over to pull the blanket over her curled up figure, his fingers carefully brushing the hair out of her face.

"Sweet dreams, pretty." He said softly, before placing a light kiss to her temple. Jack used all his strength to pull away from her bed and made his way to his own room. Despite wanting to comply to her wishes, he knew that he couldn't do that unless she was sober.

He laid in his bed, mentally cursing the lake house for bringing up old feelings for the girl. It seemed as though they never failed to come back whenever they were back at this place. Jack tossed and turned, waiting for sleep to envelop him.

The lake house was back in full swing at its normal environment. Y/N and Quinn spending their mornings cooking while discussing their shared experiences of college along with their thoughts on the book that they were reading together. Luke and her spending spare time hanging out in their rooms together, making up for lost time for when he left Michigan for New Jersey. Cole learning the meaning of different Taylor Swift songs from Y/N, along with the lore of the Folklore triangle. Trevor and her never failing at making fun memories and talking about his new girlfriend.

As for Jack and Y/N, they drew closer together like always. It was the magnetic pull they had between each other. It started off slow, the two having conversations on the boat together to him tackling her into the water for a swim. From sitting across each other at the couches as they drank their morning coffees to Y/N being cuddled into his side during movie nights. To bidding each other goodnight from the hallway, to him laying next to her in bed as they talked about what they imagined their futures to look like late into the night.

Y/N stood outside, dancing around with Luke to the music playing as the sun began to set. The rest throwing the football around and watching in amusement at the two.

"Bluesy, have you listened to the new Ella Langley album?" Luke asked her, pausing to change the music.

She nodded, "Yeah, it's pretty good."

He handed her the phone, "Pick the next song."

Y/N hesitated before selecting track 3 of the album, realizing what Luke was hinting her to do. The evening before, she was in his room explaining how this song was so similar to her first encounter with Jack. She also confessed to Luke how she felt her old feelings towards Jack returning, and the fact they mentioned to try a relationship when she completed school. Luke helped her weigh her pros and cons in the situation and ultimately, told her that he knew that his brother still had strong feelings towards her and she should shoot her shot. He reminded her that even though Jack hurt her in the past, Luke has never seen Jack so broken after realizing his mistakes. Jack was never one to pine after a girl, he only really treated Y/N like the way he did. With care and love, extra cautious of their surroundings when they were out. How Jack still knew her like the back of his hand, how his every move came with ease. How Jack nearly drove the long distance to her door when he came to terms of his mistake a few summers ago and was fully prepared to get down to his knees to apologize, if it weren't for Luke telling him to give the girl distance.

The song started to play loudly from the speaker, Luke twirling her around and making her laugh. Jack stepped away from playing football, somewhat confused at the song. One that he's never heard. He watched her smile and giggle next to his brother before Luke whispered something to her. He ran off into the house as Jack slowly approached her,

"Can I be your temporary dance partner while Lukey is gone?"

She nodded.

"What song is this?"

"A new one," the chorus started, "And I said baby, I think you're going to want to hear this." She dramatically lip sync-ed towards him.

His eyebrow raised and he smirked, taking a hold of her hand.

Y/N turned her head away from him before looking back, "Excuse me, you look like you love me. You look like you want me to come on home."

Jack's mouth opened agape at the lyrics, chills running down his spine as the memory of their first conversation flashed through his mind. He grinned at her as he spun her around, pulling her close so her back met his chest,

"And baby I don't blame you, for looking me up and down across this room," She hummed to the tune, "I'm drunk and I'm ready to leaving, and you look like you love me."

"Did you write this song?" He teased into her ear, she turned around to face him,

"No, but it's a crazy coincidence, right?"

Jack laughed, "Yeah, an insane one."

"Jack," She said softly, "Can we talk?"

He looked at her, "Of course."

She led him down towards the dock, a ways away from the rest so they could speak in private. His hand grazed over her bicep,

"You okay?" He asked her, playing with the sleeve of her t-shirt.

Y/N sighed, preparing herself, "Do you remember our conversation, years ago?"

"Depends," Jack told her, looking into her eyes that always seemed to sparkle, "Which one?"

"I asked if we could try... a relationship after I graduated and if the timing was right." She replied, twisting the ring around her finger.

He nodded, "Yeah, I remember that one. Why?"

She swallowed down the nerves building in her throat, "I told you that if we still had feelings for each other, then maybe it'd be worth a shot. And," She paused,

"And?" Jack repeated.

"And, I don't know if you feel the same, after everything...." She whispered, her eyes staring into his blue ones, "But, I love you Jack. Even after everything, I love you and I don't think I could ever stop."

His eyes softened, "I think I fell in love with you when you told me that crazy pick up line when we were seventeen, Y/N."

Y/N let out the breath that she had been holding, "So I was right?"

"With?"

"When I told you 'excuse me, you look like you love me'" She giggled, "My intuition must be amazing."

He laughed, stepping closer to her so their chests touched. His hand cupped her cheek while the other rested on her waist, "I guess so."

His fingers danced to her chin, tilted her face upwards where their faces were now millimetres apart, "Can I kiss you?"

"Please." She whispered, her eyes fluttered shut when Jack finally closed the gap between their lips. His soft lips meeting hers, molding into each other perfectly.

His hand on her waist squeezed her as her hands trailed up to tug lightly at the hair at the back of his neck. She sighed in pure happiness when they eventually pulled apart,

"You are perfect, beyond perfect." He mumbled against her lips, placing a gentle peck on them after, "I love you, Blue."

"I love you too, Jack."

"God, I can listen to you say that forever." He chuckled, pulling her into a tight embrace.

[sweeterthan13]

hey so can you please tell me your email address? i need to send you my THERAPY BILL

Shelter | Q. Hughes

summary: with another baby on the way, quinn is doing everything he can to stay afloat — caught between bug’s meltdowns and the emotional waves of a second pregnancy, he's trying to hold his family together. request: yes (sort of...) pairing: quinn hughes x reader content: dad!quinn, pregnant!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, bug cries, reader cries, he cries, everybody cries. word count: 7k ↪ main masterlist | dad!quinn masterlist

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Quinn feels like he’s walking a very thin line.

No — scratch that. He feels like he’s standing in the middle of a storm, caught between two colliding weather fronts, completely powerless against the way they crash into each other. There’s no predicting when it will hit, no safe place to take cover, no strategy to outrun it.

Because it’s never just you. And it’s never just Bug. It’s the both of you, moods shifting like the tide, always feeding into each other, never directed at one another but somehow always crashing straight into him.

And some days? Some days, it’s manageable.

Like today.

When he walks into the living room and finds you on the couch, arms crossed, a deep, dramatic sigh falling from your lips, staring blankly at the wall like it personally wronged you. Just minutes ago, he’d heard you laughing over something silly on TV — bright, loud laughter that made him think today might be one of the easier days. But now? Now you’re quiet again, moody and withdrawn, and the change is so swift he feels like he missed something critical.

"You okay?" he asks, careful, like he’s stepping around a landmine.

"Fine," you reply clipped.

He exhales, tilting his head.

"You sure?"

You don’t answer immediately, just sigh again, heavier this time, shifting like even sitting is exhausting.

"I’m just… tired."

Quinn waits, giving you space to say more, but you don’t. Just stare at the ceiling like it holds all the answers, hands resting on the curve of your bump, absently rubbing in slow, mindless circles like your mind is somewhere far away, somewhere he can’t quite reach.

"Did something happen?" he tries again, gentler this time.

Your head shifts in a faint shake, lips pressed tight as if the words are there but you don’t have the energy to form them.

"No. Nothing. I just…" You trail off with another sigh, irritation flickering behind your eyes. "Forget it."

And he recognises it then — the way you start to pull inward, the subtle shift in your tone, the way your sentences taper off, unfinished. He feels it in his chest, the first quiet gust of wind signalling the storm that’s just starting to build.

He barely has time to process it before, across the room, Bug — who had been happily colouring only seconds ago — lets out a huff, flopping onto her stomach.

Quinn watches as she sprawls out, face smushed against the floor, limbs star fished, exhaling another deep, woe-is-me sigh.

He fights the urge to laugh, because God, you really are the same.

"You okay, Buggy?" he asks, already bracing himself.

She peeks up at him with one eye, just barely, like the sheer force of her emotions is physically weighing her down.

"No."

A storm is imminent. He can feel it.

Quinn inhales slowly. "Wanna tell me why?"

Bug turns her head to the side, cheek squished against the rug, and gives him the saddest little shake of her head.

"No."

Quinn flicks his gaze back to you. You’re staring at Bug like she just spoke your soul into existence.

"You don’t know why either, do you?" he asks, lips twitching just slightly.

You meet his eyes, brows furrowing.

"I don’t wanna talk about it," you mumble.

Quinn presses his lips together, nods once. Okay.

Sometimes, the only way to get through a storm is to wait it out. Quinn knows that some tempers can’t be soothed with logic, some moods can’t be unraveled with words. Some storms, like this one, don’t need him to fight against them. They just need him to stand in the middle of it and let it rage.

So he doesn’t ask again. Doesn’t try to pry an answer out of either of you. Doesn’t try to fix it, even though every instinct in his body tells him he should. Instead, he does the only thing he can do.

He moves.

Crosses the room, drops onto the couch beside you with a quiet oof, and stretches an arm across the back, fingers grazing your shoulder. He doesn’t pull, doesn’t press, doesn’t try to force the storm to settle. Just makes room. Just waits.

You sigh, slow and heavy, but you shift, curling into him, cheek pressing against his chest, body melting into his warmth like the eye of the storm finally found its way to you. His arm drops, wrapping around you, rubbing slow, absent circles against your arm.

Then he looks at Bug. She’s still on the floor, cheek smushed against the rug, eyes peeking up at him, waiting.

He pats the cushion beside him.

“C’mere, Buggy.”

She sniffs, pushing herself up onto wobbly little arms, dragging herself over like she’s trudging through the worst day of her life. Quinn watches as she climbs up, tucking herself into his other side, curling in small and warm, sighing just like you had.

And just like that, the storm settles.

No thunder. No more crashing waves. Just quiet, the kind that lingers in the air after the worst of it has passed. The kind that feels a little fragile, like it could roll back in with the right gust of wind, but for now, in this moment, there is peace.

Bug sniffles again. “I was sad, daddy.”

Quinn presses a kiss to the top of her head, his voice quiet, steady.

“That’s okay, Bugs. Some days are just like that.”

You let out a small, tired laugh against his chest, and it’s not much, but it’s enough.

Because sometimes, you don’t need to outrun the storm.

You just need to wait it out together.

But other days? It’s chaos.

It’s stepping into the whirlwind the second he wakes up — Bug already teetering on the edge of a meltdown before breakfast, hair tangled and pyjamas half on, her voice pitching high because you poured the cereal in the wrong bowl. Again.

You’re standing at the counter, unmoved, hand clenched around a spoon, your jaw tight and eyes glazed like you’ve already lived an entire day before the clock reaches seven o'clock.

“I told you,” Bug sobs, pushing the offending bowl away from her, “I want the pink one.”

“I know,” you mutter, fatigued. “But the pink one’s in the dishwasher, baby.”

And that’s it. That’s all it takes.

She wails again, louder and sharper, face scrunching as tears roll hot down her cheeks and Quinn barely has time to step in, swooping her up before she hurls the spoon across the room.

It’s Quinn, caught in the middle. Again. It’s the only place he seems to exist lately. Wedged between tantrums and tension, between Bug’s tears and your silence, between holding it all up and watching it all fall apart anyway.

It’s watching Bug melt down in his arms, her tiny body wracked with sobs, while over his shoulder, you stand by the counter, wiping at your eyes, trying not to let him see you falling apart, too.

It’s the exhaustion weighing on his shoulders, the constant push and pull, the feeling that no matter how fast he moves, no matter how hard he tries, he’s always one step behind.

It’s knowing he has to be the steady one — has to be patient with Bug, has to be gentle with you, has to keep everything from tipping over. It’s feeling like every time he soothes one storm, another is already rolling in, relentless, giving him no time to breathe before he’s pulled under again.

And then, just when he thinks he has a handle on it —

It’s Bug sobbing before preschool, her little arms locked tight around his body, shaking as she begs him "please don’t go, daddy. I won’t see you when I get home."

And that’s not like her.

Bug has always been so good about goodbyes, so easy about his road trips, her little voice always chirping “see you soon, daddy! Win lots!” without a second thought. But today? Today, she’s wrecked. And so are you.

You’re standing by the door, rubbing your belly, looking just as lost as she does, eyes misty, voice barely above a whisper as you murmur, "I don’t know what’s wrong. She never does this."

Quinn exhales, slow and tight, arms still wrapped around Bug’s tiny frame, his chest rising and falling just a little too fast. His grip is firm, steady, but inside, he feels anything but. His pulse is hammering, heartbeat drumming against his ribs like a warning, like he’s already bracing for impact.

“Yeah… I know.” He doesn’t know what else to say. Doesn’t have an answer that will make this easier.

“Maybe she’s just having a rough morning.” But the way you say it — it’s not convincing, not even to yourself.

Quinn’s jaw tightens. His shoulders feel like they’re carrying a weight he can’t shake, like every second is stretching longer, heavier, pressing in on all sides.

“Maybe.” But he doesn’t believe it either.

Because it’s not just Bug. It’s you, too.

You, looking at him like you need him to fix it, like you need some kind of reassurance that this is just a phase, that this is just passing rain, that this isn’t something bigger. And he wants to. He wants to promise you that. But the words catch in his throat, swallowed by the weight of it all. Because it’s been weeks of this — Bug clinging, unraveling, her emotions rolling in like crashing waves. And you, right there beside her, all fraying nerves and overwhelmed tears, feeding off each other, amplifying the storm.

Quinn takes a breath, exhales through his nose, and turns back to Bug.

"Bug, baby, you’ll have so much fun at school," he tries, smoothing a hand over her hair, pushing damp strands away from her tear-streaked face. "You love preschool, remember?"

"Not today!" she wails, curling into his chest, fingers fisting his hoodie like she’s trying to anchor herself to him. "I wanna stay with you."

And God, that one hits hard.

Because Quinn wants to stay. Wants to pick her up and tuck her into his side and tell her "okay, Bug, you can stay with me today." Wants to call the team, push his flight back a few more hours, push the world aside for just a little longer.

But he can’t.

And you know he can’t, but you need something from him, too. You’re still standing by the door, trying to steady yourself, trying to be the strong one even though your eyes are glassy, even though you look seconds away from breaking down yourself.

The pressure is building. He feels it in the silence stretching between you, in the weight of Bug pressing against his chest, in the way your fingers rub absently at the curve of your belly, steadying yourself, like you’re waiting for him to do the same.

He wants to be there for both of you, wants to hold Bug tighter, press a kiss to your forehead, tell you "it’s okay. You’ve got this. She’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. We’ll be fine." But it’s too much at once. The wind is howling, the waves are rising, and he feels stretched thin trying to brace himself against the force of it all.

But he knows you need him to go. You need him to walk out before you start crying, before it turns into a full meltdown that none of you will come back from. You need him to rip off the bandaid before Bug convinces herself he’s staying, before she starts believing that if she holds on just a little tighter, just a little longer, he won’t leave at all.

So he sighs, pressing a lingering kiss to Bug’s temple before gently, carefully, peeling her off of him.

"I love you, Bugs. I’ll be back soon soon, okay?"

She doesn’t answer. Just hiccups, wiping her face on her sleeve, sniffling as you pull her into your arms.

And then your eyes meet his over the top of her head, full of something raw and helpless, like you don’t know what to do with all the emotion swirling in the room. Like you’re begging him for an answer, for reassurance, for something.

And God, leaving you like this hurts.

It’s not an easy exit, and it’s not clean. He has to pry himself away from it, has to force himself out the door, has to resist the pull of turning around and staying just a little longer.

Because it doesn't stop at Bug. Leaving her is always hard, but leaving you — like this, lost and overwhelmed, feeling it all so deeply — cuts deeper every time.

Because lately, it’s you who worries him most.

You, so off-kilter, so unlike yourself, so overwhelmed by everything that’s changing. And it’s not like when you were pregnant with Bug — back then, it was just you and him, just the two of you navigating the unknown together with late-night name lists and soft hands over your belly when she kicked. The days were slower. There was room to breathe. But now? Now there’s Bug and her big emotions to balance — her meltdowns, her sudden clinginess, the way she seems to unravel right alongside you — and you’re drowning in it.

You’ve been unraveling for weeks, worn thin by exhaustion, by hormones that send you swinging from teary to irritable to brittle in a breath. They crash into you like waves you don't see coming. One minute you’re fine, steady on your feet, the next you’re barely holding it together, blinking back tears at the sink while Bug wails over something small, something that shouldn’t matter.

And Quinn — Quinn is just trying to keep up. Trying to be your anchor, trying to be steady, but still, somehow, always a step behind, caught between your storm and Bug’s, trying to soothe one without making the other worse.

And maybe that’s the hardest part.

The fact that Quinn can’t fix it, and it’s tearing him apart.

He can’t figure out what you need. How to make this easier for you. How to take even a fraction of the weight off your shoulders when you won’t let him shoulder it with you.

Because you don’t tell him. Not like you used to.

You let the silence stretch, let the weight of it settle between you instead of reaching for him, instead of saying "this is hard, I need you, I don’t know how to do this." And Quinn would give anything to hear that. To hear something. Because he’s trying so hard but he doesn’t know what to do when you won’t let him in.

And the space between you keeps growing, widening like the tide pulling back before the crash. Conversations have turned clipped, exhaustion settling in too deep for either of you to bridge the space.

He reaches for you in bed, fingertips skimming your back, but you turn away, not because you don’t want him, but because you don’t even know where to begin. He doesn’t say anything. Just stills behind you. Leaves his hand hovering there for a beat too long before slowly withdrawing, settling back into the sheets like maybe if he doesn’t move too much, the space between you won’t feel so wide.

So the pressure keeps mounting, thickening the air, pressing down on Quinn from all sides. He’s drowning in it, desperate to fix it, to ease the weight crushing both of you, to be the one who steadies the ship before it all capsizes.

And then, the lightning strike.

The morning when you snap.

When he reaches past you for a coffee mug, presses a sleepy kiss to your temple, murmurs a soft "g’morning, baby," and you recoil, the sharpness in your voice splitting the air like a crack of thunder.

"Quinn, can you just—"

It’s too sharp, too sudden, too much for something so simple.

His hand pauses on the cabinet.

You inhale sharply, eyes squeezing shut like you already regret it, like you already hate yourself for it, but it’s too late. It’s already hanging heavy in the air, thick and suffocating.

He exhales slowly. Measured. Careful. Like he’s trying to track a storm without a radar, trying to trace the spark that lit the fuse but the truth is, he has no idea what just happened.

"What?" he asks, trying so hard to keep his voice neutral. "What did I do?"

"Nothing," you mumble, voice tight. "You didn’t — just forget it."

He can’t forget it, and he also knows better than to push when you’re like this, wound tight, brittle around the edges, balancing on the precipice of frustration and exhaustion and something you haven’t quite named yet. You’re a live wire in bare hands.

But, still, the response grates. Not because you’re upset — he can handle that. Not the weariness in your eyes — he knows it well.

It’s the silence that follows. The wall that goes up. The way you don’t let him in. The way you won’t let him shoulder even the smallest fraction of whatever’s sitting so heavy on you.

He exhales slowly, steadying himself, trying to meet you where you are.

"Baby," he tries again, softer this time.

You stand there, tense, fingers tightening around the fabric of your shirt, staring somewhere past him like if you don’t acknowledge the moment, maybe it won’t settle between you like all the others have lately. Like another weight added to the pile.

And maybe that’s what gets to him the most.

Not the sharpness in your voice, not even the exhaustion clinging to your features — understands all of that. But this. The distance. The way you don’t talk to him like you used to, don’t let him in, don’t give him anything to work with. It’s like watching a door slowly close, inch by inch, and he’s still standing on the other side, waiting, hoping, reaching for someone who used to reach back.

“Jesus,” he mutters. “Can you just talk to me?”

It comes out rougher than he means it to, frustration bleeding through the exhaustion, through the endless cycle of tiptoeing around this, around you. Around the way things have been unraveling, thread by thread, while he’s been trying so damn hard to keep the house from splitting at the seams.

And for a second, the silence that follows feels deafening.

Like thunder, rolling in just after the strike.

You press your lips together, your breath coming a little too fast, a little too uneven, and for a second, he thinks — maybe. Maybe this is where the storm breaks. Maybe this is where you finally let it all out, finally let him in.

But then, finally, barely above a whisper, "I don’t wanna fight."

And it’s not a fight. Not yet. But the air is thick with something unresolved, the kind of tension that settles heavy in the walls, in the space between you, in the quiet that should be comfortable but isn’t.

Quinn stands there in the middle of the kitchen, hands braced on the counter, chest tight, heart hammering.

Because this isn’t new. It’s never just one thing — it’s every moment that’s been pushed aside with a quiet “not now,” every heavy breath exchanged across the dinner table, every look that lingers too long but says nothing at all. It’s the soft sighs, the brittle “I’m fine,” the way everything keeps getting postponed — later, tomorrow, when there’s time.

Only there’s never time. Just distance. Just silence dressed as survival.

But it doesn’t stay like this. Not for much longer.

Because Quinn’s never been the kind of man to let storms rage unchecked. Never been the type to let the space between you stretch too wide, to let things fester and rot in the silence.

Except this time, he did.

This time, he let it build for weeks. Figured you needed space. Figured, like always, you’d come to him when you were ready. He didn’t want to push, didn’t want to risk being one more weight pressing down on you — afraid that if he reached too soon, too hard, you’d only pull further away.

So he waited.

And waited.

But you haven’t come.

And this storm? It hasn’t passed.

It’s lingered. A low-pressure system that settled over your home like a weight. It crept in quietly, in the stillness after long days, in the hush of the night when Bug’s cries echoed down the hall and neither of you moved fast enough. It’s soaked into everything, in the silence between you, in the quiet way you move around each other like you’re trying not to stir the air, like even a whisper might trigger the downpour.

It’s in the sighs you don’t explain, in the moments where his hand reaches for yours and only grazes your sleeve. In the way your shoulders curve inward like you’re trying to weather it alone. It’s there in the space between what you need and what he can’t seem to figure out how to give — lightning just waiting for a place to strike.

And Quinn is trying. He really is. He's trying to be steady. Trying to hold the line. He tells himself it’s just a phase, just exhaustion, just the weight of everything pressing down. That you need space. That you’ll come to him, like you always have, when the fog lifts and the words come easier.

Because sometimes, that’s what you needed. Back then, when it was just the two of you, when emotions swelled and you needed room to breathe, to process, to untangle yourself from whatever had you feeling off-kilter, space was good. A quiet moment alone, time to let the frustration settle, to come back to each other with clear heads and soft apologies — it worked. It made sense.

But it’s different now.

Now, space feels like distance, and distance feels like a crack waiting to split wide open. Now, there’s Bug and her big emotions. Now, there’s you, carrying another baby, carrying the weight of change, carrying all the moments he’s missing when he’s away. Now, when you pull away, it doesn’t feel like breathing room — it feels like a warning sign.

And every day that passes without addressing it, every night spent in silence, every conversation left unfinished, makes it feel less like weather and more like climate.

So tonight, when he hears the creak of your footsteps down the hall, hears the soft click of the bedroom door closing, he doesn’t wait. Doesn’t tell himself you need more time. Doesn’t lie to himself about the sky clearing.

He follows.

Quietly, carefully, he pads down the hall and pushes the door open, stepping into the thick of it, into the eye of the storm. He settles carefully onto the mattress beside you, leaving space — giving you space to speak, to move closer, to do anything.

But you don’t.

You just stare at your hands in your lap, fingers curling into the fabric of your shorts, and Quinn watches the way your shoulders rise and fall, notices the tension gathering like you’re bracing for something.

He exhales softly, rubbing a tired hand along his jaw.

"I'm trying," he murmurs, finally breaking the silence.

Your gaze flicks up, lips parting slightly, your chest tightening.

"I swear, I am," he says, quieter now. "I know Bug has been a lot, and your hormones, and the stress, and I know you’re just trying to get through it." His voice wavers for the first time, breath catching slightly as he drags a hand down his face, fingers gripping at his knee when they settle in his lap. "But I need you to talk to me. I don’t know how to help if you won’t let me in. If you keep pretending you’re fine when you’re not."

His voice isn’t sharp. It's not angry. It's just... tired. Not in the way he always is after road trips, after back-to-backs, after late nights followed by early morning skates — but in that bone-deep, heavy way that comes from holding too much for too long.

"I just—" He exhales sharply, tilting his head back against the headboard, dragging a shaky breath into his lungs. "I feel like I don’t know how to make this easier, how to fix it. I don’t know what to do anymore. How to help you, how to help Bug."

Your throat tightens, guilt pressing hard against your ribs.

"Quinn—"

"It’s killing me." His voice breaks over the words, and your heart clenches, because Quinn doesn’t break. Not like this. "I feel like I’m watching you fall apart, watching Bug fall apart, and I can’t—”

He stops abruptly, pressing the heels of his palms over his eyes, shoulders curling inward, like if he doesn’t he’ll completely unravel. His breath is heavy, chest rising and falling too fast, and then you hear it — a sound you’ve rarely heard from him, quiet and choked, a sob he can’t quite swallow down.

"I feel like I'm failing you both."

It slips out before he can stop it, before he can soften it into something easier to hear, and as soon as it’s in the air, it lingers — sharp, cutting. And God, you feel it. Feel it settle deep in your chest, feel the way it steals the breath from your lungs.

Because he’s never said something like that before. Not like this. Not with tears streaking silently down his cheeks, eyes squeezed shut as if he’s ashamed of it. Not in a voice that sounds like it’s been scraped raw, like the words cost him something just to say.

Quinn’s never been one to unravel. He’s quiet by nature, steady in the way he moves through the world. He carries things inward, processes slowly. He’s always been careful with his words, measured with his emotions — not cold, never that, but composed. Grounded. He doesn’t let things boil over. Doesn’t let them spill.

And this? It isn’t something he does. Not because he’s trying to be strong, but because he’s always been wired to endure. To hold it together. To keep going, even when it hurts.

Your hand moves on instinct, settling against his knee, desperate to ground him, to pull him back before he sinks too deep.

"Quinn," Your voice wavers and you barely get his name out before the weight of it all crashes over you.

His shoulders rise and fall with another sharp inhale, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t look at you. Just keeps pressing his palms into his eyes like he’s holding himself together by sheer force of will, fighting to regain control, fighting to hold onto whatever strength he thinks he still needs to have.

And that — that — is what undoes you.

"Baby, hey," you whisper, barely above a breath. "Look at me."

For a moment, you think he won’t. That he can’t. That if he does, if he meets your gaze, if he lets you see all of it, he might actually break.

But then, slowly, he drops his hands.

And when he looks at you, really looks at you — your heart shatters.

His eyes are glassy, jaw tight, lashes damp with tears, his expression so raw it knocks the breath right out of you. He swallows hard, shakes his head like he’s trying to clear it, but there’s no taking it back now. No shoving it back down.

He’s unraveling, and you can see it. See the way he’s been holding too much, how it’s been slowly crushing him, how he’s been trying so hard to keep everything together while you’ve been falling apart. See the way it’s eating at him. The guilt, the helplessness, the constant push and pull of trying to keep up with you and Bug while barely keeping himself above water.

And God, it wrecks you.

You shift without thinking, curling into his side, arms wrapping around his middle, pressing your cheek to his shoulder like you’re trying to hold him together with your whole body. And for a moment, he doesn’t move. Just sits there, stiff, like he’s not sure he’s allowed to fall apart, not sure if he should.

But then he exhales, shaky and broken, and his arms come around you. He pulls you closer, pulls you into his lap, like if he holds you tight enough, close enough, maybe the ground won’t feel like it’s giving way beneath him.

His face finds your shoulder, burying into the curve of your neck, and his whole body shudders with the force of the breath he lets out.

"You could never fail me," you whisper, voice barely holding steady. Your fingers slide into his hair, slow and gentle, nails brushing lightly along his scalp, trying to soothe, trying to settle.

Then your hands slide down to cradle his face, thumbs brushing along the sharp line of his jaw, coaxing him to lift his head and look at you. For a second, he resists — eyes squeeze shut again like he’s bracing himself, like he’s afraid of what he’ll see in your face. But when they open, you make sure you make sure he finds only calm. Only love.

"I mean it," you whisper. "You’ve never let us down. Not once. Not me, not Bug. You are everything we need, Quinn."

A sharp breath rushes out of him, like he’s been holding it in for weeks.

You press your lips to his temple, slow and aching, like an apology wrapped in affection. I’m sorry you ever felt that way. Sorry for the silence, for the way you shut him out, for every time he reached for you and found nothing to hold onto.

You linger there, breathing him in, hoping it says what you haven’t found the words for. That you’re still here. That you never meant to leave him standing in the storm alone. That you love him, more than you’ve said lately.

And maybe he hears it. Maybe he feels it in the way you hold him now, tighter than you have in weeks. Because his hands tighten too, curling into your back, tethering himself to you. And when he exhales, it’s steadier. Softer. A little less like the weight of everything is his to carry alone.

"It’s just… different this time," he murmurs after a moment, voice rough at the edges like he’s been trying to make sense of it for weeks but still hasn’t found the words. "It wasn’t like this with Bug. You weren’t—" He stops himself, jaw tightening. "I don’t mean—"

"I know," you whisper.

Because you do. He’s not blaming you. He’s not making this your fault. He’s just trying to make sense of it the same way you are.

“I don’t mean that in a bad way,” he adds quickly, tone softening immediately. “I just… I don’t know. You were still tired and emotional, sure, but we were —” He trails off, mouth twisting like the memory stings a little. “Happier, I think.”

You don’t say anything. Just nuzzle closer, biting your bottom lip. Guilt pressing in.

“We used to fall asleep on the couch talking about names. You’d make me drop everything when Bug kicked just to feel her. And now —” He breaks off, voice tightening. He swallows hard. “And now I walk through the door, I don’t know what version of you I'm coming home to. I don’t know if I should talk or keep quiet. I don’t even know if you want me here sometimes."

The words sting, and not because they’re unfair. But because they’re true.

You inch closer, guilt already starting to burn at your chest. Your nose finds the scruff of his cheek, breath catching as you press into him, barely touching but needing to be closer.

“I always want you here.”

He exhales, a shaky breath against your ear.

“It doesn’t feel like it,” he murmurs, voice brittle and splintering at the edges.

And the silence that follows is brutal — thick and sharp, like standing in the wreckage of something you didn’t mean to break.

His thumb moves in slow, steady circles against your back, like he’s trying to settle a tempest he can’t see but knows is there.

And all you can do is lean in, pressing a kiss to his jaw, eyes shut tight — like maybe, just maybe, if you hold him close enough, he’ll feel everything you have yet to say out loud.

Your voice comes out small, barely more than a whisper. “I know I haven’t been easy, and I'm—”

"You don’t have to be," he cuts in, gently but firmly, the words spilling out before you can finish. "I just need you to let me in," he murmurs, voice low, unwavering.

His arms tighten around you, solid and warm, like he’s trying to anchor you to him, trying to keep the distance from creeping back in.

"I don’t care if you’re mad, or sad, or exhausted, or don’t even know what you’re feeling. I can handle all of it — I want to handle all of it. To be in it with you. But don’t—" his breath catches, and he presses his forehead to your temple, exhaling slow. "Don’t shut me out. Don’t act like I’m just another thing to manage. Like I’m something else making this harder."

His words land heavy, settling in the space that’s grown too wide these past few weeks. And maybe that’s what stings the most — how much truth there is in them.

You close your eyes, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, because he’s right. That's exactly what you have been doing.

You have shut him out. You’ve held him at arm’s length, convincing yourself it was easier this way. Because some days, it was simpler to let the distance sit between you, easier to let the weight of it build instead of unpacking it, to let the storm build rather than admit how much you’re struggling beneath it.

"I’m sorry," you whisper, voice small, uneven, barely holding together at the seams.

Quinn shakes his head instantly, shifting beneath you, like the words sting more than they should.

"That’s not—" he exhales sharply, pressing his palm against his forehead, shaking his head before wrapping his arms more securely around you. "That’s not what I want, baby. You don't have to apologise."

His chest rises and falls against yours, breath warm against your hair. His voice is quieter when he speaks again, rough at the edges like it’s been sitting heavy in his throat for too long.

"I just needed to say it out loud," he murmurs. "To you. That this is a lot. And that I'm... I’m struggling too."

Hearing it like this, quiet and raw, knocks the air from your lungs.

And now the guilt crashes over you like a rogue wave, pulling you under before you have time to brace for it. It presses heavy, suffocating, settling in the spaces between all the ways you let the silence stretch too far, let the exhaustion dictate your words, where you let the distance grow instead of reaching for him.

Because God, you’ve felt alone these past few weeks — adrift, overwhelmed, buried under exhaustion and the hormones you can't control, and Bug’s big emotions — but you never stopped to think that maybe he has too. That maybe, while you’ve been sinking, he’s been out in the storm, fighting to keep you all afloat, barely keeping his own head above water.

And now, hearing him admit it — hearing him tell you just how worn thin he really is — makes everything you overlooked painfully clear. You knew, in some distant way, that Quinn was tired. But you hadn’t let yourself see it fully. You hadn’t noticed how carefully he'd wrapped himself in quiet; how the calm he wore wasn't peace, but exhaustion. How close he'd come to breaking, waiting quietly for you to see it.

The ache triples, guilt sharp and bitter as your fingers twist into his shirt before you can stop them, gripping tight like an anchor, like you can hold him here, hold him up, the way he’s been trying to do for you.

Your throat tightens as you whisper, "I should’ve seen it."

Quinn shakes his head immediately, his arms flexing around you, one hand splaying wide against the small of your back, the other slipping up to cradle the back of your head. His thumb brushes slow, soothing strokes against your hair like he’s trying to keep the wind from howling, steadying the sails before the storm hits. This is him trying to keep you from turning inward, from spiralling into blame.

"Baby," he exhales, tipping his forehead against yours. "Don’t."

But how can you not?

How can you, when you feel his breath shake against your skin? When he’s been carrying all of this alone, when you’ve been so wrapped up in your own unraveling that you never saw him fraying too? When it finally hits you that every sleepless night, every tantrum soothed, every moment spent steadying you and Bug, he was never steady himself?

You can’t help it. Because now, the guilt is a storm of its own, building too fast, too heavy to hold back.

Quinn feels it before he even sees it.

The shift. The way your breath catches, stutters, like the wind just changed direction, gathering force. The way your shoulders tense, then tremble, like the weight of the storm pressing against you is too much to hold back.

And he knows.

Knows the way your body reacts before the downpour. Knows the way your fingers tighten their grip — on fabric, on him, on anything solid — when you’re trying to hold yourself together. Knows the way your chest rises too fast, the way your throat works through a swallow that doesn’t quite make it past the lump sitting heavy there.

Knows the warning signs.

Because he’s seen your storms before. He’s weathered them, stood at the eye of them, braced against them, held you through them. And now, as the first crack of thunder rolls through your body — a tiny, barely there inhale that catches in your throat — he knows another one is coming.

And he doesn’t want that for you.

"Baby," he whispers again and and it’s not more a pet name — it’s a plea. It's a a quiet, desperate thing, frayed at the edges. Please don’t go there. Please don’t blame yourself. Please don’t break because of me.

His forehead stays pressed to yours, hands tightening around you.

But you just squeeze your eyes shut, pressing yourself closer, and that’s when he really feels it. The tiny shake of your shoulders, the uneven rise and fall of your chest, the way your body curls inward, instinctively seeking shelter.

Your voice comes out ragged. "I should've known. I was so wrapped up in myself that I didn't—"

"I know," he murmurs softly, cutting through your words. And it’s not a dig, not an accusation, just fact. Just something true between you.

And that hurts worse.

Because you never saw it clearly enough. Because he never told you. Because you never asked. Because you’ve both been drowning in separate storms, hands outstretched, but never quite finding each other.

His hand slips lower, sliding over your back, pulling you in until there’s nothing left between you but warmth and the quiet understanding that you’re in this together. That you should’ve been in this together all along.

"What do you need?" His voice is softer now, lips brushing against your hair, the question almost hesitant — like he’s afraid you’ll shut him out again.

You shake your head, barely a movement, barely enough to count, but it’s there.

"Just you."

And God, that nearly knocks him over.

Because he can do that.

He can be that.

He can be yours. He is yours.

He presses a lingering kiss to your temple, then another to your cheek, and a final one just beneath your jaw, his breath warm against your skin. His fingers slip beneath the hem of your hoodie, pressing firm and steady against your skin, like he’s making a promise without saying a word.

When your next breath shudders through you, breaking against his collarbone, Quinn just holds on tighter.

"I’ve got you," he murmurs.

You don’t say anything, just hold onto him, letting the quiet settle between you, letting the steady rhythm of his breathing pull you back, slow and measured, like waves finally lapping at the shore instead of crashing against it. Like the first stillness after days of wind.

And then, before the weight of everything can creep back in, Quinn exhales, deep and slow, his chest rising and falling in sync with yours.

"We’re okay," he murmurs, pressing his lips to your hair, the warmth of his breath sinking into your skin. "We’re gonna be okay."

And for the first time in weeks, you believe him.

Then he shifts, nose nudging at your neck as he tucks himself in closer, like he’s been aching for this, for you. His arms tighten, drawing you in like he’s gathering something precious, something fragile that he almost lost. You feel it in the way his body softens against yours, shoulders finally beginning to uncoil.

Then, his breath evens out, slower, like he’s finally letting himself rest, and it feels like something cracking open and being put back together all in the same moment. Like all the weight you've both been carrying is finally lifting, piece by piece, no longer just his and no longer just yours to bear.

Like after weeks of drifting in separate storms, you’ve finally found your way back to the same shore, the waves settling, the worst of it behind you.

[softsunnyy]

unhealthy obsession, he enters your bedroom, you feel like you're going crazy (pretty close), masturbation, obsessive and dirty thoughts. This is pure obsessive without much sense, but i like to think about how a simple crush can lead two people to desire each other in this way 🚨🚨 kinda pt.2?

i keep thinking about Quinn, about his obsession with you, which is completely mutual. And i think about the looks, the thoughts, how both of them want to be patient, but i feel like it won't take long, because even though Quinn is normally a patient man, when it comes to you, his world crumbles, and he begins to become irrational, impulsive, and destructive. The desire to possess you is a thousand times stronger than his conscience demanding control.

he easily figures out how to break into your bedroom, which is alarming, but he'll behave himself; he only does it to learn more about you, to know how to approach you properly.

he's also memorized your schedule, so don't be surprised by the number of hours he spends in your room, reading your books, learning your tastes, leaving his scent in every part of the place, so that when you arrive, you feel like you're going crazy, as it has been doing for the past few weeks.

and so it is, your mind becoming more and more dangerous; more and more lost. You feel your pillow smell like him, and you use it to rub your soaked pussy, getting even as if that will erase his face from your mind. You see your books moved, and when you look through them you see that the most intense pages are marked clumsily, as if someone wanted to give you a message.

and today? today you saw him in a game, and for a moment, when his eyes fell on you just after he scored a goal, you felt that maybe you weren't completely crazy. Although perhaps that should have been the sign that you were about to lose your mind, letting yourself be hunted by him.

you began to question if he had something to do with it, if he knows.

oh god, he definitely knows.

for some reason, it doesn't alarm you, it doesn't embarrass you, but rather it makes you feel excited. The idea of ​​being chased, of him obsessing over you as much as you are over him drives you crazy, and you want it to be true. You want him to know that you know his secret, so you deliberately start putting on a show for him, and you leave those panties you wore that day on your bed, still stained, smelling of your arousal caused by him and his eyes, his hands, his presence.

so when Quinn comes back in he's clearly shocked, and his brain is melting thinking about the possibilities.

this has to be on purpose, right? this has to be, because you've surely realized it already, because you surely want him to do something about it.

and even if it was hasty, even if it was impulsive and idiotic, he knows you want him, and he knows you're smart, that you must be putting the pieces together and trying not to go really crazy, convincing yourself that he's really entering your safe place. So he decides to act, lying down on your bed like all the other times, but stripping off his pants and underwear, freeing his cock, which was slowly waking up to what he was about to do.

his little whore, his sweet and pretty girl, this was intentional, he knows it. He's learned to read you, to know what you like, how you think.

he wrapped your panties around his cock and began to masturbate while remembering how beautiful you looked at the game, watching him, cheering for him and only him. His hand moves faster when he remembers your excited face when he looked at you, when he gave you hope, and he groans, blinded by pleasure, when he remembers that today you were a little braver, and you wore that jersey they gave to fans with each player's number on it.

you were obviously wearing his, and just thinking about it makes him feel like he might come, so he moves his hand hard, squeezing, trying to imagine how good it must feel to push inside you, forcing his way between your walls, which must surely be tight, waiting for him, but soaked enough to make it easy to slide in.

he can imagine your moans, the way the drool stains your chin and your eyes roll white, taking his entire cock and begging him to be gentler, to go slower, so that in the end he'll do the exact opposite, torturing you, melting your brain, killing any coherent thought, making you only want him.

he doesn't even realize the moment he cums, staining your panties with his fluids. He keeps going, overstimulating himself, making his body tremble as he keeps thinking about you, about everything he can do to you, all the ways he can have you.

he doesn't even stop to think that his plan was ruined, that he skipped steps he can't erase now, because with this, you'll know everything, and closeness will be inevitable.

it's when he cums a second time that he reacts, and with some panic, he leaves the scene, leaving your stained and soaked panties on your pillow. The damage is done.

however, when you return to your room and find the scene, you smile, thinking about the camera you just bought, and the plan you want to carry out. You can play too, and you will. But now you must take care of your needs, so you take your panties, disgustingly licking the remnants of his cum, tasting it. And you can't even be mad at him for ruining your panties, because doing so only gave you the green light to start what you wanted so badly.

so the next time he went to your room, he found another gift. This time it was a memory card from a camera lying next to it. When he inserted it, he found a marvel. It was a video of you, touching yourself, moaning for him, and showing him how your fingers thrust in and out of your hole, moving faster and faster as your face twists in an expression of pure pleasure.

he starts touching himself through his clothes, but everything in his mind shuts down when he hears it. You moaned his name at the very moment you came, glancing briefly at the camera, giving him the full show.

oh, what did you do?

now he'll have to wait for you, sitting on your bed, holding back the urge to touch himself, but replaying the video, driving himself crazy, wishing you'd walk through that door so he could destroy you and stop playing games.

his little hunt is about to end, but he's not mad about it.

you, on the other hand, need to prepare yourself, because he won't have mercy on you, not after that.

[kawhh]

i’ve had a horribly bad week and i just need dark quinn to tell me that i don’t need anything else because it’s obviously making me upset and he’s all i need

(this is some sort of coping mechanism)

May or may not be sneaking this in. My ask answering blurb MIA time is almost over. This might be more than you wanted, but my brain went here.

Warnings: he's not exactly asking permission to keep you from stress. Pretending to be you, thought threats about locking you in a room.

I feel like he'd be 100% on a mission to stop every problem for you, to make you see sense when it comes to fully relying on him.

He's been giving you slack, letting you do everything you want to do. He hasn't complained about you looking after yourself. Hasn't complained about you wanting to cook for yourself, spending time by yourself, stressing yourself out.

He's kept his mouth shut not wanting to push you, but he's truly had enough.

You're crashing and burning in front of his eyes and he refuses to stay on the sidelines any longer. You need a stricter hand guiding you. You need someone to stop everything. You need to be able to turn your mind off.

He's taking control of everything immediately. He doesn't care to hear any protests, isn't interested in arguing with you. If you could've fixed it yourself, you would've.

No matter how small the task is, he's doing it. He's not afraid to force you either. Some physical restraining encouragement if you don't let him.

Any responsibility you have? He's forcing you to stop for a week. Texting on behalf of you, emails, anything he can do to make sure it pauses.

He can't have you worrying about needing to be somewhere, needing to do something. He doesn't care if it's important. You're the only thing that's important to him and he's the only person you need.

You don't need to stress about having other people in your life. He can be everything for you. A lover, a friend, a walking, talking sex toy. Anything you could possibly need in your life.

You don't need money. There's nothing he won't buy for you. He won't have you stressed about that. He's buying you groceries before you can even think about it. You mention it once? He's not above locking you in a room while he goes shopping for you. He can't risk you doing it yourself.

It'll just be some extra nap time for you.

He's doing some retail therapy for you, buying you clothes he knows you'll like. He knows your exact size and taste. Every single measurement. He'll use it as an excuse to keep you away from everything - he's bought them for you, he needs a fashion show.

He's making you breakfast even if he'll be late to practice. He won't have you cooking for yourself. Every single meal he can provide for you, he's doing it. If he can't he's getting it delivered for you.

He's keeping you in a bubble with him. He's protecting you. He's shielding you from every single thing that could have a negative influence on you.

[be4chywritez]

red red wine | quinn hughes

quinn hughes x fem!reader

the week leading up to Quinn proposing to you, and the chaos that follows him.

recs are open + prompt list

beachy’s masterlist🐚

One Week Before

You stand in the kitchen of the lake house, absently scrolling through your phone while Jim and Ellen sit at the table, chatting over their morning coffee. Quinn is perched on a stool at the kitchen island, Jack and Luke beside him, all three listening in as you think out loud.

“I think I’m gonna get my nails done,” you say, mostly to yourself, glancing up from your screen. “I found this cute place nearby on Instagram. Might go check it out.”

Quinn freezes. Luke and Jack do the same, exchanging quick glances before all three of them force identical, strained smiles.

“Here?” Quinn asks, a little too casually.

You nod and turn your phone to show Ellen the pictures. “Yeah, thought it’d be nice to get a little pampered. Ellen, want to come with?”

For a split second, her eyes flick to Jim before she shakes her head with a warm—if slightly nervous—smile. “Oh, no, sweetheart. I think I’ll stay back, got a few things to tidy up around the house.”

You frown slightly, glancing between them. “I mean, I don’t have to go either. I could just hang—”

“NO!”

The entire Hughes family responds in unison, voices overlapping in a loud, comically panicked outburst. Even Jim, who’s been silent all morning, leans forward, wide-eyed like you just suggested setting the house on fire.

Quinn is the first to recover. He clears his throat and plasters on a quick, reassuring smile. “No, honey, you should definitely go. Treat yourself.” He waves a hand toward the door, trying—and failing—to sound nonchalant. “Have a nice day out.”

Your eyes narrow. “Okay…?” You drag the word out, suspicious, but slide your phone into your bag anyway. Grabbing your keys, you head for the door, throwing one last curious glance over your shoulder before stepping out.

As soon as the door clicks shut, Luke lets out a long breath. “Close call.”

Jim shakes his head, grinning. “She almost caught on already. We need to be more careful, boys.”

Downtown is quiet, the main street lined with flower boxes and little local shops. Lakeside Nails sits nestled between a café and an old bookstore, its windows decorated with delicate white lettering.

A nail tech waves you over with a friendly smile. “Hi! You must be my one o’clock.”

“That’s me.” You settle into the chair as she sets up.

“I’m Maya. What are we doing today?”

You pull up a photo. “Something like this? Just a clean, neutral look.”

Maya nods approvingly. “Pretty! So, just a little solo pampering trip?”

“Sort of. I’m staying at the lake house with my boyfriend and his family. Thought I’d take a little break and explore.”

Maya hums, focusing on your nails. “How’d you two meet?”

You smile, thinking back. “Through mutual friends. He was quiet at first, but then he made me laugh when I wasn’t expecting it. I don’t know… I just felt comfortable with him.”

“Those are the best ones,” she says with a grin. “Sounds like a good guy.”

“Yeah,” you say softly, warmth blooming in your chest. “He really is.”

When you walk back into the lake house, Quinn is stretched out on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He glances up as you come in, a lazy smile spreading across his face.

“Hey,” he says, sitting up. “Let’s see the nails.”

You plop down beside him, holding out your hand. He takes it, running his thumb lightly over your fingers. “Looks good,” he says, approving.

“Glad you think so.” You lean into him as his arm wraps around you, the warmth of his touch settling you into an easy quiet.

The rest of the evening is simple—pasta and salad for dinner, laughter when Quinn drops a handful of cherry tomatoes and watches them roll across the counter. Later, you curl up under a blanket with an old movie on, his fingers absentmindedly running through your hair. The house is peaceful, filled with the soft flicker of the TV and the steady rhythm of his breathing.

You don’t notice the way he looks at you. The way his gaze lingers, like he’s memorizing everything. Like he’s counting down.

Five Days Before

You wake slowly, the warmth of morning light filtering through the curtains. Quinn’s arm is draped over your waist, his hand resting lightly on your hip, his breathing steady and close. He stirs, his nose brushing against the back of your neck as he pulls you closer.

“Morning,” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

You smile, rolling over to face him. His eyes are still half-closed, messy hair falling over his forehead. You trace your fingers along his cheek, feeling the scratch of stubble. He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“Good morning,” you whisper.

He catches your hand, lacing his fingers through yours before bringing it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

You don’t realize how he looks at you—like you might disappear if he blinks.

“Honey, we’re on breakfast duty,” you remind him.

Quinn groans, shoving his face into your collarbone, stubble tickling your skin. He mumbles something, voice muffled.

You laugh. “No, we can’t let your brothers do it. Unless you want the house to burn down.”

Another grunt, but this time, he shifts, reluctantly getting up. You follow, falling into your usual morning routine.

As you pull on a sweater, he watches from the bathroom mirror, hoping you don’t dig too far into his sock drawer.

Hoping you don’t find the velvet box.

You don’t, thanks to a the higher power, but it only puts more pressure on Quinn to pop the damn question.

Four Days Before 

The lake house hums with its usual morning energy—Jack and Luke bickering over who gets the last pancake, Ellen moving around the kitchen with effortless ease, and Jim sipping his coffee while reading the newspaper like he’s immune to the chaos around him.

Quinn, however, is focused on one thing.

He leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching as you sit at the kitchen table, scrolling absently through your phone. Every few seconds, you look up to add something to the conversation, laughing as Luke launches a grape at Jack’s head. Quinn should be listening, should be jumping in with a comment of his own, but instead, his mind is caught on a single thought: How do I get her to buy the dress?

The dress—the one he wants to see you in when he finally asks the biggest question of his life. He saw it a few days ago when you were flipping through your phone, showing Ellen some boutique you wanted to check out. You hadn’t bought anything yet, just admired a few pieces before getting distracted by something else.

Now, with only four days to go, he needs to make sure you pick the one.

Quinn exhales through his nose and glances toward his brothers. Perfect.

Jack notices first, eyebrows furrowing as he watches Quinn silently glare at him. What? he mouths.

Quinn jerks his head toward the living room, signaling them to follow. Jack and Luke exchange a glance but don’t argue, trudging after him as he disappears down the hallway.

Once they’re out of earshot, Quinn turns to them, hands on his hips like he’s about to give them the most important assignment of their lives.

“Alright, I need you two to do something for me.”

Jack immediately groans. “Oh my god, what now?”

“It’s important,” Quinn says, leveling them with a look.

Luke raises an eyebrow. “Like, life-or-death important? Or are we talking Quinn-important, which means it’s about the love of your life?”

Jack snorts. “Yeah, do we need to prepare a eulogy?”

Quinn ignores them. “I need you guys to get her to buy a dress.”

Both of them stare at him.

“A dress,” Jack repeats flatly. “You dragged us away from breakfast for that?”

“Not just any dress,” Quinn says, rubbing the back of his neck. He feels stupid saying it out loud, but if there’s anyone who can pull this off without making it suspicious, it’s these two. “She was looking at this one the other day. It’s perfect for when I—” He stops himself before finishing the sentence, clearing his throat.

Luke catches on first. His eyes widen slightly before he grins. “Ohhh. You mean the dress.”

Jack still looks lost. “What—Oh. Ohhh.”

Quinn nods.

“Okay, so you want us to, what? Trick her into buying it?” Jack asks, crossing his arms.

“Not trick her,” Quinn corrects. “Just… steer her in the right direction.”

Luke grins. “You want us to gaslight her into thinking she needs it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You basically did,” Jack says.

Quinn sighs. “Can you two just do it?”

Luke claps a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Q, we got this. She’ll be buying that dress by the end of the day.”

Jack cracks his knuckles. “Time to be annoying.”

“Just don’t make it obvious,” Quinn warns.

Luke grins. “No promises.”

–

You hadn’t really planned on buying anything today.

The town’s little boutique district is charming, with its cobblestone paths and flower boxes hanging from the windows, but you were mostly browsing—taking in the sights, enjoying the crisp summer air, and, apparently, getting bombarded with very strong opinions from Jack and Luke.

“I’m just saying,” Jack starts, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets, “you’ve been talking about wanting a nice dress for a while.”

“Have I?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Luke, walking on your other side, nods solemnly. “Oh yeah. All the time. Constantly.”

You snort. “I’m pretty sure I haven’t.”

Jack ignores you. “And look at this!” He gestures dramatically toward one of the boutique windows. “A whole store dedicated to dresses! What are the odds?”

“Crazy,” Luke deadpans.

You give them a suspicious look. “Are you guys okay?”

“We’re great,” Jack says. “But you’d be even better if you had a new dress.”

Luke nods. “The best version of yourself, really.”

You shake your head with a laugh. “What is wrong with you two?”

“Nothing,” Jack says quickly. “We just care about you. And your wardrobe.”

“Especially that one dress you liked the other day,” Luke adds casually. “That was a good one.”

You narrow your eyes. “How do you even know about that?”

Jack elbows Luke. 

He gives you a pained smile, “intuition?” 

Luke sighs dramatically, turning toward you. “Look,, all I’m saying is that you should try it on. No pressure. No commitment. Just try it on and see how you feel.”

“Yeah,” Jack agrees. “Worst case? You hate it, and we all move on with our lives. Best case? You look amazing, and you thank us forever.”

You roll your eyes but, against your better judgment, let them lead you inside. The boutique is small but elegant, with soft lighting and carefully arranged racks of clothing. A sales associate greets you warmly, and before you know it, Luke and Jack are pushing you toward the exact dress they’ve clearly been scheming about.

You sigh, running your fingers over the fabric. It is beautiful.

“Just try it,” Luke urges. “For science.”

“For science,” Jack echoes.

You huff a laugh. “Fine. But if I don’t like it, you both owe me coffee.”

“Deal,” they say in unison.

Ten minutes later, you step out of the dressing room, smoothing your hands over the fabric. The dress fits perfectly, hugging in all the right places, flowing just enough to feel effortless. You glance at your reflection in the boutique mirror, tilting your head slightly.

“Well?” Jack asks, leaning forward eagerly.

Luke grins. “Yup. That’s the one.”

You shake your head, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “You guys are the worst.”

“And yet, we just helped you find your new favorite dress,” Jack points out.

You sigh. “Fine. But you’re still buying me coffee.”

Luke claps his hands. “Worth it.”

Meanwhile, back at the lake house, Quinn gets a text.

Luke: Mission accomplished.

He exhales, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Three more days.

Three Days Before

The morning sun spills through the windows of the lake house, casting warm golden hues over the kitchen. You hum softly to yourself as you pour a cup of coffee, the scent of roasted beans filling the air. Ellen is at the stove flipping pancakes while Jim reads the newspaper at the table, occasionally sipping his coffee. Jack and Luke sit across from him, bickering over who gets the last piece of toast.

Quinn stands by the fridge, looking unusually tense as he scrolls through his phone. You don’t think much of it—he’s always been the quiet, deep-in-thought type—but there’s something about the way he keeps glancing at you that makes you pause.

"Morning," you say, leaning against the counter as you take a slow sip of coffee. "What's up?"

Quinn's head snaps up like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. His fingers tighten around his phone, and for a second, he looks almost guilty.

"Uh—nothing. Just checking something." His voice is too quick, too casual, and you narrow your eyes.

Before you can push him further, Ellen calls over her shoulder, "Sweetheart, could you grab the syrup?"

You nod and step toward the pantry, but just as you do, Quinn leans closer to Ellen and whispers something.

You freeze mid-step.

It’s barely audible, just the faintest murmur of his voice, but you catch it. Ellen’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before she quickly schools her expression into something neutral.

Jim, who’s been mostly uninvolved in the morning chaos, suddenly folds his newspaper with a snap and clears his throat. Jack and Luke immediately stop arguing and sit up straighter, the air shifting ever so slightly.

You narrow your eyes. "Okay, what was that?"

Quinn immediately shakes his head. "What was what?"

"The whispering. The weird glances. Why do you all look like you just got caught committing a crime?"

Jack lets out a bark of nervous laughter. "Pfft, what? No crime here."

Luke elbows him, and he winces. "We were just—uh, talking about, um—"

"The weather," Jim supplies, nodding sagely.

"The weather?" you repeat flatly.

"Yup," Quinn says, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl and peeling it aggressively like that’ll somehow sell the lie.

You cross your arms, skeptical. "And what, exactly, about the weather required a top-secret family meeting?"

Ellen waves a hand dismissively. "Oh, just—just how lovely it's supposed to be this weekend! Perfect for, um, outdoor activities."

Jack nods. "Yeah, so perfect. Like, suspiciously perfect."

Luke elbows him again.

You squint at them, taking a slow sip of your coffee, watching as they all sit a little too still, looking a little too casual.

Something is definitely going on.

But before you can press further, Quinn suddenly steps forward, wraps an arm around your waist, and presses a kiss to your temple.

"Hey, didn’t you want to go into town today?" His voice is soft, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hip.

You blink up at him. "I mean, yeah, but—"

"Perfect," he says quickly. "You should go. Take your time. Enjoy yourself."

Jack and Luke nod in unison. "Yes. Enjoy. Take hours if you need."

Your eyes dart between them. They are terrible liars. But you sigh, deciding to let it go—for now.

"Fine," you say slowly, grabbing your bag. "But if I find out you guys are hiding something from me—"

"You won’t!" they all chorus at once.

You stare for another long beat before shaking your head and heading for the door.

As soon as it closes behind you, Quinn lets out a breath, running a hand through his hair.

Luke whistles. "That was way too close."

Jim chuckles. "You boys need to step up your game. She's sharp."

Quinn groans, rubbing his face. "I know. And we still have two more days of this."

Jack claps a hand on his shoulder. "Good luck, bud. You're gonna need it.

Two Days Before 

The lake stretches out before you, calm and glassy under the moonlight. It’s late—too late to still be outside, but the warmth of summer lingers in the air, and neither of you wants to go in just yet.

You sit beside Quinn on the dock, your legs dangling over the edge, bare feet skimming the cool water. The night is quiet, save for the occasional chirp of crickets and the distant rustling of trees.

Quinn hasn’t said much in the last few minutes.

He sits close—so close that your shoulders press together, his warmth seeping into you. His hand is resting between you, his fingers twitching like he wants to reach for you but is too lost in thought to do it.

You nudge him gently. "Penny for your thoughts?"

He exhales, a soft, slow sound. "Just thinking."

You tilt your head, watching him. His profile is illuminated by the glow of the moon, sharp angles softened by the night. His jaw flexes, and his fingers tighten slightly against the dock.

"About what?"

He hesitates, then turns to you. "The future."

Your chest tightens, a warmth blooming there. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." His voice is quiet, thoughtful. "I was just thinking about... where we'll be, years from now." He swallows, his throat bobbing. "What it'll look like."

You smile, leaning into him. "And? What does it look like?"

He glances down at his hands. "Us," he says simply. "Still together. Maybe a house. Maybe a dog." His lips twitch. "You always talk about wanting a golden retriever."

Your heart stutters.

"You actually listen when I say that?"

His brow furrows. "Of course I do."

There’s something so earnest about the way he says it—so completely sure.

You take his hand in yours, threading your fingers together. "I like that version of the future," you say softly.

Quinn looks at you then, his eyes dark and unreadable, something heavy sitting behind them. For a second, you think he’s about to say something—something big.

But instead, he squeezes your hand.

"Me too."

He presses a lingering kiss to your knuckles, then rests his forehead against yours.

You close your eyes, breathing him in, feeling the steady thump-thump-thump of his heart.

Neither of you says anything else.

But Quinn’s already made up his mind.

Tomorrow, he finds the perfect spot.

And in two days, he asks you to be his forever.

One Day Before 

The lake stretches endlessly before you, a shimmering expanse of deep blue beneath the warmth of the afternoon sun. A gentle breeze tugs at your hair, and the rhythmic rocking of the boat lulls you into a peaceful state. The water is calm, only disturbed by the occasional ripple from a passing jet ski or the soft lapping against the side of the boat.

You inhale deeply, letting the fresh air fill your lungs as you lean back against the cushioned seat. The warmth of the sun kisses your skin, and for the first time in a long while, you feel like time has slowed down.

Jim sits at the helm, hands steady on the wheel as he navigates through the open water. His expression is relaxed, a rare sight considering the chaos that usually follows whenever all three of his boys are together.

Ellen sits beside you, sunglasses perched on her nose, a soft smile on her lips as she watches the water shimmer.

“This is nice, isn’t it?” she muses, her voice light with contentment.

You nod, shifting slightly to soak in more of the sun. “Yeah, it really is.”

It’s not often that you get moments like this—just the three of you. Usually, Jack and Luke are wreaking havoc, Quinn is rolling his eyes fondly at their antics, and everything is a blur of chirps and laughter. But today is quiet. Peaceful.

You glance around the boat, taking in the emptiness where Quinn should be.

Your chest tightens slightly.

This morning, when you asked him if he was coming, he had been vague—mumbling something about needing to run an errand and promising he’d see you later. You hadn’t pushed, but now, with the afternoon stretching on without him, you can’t shake the feeling that something is off.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Ellen asks gently, tilting her head toward you.

You blink, realizing you had been staring at the empty seat beside you. Forcing a smile, you nod. “Yeah, just thinking.”

Ellen hums knowingly. “Quinn will be back soon, don’t worry. He’s probably just making sure whatever he’s doing is absolutely perfect.”

Jim chuckles from the driver’s seat. “Sounds about right.”

You frown slightly, narrowing your eyes. “Do you guys know something I don’t?”

Ellen and Jim exchange a quick glance, but Ellen’s smile doesn’t waver.

“Oh, honey,” she says, reaching over to pat your hand. “We always know something you don’t.”

You roll your eyes, laughing despite yourself.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of warmth and comfort. You soak up every moment—the way the sun reflects off the water like scattered diamonds, the sound of Jim’s easy laughter, the way Ellen insists on reapplying sunscreen to your shoulders even though you swear you’re fine.

And for a little while, you let yourself forget the strange feeling in your chest.

Meanwhile, deep in the woods, Quinn is on a mission.

Your absence is a weight he feels in his chest, but he knows this is worth it.

His boots crunch against the forest floor as he makes his way through the secluded clearing he stumbled upon earlier. The air smells like pine and fresh earth, the quiet only disturbed by the rustling of leaves in the wind.

It’s perfect. Tucked away from the main trails, surrounded by towering trees, with a small opening where the lake peeks through.

This is it.

Carefully, he unrolls the string of photos he printed last week, each one capturing a frozen moment in time—the two of you at your first hockey game together, laughing with noses pressed close; a blurry snapshot of you mid-laugh, taken when you weren’t looking; a quiet moment in bed, tangled in the sheets with sunlight painting your skin.

Every single one tells your story.

His hands shake slightly as he fastens them to the branches, adjusting them until they drape just right.

“Dude, this is insanely romantic,” Jack mutters behind him.

Quinn steps back, hands on his hips as he surveys the clearing. The photos sway gently in the breeze, catching the fading sunlight. Everything is almost perfect.

Except for Jack, who is standing in the middle of the setup like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“This is so weird,” Jack complains, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t know why I have to be her.”

Quinn sighs, rubbing his temples. “Because I need to make sure everything looks right, and you’re the closest to her height.”

“That’s actually so offensive,” Jack deadpans. “I don’t even know how, but it is.”

Luke snorts from behind the camera. “Just shut up and stand there, man. You’re ruining the vision.”

Jack groans dramatically but doesn’t move. “You owe me for this, dude. Big time.”

Quinn ignores him, stepping closer to adjust the positioning. He takes a deep breath, trying to picture you standing there instead of his little brother, who is doing a horrible job of being still.

“This is where I’ll kneel,” Quinn murmurs, mostly to himself. He drops down, testing the angle, the feel of the moment. His heart races, imagining the way you’ll look—eyes wide, lips parted in surprise, the way your breath will hitch right before you say yes.

Jack stares down at him, unimpressed. “I feel like I should be flattered, but mostly I feel like an idiot.”

Quinn huffs, looking up at him. “Can you at least pretend to be in love with me?”

Jack stares blankly for a second before bursting out laughing. “Dude. Dude. I cannot take this seriously.” He turns to Luke, who’s adjusting the camera settings. “Are you getting this? The absolute desperation in his eyes?”

Luke barely glances up. “You’re making it worse.”

“I’m making this worse?” Jack gestures at the setup. “Quinn is professing his undying love to me right now, and I’M the problem?”

Quinn groans, running a hand over his face. “Just shut up and look moved or something.”

Jack schools his expression into something vaguely serious and stares dramatically into the distance. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he says, voice overly soft. “We’ve been through so much together.”

Luke nearly drops the camera laughing. “Oh my god,” he wheezes.

Quinn pinches the bridge of his nose. “I hate both of you.”

Jack smirks, but he does settle down a little, standing a bit more still as Quinn makes the final adjustments.

After a few minutes of adjusting the lighting and the placement of the photos, Luke finally lifts the camera. “Alright, let’s get a test shot.”

Jack sighs dramatically but stays put. Quinn watches as Luke moves around, snapping photos from different angles. He frowns slightly, tilting the camera to check the preview.

“It looks good,” Luke says slowly, adjusting the focus. “But I think we need—Jack, stop standing like that.”

Jack scoffs. “Like what?”

“Like a dude who is about to ask another dude to prom,” Luke deadpans. “You look so uncomfortable.”

Jack throws his arms out. “Because I am uncomfortable! I am literally standing in the middle of a fake proposal, playing the role of my brother’s girlfriend.”

Quinn shakes his head. “Fine. Just—stand normal.”

Jack exhales sharply but follows instructions, his posture finally settling into something less stiff.

Luke snaps a few more photos before nodding. “Okay, that’s it. That’s the shot.”

Quinn steps back, taking in the clearing one last time. The photos, the lighting, the atmosphere—it’s all exactly how he pictured it. His heart pounds as he exhales, the reality of it hitting him all at once.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, you will be standing here.

Tomorrow, you will be the one in front of him when he kneels.

And tomorrow, you will say yes.

Jack claps him on the back, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Alright, Romeo. Can we go now? I have literally never felt more single in my life.”

Quinn rolls his eyes, but there’s a fondness behind it. “Yeah, we’re done.”

Luke stretches, shoving the camera back into his bag. “You better make this the best proposal of all time, bro. Because if we went through all of this for nothing—”

Quinn grins, confidence settling in his chest. “She’s gonna love it.”

Jack sighs dramatically. “You owe us.”

Quinn just laughs, already imagining how perfect tomorrow will be.

That night, you’re curled up in bed when Quinn finally slips into the room. The warmth of his body presses against yours as he slides beneath the covers, pulling you into his arms.

“You have fun today?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Mmm,” you hum, half-asleep. “Missed you.”

His chest tightens.

He buries his face in your hair, arms tightening around you. “Missed you too.”

You sigh softly, relaxing into him.

Quinn stays awake long after you drift off, heart thudding with anticipation.

One more night.

Tomorrow, everything changes.

Proposal Day

The morning sun filters through the kitchen windows, casting a golden glow over the lake house. The scent of fresh coffee lingers in the air as you lean against the counter, watching the Hughes family settle into their usual breakfast chaos.

Jack is the first to steal the last piece of toast off Luke’s plate, and Luke retaliates by flicking a grape at his forehead. Quinn sighs, stirring his coffee like he’s debating whether it’s worth intervening. Ellen is at the stove, flipping pancakes with practiced ease, while Jim nurses his coffee at the table, reading something on his phone.

Ellen turns toward you with a smile. “I was thinking,” she starts, “since everyone’s here, we should do a nice family dinner tonight.”

Luke perks up. “Ooh, like a fancy dinner? Do I have to wear a button-up?”

“Yes,” Ellen says firmly.

Jack groans dramatically. “Can I at least wear my nice hoodie?”

Jim barely looks up. “No.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you sip your coffee. “A dinner sounds nice.”

Ellen nods. “Good, because I already bought all the stuff.”

Quinn finally speaks, glancing at you. “You should wear that dress you got.”

You arch an eyebrow. “The one you definitely weren’t scheming to get me to buy?”

Jack and Luke both snicker, and Quinn glares at them before turning back to you, feigning innocence. “What? I just think you’d look really nice in it.”

Luke leans in conspiratorially. “You should do it. Mostly because if you don’t, Quinn will spend the entire dinner sulking and staring at you like a sad puppy.”

You roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at your lips. “Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Jack smirks. “Nope. That’s how we end up with emo Quinn, and nobody wants that.”

Quinn groans. “I hate all of you.”

Ellen hides a smile as she flips another pancake. “You love them,” she corrects.

Quinn sighs, shooting you a hopeful glance. “So, the dress?”

You shake your head, amused. “Fine. But if I do, Luke and Jack owe me dessert.”

Luke claps a hand over his heart. “Done.”

Jack nods. “Easiest deal of my life.”

Quinn smiles to himself, satisfied. One step closer.

Dinner starts out promising enough. The table is set, the food looks amazing, and the sunset paints the lake in warm hues. It should be perfect.

And then… things start to go sideways.

First, Luke—being Luke—tries to help bring the dishes to the table and nearly drops the salad bowl. In his panic to save it, he elbows Jack, who’s carrying a basket of rolls. The bread goes flying, one roll landing directly in Jim’s drink.

“Nice,” Jim mutters, plucking it out with a sigh.

Ellen shakes her head, clearly unimpressed but used to this kind of chaos. “Can we go one meal without something ending up on the floor?”

Jack, unfazed, shrugs. “Technically, it landed in Dad’s glass.”

You try to hold back a laugh as Quinn pulls out a chair for you, but the moment you sit, you realize something is… off. The seat wobbles, just enough to be noticeable, and before you can react, one of the legs gives way entirely.

“Shit—”

You barely manage to catch yourself before fully hitting the ground. Quinn moves fast, steadying you before you can completely fall, but the damage is done. Luke is doubled over laughing, and Jack is wheezing so hard he can’t breathe.

“I—” Jack tries, but he’s laughing too hard to finish. “I swear—we didn’t—touch—that chair—”

Quinn glares at them before looking at you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, face burning as you straighten up. “Just my pride taking a hit.”

Ellen sighs. “That chair was wobbly this morning. I told you boys to fix it.”

Jack wipes a tear from his eye. “Well, now we know it was definitely broken.”

Dinner resumes, and for a few blessed minutes, everything is normal. The conversation flows, the food is delicious, and you almost forget about the earlier chaos.

Until Luke, in all his wisdom, decides he needs more steak sauce. He reaches across the table, miscalculating just how close his elbow is to your glass of wine.

The second the glass tips, it’s over.

Red wine splashes everywhere—your dress, the table, Quinn’s sleeve.

“Oh my God,” you exclaim, pushing back from the table as the cold liquid soaks into the fabric.

Luke freezes. “Oh—oh, shit. Oh, no—”

Ellen is already up, grabbing napkins. “Luke.” Her voice is the kind of exasperated that only comes from years of dealing with sons who can’t sit still. “Seriously?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Luke looks at you with pure panic. “I—I can fix this—”

Jack leans back, shaking his head. “Man, you just ruined her dress.”

“I know!” Luke groans, looking like he genuinely feels terrible. “I’ll—uh—I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”

Quinn, who’s been silent through all of this, takes one look at you and then turns to Luke with the calmest voice imaginable.

“Get up.”

Luke blinks. “What?”

“Get. Up.”

There’s a long pause before Luke, sensing the very real possibility of Quinn throwing him into the lake, slowly pushes his chair back and stands.

Quinn doesn’t hesitate—he grabs Luke’s napkin and dabs at your dress, his brows furrowed in frustration. “I told you not to sit next to her.”

Luke throws his hands up. “How is this my fault?!”

Ellen sighs again. “Alright, alright, it’s just a little wine.” She turns to you. “Honey, let’s go see if we can salvage your dress.”

You follow her inside, but despite her best efforts, the stain refuses to come out.

You sigh, looking at Ellen through the mirror. “Ellen, I think it’s unsalvageable.”

She looks up at you, guilt evident on her face. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

You shake your head with a small smile. “It’s fine, really.”

When you return downstairs, Luke looks like a kicked puppy, eyes glued to the floor. Quinn scans your dress, his jaw tightening.

“Goddammit, Luke,” Quinn mutters.

You step beside him, nudging Luke lightly with your foot. “It’s fine, really,” you say softly.

Quinn exhales, rubbing his jaw before looking at you. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”

You blink at him. “Right now?”

“Yeah,” he says, his voice quieter now, more certain. “Right now.”

You hesitate, then nod. “Okay.”

The night air is crisp, carrying the scent of pine and the lingering warmth of the lake. The sound of crickets hums in the background as you and Quinn walk in comfortable silence, his fingers laced through yours. The chaos of dinner fades into the background, replaced by the rhythmic crunch of gravel beneath your feet.

“You okay?” you ask softly, glancing up at him.

Quinn exhales through his nose, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. Just… today didn’t go exactly how I planned.”

You squeeze his hand. “You had a plan?”

His smile grows slightly. “Believe it or not, yeah. Kind of.”

You smirk. “Well, that was your first mistake.”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “Tell me about it.”

You keep walking, but the farther you go, the more familiar the path becomes. It’s only when the trees thin, revealing a quiet clearing, that you realize where he’s leading you. Your steps slow as you take it in.

Strung between the branches, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon and the fairy lights Quinn must have set up earlier, are dozens of photos—memories captured and preserved in time.

Your breath catches as you step forward, reaching out to gently touch one of them. It’s a picture from your first hockey game together, noses nearly pressed together as you grinned at the camera. Another of you mid-laugh, eyes crinkled with joy. One from a lazy morning in bed, sunlight spilling across your tangled limbs.

Every single one tells your story.

You turn back to Quinn, your chest tight with emotion. “You did all this?”

He nods, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. I—I wanted you to see what I see. Every time I look at you, it’s just… it’s all of this. Every moment, every memory, everything that makes us, us.”

Your eyes burn with unshed tears.

“I wanted everything to be perfect,” he continues, voice quiet but steady. “I had this whole idea in my head—this big, perfect moment. The dinner, the dress, the way tonight was supposed to go.” He shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “And then Luke knocked wine all over you, and Jack wouldn’t stop chirping, and everything kind of fell apart.”

You smile, tilting your head. “Sounds about right.”

Quinn looks at you, his blue eyes searching yours. “Yeah. But then I realized… this is perfect.” He lets out a small, breathy laugh, almost like he’s realizing it in real time. “The chaos, the interruptions, the fact that nothing ever goes exactly how we plan it. That’s us. That’s our life.”

Your breath catches slightly.

He takes a deep breath, then lets go of one of your hands, reaching into his pocket. And suddenly, he’s kneeling before you, a small velvet box in his palm, slightly illuminated by the moonlight.

“I don’t need the perfect moment,” he says, looking up at you. “I just need you.”

Your heart pounds, your vision blurring as you try to take in everything at once—the way he’s looking at you, the way his fingers tremble just slightly around the box, the way the entire world feels like it’s tilting on its axis.

“Marry me?” he asks, voice soft but sure.

You let out a shaky breath, a laugh breaking through the tears already forming in your eyes. “Quinn, of course I’ll marry you.”

A breath of relief escapes him before he grins—grins in that rare, open way he only does when he’s truly happy. He stands quickly, slipping the ring onto your finger before wrapping his arms around you, holding you close.

You bury your face in his shoulder, laughing through your tears. “God, I love you.”

His grip tightens around you, his voice warm against your ear. “Love you more.”

By the time you and Quinn make it back, hand in hand, the Hughes family is waiting—Jack and Luke perched on the couch, Jim leaning against the counter, and Ellen practically bouncing in place.

Jack spots the ring first. “Oh my god—”

Ellen claps her hands together, her eyes shining. “You said yes?”

You hold up your hand, and the room erupts.

Jack groans dramatically, flopping back onto the couch. “I can’t believe this. Quinn won at life.”

Jim claps Quinn on the shoulder with a proud nod, and Ellen pulls you into a tight hug, murmuring how happy she is for you both.

Luke hangs back, hands shoved in his pockets, his eyes darting toward you before dropping to the floor. His face is tight, like he’s been debating something in his head.

You don’t give him the chance to overthink it. Without a word, you step toward him and wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug.

Luke stiffens in surprise before slowly relaxing, exhaling a breath. “I—I really didn’t mean to ruin your dress,” he mumbles, voice small.

You smile against his shoulder. “I know, Luke. It’s just a dress.”

He hesitates before hugging you back, his grip a little tight, like he’s still worried about the whole thing. “I felt really bad.”

You pull back just enough to look at him. “Well, you can make it up to me by giving a really good speech at the wedding.”

His eyes widen. “Wait—I can do a speech?”

Quinn sighs, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. “I never said that.”

Luke smirks. “You didn’t have to.”

Jack groans. “Oh god, this is gonna be unbearable.”

Quinn shakes his head, pulling you back to his side. “I should’ve proposed in private,” he mutters under his breath.

You laugh, squeezing his hand. “Nah. This is perfect.”

And as the Hughes family falls into their usual rhythm of chirps and laughter, as Quinn’s hand tightens around yours, you know that nothing—no chaos, no spilled wine, no wobbly chairs—could have made this moment any better.

beachy’s notes: hello babes please please, please send me fic requests

[oraltraditionfiction]

We listen and we don’t judge | QH43

Quinn Hughes x f! reader (fluff)

Summary: You and Quinn do the We Listen and We Don't Judge challenge.

WC: 453

Author's Note: Tbh we're not really on tiktok, but we thought this was a cute idea!! This is my first ever fic/blurb/piece of fanfiction so I would love to hear any feedback :-) Enjoy! - 🐇

You set the camera up on the kitchen counter, swiping under your eyes before backing up to Quinn. 

“Ok! Are we ready?” You say, clapping your hands together. Quinn nods, arms slung around you and an indulgent smile on his face. 

“This is the weird habits thing from TikTok, right?”

You nod, laughing, as you lean forward and press play.

“We listen and we don’t judge!” You say as you spread your hands theatrically, Quinn only jumping in halfway through the sentence.

You side eye the man next to you, leaning in close to the camera, “Sometimes,” a conspiratorial whisper, “I cheer for the Bruins when you aren’t home.”

Quinn drops his arms from around you, and turns towards you wide eyed, “Babe, that’s practically treason… they’ll kill you…” you laugh and shove him lightly, a finger in front of your mouth to mime secrecy. 

“Ok your turn!” you push him forward.

“We listen and we don’t judge!” said together.

He chuckles, rubbing his neck, “Sometimes I use your face towel as a hand towel” You whirl towards him in shock, hitting his arm with the back of your hand. 

“Quinn! I have acne because of you!” He dodges your playful hits, laughing at your mock outraged face.

Through giggles you spit out, “Sometimes I dog-ear our book pages because you lost all of our cute bookmarks.” 

“Oh my god, babe, find a receipt or some shit. They don’t have to be cute” Quinn puts his head in his hands, heaving out a dramatic sigh. You laugh, tugging his hands away from his face as he thinks of his next one.

“One time I put your favorite bra in the dryer and it got ruined and instead of telling you I just bought a new one” 

You gasp, actually floored. “You told me that I had probably just missed that tag! I can’t believe you!” 

Faking indignation you turn away from him and say, “Sometimes I don’t wash our fruit before we eat it” 

“You’re going to actually give us brain worms. Oh my god, babe… we could have brain worms right now.” He says hand over his mouth, your laughter ringing out across the kitchen. 

Quinn wraps his arms around you, holding you close, “Sometimes when you aren’t here, I don’t use coasters.” You gasp, turning in his hold. He laughs as you begin gesticulating wildly, 

“Quinn, that is so bad for the wood!” You begin lecturing him, saying that his apartment is much too nice for moisture rings to be on his nice wooden coffee table. He buries his face in your neck, smothering his laughter so he can listen attentively to your voice.

[777bae]

FIVE CHANCES AND ONE KISS QUINN HUGHES

Summary :: Five times Quinn has the chance to kiss you, and one time he takes that chance.

Warnings :: holding back, kissing

Word count :: 5.8k

1. The First Chance – After a Game Win

The game is over, and the cheers of the crowd are still ringing in Quinn’s ears, but it’s not the roar of the fans that has his heart racing—it’s the thought of you. He knows you’re out there somewhere, in the stands, eyes fixed on him, waiting for him like you always do. His skates leave the ice with the weight of the game finally lifted, but now there’s something else pulling at him, something deeper.

As Quinn skates off the rink, past his teammates who are congratulating him on the win, he’s not paying attention to any of it. All he can focus on is the way the arena feels smaller now, the noise almost fading out completely. His eyes search the crowd, and when they find you, standing by the barrier with that bright, encouraging smile on your face, it feels like the entire world falls away. The lights above, the roar of the crowd, everything just fades into the background, and the only thing that matters in that moment is you.

His heart picks up its pace. You’re here, you’ve been here all along, and somehow, he’s always known that when the game ends, it’s you he wants to see most. Quinn can’t stop the small smile that tugs at the corner of his lips as his eyes lock with yours. The warmth of your gaze wraps around him, and he can’t help but feel grounded in it. It’s like everything else has been a blur, but the second he looks at you, time seems to stand still.

He skates toward the edge of the ice, trying not to get distracted, but when you wave at him, his pulse quickens. There’s no one else around, no teammates or fans in his mind, just you—your excitement, your pride.

“You were amazing!” you shout, your voice rising over the last of the crowd’s cheers, but to Quinn, it sounds like music. You’re looking at him like he’s the most important person in the room, and that look in your eyes makes him feel more alive than any goal or play ever could.

Quinn blushes slightly, his cheeks flushing from the warmth of your words. He wants to say something back, something to express how much hearing that from you means to him, but instead, he just grins, his chest tight with a mix of happiness and something else—something he’s been feeling more and more around you lately.

“I really wanted to make you proud tonight,” he says, his voice carrying a slight rasp from the exertion of the game, but the sincerity is clear. His gaze never leaves yours, as if searching for something in your eyes, something that says you understand just how much that means to him.

You smile softly, your eyes glowing with affection, and your voice drops to a near whisper, just for him to hear. “You always make me proud.”

The simple statement fills him up, and for a moment, everything else—his achievements, the game, the celebrations—fades away. You’re here, and in this moment, it’s all that matters. Your eyes are locked on him, and he sees something in them—a softness, a warmth—that makes his heart skip a beat. He can feel the space between you shrinking, the weight of this moment settling in like it’s the only one that counts.

He takes a step closer to you, his hand moving slightly toward yours as if his body knows what he wants before his mind can process it. The air between you two feels charged now, electric, like the world is holding its breath. He’s so close now, so close he can almost taste the air around you. You both feel it—the gravity pulling you together, the undeniable desire to close the distance.

Quinn’s gaze flickers down to your lips, and it’s like everything else disappears. His heartbeat is so loud in his chest, he’s sure you can hear it. He leans in slightly, his body almost touching yours, and you can feel his breath, warm and steady against your skin. His eyes never leave yours as he inches closer, and for a heartbeat, everything feels suspended in time.

He’s so close, so incredibly close, that you can feel the pull between you two, like a magnet drawing you together. You can’t help but lean in a little, your lips parting slightly, your breath catching in anticipation.

But just as your faces are about to meet, a loud clap on Quinn’s back jolts him out of the moment.

“Hey, good job, Quinn!” one of his teammates calls, breaking the spell. Quinn’s body freezes, and for a split second, he feels the warmth of your closeness slip away, replaced by the sudden rush of noise around him.

He takes a deep breath, blinking a few times, as if trying to reorient himself. Reluctantly, he steps back, the distance between you both suddenly feeling unbearable. His heart is still racing, but it’s not from the game anymore. It’s because he knows he almost kissed you. Almost.

With a small, apologetic smile, Quinn turns toward the team, throwing a quick look over his shoulder. “I’ll see you later,” he says softly, his voice just for you. He doesn’t wait for a response, afraid that if he does, he’ll say something he shouldn’t, or maybe do something he’s not ready for.

You watch him leave, your heart heavy with the ‘almost’ of it all. The moment was there—right there, within your grasp—but now it’s slipping away. Still, there’s something more in the air now, something unspoken between you both. That feeling, that undeniable pull, is still there. It’s only a matter of time before the right moment comes again. And when it does, neither of you will let it slip away.

2. The Second Chance – During the Drive Home

The car hums steadily as Quinn drives, the rhythm of the tires on the road a comforting backdrop to the stillness between you. The city lights streak past the windows, their bright glow illuminating the otherwise dark night, but inside the car, the atmosphere feels a little different—a little charged. You’re not sure if it’s the lingering warmth of the evening, the closeness between you both, or something else entirely, but there’s an undeniable tension. It’s the kind of tension that lingers in the air like static electricity, and neither of you has acknowledged it, but you both feel it.

The silence between you is easy, but it’s also heavy, like something unsaid floats between you two, waiting for its moment to break free. It’s a comfortable kind of silence, but with every passing second, it feels more like it’s about to shift into something more.

You glance over at Quinn, watching the way his hand rests lightly on the steering wheel, his fingers flexing as he adjusts his grip. As you let your gaze linger for just a moment too long, your fingers brush against his on the center console—just the faintest flicker of contact, enough to make your heart skip a beat. The touch is light, almost accidental, but it’s enough to send a spark through your chest. You quickly pull your hand back, not sure if Quinn even noticed, but you feel it deep in your chest—the soft warmth of his skin against yours.

Quinn shifts in his seat, his hand slightly turning, and for a second, you wonder if he’s going to reach for yours again. But then, he asks, his voice breaking the silence, “Did you have fun tonight?”

You blink, your mind momentarily distracted by the heat from his touch, and you shift your attention back to the road ahead. “Yeah, I did,” you reply, your voice steady, though there’s a hint of a smile in it. “It was nice to get out.”

You both fall quiet again, and this time, the silence feels like it’s pressing in on you, filling the space between you two. The hum of the tires on the road fills your ears, but it’s barely audible over the pulse in your chest, the rhythm of your own heartbeat.

Quinn shifts in his seat, and his voice, when it comes again, is softer than before, almost tentative, like he’s testing the waters. “I like when we just hang out, you know?” he says, his tone quieter than usual, more vulnerable. “It’s… easy with you.”

His words catch you off guard, settling in your chest like something both simple and significant. The sincerity in his voice warms you, making the tension between you both feel a little lighter, but it also makes your pulse quicken, because you know there’s something deeper in those words than just casual friendship. You feel it too—the way things feel different when it’s just the two of you, when the noise of the world fades away and it’s just him and you in a car, in this moment.

“I know,” you say softly, your voice a little breathier than you intended, but the smile that tugs at your lips is genuine, warm. “Yeah, me too.”

But the moment doesn’t quite break. The quiet hangs in the air like a delicate thread between you two, and you both feel it, the awareness of each other, the distance between you two shortening with every passing second. The words don’t seem necessary anymore. The shared look is enough. You both know what’s there, what’s been there all along.

Quinn’s hand shifts again on the steering wheel, his fingers brushing against yours once more, this time a little more intentionally, like he’s giving you the choice to move closer, to let the contact linger. You feel the warmth of his skin against yours, a gentle, electric pulse that runs straight to your chest. It’s like everything inside of you shifts at that touch—your breath catching in your throat, your heart thudding a little harder.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, and for a split second, you catch his gaze. The look in his eyes sends a ripple of heat through your body. He’s looking at you with something there, something unspoken, and it makes the air between you feel impossibly thick. Neither of you says anything. You both just hold that look, the car shrinking around you, and for a heartbeat, it feels like everything else in the world disappears.

For one moment, it’s just the two of you in this small space, the connection between you undeniable. His breath hitches, and you can feel the tension between you both—unspoken, but powerful.

But then, just as quickly as it had happened, Quinn pulls his hand away, the warmth of his touch slipping from your skin. It’s a small movement, but it feels heavy, the way he quickly pulls back like he’s second-guessing himself. He clears his throat, his voice a little flustered, as if he’s trying to regain control of the moment that had gotten away from him.

“I—sorry,” he says, his words coming out a little more rushed than usual. You can hear the regret in his voice, though he doesn’t make eye contact.

You feel a slight pang in your chest at the distance that’s suddenly there between you, but you quickly shake your head, trying to brush it off. “No, it’s okay,” you reply, your voice soft, hoping that he knows it’s really fine. That the moment isn’t lost, that it’s still there, lingering in the space between you two.

But the moment is gone, the air between you both heavy with unspoken things, with what-ifs and maybes. Quinn keeps his gaze focused on the road now, but you can sense the shift in him—the way his hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter, the way his posture stiffens. The energy in the car has changed, and for the rest of the drive, it lingers between you both like an unfinished thought, something both of you can’t help but feel but don’t know how to address.

The ‘what if’ hangs heavy between you two, unspoken but undeniable. Neither of you can help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, this would be the time—if the distance would shrink, if the tension would finally give way to what you both want but haven’t dared to ask for. But for now, the drive continues, and with it, that heavy silence.

3. The Third Chance – After Your First Argument

The fight had been small, but the words still lingered like a bitter taste in your mouth, and the space between you two felt wider than it ever had before. The two of you sat at opposite ends of the couch, a chasm of silence stretching out between you. The TV was on, but neither of you were paying it any attention. It played on in the background, but the noise only served to highlight how quiet everything else had become. The frustration that hung in the air was thick, suffocating, and despite the tension, neither of you seemed willing to break it.

The silence seemed to stretch on forever, until finally, Quinn spoke, his voice softer than usual, the weight of something unspoken heavy in the words. “I didn’t mean it, you know? I didn’t mean what I said.”

His words hang in the air for a moment, and you turn your head to look at him. There’s something in his eyes—something vulnerable, maybe even guilty, and it tugs at you. You can see it in the way he holds himself, in the way his shoulders are tense, like he’s waiting for you to say something, anything. His sincerity is there, but the sting from the argument still burns deep inside you.

“I know you didn’t,” you respond, your voice softer now, but there’s still a weight to it, a tremble that betrays the hurt. “But it hurt.”

You see his chest rise and fall with a long breath as he nods slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” Quinn says, his voice low, almost like a confession. He’s leaning forward now, his body language open and raw. There’s no bravado, no walls, just him—vulnerable, real, and apologetic. His gaze locks with yours, and you can feel that ache inside your chest start to ease just a little. The words are enough to chip away at the anger, to start mending the rift that had formed between you two, but the wound is still there, still tender.

Your heart softens, and without thinking, you sit up from your end of the couch, moving a little closer to him. The space between you two feels different now—almost electric, like the distance between you had shrunk to a thin line of tension, and the air around you both crackled with the anticipation of what could come next. The argument, the hurt, it seemed insignificant now, as if it were something that could be pushed aside, just for this moment. It was strange how quickly things could shift, how easily the past few minutes could feel like they no longer mattered.

Quinn shifts slightly as well, the subtle movement of his knee brushing against yours. The contact is fleeting, but it sends a jolt of warmth through both of you, an unspoken connection that doesn’t need words. Your pulse quickens, and for a split second, it feels like everything could be different—like you could erase the tension, the hurt, and just let it be between you two.

He looks at you, his hand twitching slightly on the armrest as if it’s fighting the urge to reach for you. You can see the struggle in his eyes—the want to close that distance between you both, but the hesitation, the uncertainty of whether or not it’s the right time, the right moment. His lips part, and for a brief second, it seems like he might speak again, but then his eyes find yours once more, and that’s when the world feels like it narrows, as if the entire room shrinks, leaving just the two of you in this fragile, suspended moment.

“I’m sorry,” Quinn says again, his voice barely above a whisper. The words fall from his lips like a confession, like he’s offering his apology to you for more than just the fight. It’s the kind of apology that feels like it goes deeper than a simple disagreement—it’s the kind of apology that carries all the weight of emotions neither of you have fully addressed yet. His sincerity hangs in the air, thick and palpable.

You feel the heat in your chest, the knot in your stomach loosening as you look at him. “I know,” you whisper back, your words a soft, understanding murmur. You don’t need to say more—he’s already said everything he needed to say, and the softness in your voice is enough to show him that you’ve heard him, that you’re ready to move past it.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The air feels thick with possibility. There’s a quiet kind of tension between you now, but it’s different from before. It’s charged, expectant. You can feel his gaze on you, the heat of his presence, and you know he’s just as aware of the closeness between you as you are. His eyes flicker down to your lips, then back to your eyes, and for a second, everything in the room seems to slow. The space between you two feels like it’s shrinking with every heartbeat, with every breath you both take. His lips part slightly, and you feel your own heart rate pick up, your body tensing in anticipation.

He leans forward ever so slightly, just enough to make you wonder if this time, maybe, this time it’ll happen. You can feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy, your chest tightening in anticipation of what feels like the inevitable. And yet, just as you both are on the edge of something, just as it feels like you’re about to cross that line, Quinn pulls back abruptly, the space between you widening again.

He runs a frustrated hand through his hair, the motion quick and almost desperate. “We’ll figure this out,” he says, his voice softer, but you can hear the uncertainty in it now. He looks away, his gaze drifting toward the floor, and the weight of the moment slips from the air, leaving the room feeling heavier than before.

You exhale slowly, disappointed but understanding. It wasn’t the right time. It couldn’t be, not yet. But it doesn’t make the longing go away. The “what if” of the moment lingers between you, unanswered, suspended in the air, and you can’t help but feel that pang in your chest—a mix of longing and regret.

Still, you know that things aren’t over. The space between you two isn’t as wide as it had been before. There’s something in the way he looks at you now, something in the way he holds himself that tells you this isn’t the end of it, not by a long shot. But for now, the moment is gone, and neither of you knows quite what to say next. The silence falls once again, but this time, it’s different. It’s quieter, heavier with the weight of what was almost, but wasn’t, but still might be.

4. The Fourth Chance – On a Quiet Night In

The room is calm and peaceful, wrapped in a quiet stillness that seems to hold time itself at bay. You’re both curled up on the couch, close but not quite touching, the soft hum of the world outside barely reaching you. The gentle glow of the lamp casts shadows along the walls, creating a warm, intimate atmosphere that makes everything feel a little slower, a little more connected. There’s no rush, no expectations—just the quiet comfort of being together, of sharing a moment without the pressure of the world outside.

You’ve both settled into this peaceful silence, the kind that only comes when two people are comfortable in each other’s presence. The weight of the day is gone, and there’s a sense of contentment that fills the space between you. It’s rare, these moments of simplicity, but it feels right. It feels like everything else can wait.

After a while, Quinn breaks the silence, his voice low, almost a murmur, as if he doesn’t want to disturb the quiet but feels the need to speak anyway. “You know,” he says, his tone thoughtful, “I really enjoy spending time like this with you. No games. No pressure. Just… this.”

His words settle in the air between you, a soft confession that feels more vulnerable than he probably intended. You glance at him, your heart warming at the sincerity in his voice, the way he’s being so open, so real. There’s a quiet honesty in his words that pulls at something deep inside you, making you realize how much you cherish these moments together, how much you’ve come to rely on them.

You smile, turning slightly toward him, your eyes meeting his. “I like it too,” you reply, your voice softer than usual, your heart already in your throat. “Just… being with you.”

The air between you both feels different now, charged with a quiet understanding, the kind that only comes when two people are on the same wavelength. You’re close enough that you can feel the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breath. It’s a silent exchange, but it says everything—how comfortable you are, how much you value these moments, how much you’ve come to mean to each other.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. It’s as if the whole world has slowed down, like the room itself is holding its breath, waiting for something. It’s a subtle shift in the air, a subtle change in the way you’re both looking at each other. There’s an unspoken connection that lingers, one that feels deeper than words. Your gaze locks with his, and you feel the weight of it, the intensity of his look. His eyes are soft, but there’s something in them—a depth, a sincerity—that makes your heart skip a beat. The space between you feels smaller now, the silence thick with the unspoken.

Quinn shifts a little closer, his body angling toward you, his hand resting gently on the arm of the couch. His fingers twitch slightly, as if fighting an urge, as if he wants to reach for you but isn’t sure if he should. The moment hangs there, suspended in time, the air between you both charged with anticipation. Your lips part, your breath catching in your throat as you feel the weight of the moment, as if this is the point where everything could change, where the connection between you could finally be made real in the most intimate way.

But then Quinn shifts again, his hand pulling away from the arm of the couch, creating just enough space between you that the moment slips through your fingers. The tension is still there, still thick, but now there’s a sense of hesitation, an uncertainty that fills the air. He smiles, but it’s a small, wistful smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and for a brief moment, you wonder what’s going on inside his head.

“I… don’t know what’s holding me back,” he admits quietly, his voice almost to himself, like he’s trying to figure it out as he says it. The words carry a weight of vulnerability, and you can see it in the way he looks at you, in the way he’s holding himself back, even though it’s clear that he wants to move closer. You can sense the conflict within him, the push and pull of his feelings. He wants this, you can tell, but something is stopping him—something that neither of you have said, but you both feel.

Your heart aches at the hesitation, the uncertainty in his words, because you can feel it too—the tension, the waiting. You want to tell him that it’s okay, that you understand, but it’s hard to find the right words. Instead, you simply smile, your fingers gently brushing his as you reach out, offering him the comfort of your touch, the reassurance that everything doesn’t need to be perfect right now.

“When it’s the right time,” you say softly, your voice a quiet murmur, “you’ll know.”

You both hold that moment for a breath longer, the space between you still thick with unspoken things. The words hang in the air, lingering like a promise, like an understanding that doesn’t need to be rushed, doesn’t need to be forced. The connection between you is there, clear and undeniable, and in that moment, you both know that it’s only a matter of time. When the right time comes, it’ll be real. But for now, you’re content with the simplicity of this—just being together, sharing this quiet, beautiful moment.

And just like that, the moment slips away, but it doesn’t feel like a loss. You both know it’s not over; it’s just waiting for the right moment, for the time when everything aligns. But for now, you sit in the warmth of each other’s presence, content, connected, and still.

5. The Fifth Chance – After You Tell Him You’re Proud

The evening is a rare kind of stillness, one that settles over everything like a blanket, calming the world around you. The noise of the day has faded, and the only sounds left are the soft hum of the city below, the distant murmur of traffic, and the occasional rustle of the wind moving through the trees. You’re sitting together on the balcony, your legs tucked underneath you, a comfortable distance between you, but close enough that you can feel the warmth of Quinn’s presence beside you. The city lights stretch out before you, a mosaic of golds and blues twinkling in the distance, but it feels as though the entire world is silent except for the two of you.

The conversation between you both flows easily, naturally—nothing forced, no pressure, just the comfort of being together. There’s an effortless rhythm to it, but as the moments pass, it becomes clear that there’s something more in the air, something unspoken that both of you can feel but haven’t fully acknowledged. It’s a quiet understanding, one that lingers beneath the surface, weaving its way through the conversation without either of you saying a word about it.

You shift slightly, taking a breath, and then you speak, your voice soft and sincere, breaking the silence in a way that feels almost intimate. “You know, Quinn,” you start, the words coming slowly but with intention, “I’m really proud of you. For everything. All the hard work you put in. The way you lead, on and off the ice… it doesn’t go unnoticed.”

Quinn turns to look at you, his expression shifting as he processes your words. There’s a moment of stillness, and you can see the surprise in his eyes, the vulnerability in the way he regards you. It’s as if he didn’t expect this, and yet, the sincerity in your voice seems to settle into him, like a quiet affirmation that he didn’t know he needed but now feels deeply. His lips curve into a small, genuine smile, the corners of his eyes softening as he takes in your words. “That means everything to me,” he says, his voice low, full of gratitude and a warmth that makes your heart swell. “I don’t know what to say… but thank you.”

You can feel the weight of his words, the truth behind them, and your chest fills with something soft and sincere in return. There’s a deep sense of connection between you both, something unspoken that binds you together, and in this moment, it feels like everything is aligned in a way that’s almost perfect. You smile back at him, your heart full as you reach out, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

“I just wanted you to know that,” you continue, your voice steady and sure. “You’re incredible. I see it. And I just… I wanted you to know that I notice.”

Quinn’s gaze doesn’t leave yours, and you can feel the intensity of it now, how his eyes linger on you, searching your face as if he’s looking for something—maybe for reassurance, maybe for confirmation of what he already feels deep inside. The world outside fades, the city lights dimming in comparison to the way his presence fills the space between you. There’s a quiet tension in the air now, a shift that neither of you can ignore. It’s as if the weight of everything you’ve both felt—everything that’s been building over time—has finally caught up with you, and for the first time, it feels like this moment might be the one that changes everything.

Quinn’s eyes flicker to your lips, and then back to your eyes, and in the silence that follows, it’s as though time itself slows down. You can feel the gravity of the moment, the pull between you both, and before you even realize it, Quinn is leaning closer, his movements slow and deliberate, his hand resting lightly on the arm of the couch beside you. The space between you has closed, and you’re so close now that you can feel the heat of his body radiating toward you, the warmth of his breath mixing with yours.

His lips hover just inches from yours, and the anticipation is almost too much to bear. The air between you feels charged, the weight of everything you’ve both been holding back lingering just under the surface. You can hear the steady beat of your heart, feel the thrum of electricity in your veins as you look at him, and for a moment, everything else in the world disappears. It’s just the two of you, suspended in this fragile, perfect space, and you know that this is the moment—the moment you’ve both been waiting for.

And then, without any further hesitation, Quinn closes the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in the softest, gentlest of kisses. It’s a kiss that feels like it’s been building for a lifetime, like every second, every look, every smile has led to this exact moment. There’s no uncertainty now, no second-guessing. It’s simple and pure, the kind of kiss that feels like coming home, like everything has finally fallen into place. His lips are warm and tender against yours, and for those few seconds, it’s as if the world has stopped spinning, leaving just the two of you in this perfect, suspended moment.

When you pull away, it’s slow, a lingering touch that leaves your lips tingling, your heart racing. Your eyes meet, and there’s a shared understanding between you both—relief, joy, and something deeper that words can’t quite capture. You smile at each other, the kind of smile that speaks volumes, full of everything you’ve both wanted and needed to say but hadn’t yet found the courage to.

Quinn’s forehead rests gently against yours, his breath coming just a little faster than usual, and his voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, as though he’s confessing something that’s been on his heart for too long. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he admits, the words soft but filled with such emotion that it sends a wave of warmth through your chest.

“I know,” you reply, your voice quiet but sure. The understanding between you is palpable, and there’s no need for further explanation. You’ve both known, deep down, that this was coming, that this connection was always there, waiting for the right moment. And now, here it is.

Without another word, you kiss him again. This time, it’s different. It’s not just a kiss—it’s the culmination of everything you’ve both held inside for so long, the frustration of the distance between you, the longing that’s grown with each moment of hesitation, the quiet understanding that’s passed between your eyes and your words. It’s the relief of finally letting go, the silent promise that this moment, this kiss, is everything you’ve both been waiting for.

As your lips meet his again, there’s a tenderness to it, like he’s savoring every second, as if he’s afraid this might slip away, that maybe if he doesn’t hold on tight enough, it will be gone before it’s fully real. His hand moves to your face, cupping it gently, his thumb tracing the line of your cheekbone, grounding you both in this moment. The warmth of his touch spreads through you, sparking a fire that matches the intensity of the kiss.

You feel the tension melt away, the knot in your chest unraveling as you lean into him, your body responding instinctively, your heart pounding with a rhythm that matches his own. The kiss deepens, slow and deliberate, as though neither of you wants to rush it, wants to savor the moment, to make sure it lasts. His lips are soft but insistent against yours, and you can taste the sweetness of everything unspoken—every glance, every shared silence, every secret that’s finally been revealed without words.

Your hand finds its way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingers. It’s real. This is real. You can feel the way his heartbeat speeds up in time with your own, the way the warmth between you both expands, wrapping around you like a protective cocoon, shutting the world out. All that exists right now is him and you—the softness of his lips, the press of his body against yours, the unmistakable feeling of everything falling into place.

There’s a desperate need in the kiss now, a hunger that you didn’t know you’d been holding inside until it spilled over into this moment. It’s not frantic, though. It’s patient, gentle, as if you both understand the weight of what this is, the depth of what’s being shared. You can feel the muscles in his back shift as he pulls you closer, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, holding you in place, but it’s not controlling—it’s protective. He’s pulling you in not to claim you, but to hold you, as though he never wants to let you go.

The world outside seems to vanish, fading into nothingness, and the only thing left is the warm press of his lips on yours, the taste of him, the rhythm of his breath. Every inch of your skin feels alive, charged, the connection between you two so intense that it’s almost overwhelming. Your pulse quickens, your breath catching in your throat, and you find yourself pulling him even closer, if that’s even possible, your hands threading through his hair, grounding yourself in the softness of him.

For a fleeting moment, it feels like time itself has stopped. There’s no past, no future, only this—this kiss, this moment that you’ll both carry with you for as long as you live. It’s everything you both needed, everything you’ve both wanted, and the knowledge that something has shifted between you. This isn’t just a kiss; it’s the beginning of something new, something real, something that’s been years in the making but finally, finally, feels right.

[ruinix]

A date with Q? Movies or Coffee?

Hello, lovely. Pardon the mistakes coz I typed it directly here. Maybe, movies 🥰🥰🥰 Too many movies out right now, and I cannot choose so...i didn't mention any. I decided to make titles now...like who am I? It's hard tho (im sobbing)

Popcorn and Sweets

TW/CW: None, Fluff, Kisses, You’re stubborn (aka a bit bratty) and Quinn isn’t having it, a slight suggestive tone (on one or two sentences but i didn't elaborate)

Count: 1499 words | Masterlist

You’re freezing. Quinn almost stands and drags you out of the cinema. The only that stops him is how your eyes—so wide and round—are glued on the big screen. He can’t just ruin the experience for you. He knows that you love movies.

Although, he knew it. The sweater you had on isn’t thick enough. He told you many times to change into a thicker sweater. Your shared closet is filled to brim with them of similar designs. Of course, you didn’t listen. He even brought a spare hoodie that he instructed you to hold and carry, but you left it in the car. Because you’re a brat. You could’ve just told him to carry it for you. He was already carrying your purse. It doesn’t matter if he has to hold another thing for you. He’ll even carry you. But no. You left the hoodie and now, you are freezing.

Another shiver from you and Quinn is outright fussing over you, wrapping his arms and rubbing his hands over your arms.

“My Love,” he calls. You curl further into his arms. “Too cold?”

“Yes,” you whisper, teeth clattering.

That’s it. Quinn quickly takes off his hoodie, not caring about your initial protest minutes ago. You didn’t want his hoodie—declining him a few times already. You are still complaining, huffing and crossing your arms while turning away from him. You are so stubborn.

Don’t you know hypothermia is dangerous? Not that you can get one in a theater…or can you? Fuck, now he’s overthinking.

And you are still huffing.

At him.

“Stop being a brat.” He forces the hoodie over your head.

When he notices how he ruined your hair, panic grips him. A lump forms in his throat. He just messed up the hair you were so proud of. He’s about to say sorry, but the words die on his tongue, because you are fighting him. Not because of your hair, no. You’re fighting his effort to put his hoodie on you.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I don’t need it,” you whisper-yell. Your voice trembles, but you don’t even care. “I have my own sweater.”

Are you fucking serious? What do you mean ‘you don’t need it’? You’re fucking freezing. He can feel the tremors wreck your body. You just agreed that it’s too cold. Maybe the cold has gotten in you. Maybe you’re already fucking delirious. This is not okay even for you.

He can’t have you brave the cold when he has his jacket, can’t have you be so uncomfortable and cold that you must curl up into him for heat. He won’t be complaining—about you leaning into him for warmth, because he loves your proximity—when you’re not trembling like this, but you are.

You must be fucking crazy.

When you’re about to pull off the hoodie, Quinn grips your shoulders, shaking you once. “No. You will wear it.”

“Or what?” you challenge.

His reply is immediate. “Or I will not drag you out and make sure you won’t be able to see this movie at all.”

You don’t look convinced. Maybe you don’t really like this movie after all. Another shiver has you crossing your arms, yet you keep pouting and not wanting his hoodie.

So he adds, for extreme measure, “No cuddles here and tonight.”

“You’re mean,” you gasp, waiting for him to take back his words.

Quinn won’t.

You finally put on his hoodie, murmuring about how ridiculous this—he—is, about how your sweater was enough, about how he is not cuddling you right now. So, Quinn grabs and made you attached to his side. You might have forgotten how he got his arms wrapped around you prior to this scuffle. It’s fine because he’s here to do it again.

It’s nice you didn’t argue more, but also, he wants you to. You’re so cute with your chin tipped up. He could just eat you up. Literally. Quinn can’t stop himself from turning his head and pressing firm kisses into your hair. He wants to bite your cheek, so he does. He holds your jaw and just nip at your cheek once…maybe twice.

“What are you doing?” You giggle.

“Nothing.” The corner of his lip curls up. “Watch the movie, princess.”

Quinn catches the blush creeping up your neck and cheek even in dim lighting. He knows that you like being called princess. It makes you feel special. You are special. It makes him feel special for being worthy enough to call you that.

The panic and anger from the whole you being cold seems faraway. With one more kiss to your cheek, Quinn settles with you right next to him. Still a bit shivery, but it isn’t long until you aren’t anymore. Thank fuck. He'll really lose it if you didn’t stop. He can’t have his princess turning into an ice cube when he’s there.

With you being comfortable, he finally calms down.

It's been so long since he last saw a movie. Honestly, he has no time to. You two prefer watching whatever’s in Netflix—or Prime or whatever subscription he signed up for so you can watch your shows—anyway. At first, he was so skeptical. He only uses the TV for sports—football, hockey, and the like—or a few shows Jack told him to watch, so he didn’t think it would be worth it to subscribe.

However, when he saw your attentive eyes glued on the screen and the widest smile you have to retell him what you’ve watched, it’s the easiest decision of his life. If his girl, his princess, his Love wants her shows, then so be it. Your happiness is his.

He loves staying in with you. Always, you’re bundled up together under a fleece blanket which smells of fresh laundry detergent and you—which Quinn won’t say out loud. You might stop spraying your colognes or using your lotions and body oils. He doesn’t want that. He needs every linen, every sheet, every blanket to have hints of you. It makes home feel even more home.

Quinn doesn’t think that you notice him burying his face on everything when you’re not home or when you’re in another room. He does though. Every time, he would find himself falling asleep instantly. You’re like a quick dose of melatonin. Completely lulling him to sleep and dream of nothing but good and sweet dreams of your smile, your touch, your laugh, and you. Just you.

Even right now, he almost fell asleep a couple of times, but he tries to stay awake and focus on the movie because what if you get cold again? What if you need company to go to the restroom? What if you need more popcorn? What if you ran out of your caramel toffees? What if you suddenly want to do stuff in the restroom with him? Yeah, he should turn off his mind. So many what ifs. He should relax.

With one subtle pants adjustment, he leans his head over yours and just watches. At one point, your hands are interlaced with one another. At one point, he really succumbs to sleep.

You wake him up during the credits. It’s your giggle that does it and maybe, your soft kiss to his jaw. Oh, it definitely is. With a haze, he is kissing you. Deeply like you aren’t out in public. Passionately like he wants you in bed. He does.

“Ah, ah. Not here, handsome,” you whisper into the kiss.

Quinn can only groan. Fine. He almost rolls his eyes, but he remembers he’s not a child anymore. Ugh.

You two exit the cinema with his hand to your waist, gluing you to his side, his head leaning towards you, because your ramblings start. Through you, he understands the movie better. It doesn’t matter if he missed half of it. You’re here to save him.

Your eyes are twinkling as you talk. You are so alluring. He’s convinced that you’re otherworldly sometimes. It’s how you smile with the crinkle beside your eyes. It’s how your lyrical your voice sounds in his ears. It’s how your hand perfectly fits in his.

He should take you to the movies more frequently. Or better yet, he needs you to read his books for him. He needs you to narrate the series he hasn’t finished watching. He sounds so greedy, but he truly enjoys everything though your lens.

Top that off with you in his hoodie.

What a time to be alive.

Quinn mentally starts planning more movie dates with you. He just knows that you’ll be happy…but he needs to know which movies you want to see first.

It would be a problem to subtly ask for it. You’re too intelligent not to get the hint of another movie date.

Except, you already have your phone out and telling him all about the next movies for the next few months.

You’re so incredibly cute for that.

[uluvjay]

First time for everything-Q. Hughes

Quinn Hughes x fem! Reader

In which Quinn lets you ride his face!

Warnings?; SMUT, oral (obvi), cursing, kissing, talks of sex, sorry for any errors I missed!

Day seven of my kinktober special!

You were never one to tell about your sex life, it had always been something that you liked to keep to yourself but tequila always did make you tell the truth.

Standing at a table with the wags, bored out of your minds while your partners played a round of pool a round of dirty never have I ever started at your table.

“Never have I ever sat on someone’s face” one of the girls spoke up, everyone around the table dropping a finger-besides you.

Everyone’s eyes snapped to you, jaws dropping open in shock as you kept your finger stayed up.

“Y/n you’ve never been eaten out?” One of them asked, face full of seriousness.

You blushed at her words, “I’ve had someone eat me out..just never sat on their face.” You laughed awkwardly.

“Girl! you’re telling me you and Quinn have never tried it?”

You felt your cheeks get even hotter at the mention of your boyfriend, there was no doubt that you two had a busy sex life but you two were pretty set in your routine.

“No, what’s the difference?” You questioned.

You proceeded to sit in silence for the next few minutes as everyone went around explaining how much better it is, how you good it feels to grind down on them.

The conversation was abandoned a few minutes later as some of the guys made their ways over and inserted themselves.

Later that night you found yourself lost in your thoughts on the ride home, thinking about if Quinn would want to try it or how he’d feel.

Getting into the apartment Quinn plopped down on the expensive couch a sigh of relief to finally be home as his social battery was long drained.

His eyes popped open when he still hadn’t felt your body next to his or even heard you move, “What’s wrong?” He asked softly.

“Nothin-“

“Don’t say nothing, you’ve been quiet since we left the bar.” He cut you off, sitting up to give you his full attention.

“I-me and the girls were talking about something..and it just got me thinking.” You shrugged.

Shuffling over to him you moved to straddle his lap relaxing into him as his arms wrapped around your body.

“Did someone say something rude?”

“No No, it’s about..sex” you knew your cheeks were bright red at this point but there was no going back now.

“Oh?..” Quinn drawled out hinting for you to continue on.

You laughed to shake the nerves before continuing, “we were playing never have I ever and the topic of sitting on someone’s face came up..and I never have.”

Quinn didn’t need you to tell him that seeing as he’s the only man you’ve ever been with he knew your body and your experiences like the back of his hand.

You didn’t miss the smirk that tugged at his lips at your admission knowing he was doing his best to keep his words to himself and allow you to keep talking.

“..And I’ve been thinking about trying it. If you’re okay with it.” You spoke locking eyes with his dark one’s.

You shivered as his hands ran along the outside of your thighs and under your short skirt that he’d been eyeing all damn night.

“You wanna sit on my face baby?”

“Mhm”

You watched in amusement as he tossed his Yankees hat across the room laid flat against the couch.

He didn’t waste anytime before pulling your body higher up his positioning you so you were hovering over his mouth.

His lips kissed the skin of your thighs, teeth nipping the skin lightly pulling small gasps from your plump lips.

“Knew you didn’t have any panties on.” He scoffed as his eyes found your bare cunt under your blue skirt.

You moaned as his breath met your cunt the teasing breath he blew towards your glistening folds sending shivers down your spine.

“Ready?” He asked softly.

“Yes, please” you whimpered.

Quinn didn’t have to be told twice before he was lowering you to his mouth, the initial contact causing your hips to buck slightly only for your clit to catch on the tip of his nose.

Your hands flew to his dark locks as his arms circled around your thighs to pull you ever closer soft vibrations of his moans flowing to your center.

His tongue moved in mysterious ways, going from shapes to his name whatever he knew would have you shaking on top of him.

“Fuck Quinn.” You moaned body slumping forward your arm shot out to grip the back of the white couch while the other was still tangled in His hair.

It was so good but so fucking dirty, your hips moved on their own accord as you pretty much humped your boyfriend’s face.

Quinn didn’t mind one bit as he was lost in his own little world eating you like you were his last meal, he could already feel his chin dripping with your juices and there was no stopping him.

He kept going until he was about to pass out only pulling back for a sharp intake of air before going right back to work, basking in the way your moans floated throughout the small living room.

His nose was something he found himself being insecure of when he was younger and it still bothered him from time to time but after feeling the way you rubbing yourself against it desperately he’d never worry again.

The pleasure was flowing throughout your whole body making it harder and harder for you to hold off your quickly approaching orgasm.

“Quinn! I’m close.” You cried out breathlessly chest heaving as you continued your movements back and forth.

You could feel the man below you manage a nod-his way of telling you to cum for him.

And all it took was a few more strokes of his tongue before you were shaking on top of him, your mouth dropping open in a silent scream.

Quinn grunted at how hard your hands pulled at his hair the pain mixing with the pleasure he was feeling from knowing you were getting off.

He let you go for a second allowing you to catch your breath but just when he felt you attempting to pull back from his face he dove back in.

“Fuck!” You squealed at the unexpected sensation the mix of his tongue and previous orgasm sending shockwaves through your body.

Quinn moaned at the taste of you the sweetness of your juices and cum filling his mouth as he continued to fuck you with his tongue until he brought you to another orgasm.

Only when he felt your legs give out did he let up, releasing his grip he allowed you to move back down his body.

Once he finally sat back up he pulled you into a dirty kiss you could taste yourself on his tongue, your juices that coated his chin and surrounding areas spreading onto your face.

His eyes were dark when he pulled back, a look you’d never seen before in them. He looked like a starved man that was ready to eat you over and over again.

“Feel good?” He panted pulling you into his side.

“Good is an understatement, we’ll be doing that much more often.” You blushed.

“Fuck yeah we will.” He agreed.

-

[bewaryofpity]

hihi, could i submit a request for fluff #18 for quinn? thanks <3

thank you for requesting ! 🩵 this is more angst than fluff i’m sorry

18. “I do love you, you know. Even if I'm shit at showing it.”

.

You knew what you were signing up for when you started dating Quinn, but you never thought you’d ever feel this way.

“It just feels like I’m always coming second.”

“Second to what?” Quinn glanced up, confused.

You shrugged. “Everything. Hockey, your phone, plans with your friends. I– We haven’t been on a date in months…”

He didn’t understand. You saw it written all over his face —the way his brows drew together, the way his mouth opened like he was searching for an explanation he didn’t have. “That’s not true,” he said, like it was simple. There, fixed it. But you nodded anyway because you didn’t have the energy to try harder and just like he had been doing lately, he didn’t press further. He went back to his phone and you went to bed, heart heavy in your chest.

And Quinn did truly love you, but he couldn't understand what you meant by “coming second” when he always reminded you of how much you meant to him. Yet, when he saw Conor still clad in his gear reach for his wife when he walked through the tunnel, the way he smiled at her, how he dropped his gloves just to hold her face in both hands and kiss her like there was nowhere else he’d rather be, it all hit Quinn hard.

Because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked at you like that, the last time he reached for you like that, held you like that. In that moment, he realized that all he had thought about was hockey, hockey, and hockey and you were right, you were coming second to him.

He had to repair the damage he had caused before it was too late, and so he did the most rational thing he could do at this late at night.

“What is that?” You said as he came through the door with a loose bunch of flowers in his hand.

“For you.”

“Are those from the lobby?”

“I– well, the florists are closed now and,” he sighed, stumbling through his words. “I’m sorry.”

He sat beside you on the couch, hesitantly handling you the makeshift bouquet. He was nervous and you could tell, not only by how his hands barely trembled but how he avoided your gaze, almost scared. You took them slowly, fingers brushing his, thinking about what to say. He exhaled like it was the first full breath he’d taken in days.

“I’m sorry you felt like that. I do love you, you know,” he said, voice low, cracking a little. “Even if I’m shit at showing it.”

Your throat tightened at his words. You placed the flowers down on the table and closed the space between you, wrapping your arms around him. His relief was palpable —arms circling your waist, fingers gripping tighter at your hoodie than he had in a while.

“I know,” you murmured. “But sometimes I need to feel it too.”

[puckinghischier]

Quick Study

Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

WARNING: SMUT! minors DNI. 18+. unprotected sex, fingering, oral fem!recieving, oral m!receiving, p in v, smut with the smallest sliver of plot. praise kink if you squint sideways and upside down.

summary: quinn loves to help you experience new things

notes: so…i don’t know what happened i think i blacked out tbh. this is kinda on theme with the request but also kinda not?? more so inexperienced!reader than in innocent!reader. idk my fingers had a mind of their own okay? enjoy 🫶🏼

request: I read a post that headcanons Quinn getting off on teaching you things and how to do things well, and that has just convinced me he has a thing for innocence… feel like that could be a great premise for smut

[4.4k]

Quinn has always been praised for his patience and willingness to teach those around him. It’s likely what landed him his new captain residency, but he likes teaching. He always said if he didn’t make it in the league he’d like to be a teacher and a coach, spreading his knowledge of history and hockey to the next generation.

What he didn’t realize until he met you, though, was how much he really enjoyed teaching.

He loved explaining the game to you, seeing your eagerness to pay attention and learn for him. Watching you glance at the cheat sheet he made you on your phone during games, making sure you’re able to keep up with the various penalties called, has him puffing out his chest a bit.

He loved explaining to you the most recent book he was reading, telling you all about the time period and the historical context of whatever story piqued his interest that week. He’d notice the empty space on the bookshelf after he finishes the book, glancing over to your side of the bed to discover the book with your bookmark tucked neatly between its pages, heart swelling when you’d bring it up over dinner, wanting to learn about his interests.

What he loved the most, though, was figuring out everything he could teach you.

He knew when the two of you first met that you were fairly inexperienced, not having ever really dated much before, but once he realized how inexperienced you really were? His mind went wild with the possibilities.

There was a certain pride he felt in being the person to guide you through all of these new experiences, never rushing you, always making sure you were one hundred percent comfortable before he tried anything new. He encouraged you to ask as many questions as you needed, telling you there’s never any reason to feel embarrassed around him.

He’d note the way you’d sit there and take in every word as he explained the different scenarios and sensations certain actions could elicit from your body, eyes wide and hungry. The second he would open the conversation for any questions or clarifications he could see the nervousness creep in, almost retracting into yourself out of embarrassment.

“I just…I don’t know exactly what you mean. You can…you know…feel that just from your mouth?” you’d ask him, voice barely above a whisper and eyes darting all over the room.

“Oh, darling, I can’t wait for you to experience the amount of things I can make you feel with my mouth,” he would nearly groan out, both angered and thankful that no other guy you’ve ever been with allowed you to experience all that the body has to offer.

Your cheeks would instantly heat, but not out of embarrassment. Quinn could see the gears turning in your head, the slight adjustment of your thighs coming closer together hinting to him how much you’re enjoying the picture painted in your head.

The day you told Quinn you had never experienced an orgasm, though? He was nearly seeing red.

“What do you mean you’ve never ‘gotten there’” he repeated your own words, not realizing the harsh tone of his voice until you looked away from him, watching your face contort into an expression of guilt.

“I- I don’t know. I mean, the couple of times I’ve actually…you know…went there with a guy, it never really happened. I guess I was doing something wrong, I don’t know,” you spoke softly, shrugging meekly.

Quinn took a deep breath, calming himself the way he would on the ice, before scooting closer to you and grabbing your hands. “You could never do anything wrong, you hear me? The fact that the fools you were with before were too sorry to make sure you were taken care of, and apparently didn’t know what the hell foreplay was, is not your fault.”

Nodding slowly, you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth and chewed on it lightly. “I think…I want you to show me,” you said so quietly Quinn thought he imagined it.

“Say that again?” he needed you to clarify, wanting to make sure he’s not just hearing what his dick wants to hear.

You inhale, preparing yourself to put on your brave face and finally find the courage to tell a guy what you want. “I want you to show me. Teach me what it’s like. I want to experience it with you.”

And damn. If that didn’t get Quinn’s dick rock fucking hard. The idea of showing you everything you’ve been missing, everything he knows he can make you feel? He could almost come right here on the couch, never even having to touch your skin.

Quinn didn’t say a word, simply grabbing your hand and prompting you to stand, leading you to the bedroom that was practically shared at this point, considering how often you stayed at his apartment.

He sat you down on the edge of the bed, standing in front of you and looking down at your big, round eyes. He had to remind himself this was about you, and not to get too ahead of himself.

Bringing a hand up to caress your face, brushing away a small strand of hair, he rests his hand on your jaw, thumb brushing over your soft, pink lips. Using the slightest bit of pressure, he wedges his thumb in-between them, causing them to part just enough for him to slip it into your warm and inviting mouth.

He feels your tongue swirl around the tip of his finger, never once breaking eye contact with him. He closes his eyes, the image in front of him overloading his brain. The second you start to suckle on the rough pad of his digit, he jerks his hand back, surprising you.

“Sorry, did I do something wro-“

“No, never,” he interrupts you, voice low and gravely. “But this is about you and I can’t let myself get carried away.”

Opening his eyes, he sees the flush come back to your cheeks, watching the outline of your tongue rolling around in your cheek. “I want to learn,” you look at him with pleading eyes.

“I know, baby, we’re gonna get there, promise,” he assures you, catching your chin between his thumb and index finger.

You shake your head back and forth, “No, I want to learn how to please you.”

Quinn can feel every ounce of blood in his body make its way straight to his already near painful cock. The innocence and eagerness on your face making his knees buckle.

“I’ve never…given a…a blowjob before,” you stuttered, your bashfulness from earlier coming back. “I never felt like I’d do a good job, and I didn’t want to disappoint anyone and scare them away, so I always said no. But I want you to teach me. Please?” you pleaded, using your eyes to convey your willingness.

If there was ever a world record for how fast a man can come without even being touched, Quinn would say he’s a pretty close contender right now.

He clears his throat, trying to choke down the groan that nearly came out. “I- uh. Are you sure?” is all he’s able to sigh out, feeling like an idiot because he can’t even form words.

You nod your head silently, not knowing if you could find the courage to ask again.

“Fuck, baby,” Quinn shudders, swallowing thickly, bringing a hand down to readjust himself in his sweats.

Figuring you need to show some sort of initiative, you bring your hand up to replace his, cupping him over the thin material.

Quinn’s entire body jerks forward at the feeling of your small hand covering him, resting his hands on your shoulders for support.

Your breath catches, not expecting to receive such a reaction from him, but it only encourages you to keep going, squeezing just enough to apply a slight pressure to his length.

Quinn grunts, shuddering at the sensation. “Fuck, Y/N.”

The sound of his voice, a slight whine but still deep and powerful, shoots a bolt of arousal straight between your legs. You start stroking his still clothed shaft, enjoying teasing him.

“Show me what to do, Q,” you whisper seductively, his actions only growing your confidence in your actions.

With his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, he wastes no time in moving your hand and ripping the sweatpants down so roughly his dick literally springs free. He sighs at the lack of constriction, creating a sweet friction with his own hand.

Seeing him bare for the first time, you feel the extra saliva form in your mouth, wanting nothing more than to wrap your lips around him and find out how his skin tastes.

Too lost in the beauty of the man in front of you, you don’t realize he’s gazing down at you, watching how in awe you are of him.

“Babygirl, you can’t look at me like that and expect me to last longer than three seconds once you start touching me,” he snaps you out of your daze, drawing your eyes to his face.

You blush, focusing on the bedroom floor to hide your eyes from him.

Bringing his hand back up to your face, he forces you to look up at him, the intensity of the moment making you squirm.

“Touch me,” he commands, rubbing his thumb back and forth on your chin.

Following his instructions, you grasp him in your hand again, moving your hand gently across the textured skin.

You pump slowly, waiting for Quinn to tell you your next move.

“Shit, faster,” is all he whimpered, moving his hips to meet your motions.

Moving your wrist a little faster, you’re so taken with the sounds he’s making you hardly feel the bruising grip he has on your shoulder, grounding himself to you.

“Quinn, wanna taste you,” you whined, watching the precum leak from his pink tip, tongue darting out to lick your lips in anticipation.

“Okay, just-” he shudders, interrupted by a moan, “just, no teeth. And don’t take too much, hollow your mouth out a bit, and keep using your hand if you need to.”

Belly swirling with nerves and excitement, you position yourself a little farther onto the edge of the bed, face to face with his strained cock.

Taking a deep breathe, you test the waters by placing a chaste kiss on his tip, licking the salty precum off of your lips. Opening your mouth, you take the plunge and follow his instructions, hollowing out your cheeks as your mouth rolls over his length, your tongue feeling the weight of his thickness.

You look up at him as he watches you, waiting for any hint of praise in what you’re doing, wanting to make sure you’re doing it right.

“Shit, just like that, baby, keep going,” he encourages, feeling you stop when his tip tickles the back of your throat.

You will yourself not to gag, enjoying the feeling of your tongue against his cock too much. Trying to combat the feeling, you swirl your tongue around him, feeling every ridge and vein.

Quinn is fighting against every muscle in his body, from wanting to bring his hands to your head and push your mouth further onto him, to wanting to snap his hips forward and bury his dick in your throat.

“Can move a bit if you want,” he hisses out as your tongue runs across his sensitive tip once again. “Doing so good, though. Feels unreal. Don’t know how you’ve never done this before.”

You want to smile, but can’t with your mouth full of him, so you start bobbing your head instead, slow and careful. You bring your hand up to cup his balls, remembering one of your friends telling you guys seem to like that.

Quinn jerks his hips forward at the feeling, not being able to control his actions at that point, dangerously close to blowing his load down your throat.

He removes himself from your mouth, watching the spit trail down your chin. The sight is so pornographic he almost finishes anyways, digging his nails into his palms as a distraction.

“Was-,” you start, wiping the dribble off of your mouth, “was I not doing it right? I remember someone telling me once guys liked when you touched them like that. Did I scrape you with my teeth? Did I-“ your hoarse voice is abruptly cut off by Quinn shoving his hands under your arms and lifting you to your feet.

“You were amazing. Too good. If you would’ve kept doing that for even thirty more seconds I would have come in your mouth, and while the thought drives me insane, there’s only one place I want to come tonight,” he tells you, bringing his hand down to untie your soft pajama pants as he finishes his sentence, fingers ghosting over the exposed skin of your stomach.

You suck in a sharp breathe as he starts rolling the pants down your hips, exposing your simple, cotton underwear.

“Well, if I knew this is what we were doing tonight I would’ve dressed more appropriately,” you said softly, wanting nothing more than to bring your arms down to cover the exposed skin.

Quinn chuckles. “You could be wearing a diaper for all I care. I’d still be rock hard at the sight of you like this.”

“Weird, but sweet?” you respond, trying to break up the intensity you feel as you kick the bottoms off of your feet.

Amused smile on his face, Quinn shakes his head at you, toying with the hem of your shirt.

“Can I?” he asks, tugging at the thin material.

You shake your head yes, knowing there’s no going back after this moment.

“Words, babydoll, ‘member?” he mumbles, staring at your taut nipples through the shirt.

“Yes. To everything. I trust you,” you breathe out.

Quinn’s heart jumps to his throat, surprised at how excited the confession makes him. Knowing he has your complete and total trust with something as important as this adds a whole new level to what he’s about to experience with you.

The shirt is over your head before you can think twice, standing almost bare in front of him.

“Shit baby, knew you were stunning,” he starts but pauses, letting his eyes rake over every inch of exposed skin. “but think you were painted just for me,” he worships your body, trailing his fingers over the dips in your collar bones in awe, watching the goosebumps rise in their wake.

“Your turn,” you whisper, feeling the flush on your cheeks, not wanting to be the only one on display.

Not being able to take his eyes off of the smooth skin of your body, he removes the rest of his clothing before you can even blink, staring at the toned man standing in front of you.

Of course you’ve seen him shirtless before, considering he never likes to wear a shirt to bed, and having spent a weekend at his lake home a few months ago. But to see him completely naked before you is a sight you never want to forget.

Breaking the stare you both hold on each other, he moves your body to lay down on the bed, guiding you to move further up the bed as he crawls over you, stopping when your head rests on one of the million pillows.

“Gonna make you feel so good,” he pants from above you, bringing his mouth down to place wet kisses along your neck.

You inhale deeply, the feeling lighting all of your nerves on fire.

Too distracted by the feeling of his tongue darting out to swirl along your skin, you don’t notice his hand has made its way to the band of your underwear, slipping a finger just under the barrier.

“Off, take them off,” you pant out, wanting the fabric gone.

“Yes, ma’am,” he obeys, sliding the material off of your body in record time.

Quinn forgot everything he was supposed to be doing when he saw you bare before him. He could practically smell your arousal, watching your pussy glisten in the low light of the bedroom.

“Bet you taste so good, hmm?” he rasped out, sounding like a man starved.

Squirming, your body fights to find some sort of friction to ease the ache between your legs, never having felt so turned on before.

“What do I need to do? Tell me what to do, Quinny,” you whimper, wanting to know what you’re supposed to be doing, desperate for relief.

Your desperation makes his cock throb, having forgot how hard he was, too distracted by you. But to watch you writhe and whine and look to him for guidance makes him painfully aware of how much this is all affecting him.

“Absolutely nothing. Now it’s my turn to make you feel good, darling,” he all but pants, licking his lips like he’s about to eat a five-star meal.

He moves his body down yours, shamelessly dragging his lips down your warm skin, taking his time and savoring every inch.

Once he reaches your soaking cunt, he teases you with hot breaths, wanting to admire every fold and crevice before exploring you with his mouth.

Placing small kisses on both thighs, letting his scruff scratch the sensitive skin, he finally lets his mouth find your core.

Licking a clean stripe up from your hole to your clit, he grips onto your legs, baffled by how good you taste on his tongue. He dives in like he’s never known such a luxury, slurping and sucking every inch of your perfect pussy.

You’ve never felt anything like this before, the pleasure overwhelming. You don’t know what to do with yourself, feeling like you’re flailing your limbs all over the place. Moaning and grunting, Quinn can sense your frustration with not knowing how to express your pleasure.

“Touch my hair. Pull it, tug it, hold on to it. Whatever you need to do. Just touch me,” he instructs you, the vibration of his words on your clit causing you to cry out, tangling both hands into his soft hair.

Quinn groans at the delicious pull on his scalp as you use his hair as your outlet, feeling his dick brush against the comforter as it twitches. He starts to grind against the mattress, not enough to push him over the edge, but enough to provide him with temporary relief.

He continues his assault on your dripping core, not caring if he were to drown in your arousal, loving how it practically leaks out of you, not wasting a single drop.

Once he feels you’re ready, he brings a finger up, slipping it inside of you and feeling your walls instantly clench around him. The sensation only drives him further, burying his nose deeper into you, if that was even possible.

Pumping his finger in and out of you slowly, he adds a second, ensuring you’re ready for him in the minutes yet to come.

Arching your back at the fullness of two of his long, thick fingers, you carry out a particularly rough tug of his hair, earning a moan so loud you want to do whatever you can to hear it again.

“Feel so good, Q. Never – ah! – knew I could feel like this,” you groaned, digging your heels into the bare skin of his shoulders.

“C’mon, know you’re almost there. Gotta let go f’me,” he grunts against you, feeling the flutter of your walls around him.

The unfamiliar pit in your stomach grows at his voice, never wanting him to stop talking to you.

“Oh, like that, huh? Like when I talk to you, pretty girl? Like when I use my voice while pressed up against your pussy?” Quinn asks you, feeling how you clenched when he spoke.

His vulgarness made the ball of pleasure grow even larger, threatening to pop at any moment.

Quinn hummed against your clit, wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud, inhaling just enough to create a small vacuum of suction.

The new feeling caused something inside of you to explode, a pleasure burning throughout your whole body so intense you think you lose your hearing for a few moments.

Quinn rides you through your orgasm, licking and sucking every drop of physical pleasure from your body. When he removes his mouth from you, you’re laying limp under him, the look of bliss on your face sparking a feeling of pride within him.

You have no clue what just happened to your body, not registering a single thing until you felt Quinn’s fingers running through your damp hair, fluttering your heavy lids open.

“There she is. Thought you went and fell asleep on me,” he chuckles, caressing your bright red cheek.

“mmmm” you hummed out. “Think I can taste colors. What did you just do to me?” you ask him, starting to gain control over your body again.

Quinn full on laughs at you, hiding his face in his bicep. “I think that’s the nicest thing a woman has ever said to me,” he marvels down at your state, knowing he was the first man to ever make you feel like this.

You’re trying to think of a clever or sexy response, but get distracted by something poking your leg. Looking down, you notice how hard and red Quinn’s dick is, remembering that he never finished earlier when you had him in your mouth.

“Oh!” you say in surprise, drawing attention to his…situation.

“What can I say? That was the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed,” he references your intense release.

You bite your lip, almost embarrassed. “Well, I can think of something hotter,” you say quietly, reaching your hand down to grab his length.

Quinn gasps as the contact, the most sensitive he thinks he’s ever been.

“Now I want to watch you,” you can recognize the sound of your voice, not knowing what having an orgasm did to you.

Crashing his mouth onto yours, the first time he’s kissed you all night, your grips falls from his shaft, bringing your hands up to pull his shoulders closer to your body. The friction of his skin on your hard nipples alone is about to drive you over the edge again.

“Gonna wreck you, you know that? Wreck you like you’ve wrecked me,” Quinn says on your lips, bringing your bottom lip between his teeth before letting it snap back into place.

You don’t know where the sudden rush and roughness came from, but you can’t say you’re disappointed. Something within him snapped hearing you express wanting to watch him come undone under your influence, and Quinn can’t control himself anymore.

“Show me, Q. Show me what I’ve missed all this time,” your mouth is operating on a mind of its own, not sure what part of your brain has been unlocked by Quinn’s magical mouth.

Quinn growls, hiking your leg up to rest around his waist, leaving the other flat on the bed, standing on his knees as he brings his hand to line himself up with your still dripping cunt, causing your hands to fall from his body. His own hand finds one of your full breasts, toying with the nipple, causing a sharp gasp to fall from your lips.

“Ready?” his voice goes soft for a second, wanting to make sure you’re still good.

“Please,” you whine in response, shaking your head yes.

As he slowly sinks himself into you, he realizes that he’s found his new favorite place. Buried deep inside of your heat, the warm squeeze against his rigid cock, is what he was put on this earth to enjoy, he thinks to himself.

Your whimpers are the perfect soundtrack as he slides himself in and out of your slick, worried he’ll slip right out if he pulls out too much. The ease with which he glides through convinces him you were made for him. Every inch of you, made to be ruined by him.

“Tell me how to move,” you moan out. “Tell me how to make this – shit! – better for you. Teach me.”

Just like before, hearing you whine and beg for him to teach you, wanting to learn from him, has him losing all of his resolve. He completely slips himself out of you, slamming back into you with such force it takes your breathe away.

Hearing your gasp, Quinn brings his hand down, pressing on your lower belly to intensify the feeling of how deep he is inside of you right now.

“You’re perfect. Doing so good f’me. Best little student ever, know exactly what to do without even being told,” Quinn praises you, causing your brain to short circuit.

“Just wanna make you feel good, Q. Don’t wanna take all the fun for myself,” you respond to him, bringing your arms back up to the skin of his broad shoulders, raking your nails down the clammy skin, not realizing the burn of your nails down his back is the final string for Quinn.

He cries out, not wanting to come before you, but he’s so close he doesn’t think he can hold out any longer.

Mustering all the resolve he has left, he removes his hand from your belly, bringing it down to circle your clit, pinching it every so lightly.

He feels it the second you reach your second release tonight, the squeeze of your walls as they clench around him making it impossible for him to pull out, triggering his own orgasm to leave his body and leak into you in spurts.

His body shakes from the sensation, letting out some of the most pornographic noises even he’s ever heard. And he was once a teenage boy with unlimited access to the internet.

The two of you come down from your highs together, Quinn’s hand letting your leg fall back down onto the bed, and slowly removing his softening cock from you, both of you whining at the loss of contact.

He flops down next to you, needing a moment to recover before he made any move to clean either of you up.

“So…that’s what I’ve missed out on for all these years?” you asked out loud through shallow breaths, not even turning your head to look at Quinn.

Quinn managed a small laugh, replying with a small “Told you it was them, not you.”

You turned on your side to finally look at your sexed out boyfriend, admiring the way his hair was damp with sweat and his lip was swollen and red from biting it out of pleasure.

“Well…I don’t think I quite grasped the concept. I think we need to do it again,” you proposed. “You know, for study purposes,” you shrugged.

And Quinn knew you were (mostly) joking, but he’ll be damned if his dick wasn’t already half hard again, not knowing what he was going to do with you now. A monster of his own creation.  

[hhughes]

quinn’s beard tickling your skin when he presses kisses to your cheek 

𓂃۶ৎ quinn with the scruff is just something else😵‍💫

quinn first noticed it over the playoff stretch. he let his beard grow in just a little longer than usual— noticing how your nose scrunched up when his scruff brushed against your cheek, how you squirmed ever so slightly when he kissed along your jaw, how your breath caught in your throat when he murmured against your skin. and once he noticed, well, it became his new favorite thing.

he’d find every excuse to make you react, coming up behind you when you were cooking, arms sliding around your waist before he pressed slow, teasing kisses along the side of your neck. he’d nuzzle into your skin when you least expected it, delighting in the way you giggled and tried to pull away, only for him to tighten his grip and keep you there.

“quinn,” you’d protest, your voice breathless and laced with amusement, but he’d just chuckle, his lips trailing up toward your ear, his beard leaving a faint tingling sensation in its wake.

“you have to shave,” you say now, breath hitching as he does it again, his scruff rasping against your collarbone.

quinn hums, pulling back just enough to give you a thoughtful look, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “you don’t like it?” he asks, running his finger ever so slightly the red marks on your skin due to his teasing.

you bite back a smile, fingers grazing along his jaw, feeling the roughness beneath your touch. “perhaps I can be convinced,” you reply slyly.

quinn’s grin is immediate and wicked. his hands slide down, past your ass, gripping your thighs as he effortlessly hoists you up into his arms. your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, a surprised laugh spilling from your lips.

“I can think of a few ways to convince you, baby,” he murmurs, voice low and promising as he strides toward your bedroom, his beard grazing your neck once more just to hear you giggle.

[softsunnyy]

p3 to when two people are obsessed!!!!!!!!!! down on my KNEES begging for this

because i'm a good person, i wrote it before i passed out from sleep 🖐🏻🖐🏻

🚨 i think all of this deserves a warning. Again, unhealthy obsession, spanking, cumming inside, stalking, him being inside your house, recording without your permission, biting. They know everything about each other because they're obsessed. Hunter x prey at the beginning, just a little bit. Dom!Quinn. You belong to him. I DON'T KNOW WHAT ELSE I'M MISSING. But anyway, i wanna write more and more about this couple, because my god, how I enjoy it. 🚨

poorly written!!

when you walked inside, there was something off; you knew it from the first moment. His scent wasn't flooding the room, nor were there even the slightest things out of place. Yet you can feel that you're not alone, even though you're not being watched.

a chill runs down your spine, and although a part of you feels paranoid, there's another part of you that wants to know, that wants to explore every corner of your place, hoping to find him.

you feel chased, as if he's hunting you, as if he wants to keep you scared, nervous, looking everywhere, hoping to see him appear from some corner or some shadow. And you know you should go to your room, but the cold in your body prevents you from going right away, and instead you pace around, prolonging the encounter.

Quinn knows you've arrived, of course he does, but he waits for you, camera in hand, his gaze fixed on the door. His jaw clenched, his cock aching like never before, having provoked himself by watching the video over and over again. His breathing was heavy, and the adrenaline was pumping through his body, driving him to do things, fueling every scene he'd imagined in his head.

he knows you're avoiding him, but he also knows that you'll eventually get to him, and he'll be waiting for you, ready to destroy you, and to accomplish every single thing he's planned.

and as the minutes pass, a force constantly calls you toward that closed door, making it impossible for your eyes to tear themselves away. The silence is heavy, and you feel like one false step will make him appear before you, and you won't have time to react before he takes your breath away.

thoughts run through your mind, as do questions.

how long has he been there? how did he react to the video? what is he planning?

while you felt brave filming, you know that seeing him in person is something entirely different. After all this time obsessing over him, learning everything you could, and having him in your mind every second of the day, you still know your legs might give out at the sight, that it will surely be too much.

yet you eventually give in, and trying to breathe deeply, you approach. One step at a time, your legs and hands shaking with fear and excitement. Your heart is beating so hard that Quinn can surely hear it.

finally at the door, you grab the handle and slowly turn it, silently opening it, your eyes glued to the floor, your heartbeat growing stronger and faster. You feel dizzy, and everything increases when you look up and see him. He's sitting on the edge of your bed, just as you've imagined so many times, and his eyes bore into you, as if he could see everything. You can only imagine the expression on your face when you see him.

his presence is overwhelming, tempting, intimidating. All the air that had entered your system was gone, and a shaky breath is all that remains.

"Quinn," you whispered his name, as if saying it louder would make him disappear. He closed his eyes for a moment, clenching his teeth even tighter, feeling the way his cock throbbed at the sound of your voice directed at him, finally. Then he looked back at you, trying to calm down.

your room feels small, you feel small, and you know he now has the power, and he can do whatever he pleases with you.

his voice interrupts the spiral of nervousness you were spiraling into, pulling you out of your thoughts. “You think that was funny?” he laughs humorlessly and stands up, approaching you, camera still in hand, moving it, showing it to you, letting you know he’d seen the whole thing. You could only gulp, shifting in place, still staring at him. “Did you think it would be clever to film something like that, knowing what it would do to me? Did you think you were being clever by moaning my name like that?” he stopped in front of you, so close you could suffocate in his scent. Your legs would have given way, but miraculously you were still standing. You couldn’t answer him, as if you’d suddenly forgotten how to speak. And he tries to be patient, but as i mentioned before, when it comes to you… that’s not his strong suit, so with his free hand he takes your chin, firm, confident, bringing your face close to his, “I asked you something, darling. When i ask, you answer. Or did the cat get your tongue?”

“I…” you hesitated, blinking nervously, feeling dizzy, drugged by him. Your eyes kept moving down, meeting his lips, and he noticed, of course he did, so he licked his lips and then smiled at you, enjoying seeing you like this.

“well, it worked. Whatever the fuck you wanted to achieve, now i'm here, and you're not gonna be able to escape it. Is that what you wanted?” his eyes left yours for the first time, studying your face, taking in your cheeks, your lips, moving down your neck and the little your shirt allowed him to see. Still, he knows what's underneath because he spent a long time memorizing your body, the way it reacts, your sweet sounds, everything.

you nod, still unable to form a word. And that's when the barriers fall, a button is pressed. Quinn carelessly throws the camera onto the bed and grabs your waist with both hands, pulling you against his body, devouring your mouth in a hard, intense, desperate kiss. His grip was so strong it would surely leave bruises on your skin, and yet that didn't bother you at all; you just reciprocated, moving your lips in time with him, wrapping your arms around his neck, trying to merge with his body and feel him completely.

weeks of observing him, of learning about him. Weeks in which you learned so much about him that you can't even consider him a stranger. Weeks of memorizing his body, his voice, his expressions, imagining this scenario over and over again.

and for him, it took weeks of learning about you, following you, delving into your life until he absorbed every last detail of your existence, making sure to drive you crazy, to draw you to him, until his name was tattooed in your mind, until all you could think about was him.

your bodies seem to gravitate toward each other, as if it's habit, as if you've known each other forever, as if you've done this a thousand times.

Quinn's hands slid under your shirt, and you can feel the confidence in him in the way he moves his hands up, reaching your bra, and slipping his hands under it, finding your tits and playing with them, massaging, squeezing, stretching your nipples until they harden, without leaving your mouth, and entering his tongue, dominating you, making you understand who's in charge.

your whimpers die down in his mouth, and you can feel the heat both on your face and between your legs. Your pussy preparing for him, for whatever he wants to do to you. Your hole preparing, accepting what's to come.

when your body moved forward, seeking more contact, he pulled away, staring into your eyes for a few moments before maneuvering your body. He placed his hands on your waist again, moving you until you fell onto the bed, careful not to break the camera, which he moved to the side. Then he quickly positioned himself on top of you, trapping you, using his strength to make you almost unable to move.

his lips found yours again, and his hands desperately found your pants, carelessly trying to pull them down. You felt a slight burning sensation, though you helped him, lifting your lower body. He pulled away from you only to finish removing your pants, leaving you in your panties. They had a rather large stain that caught his attention.

with his hands, he held your legs open for him as he bent his head, bringing his face down to your clothed pussy.

first, he smelled your arousal, lightly touching your panties with the tip of his nose. He then proceeded to use his tongue, licking the stain, making it stick to your pussy, getting between your folds, making you moan and try to close your legs, failing pathetically.

Quinn feels like he's in heaven, getting high on the scent of your pussy and savoring the taste of your arousal caused by him. And he lingers for a moment, licking hungrily, creating an even bigger slick, and sharing the heat of his mouth, feeling your body move, trying to get closer. He only pulls away when his desires are greater, and he can't help it; his hands tear at your panties, taking advantage of how wet they are, opening a gaping hole that gives him the freedom to continue.

this time his tongue touches your clit directly, and the stimulation has you moaning. You move a hand to his hair, tangling your fingers in it, and tugging a little hard, letting him know how good that feels. He looked at you, pleased, and ran his tongue between your folds, this time playing with your hole, slowly entering it, pushing between your tight walls and pulling out a couple of times, then attending to your clit again, sucking with some force, appreciating the way your body moves and reacts, and the way your eyes squeeze shut as your hand in his hair keeps him close.

he played with your pussy, keeping you on the edge, stopping every time he felt you were about to come, and ignoring the incessant ache in his cock, which screamed to be attended to. He was punishing you, making you feel the pain he experienced while waiting for you.

tears began to stream down your cheeks when he stopped again, whimpering his name, begging him to have mercy, to let you cum. Your hole throbs, your pussy aches, and the knot grows more and more unbearable. But he doesn't listen, ignores you, and resumes his game, devouring you, savoring your flavor over and over again, enjoying your fluids dripping down his chin, making his face a mess of your juices.

the last time he pulled away, your hips moved, thrusting, trying to rejoin his mouth. His hands had squeezed your legs tightly this entire time, so you had his finger marks. But it's not enough for him, and now he decides to kiss the inside of your thighs, leaving small bites, and then he begins to suck, leaving a wild trail where he passed, decorating your skin like a painting. Then he licked each of his marks, feeling the pride in his chest, almost primal at what he'd done.

when his hands finally removed your shirt, it was as if another part of you had unlocked, and once again he ignored your pleas, removing your bra and beginning to play with your breasts, making sure to repeat the process, continued marking your breasts, your abdomen, and his way to your shoulders, collarbones, and neck. The image is completely animal, wild, and you'll surely suffer tomorrow looking at everything he's done to your body, but now it's pleasurable, and the way he proudly looks at his creation makes you feel satisfied.

you're more and more his. Only the most important thing is missing. So for that, he flipped you over, putting you on your hands and knees, letting you settle, arching your back and resting your head on your pillow. Behind you, he stripped off his clothes, freeing his cock, which is aching, burning red, with its veins prominent, his balls swollen, hoping to fill you once and for all.

it's then that his eyes find your camera, and he turns it on without a second thought, placing it on the nightstand, pointing it in your direction, although to give a better view, he positioned your bodies so that your face would be facing the camera. He didn't even ask you, because he wasn't interested. He'll have that recording for himself. To remember the moment he first took you, and repeat it over and over again.

once ready, he took his cock in one of his hands, guiding it to your dripping pussy, rubbing himself for a moment against your folds, enjoying hearing your moans once more as you felt his tip hit your overstimulated clit, taking no mercy on the way your body reacted. And without giving you time to recover, he thrust his cock inside you in one swift thrust, going all the way in, making your walls swallow him whole.

the air left your lungs, and you were grateful that he took the time to make you wet, even if it didn't help stretch your walls. It made his big cock enter a little more easily, though your insides were still tight, too tight, and he had to put in a lot of effort not to cum.

when he started moving, you felt like you were floating. He thrust in and out of you hard, so brutally that the wet sound of your bodies joining could be heard on the recording, with your moans and almost screams of pleasure. You raised your head, letting the camera capture your face, with drool wetting your chin and neck, your eyes squeezed shut, and his marks decorating your body.

he moved desperately, seeking his own release, even though he knew yours wasn't far away. One of his hands grips your hip, holding you still, but the other grabs one of your ass cheeks, squeezing, massaging, and then dropping his hand, landing a hard smack on your ass that made you gasp in surprise.

his eyes are glued to the way your ass begins to turn red and irritated, and something inside him seems to go crazy, so he begins to land more smacks on you, obsessively watching the way his hand began to mark your skin, red, with small dots of blood from the force he used.

you couldn't be more aroused, moaning his name incoherently, feeling your brain burn with each thrust, making it impossible to think about anything but how good you feel. And your body aches, but nothing matters to you; you just want to keep feeling him.

he takes it all out on your body, hammering into you. And the bed frame slams against the wall, so hard it might break something, but neither of you cares, and he keeps moving.

it's then that the knot inside you reappears, and you sob, begging him to let you cum this time. Begging for mercy. Begging for permission. Because you know. Your body no longer belongs to you.

it belongs to him.

and he decides to have mercy, considering how much he's tortured your body, and grants it, saying the magic words for you.

when you cum, it's so hard that for a moment you feel like you might pass out. Your legs tremble and nearly give way. Your walls clench so tightly it's even harder for Quinn to keep moving, but he does anyway, overstimulating you.

oh, but when he reaches his orgasm? you hear him moan your name, unloading inside you, filling you with his cum, and thrusting in and out of you. When he's done, he stays inside you for a couple of seconds, then takes the camera, focusing on the moment he pulls out of you and your hole lets out a bit of his cum, staining your folds, and letting it slide down your thighs, meeting the bite marks he'd made.

but if you thought he was done, oh baby, you're wrong. He's going to fuck his name inside you. This was just the introduction. Now he'll want you to ride him, to bounce on his cock while making your ass cheeks itch even more.

he wants to destroy you until you can't even sit on your bed without thinking about him and everything he can make you feel.

now that he has you, he won't let you go. You'll have to get used to it.

special mention to @kawhh and @ruinix , because i know you liked the previous part, and i'm a fan of both, so this one's for u <33